Saturday, July 14, 2018
I can sometimes be easily annoyed…maybe that is why Mrs. C calls me “Cranky.” Somethings I should let slide, but they just stick in my craw.
We are staying three weeks in a small apt. off a garage, under the main house, just off the beach. It is not fancy, but it is still a sweet deal. Next door to our place is a gigantic multi-million-dollar humongous house on the beach with multiple views of the ocean. The owner of this home is very wealthy. He has everything, including a large belly and the biggest head on the beach.
Apparently, his shit has no odor. I call him Butthead. That is not a term of endearment.
Butthead’s house is about four yards from our place. He has several downspout water diverters. He could point the diverters toward the street. He points them directly at our house. Periodically I readjust them. He points them back to our place.
Four times in the last two years he has parked his car in our driveway and directly behind our cars such that if we wanted, we could not get out. He has a driveway that can park about 10 cars. When I tracked him down the first time to move and not block us in, he did apologize and say he was only going to be there for a minute because he was expecting a work truck to come to his driveway soon. No problem, but why does he think it is ok to inconvenience me so he would not be inconvenienced?
In my whole life I have not once blocked another person’s driveway. Four times in two years…Butthead!
Yesterday he was having some kind of sale for a charity (what a hero…with all his money, just write a check!) Where was his stand holding the sale goods? In front of his driveway? Why no, it was blocking our car.
Dickhead's driveway just to the right
I had to make him move so I could go to the store that I really didn’t want to go to.
At the end of our block right in front of Butthead's house but not his driveway, are racks for bicycles. I have never seen a bicycle block his driveway. If there was, bicycles are pretty easy to move.
Today I noticed Butthead had a large chalk circle drawn in front of his driveway with large chalk instructions in the circle, “DO not block driveway with a bicycle…EVER.”
So, this Butthead can block my car in with his giant SUV whenever it happens to be convenient for him, but to make sure an eight-year-old doesn’t leave a bike at the end of his driveway he leaves a message on the street.
Friday, July 13, 2018
FUZZY SOAP (Probably TMI)
|OK, it was not quite this disgusting...but close.|
If you are easily disgusted, just move on, I’ll understand.
We have one shower in our shore house rental. It gets used a lot by Mrs. C, myself and guests.
For the past few weeks, whenever I take a shower I notice there are two bars of soap. One white bar of soap is covered with hair. I guess it could be my hair, I don't think so, but I don’t know for sure. I generally soap up with my hands and the soap bar does not make actual body contact so I do not think it is my hair.
I have assumed the hairy soap was from someone else, possibly a previous renter.
I use the hairless bar of soap. After many showers, the hairless bar was getting down to a nub and I realized that Mrs. C must assume the hairy soap was mine.
“Just so you know, the hairy bar of soap in the shower is not mine. It was either Sasquatch, or the ghost of Robin Williams that last used that soap.”
“Oh, thank God, I assumed it was you. That soap is disgusting!”
“I know! Do you think I could toss it out because I am not using it…ever.”
Mrs. C as I may have mentioned in previous posts does not like waste or I would have thrown that bar away long ago.
“OMG, please. I don’t even like it staring at me when I shower.”
We now have a brand new clean hairless bar of soap in the shower.
How Sasquatch snuck in our shower and defiled that other bar of soap remains a mystery.
Thursday, July 12, 2018
Mrs. C does not like to throw things away. She does not like to waste food. Several years ago, youngest son Spencer stopped eating cereal when he visited. Neither Mrs. C or I have touched cereal since... forever.
Packing up for the Shore this year, Mrs. C. took a box of Fruit Loops from the cupboard.
“Don’t bring that crap, you should probably chuck it out, no one eats cereal.”
“Cole and Conor might, if not, then I will throw it away.”
Several days after we were at the Shore, my son and his children visited. We got up in the morning to go fishing for flounder on the Norma K out of Point Pleasant, N.J.
My son poured a bowl of the cereal.
“Akkkk, gag, urp, yuck, spit, spit, spit. Yeoow! What is this crap? How old is it?”
“Did you eat the cereal?”
“Yes, it is awful! Holy Crap, the best by date is 12/09.”
“Yeah, you probably should not eat that…Nona (Mrs. C.) thought it would be ok.”
“I think I might throw up!”
Matt recovered and we went fishing.
The fishing was not very good. I caught some garbage fish, Matt caught nothing, but the boys, always good patient fisherboys caught some seabass, and Cole caught a nice flounder.
Conor with a seabass
Poor fishing, but a good boat ride and a fun day.
Later in the day Matt posted on Facebook some pictures of the fish his boys caught.
Mrs. C’s friend, Brenda who had been on the beach with Mrs. C heard the story about the bad cereal.
She commented on Matts post, “Nice fish, what did you use for bait…cereal?”
Matt almost got sick and missed the fishing trip because of the old cereal, but at least with Brenda’s comment we got a good laugh.