Archive for the ‘Random bullshit’ Category

Incoming!

February 26, 2022

Russians? Nyet. Incoming? Da.

Nope, no Russians up there this morning. Good thing, too, as we’re going to be too busy over the next couple weeks to repel hostiles. We have incoming friendlies, and the High Command says I am forbidden to take up arms against any of them.

One of Herself’s second cousins arrives this morning. She apparently has divested herself of some Dallas real estate and is on an extended auto tour of the nation’s Airbnbs. As a Man of the People® who knows that all property is theft, I look forward to hearing the details.

Tomorrow one of Herself’s old friends zooms through. This is a real whirlwind tour — she’s been visiting Santa Fe with another companion and is en route to The Duck! City airport for the trip home, so it’s a hi-bye kind of deal, heavy on the high-speed gossip.

Tuesday brings the regularly scheduled vet visit for Miss Mia Sopaipilla and a second crack at a bedroom carpet installation (the first go-round left a seam I could see in the dark without my glasses). Wednesday, Herself the Elder gets a checkup of her own.

Sometime next week I hope to get Sue Baroo the Fearsome Furster in for her annual physical, if the folks at Reincarnation aren’t swamped working on vehicles that actually get driven.

And the week after that Herself’s eldest sis and a pal drop in for a week’s lodgings at El Rancho Pendejo. I anticipate some medium-heavy eBaying, much raucous recollection of various Texican kinfolks who are straight out of a Dan Jenkins howler, and yes, this is why I’m having the Subaru serviced, in case you were wondering.

If the Russians come calling don’t expect me to be of much use. I got a reverse Alamo going on over here.

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Posted in Family, Home and hearth, Random bullshit, Road trips | 17 Comments »

Sweet dreams are made of this?

July 25, 2021

Cyclocross weather. Not just in my head, either.

So last night I dreamed that I was racing the cyclocross national championships, and since I was the only competitor I felt I had a strong chance to podium.

But somehow I was managing to fuck it up.

Everybody’s looking for something.

I was missing some important bits, among them a helmet, a race number, and the faintest idea of what the actual hell was going on. Nobody in the dream seemed any wiser.

And at one point I was having a helluva time making the bike move at all, which is a familiar feeling to anyone who’s ever raced ’cross, but this bordered on the ridiculous, like I was trying to cycle through wet concrete with two flats and a dropped chain while the Klingons had a tractor beam on me.

It seemed increasingly likely that the officials would call the race due to there being no actual racing taking place, and I was looking at a DNF in a one-man nationals, when I saw a shooting star in my peripheral vision and abruptly woke up.

There was more to the dream, and I should’ve written it all down while it was still fresh in my mind, but Mia had somehow slipped into the bedroom and was yowling for my attention and grub, not necessarily in that order. Women were hatching schemes in the kitchen. The day was thrust upon me. Coffee was indicated.

I probably should’ve ridden a cyclocross bike but no. After last night it was the road for me, thanks all the same. And I barely made it home before the rain came. No medals or prizes were awarded.

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Posted in Bike stuff, Cyclo-cross, Dreams, Rain, Random bullshit | 11 Comments »

Ash hole

September 8, 2020

The iPhone camera didn’t care for the conditions, and neither did we.

With Labor Day in the rear-view mirror, we’re on the fast, winding descent to fall, the election, winter, The Fear, and the decline and fall of western civilization.

And now here’s Patrick with the weather!

We got a surprise visit from someone’s wildfire smoke last evening, probably Santa Fe’s. Though it could’ve come all the way from California or Colorado, where my sister reported from Fort Fun that clouds of noxious smoke from the Cameron Peak Fire turned day into night.

“We have also had lots of ash falling,” she added.

Here we got only smoke, which made the setting sun look like the devil’s fiery bunghole. The pic doesn’t begin to do it justice. It was as red as the business end of a plutocrat’s cigar as he’s telling you to clear out your desk and hit the bricks.

This morning the sky has an odd, flat, metallic sheen, and the Duke City is enjoying an air-quality alert, though we don’t have to cut it with a knife and chew 20 times before swallowing the way they do out to Californy. It must be tough to sell real estate when so much of it is floating around in the sky.

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Posted in Albuquerque, Fire, Just mumbling along, Random bullshit | 34 Comments »

Laundry, sorted by color

August 27, 2020

I’m all hung up on color, man.

You know you’re bored out of your fucking skull when you start matching hangers to laundry.

Posted in Boredom, Keen insights, Random bullshit | 28 Comments »

Make it March

March 2, 2019

March is coming in like a lawn sprinkler.

The headline is from Robert Heinlein, whose immortal protagonist Lazarus Long frequently employed the phrase when he wanted some yapper to cut to the chase.

So, marching on. …

• I met my new primary-care doc this week and am delighted to report that she is a pleasant young African-American who recently bought a Co-op bicycle from REI. There may be hope for the bike biz, ladies and gentlemen.

• Our lawn guy collars me while prepping our sprawling estate for spring and he sez to me, he sez: “I’m finding all these little rocks in the yard …” I sez to him, I sez: “Oh, that would be from me shoveling snow off the roof.” Look for my forthcoming science-fiction novel, “Flat Roofs Are Stupid,” about a man who travels back in time to teach the Anasazi about peaked roofs.

• Always wear your glasses when scouring the refrigerator for a toothsome tidbit. The other day I was rooting around in there like a blind hog hunting truffles and somehow managed to shoulder a door shelf out of the sonofabitch. Two glass jars hit the brick floor — one containing soy sauce, the other maple syrup — and exploded like cluster bombs. It took both of us to mop up that mess and for about 24 hours the house smelled like someone simmering barbecue sauce in a nursing home.

• And finally, Elon Musk got some press for doing something other than being a douchebag. The SpaceX Crew Dragon rode a Falcon 9 rocket into space and toward the International Space Station. The only passenger was a dummy. No, not that one.

 

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Posted in Random bullshit | 16 Comments »