Sittin' on my Arse

So, I spent eight days playing with the kids.

A better use of time, methinks.

At any rate, I tied for second place in a poll. This was a poll where you would submit your pornname based on the name of your first pet and the street you grew up on.

My entry? Pokey Canyon. Obviously, I missed my calling.

Next up, the Nokia N800:

Yep. It's lust. Pure unadulterated geek lust. I've got to start saving pennies. Screw the iPhone, I have got to get me one of these.

I could totally neglect my blog from anywhere with this thing.

Eight days and nights

I'm off work for the next eight straight days and nights. I’m going to work on the house.

That's right- eight days o' bloodshed, aggravation, and stupidity.

Oh yeah, and eight updates, all in a row.

Attic Archeology

Got to work on the attic today- mostly demolition work.

I tore the boards off the walls to reveal:

Me booty!

No, the stuff in front of her. We found:

• An Oregonian from November 20, 1942 with news of the Second Naval Battle of Guadalcanal- carefully censored by the War Department, details on the mass poisoning at the state hospital in Salem, as well as a several old advertisements- everything from Fred Meyer and Meier and Frank to War Bonds, rationing news, and Recruitment.
• The “Golden West Coffee” cans
• A Union Club whiskey bottle.
• A can for Snowflake shortening.
• A can of “Fire Weed” honey produced by C. W. Pilkenton of Jewell, Oregon
• A porcelain over tin wash basin
• A Portland Telegram from June 14, 1919 featuring news of Capt. Alcock and Lieutenant Brown’s attempt to cross the Atlantic, a notice that “War Will Be Resumed Next Week if Huns Balk,” and a full-page Mutt and Jeff comic (“Jeff’s Theory Was All Right”
• A June, 1919 copy of the Astoria Catholic Monthly.

Time to fire up the ol' eBay account.

Such a nice man…..

Held what turned out to be the first day of two in our Yard Sale today.

We hardly had any visitors. Of course, there was exactly a lot of advertising, either.

So, we’ll continue tomorrow, because my motto is “if it goes poorly, keep banging your stupid head into the wall.”

How slow was it? Slow enough that I mowed the yard, then poor, wounded ankle-having neighbor Meg’s yard. That went fairly well, as the grass was only knee-high.

Then, I decided to mow Donna’s yard for her.

Waist high grass is a whole different animal. I didn’t need a mower, I needed Agent Orange.

So, I busted out the weed-eater of ridiculous power- the one that I purchased when I owned five acres of buck-brush, Scott’s broom, and pine trees.

I was going to sell in the yard sale of perpetual slowness. It was then that I realized - sometimes you just need a 4-stroke 1.5 HP brush-cutting, string trimmer strapped to your back. Even on a 50’ x 100’ city lot. So, it stays.

I weed-whacked, brush-cut, mowed, raked (lightly), then used the blower.

I told them both- I'll mow for free, but they have to rake.

As a bonus, my activities today have cemented what my neighbors would say about me if, say, I snap and start shooting people from the top of the John Jacob Astor Building.

“He was such a nice young man, we never saw it coming.”

Except Meg, who would say “Did he hit any former theater board members?”

Purge

We’ve having a yard sale tomorrow, May 27.

Love getting rid of stuff, hate setting it up. Lots of good stuff this time around.

Come on by- starts at 9:00am

1353 Kensington Ave.
(Between 12^th and 14^th Street)

Not quite a year.

The basement is empty.

The previous owner came by and took the last of his stuff.

He brought two guys and between the four of us, we got everything out.