Dear TV Producers:

shereads said:
SNAKE!!!!!!!!!

Not snake. SNAKE!!!!!!!!

SNAKE the size of a #@%&# bridge suspension cable, lying under the #@#!@ tangle of branches I was scooping up with my hands.

<noticing how awful my hands look>

I need a manicure and a tetanus shot and somebody to clean up these fuc*ing tree parts who doesn't mind putting his or her hand on a SNAKE!!!!!!

Edited to clarify: The business with the snake happened yesterday. I couldn't talk about it until now.

:rolleyes:


Damn so that's where my lunch went off to. Damned critter's fast. Tell him to come back. I want to invite him for donner tomorrow, as guest of honor.

Cat
 
ABSTRUSE said:
Oh, I confused her with the mosquito bitten, Khaki shorted, braless seahag with the fish spear...I'm glad you cleared that up, thanks.

Are you sure that wasn't my wife? Oh wait, my wife was topless. Sorry, my mistake. :D

Cat
 
TxRad said:
Wait a minute.....

What happened to the hotel room in Miami and the two vagrants with the chainsaw, who were cleaning up the Jungle Compound... or was that cleaning out The Jungle Compound.....

Okay, here's the thing.

For the hurricane shell-shocked, whose jungle compound is dark and scary and depressing and perhaps infested with snakes, not to mention chainsaw-wielding vagrants who want to know if you're married and if that vacant house next door is vacant all the time, there really is nothing nicer than a well-lit, climate-controlled motel room in Miami Beach, where the snakes are just part of a dinner show.

I highly recommend it for one night, maybe two nights, maximum. Then reality sets in. If you can afford to stay in a Miami Beach motel until power is restored to your compound - by no later than November 15 or November 22 depending on which utility spokesperson is on duty - then you don't need a motel room because you are Ivana Trump and have a home in the Hamptons. In fact, you never visit Florida during the off-season. No one who's anyone does! So what are you worried about? You won't even be here until mid-November when Joe's Stone Crab opens for the season. You imagined the hurricanes.

As for the vagrants, they missed a few trees and tree parts. Normally, I don't get ripped off without exacting some sort of minor vengeance, even if it's only verbal abuse. But in their case, I was just happy that they went away and left no evidence that they plan to live under the crawl space.

There are no street lights yet, you see, and phone service is sporadic, and there's no power for the burglar alarm. It's not just dark; it's scary-dark.

So now I'm spending a couple of nights at a dive out in west bejeezus. The room isn't cheap, but at least it smells cheap. It has working lamps and a microwave oven and sporadic internet access and a small strip of wet grass where the dog can pee.

Yes, I know. I'm whining. Things could be worse.

Remember the grave-robbing scene in Young Frankenstein?

Gene Wilder: "What filthy work!"

Marty Feldman: "Oh, I don't know...Could be worse."

Gene Wilder: "How could it possibly be worse?"

Marty Feldman: "Could be raining."

:rolleyes:

<clap of thunder; cue rainstorm>


It's raining. I have to go walk the dog now. The office is open tomorrow and I have a morning meeting and the drive from here to there will be at least ninety minutes without traffic lights, because the concept of the four-way stop is a matter of dispute in great multi-cultural cities like mine where people from many nations gather to share the quaint traffic laws and other folk customs that they remember from the Batista regime.

Oops. I'm whining again, aren't I. Yes, dammit. I'm whining! What to make something of it?

:mad:
 
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shereads said:
For the hurricane shell-shocked whose jungle compound is dark and scary and depressing and invested with snakes and chainsaw-wielding vagrants who want to know if you're married, there really is nothing nicer than a well-lit, climate-controlled motel room in a part of the town where the snakes are part of a dinner show. I highly recommend it for one night, maybe two nights maximum. If you can afford to stay there until power is restored to your compound - by no later than November 15 or November 22 depending on which utility spokesperson is on duty - then you don't need a motel room; you are Ivana Trump and have a home in the Hamptons. In fact, you never visit Florida during the off-season. No one who's anyone does! So what are you worried about? You won't even be here until mid-November when Joe's Stone Crab opens for the season. You imagined the hurricanes.

As for the vagrants, they missed a few trees and tree parts. Normally, I don't get ripped off without exacting vengeance, even if it's only verbal abuse. But in this case, I was just happy that they went away after the big one asked if I was married and if the house next door is always empty.

There are no street lights yet, and phone service is sporadic, and there's no power for the burglar alarm.

