the egg is now in a nest made of shitty swords and soft puppet ass

Lord bless and keep you, Barry’s Burger Barn. They continue to amaze me by having, of all things, Ramune soda. Also the best cheeseburger I’ve ever had in my entire life.

It’s now looking like there’s more stuff open than closed around here, so hopefully I’ll get to go back to work soon.

And they’re working on the roof right now. The cats are not pleased with all the hammering going on up there, but after I sprinkled some catnip on the carpet they’re not freaking out quite so much about it.

Originally published at Fire of Unknown Origin. You can comment here or there.

Kroger is open! They have no ice and no bread and are not selling perishable things, but you know what? They have bread machine mixes, and I have a bread machine and electricity. They also had stuff like tortillas and pita bread. But never mind that, I have a loaf of hot bread, oh god it is so good after three days of cold rolls and rice balls. ♥

Walgreen’s was also open, but I didn’ go in there.

The Chronicle tells me that Hooters, of all places, is open.

I heard people walking around on the roof earlier. I don’t think they actually fixed anything, but at least they were looking at shit. Some lady in one of the nearby apartments was apparently bitching and whining at the maintenance man about when they were going to fix her stained ceiling. Lady, please shut up, I want them to fix the damn ROOF because I’m afraid if it rains one more time my ceiling is going to CAVE IN. FUCK UR CEILING.

My bedroom is mostly cleaned up and the bits where the carpet got just damp enough to stink have been aired out and Carpet Freshed and vacuumed. The ceiling is still ugly, but at least the bedroom doesn’t smell like a wet dog and I can, y’know, just not look at the ceiling. I still need to go through the leaky side of the closet and see if anything else in there got leaked on.

Yesterday on the way to Mom’s house I saw a house whose windows were boarded up… with, like two or three 2×4s on each window with huge gaps between them. I wish I’d had my camera, because that was screaming for a “you’re doing it wrong” macro.

Originally published at Fire of Unknown Origin. You can comment here or there.

Hmm. There seems to be a leak I missed yesterday in the bedroom closet. Fortunately it’s a tiny one and it’s on the side I use as a closet, not the side I use as an office. This morning’s thunderstorm (WTF, nature, that’s enough out of you, stop that) alerted me to its drippy presence.

And of course not an hour after I clear stuff out and put a bucket under the drip, it stops dripping. There’s about a tablespoon of water in the bucket. NOT THAT I AM COMPLAINING ABOUT THIS

Just in case, I cleared stuff out of the bedroom under the water stains on the ceiling (some of which kind of look like an abstract goatse from the bed) and put trash bags all over the floor. I poked a couple of holes in the stains yesterday to make sure there wasn’t fifty gallons of standing water up there and nothing came out, they’re just damp spots with no puddles behind them. Still, I moved the TV, VCR, and PS2 into the living room, where they’ll probably stay. Having them in the bedroom didn’t work out as well as I’d hoped anyway, and if I do get the urge to watch a movie in bed I now have a laptop with a DVD drive.

If it ever stops raining I may board the bike and see if any restaurants are open.

Originally published at Fire of Unknown Origin. You can comment here or there.

THAT SUCKED AND I’M NEVER DOING IT AGAIN. Not in this apartment, anyway. Next time, if I have to ride a hurricane out by myself, I do it at Mom’s. It’s not so much with the great big windows you cannot possibly position a bed to avoid shrapnel from. Also not so much with the scary noises.

So power is out, who knows for how long, and there is apparently some roof damage here–there are some damp spots on my ceiling. Apparently, the really scary noise that spurred me into camping out in the bathroom from about 5 in the morning until about 10 or so was just the rain gutter peeling off and flapping around and occasionally bonking things. I swear to God it sounded like the entire roof was peeling up like a sardine can. OTHER THAN THAT AND NEEDING ABOUT FIFTY BEERS OR PERHAPS THIS SINGLE LEFTOVER MOJITO AND ALSO ABOUT A WEEK OF SLEEP IN MY ACTUAL BED, I’M GREAT

I spent most of the night on my little sofa, which is too short for even my short ass to properly stretch out on, which was crammed into the hall. And then the aforementioned scary noises chased me and the cats into the bathroom. I would have gone to the farm with Mom, but I figured it was heading there too and if the shit came down, at least Pasadena has, you know, facilities.

