When it's 90 degrees outside and you don't have a membership to a pool and there's no waterpark nearby, what do you do? Improvise
With a bit of ingenuity and some duct tape, I thinkn I might even be able to make it a bit better. And just wait til I add the slip-n-slide! I'll have to start charging admission.
¶ 9:31 AM0 commentslinks to this post
Two things that you're told not to bring up as topics of conversation while out in public: politics and religion.
What was the main topic of discussion Thursday night out at the bar?
So what do you do when you're out at a bar, trying to have a good time and you're drawn into a political discussion?
You thank the stars that one of the barmaids has a boyfriend that is over-protective.
Said barmaid had come in on her night off to chit-chat with some of the other staff and to enjoy a nice cold beverage. She also brought along the new stun gun her overprotective boyfriend had recently purchased for her.
Let's just say that all political discussion ened at that moment and the real fun began.
It started with finding a volunteer to endure the first round of tasering. And I just so happened to capture a bit of video.
I must apologize for the quality of the video, it was taken with my cell phone.
Everyone of us there took at least two jolts from the stun gun that night.
The nanny that wanted to track dog shit through the house
One of the more interesting parts of my job is the opportunity to meet people from all walks of life. From blue-collar to black-tie, and all the different assortments in between.
On Friday, my first appointment was scheduled with the understanding that the hoeowner would not be present, but rather her nanny would be there to allow me access to the homestead. I was informed that the nanny did not have a complete grasp of the english language. This was not a problem I haven't encountered before so, no worries.
To say that I was expected someone of mexican or spanish descent is an understatement, but what I found left even me a bit startled.
The door was opened by a barrel-chested woman wearing what can only be described as a mu-mu, two gold teeth flashing in the sun. This was no nanny of mexican OR spanish descent. From her mangled attempt at english, and the fact that one of the little rugrats called her "Olga", I assumed that she was Hungarian. But I don't think we'll ever know for sure.
I had already completed the exterior portion of my inspection, and while doing so had inadvertantly managed to walk right thought the family dog's personal restroom. So being the considerate person that I am, I removed my shoes prior to entering the domicile.
As I was wandering through the house sketching out the interior, Olga caught up to me with my shoes in her hands, wondering why I had removed them before I came inside. I tried to explain that I had stepped in something while outside and did not wish to track feces throughout the house.
The nanny did not seem to comprehend, insisting that I put my shoes back on. I told her that I would put them back on when I was ready to leave, that I didn't want to mess up the house. She kept telling me that it wouldn't be a problem, smiling those two gold teeth at me the whole time. As if to say "Go ahead and track dog shit through this house, it's not mine and I really don't care."
I think we need to come up with an international sign for "dog shit", much like we have for "shark", only not to the same degree of danger.
¶ 1:16 PM0 commentslinks to this post
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