So now I'm spending a couple of nights at a dive out in west bejeezus. The room isn't cheap, but at least it smells cheap. It has working lamps and a microwave oven and sporadic internet access and a small strip of wet grass where the dog can pee.

Yes, I know. I'm whining. Things could be worse.

Remember the grave-robbing scene in Young Frankenstein?

Gene Wilder: "What filty work!"

Marty Feldman: "Oh, I don't know...Could be worse."

Gene Wilder: "How could it possibly be worse?"

Marty Feldman: "Could be raining."

<clap of thunder; cue rainstorm>


It's raining. I have to go walk the dog now. The office is open tomorrow and I have a morning meeting and the drive from here to there will be at least ninety minutes without traffic lights, because the concept of the four-way stop is a matter of dispute in great multi-cultural cities like mine, where people from many nations gather to share the traffic customs and other folklore that they remember from the Batista regime.

Oops. I'm whining again, aren't I. Yes, dammit. I'm whining! What to make something of it?

:mad:
She, you should write a book. Honest, you should. You've the gift of words and your wit … your wit is saturated with a manic sort of brilliance. You are the stuff of legends.

I genuinely hope that your life is yours again very soon. :rose:

Luck,

Yui
 
shereads said:
Okay, here's the thing.....

Oops. I'm whining again, aren't I. Yes, dammit. I'm whining! What to make something of it?

:mad:
Shereads, I really do enjoy reading your posts. :D
I'm sorry they are the product of such adversity. I hope that they are as cathartic to write as they are enjoyable to read. :rose:
 
Indeed Sher,

What preople here are saying is the truth. Your posts are fun to read, they should be saved and put together. One can feel what you are feeling and understand that the whining really isn't that. It is more of a commentary of what is going on.

Try to relax, it will get better eventually.

Cat
 
You haven't mentioned the state of your underwear, Sher! Do you need an emergency relief shipment??
 
LadyJeanne said:
You haven't mentioned the state of your underwear, Sher! Do you need an emergency relief shipment??
A note of practicality!
What do you need- undies, batteries, art supplies (we sent art supplies to an ex-NOLA artist)
And how do we get things to you? how's the fedex and UPS delifery in your area? I already know the US Post office is for shit.
 
My heart goes out, shereads. You should read my porn for distraction... and like, 5-bomb it. :heart:

:)

The rain and hail and snow and crap from what was rightfully your hurricane has come and gone. We are now enjoying the slanting sun through the yellow sparse leaves in the second of a pair of absolutely spectacular crisp fall days.

Children came spontaneously to my house and extorted candy, but we were prepared. My daughter even came over, as a flapper, to answer the door. We fed her and the gf upon our usual excellent food, watched the fire in the woodstove, mulled cider and talked about goose plagues of the midwest.

And you don't see me whining, now do you?
 
ABSTRUSE said:
OH....I'm not familiar with animals below the mason dixon line.
Where on an animal is their mason dixon line?



Shereads : I'm sending you some new handymen to replace your vagrants. They come recommended by a Vermont Innkeeper of some reknown.

Photo attached.
 

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Ted-E-Bare said:
Where on an animal is their mason dixon line?



Shereads : I'm sending you some new handymen to replace your vagrants. They come recommended by a Vermont Innkeeper of some reknown.

Photo attached.
Just above the equator.
 
cantdog said:
My heart goes out, shereads. You should read my porn for distraction... and like, 5-bomb it. :heart:

:)

The rain and hail and snow and crap from what was rightfully your hurricane has come and gone. We are now enjoying the slanting sun through the yellow sparse leaves in the second of a pair of absolutely spectacular crisp fall days.

Children came spontaneously to my house and extorted candy, but we were prepared. My daughter even came over, as a flapper, to answer the door. We fed her and the gf upon our usual excellent food, watched the fire in the woodstove, mulled cider and talked about goose plagues of the midwest.

And you don't see me whining, now do you?

Goose plagues of the mid west...........Erm.........??????

Is this something of which I should be aware???

:cool:
 
Helpful information for your extended power-outage:

If you return to your compound after a few days away and realize that you forgot to remove some pears and a pint of yogurt from the refrigerator last week - don't open it. Ever.

Accept the fact that you made a mistake, then move on. If you open that refrigerator door, there will be no going back.
 
cantdog said:
My heart goes out, shereads. You should read my porn for distraction... and like, 5-bomb it. :heart:

For you, I can do better than that: a lucky 7! I don't award a lot of lucky 7s because it's pretty complicated. I have to do the 5 on my computer, and then get online somewhere else to award the extra 2. But since I'll be using wi-fi at two different locations today, it will be easy.
 
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