I’ve only got about an hour and a half of battery life on the laptop, so just letting y’all know I’m not dead.

Also that there were stupid people out here partying and cheering for exploding transformers until like one in the morning.

Originally published at Fire of Unknown Origin. You can comment here or there.

HURRICANE: WHAT AN ADVENTURE.

Aunt Boss kicked me out of work around noon, with paycheck. Cool.

I got to the bank just in time to watch every person who worked at said bank walk out to their cars, smiling and waving at me. Yes, the bank was closed.

Guess who then got to pedal halfway across town to cash her damn paycheck? Yes.

So I went back to the grocery store containing the closed effing bank, because I needed cat food and litter and toilet paper. And a pitcher. Because see, I know a secret.

There is this thing in my kitchen. Actually, I’ve got two of them in the bathroom too. You turn a knob, and water comes out of it. And if you use it to fill containers up before the storm hits (never mind the fact that as far as I can remember, even during Allison, our tap water supply was not contaminated or cut off), YOU DON’T HAVE TO BE A RUDE TWAT AND GET ALL PISSED OFF AT THE CASHIER BECAUSE YOU CAN’T LIFT YOUR TEN CASES OF BOTTLED WATER TO SHOW THEIR BARCODES TO THE U-SCAN THAT YOU AND YOUR BASKET FULL OF SHIT SHOULDN’T EVEN BE USING IN THE FIRST PLACE, WHAT PART OF 15 ITEMS OR LESS DO YOU NOT GET?

…no, I’m okay, really.

Then I came home and had a mojito and a cigarette. First one in over two years. Yes, I bought one pack. I will probably throw most of it away. But it was that or try to find a different substance to smoke, and I’ll stick with the one that is a) cheaper and b) less likely to get me a partyv& ride. I REGRET NOTHING. except not buying an ashtray. oh well, that’s what outside is for.

Then I changed out of my sweaty bike clothes and took a nap with my kitty. And now I’m listening to the radio. Yeah, I’m staying put. Out of my entire family and all its houses in this town, strangely enough, my shithole apartment fared better than any of them during and after Rita. My power was back on the next day and may have never gone out. And the only time I’ve ever seen this street running in front of it flood ever was Allison, and it didn’t even come up to the first-floor apartment doors. So I’ll be fine.

ugggggggggh just go away stupid hurricane.

Originally published at Fire of Unknown Origin. You can comment here or there.

It is a special storm that can completely ruin my weekend before it even comes close to making landfall.

Also, let the price gouging begin. ffs.

Happy Labor Day weekend, folks.

Originally published at Fire of Unknown Origin. You can comment here or there.

PUT THAT CASE OF BOTTLED WATER DOWN FOR A MINUTE AND LISTEN UP.

Most of you charming folks I ran into at the grocery store today have lived here for some time. Your whole lives, some of you. And a couple of months ago, “hay guys, hurricane season’s here, you might wanna keep some bottled water and shit around just in case, ‘kay?” was all over the news.

So why is it, that when I am at the store with one bag of cat food and one bottle of Sprite, I have to fight my way past a bottled-water-assimilating clot of rude people in the middle of the aisle and then, then wait in line behind twenty of you fuckers with carts full of water and crackers and powdered milk and Vienna weenies because you think an approaching tropical storm that at last estimate was not even supposed to gain enough XP to level up to “hurricane” lifts the “15 items or less” limit on the express lane?

As the old bumper sticker says, “lack of preparation on your part does not constitute an emergency on my part.” Don’t hate me because I’m beautiful already in possession of ample bottled water and non-perishable food and not tripping balls over a wee tropical storm that’s projected to be at the weak end of the “tropical storm” scale when it hits.

Seriously. SERIOUSLY. Have any of you even looked at a satellite image today? Do you notice how this tropical storm has been kind of scraping the coast? Do you remember how Rita did that and ended up burning itself down from a category 5 to a category 3 before it hit? Yes, I know, anything can happen, but the chances of this storm up and going OH HAI, I’M IN UR GULF, BECOMIN CAT 5 HURRICANE LOL before it hits are astronomically fucking slim. We are not going to die. If Carla, Alicia, Allison, and Rita didn’t kill us, I’m pretty sure this little guy won’t either.

Please go drink a beer or smoke a doobie or boink the spouse or whatever the hell it is you do to settle down.

Originally published at Fire of Unknown Origin. You can comment here or there.