Greetings!

(Apologies to those long-time readers who have no idea what I'm going to be talking about for the first little bit. Let's just say that some people really need to get a life.)

So if you are wondering why you landed here when you were trying to get to the Blog That Shan't Be Named, well here's the story. Debbie and I live in a senior RV park. We're not seniors, but we're here by special dispensation, mostly to keep my parents from getting into too much trouble when they are down here in Florida. You've all heard the wild stories. That seems to be a big problem with a certain other non-senior who also lives here. We'll call him Dorothy Dickhead. He cannot stand the thought of not being the center of attention, so every spring, when all his adoring fans fly back north, is a tough time for ol' DD. He usually responds by kicking up some sort of fuss here in the park, usually dragging the park's corporate owners into it. This year, he was absolutely beside himself that an asshole like me would be working for his park and demanded to know why the owner of that horrible Blog That Shan't Be Named was employed by the park's corporate overlords. Well, the CEO of said corporation, we'll call him Nancy No-Nuts, responded just as you would expect the CEO of a large corporation that owns close to 100 properties across the country as well as in Canada to respond to such a minor kerfluffle kicked up by a nobody living on one of said properties; throw his management team under the bus.

So to keep the story short, the deal is this: in order for me to have a seasonal job here in the park and not dump more shit on people who have already had more than enough dumped on them over the last year, the Blog That Shan't Be Named, with its hundred or so readers (it was only a dozen until DD sent a link to it to every e-mail address he could find), had to go. So now you are here. And in case Nancy No-Nuts is reading this: If you think I'm making any other accommodations for you, your corporation or Dorothy Dickhead, you can take that and your job, fold them until they are all points, and shove them straight up your ass.

Oh, and one last note to Dorothy Dickhead: Once again, thank you for proving again to everyone here that you are a... well... a dickhead. And one more thing; you ever, ever, EVER call, or even speak to my parents again, it will not end well for you. You have been warned.

Enough.

Now back to our regularly scheduled programming.

We seem to be past the worst of our computer issues. Debbie is working on her new Win7 computer with no more than the expected issues, and sharing things between two like versions of Windows is a dream compared to getting and keeping a Win7 and a WinXP machine on speaking terms. Our main machine is back from the shop with a new, properly-sized power supply and seems to be running much cooler and quieter than before. While it was there, I had the guy do a deep clean on everything. He found a bit of adware hiding out in some dark corners, but nothing like I expected. He installed a bunch of new anti-virus, anti-spyware, anti-adware, anti-everything software. I'm not sure I approve. A lot of it may end up in the dumpster. It turned a screaming-fast quad-core system into a dog. There is a full-minute lag between clicking on a program icon and when there is any indication that the system intends to even start to load the program. Internet pages now load slower in Chrome than they used to in IE. Some software won't run at all. And for some reason I cannot fathom, all the drive mappings for my external drives were changed. Understand that I do not store anything on my local drives. Every program had to be brought up and redirected to the new drive letter mappings. Every. Single. Program. The fun ones were the programs that wouldn't load because the drive they were expecting to be there wasn't and instead of giving an error and allowing me to correct the problem, they would just give up and shut themselves back down. I love crapware.

Anyway, as of a couple hours ago, everything seems to be more or less back to normal, whatever that means.

So as I may have mentioned, I have this new job working here in the park. Basically I walk for eight hours a day either lugging a weed wacker, a pump-up sprayer full of Roundup, or a leaf blower. Mindless doesn't begin to describe it. Eventually, I think I will be doing more of the minor fix-it type of maintenance and maybe checking on the pool every day, but for now, yeah. I need to find an unabridged version of Toynbee's A Study of History on tape. Oh, and two separate people tried (unsuccessfully thus far) to get me fired in my first two days on the job. The above drama was all on day one. Then on day two, some asshat comes out and grabs me while I'm running the weed wacker and starts giving me a bunch of crap. So I gave it right back to him. After spending twenty minutes screaming on his phone loud enough I could hear him two lots away with the weed wacker running, precisely nothing happened. And now he smiles and waves and says, "Hi!" every time he sees me around the park. Just. Plain. Weird.

And because of work, I've yet to get the cruise pictures off the camera. Any day now. At least the bottom of the to-do pile is in site. I've had all kinds of bizarre time-sucks over the last month; find missing people, help sell used cars, help pack up people who are moving, running for office at the Moose Lodge, etc. But I've managed to either do most of it or at least shove the problem off on someone else. Sheesh. I had hoped to do some work on our trailer tomorrow, assuming it ever stops raining, but I may need to keep chipping away on the pile here next to my computer.

Debbie is still cranking out cruises like it's peak season. I'm not sure what the story is with that. Everyone trying to get in one last hurrah before the floor drops out of the world again? Whatever the reason, we ain't complainin'. Da green be rollin' in and dat's all dat matters.

So yeah. That's our life.

Anecdote for the week:


I could so do that....