- Tuesday, April 15, 2008
Electric or Gas?
Yea, so despite my electrician saying I have to have a gas stove since my house is equipped for gas, I'm hooking up an electric one. I hate the burners on gas stoves, the electric ones let you know they are hot by turning red! So my electrician just wenthome all pissed off for some reason and all I know that all it took was a couple of rolls of duct tape, 5 to be exact and I've got the gas hookups connected to my electric stove perfectly bitch. You can't even tell the difference but the gas really does stink and it's making me dizzy. I guess that's normal..oh snap!!!! Check it!! The coils are turning red too! And that dumbass electrician said it couldn't be done. I've got gas pumping away like a MoFo and the electric coils are firin up some juicy hot red metal red/orange/red metally kinda. Snap! I'm a regular blacksmith in the making. Watch out Excaliber!! I'm going to go make some Jiffy Pop and smoke a cigarette, then make sword out of the tin foil packaging!!
Posted by Bad Advise Guy at 9:51 PM
Tuesday, November 17, 2009
Electic or Gas?
Sunday, November 15, 2009
Saturday, November 14, 2009
To Sit in the Sun
Don't ask me, dearie. I wouldn't know about that. As I said, I'm just a neighbour of theirs - that's right, that little white house there on the corner, the one with the fig tree next to it. And yes, I saw it all. Not that I was watching - I believe in keeping myself to myself - but a body couldn't help noticing. First all the coming and going with him being ill, then the weeping and wailing when he died - of course I went to pay my respects, that's only right - and I saw them carry the poor lamb from the village, lay him out proper and wall up the tomb. I did feel sorry for the two girls, I must say.
What? Yes, that's right, dearie. Four days later it was - just as things were getting back to normal. Some sort of preacher. The girls must have sent for him - with never a word to anyone - and up he walked, bold as anything, with a bunch of followers too. You can imagine the talk. And then to go on up to the tomb, with near enough the whole village hard on their heels. No, I didn't go - not decent, I thought, stirring people up, giving them false hopes, but I was wrong, wasn't I? The preacher did it - got them to open the tomb and called out, so they say, and that was that. Back they all came, the two girls crying and hugging their brother, half the crowd jabbering with excitement and the other half - you know, looking sideways and not really sure. I wasn't sure myself, come to that.
Afterwards? Well, when the preacher left and all the fuss had died down, I asked his sisters if they needed any help to keep an eye on him. They couldn't thank me enough. First it was just for a few hours, then they started bringing him over in the morning and taking him home at night, then they asked me if I could .... you know, have him permanent. Like I said, I'm a widow, and they ... well, dearie, let's just say I'm not too proud to accept a little something for having him.
Mind? Bless you, no, of course I don't mind. Well, you can see for yourself, dearie. He just sits there mostly. I talk to him, of course - well, a body needs some company - but if I don't ..... No, he's no trouble at all. He just likes to sit in the sun.
Don't ask me, dearie. I wouldn't know about that. As I said, I'm just a neighbour of theirs - that's right, that little white house there on the corner, the one with the fig tree next to it. And yes, I saw it all. Not that I was watching - I believe in keeping myself to myself - but a body couldn't help noticing. First all the coming and going with him being ill, then the weeping and wailing when he died - of course I went to pay my respects, that's only right - and I saw them carry the poor lamb from the village, lay him out proper and wall up the tomb. I did feel sorry for the two girls, I must say.
What? Yes, that's right, dearie. Four days later it was - just as things were getting back to normal. Some sort of preacher. The girls must have sent for him - with never a word to anyone - and up he walked, bold as anything, with a bunch of followers too. You can imagine the talk. And then to go on up to the tomb, with near enough the whole village hard on their heels. No, I didn't go - not decent, I thought, stirring people up, giving them false hopes, but I was wrong, wasn't I? The preacher did it - got them to open the tomb and called out, so they say, and that was that. Back they all came, the two girls crying and hugging their brother, half the crowd jabbering with excitement and the other half - you know, looking sideways and not really sure. I wasn't sure myself, come to that.
Afterwards? Well, when the preacher left and all the fuss had died down, I asked his sisters if they needed any help to keep an eye on him. They couldn't thank me enough. First it was just for a few hours, then they started bringing him over in the morning and taking him home at night, then they asked me if I could .... you know, have him permanent. Like I said, I'm a widow, and they ... well, dearie, let's just say I'm not too proud to accept a little something for having him.
Mind? Bless you, no, of course I don't mind. Well, you can see for yourself, dearie. He just sits there mostly. I talk to him, of course - well, a body needs some company - but if I don't ..... No, he's no trouble at all. He just likes to sit in the sun.
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