ZZZZZZZZ

Sorry it's been a while, but the STW has been cracking the whip on this home remodle project. Starting the third week and the Master Suite is coming along. Got the ceramic floors in the bathroom, vanity, and closet and the wood in the bedrooom all this weekend.Yeah, I said wood. But I'm too damn tired to do anything about it.

Enjoy an old link while I'm sleeping it off.

PLUMB STUPID

When it comes to handymanliness, I inherited a couple genes. Oh, I can handle a little rough carpentry, some painting. I can lay tile with a little help, and I have yet to electrocute myself changing a light switch. But when the Missus decided it was time to remodel our bedroom I was a little apprehensive.

We've re-done the rest of the house. I knew I could handle our bedroom. It was the our bathroom that had me sweating bullets. I knew the crappy wall tiles around the tub, and a leaky bathtub/shower faucet were going to be the death of me.

Ever the trooper, the Missus took to deconstructing the bathroom wall while I was out. (Figures she and Krusty would take the fun part) When I got home, the bathroom was down to the studs and my task lay exposed. Remove the old faucet, put in place when the house was built in 1974, and replace it with a new, un-leaky one.

I hate plumbing. Nothing ever works like it is supposed to the first time I put it together. Something always leaks. I always cuss. And that's with PVC. When it comes to copper pipes. I scream like a little girl.

I figured it was as good a time as any for some male bonding, so I called in the big guns to help. Pappa Turd showed up early with all his assorted tools. We shut off the water and commenced to sweatin' -- the pipes to remove the old faucet.

Then it was off to the giant Lowes-rent hardware store for a new one.
Back a the ranch our open pipe just laughed when they saw what we had in store. Assembly was easy. Sweating the shit back together was a bitch. Eight hours and 80,000 trips to the water main later. The damn thing still leaked.

Plumber showed up the next morning, disassembled our mess, installed new copper, and reassembled the whole damn thing in 20 minutes.

Guess who won't be installing our new tub.

WONDER IF HALLMARK HAS A CARD FOR THAT?

I didn't know there was such a thing. The Swami of the Story Idea over at tv news grapevine juts hepped me to the fact that it's National Take a Photog to Lunch Week. I remember Randy Tatano when he was buying ice-cream for sweaty photogs in Mobile, Alabama. Tatano's joined the legion of suits that like to make a living telling others how to run their business, but unlike others, he hasn't forgotten what he learned on the steets. Namely, that the way to a photog's heart is through his gullet.

I'm gonna get Randy's post drafted into the form of a resolution and speed it over to the Senator's Forum post haste. Maybe we can make it official. Wonder if Hallmark has shit-brown cardstock.

VACATION

Sorry to interrupt the expose on turd production so soon into series. With recent developments it would be easy to surmise that my big mouth has gotten me into trouble again. Thanks for your concern, but I was on vacation . . . a planned one.Last Saturday, Team Polisher packed the turd-brown Taurus and headed to the land of hayseeds . . . No, not Lower Livingston. I'm talking real hillbillies . . . Gatlinburg, Tennessee where the only way to tell between a local and a tourist is to count teeth. We hooked up with the pretty side of the family for a week of good ole American consumerism.The family spent weeks researching the best secluded cabin to stick 15 Coonasses, and settled on one far away from anyone else. The view was spactacular. The hike to the creek extreme. The drive to town long. Everything was perfect . . . until we tried to shower.

The water was less than fragrant. In fact, it smelled like it had been run through a sweaty photog's ass before hitting the shower head. When anyone in the 5-bedroom uber-house turned on a faucet, the resulting odor sent coonasses scattering for the doors like cockroaches at the apocalypse.

We were determined not to let a little ass-water funk up our entire vacation.We hitched a ride with Smoky Mountain Outdoors.Hiked Cade's Coveup to Abram's Falls.Jumped on an ATV or 5 to take in the back country.We took in a couple shows,Rode horses, raced go carts, bungee jumped, sling-shot a few cousins over the strip, sky dove in one of those wind tubes, and packed as much family action as possible into 5 days.

Yesterday, we returned to the Polisher ranch. After 11 hours on the road, unpacking, washing seven days worth of clothes for four, the STW and I snuggled into bed exhausted. The light-hearted days of Gatlinburg a distant past. The stresses of returning to work a looming reality. Mrs. Polisher even said so.

I cocked one leg and farted. Now our bedroom smells just like our cabin, and we can have a little vacation every time we have beans for supper.

I'LL BE BACK. . .

eventually.