"Every government interference in the economy consists of giving an unearned benefit, extorted by force, to some men at the expense of others." Ayn Rand

Thursday, August 11, 2005

My House is a Money Pit


Richard and I bought our house in the year 2000; we fell in love with it on the internet, traveled to Maryland from New York to see it, and bought it on the spot.

They say that love makes you blind. Stupid, rash and impulsive. It's so very true. There were so many things about this house that we didn't notice. And we've been paying out the nose ever since. Don't get me wrong, I absolutely love my house. It's beautiful. My gardens are wonderful. It's our first home; it's the first real home that our kids ever had.

The realtor, George, who resembled Col. Sanders without a beard, repeated several times that a neurosurgeon was the seller; he was obviously just trading up. We were (as George had hoped) duly impressed. After living here five years, I truly think that the neurosurgeon had the brains to get out just before things started breaking down.

My sister- and brother-in-law lived here for a year before we moved in; they were building their own house. We stayed in New York and let Maggie finish middle school, so that she would start high school here. It started fairly soon after Diane and Joe moved in. Hmmm, funny smell. Septic system needs pumping. No problem. Must just be full.

Approximately four weeks later, the septic system had to be pumped again. Uh oh, must be something more. It was. It was something MORE. A new leachfield had to be dug. Hello, Mr. Leon Johnson? Can you dig a really big hole in my backyard? You can? $5,000? OK. (Several days pass....) Hello, Mrs. Demers? We need to dig down more...you've got clay. That's going to be another $1,000. OK. " The Big Hole project gets done. Then comes the repair work....topsoil, wheelbarrels, shovels. Grass seed. We're grateful, because at least we'll never have to worry about the septic system again.

Cut to year 2005....mid-August. I've been meaning to call Roto-Rooter and get the septic tank drained (they recommend that you do it every three years). It's a routine thing...we've had a ton of rain. The nice Roto-Rooter man comes (his name is Dwayne, and I'm so sure that this man is horribly underpaid). He gets his big hoses, and he opens everything up. He sets about working on our system. About 45 minutes later, he's at the front door. "Mrs. Demers, uh, can I show you something in the back?" I have a feeling that this is NOT going to be good news.

Our leachfield is backing up into the third distribution box. For those of you who aren't familiar with these things (as I wasn't until Dwayne schooled me)...all the shit is going from the leachfield to the well, instead of vice versa. We need a leachfield rejuvination. Also, there's a cracked cover on one of the boxes.

This is going to cost $1,000.

So now I'm trying to find Mr. Leon Johnson who dug our leachfield. I've got a phone number, but I haven't seen any of his trucks around in a long time. Maybe he took everybody's money and ran. If I can find him, and it is indeed his fault, we're going to try and get him to right his wrongs. Otherwise, we're stuck again.

This is so shitty. (ha ha, a pun....)

Thanks for letting me vent.

Thursday, August 04, 2005

NY slTimes Maintains Status Quo...Continues to "Shark Jump"

I just read on Drudge that the NY Times has opened an "exhausive investigative report" into the adoption records of John and Jane Roberts' children, Josie (5 years old) and Jack (4 years old). Both children were adopted from Latin America as infants.

HOW DARE THEY DO THIS.

They can't find anything on Roberts, so they look at his children? This is utterly unbelieveable.

The records are sealed, as they should be. I'm sure that the Times will cry to the ACLU, somehow feeling as though their civil rights are being violated because these files are sealed.

This makes me sick.

Wednesday, August 03, 2005

Poetic Justice

Once there was a teenaged boy, who was liked by a teenaged girl. The boy toyed with the girl's heart for a while...and then decided to date the girl's very good friend.

The girl was very hurt for awhile, but time has helped heal the wounds.

The girl was kind enough to invite the boy and the very good friend over tonight to swim.

They accepted.

One thing about this boy though...he's really afraid of dogs.

It's nice to see the girl be so forgiving.

However, the girl's mother is not so forgiving. Boys who toy with her daughter's heart are on the list forever.

So when Roxanne, the 204 lb St. Bernard
(who has never liked this boy), and Mookie, the 65 pound Lab/Chesapeake mix (who loves to swim in the pool) went running outside, the mother smiled, ever so slightly.

When Mookie jumped into the pool and started to swim after the boy, the mother laughed out loud.

The mother went back into the house, knowing if she heard the boy scream like a girl, as much as she would enjoy it, she would be no more good for the day.

Poetic Justice.





WOOF WOOF

Fear the Stache, U.N.

Shamelessly cut and pasted from Preston at Six Meat Buffet, who says that the stache will be the new red ribbon, the "BOLTON AWARENESS STACHE!"

I think that we should all wear them.

Oh, so true...

Tuesday, August 02, 2005

Being Bobby Brown's Toilet

Have any of you seen the new "reality" show starring (and I use the term starring very loosely) Bobby Brown and Whitney Houston?

While laying in bed the other night, I was looking on my 100 channels for something to watch, which meant I was just holding the channel up button down, and going around and around and around. There's nothing good on tv.

Until I landed on Bravo's show Being Bobby Brown.

I watched it, not unlike one would watch a train wreck or a car accident. Morbid curiousity, horrific facination, sheer disbelief.

I discovered that I wouldn't want to "be" Bobby Brown. Nor would I want to "be" Whitney Houston. Nor would I want to "be" anywhere around these people.

They are awful. They appear to have a lack of social and parenting skills. (The way the younger daughter looks at her parents...it seems to be a cross between disbelief and hatred.) There seems to be a substance abuse problem.

Words I thought of while I was watching this show:

Self-centered, self-important, blowhard, egocentric, egomaniacal, egotistic, egotistical, grandstanding, hot-dogging, know-it-all, narcissistic, self-absorbed, self-indulgent, self-interested, self-involved, self-seeking, self-serving, selfish, swelled head, egoistic, egoistical, egomaniacal, egotistic, egotistical, megalomaniac, narcissistic, pompous, self-indulgent, self-interested, self-loving, self-serving, selfish, stuck-up.
There seems to be a serious "lack of class" problem here.

Matt Drudge had a link to a story the other day. Seems ole' Bob and Whit were having a romantic moment, Bob just having proposed again to Whit. Unfortunately, the moment was spoiled by Mr. Dumpy coming to call. But wait! Want to know the best part of all of this? It's all on tv! We can share these special moments with Bob and Whit!
But immediately after Houston accepted Brown's proposal, bodily functions became the dominant topic of discussion for the night, with the former NEW EDITION frontman dashing from the table to the bathroom while his wife explained to viewers of reality show BEING BOBBY BROWN, "He's had the runs since yesterday."
But wait! Picture in your head the glamarous Whitney Houston, blessed with one of the most beautiful voices in my lifetime...star of My Bodyguard with Kevin Costner...

Whitney then opened her mouth:
Houston's imminent need to defecate soon followed, after she complained about the cramps she was experiencing.

Before bolting from the table, she showed off her bloated stomach and affectionately told her husband, "I'm about to do the doo. I'm about to drop it on the one - a boat lad."
These are the role models that are on television? Give me a good book instead.