Category: truth is stranger than…

It is assault, I tell you!

I have this neighbor. Well, ok, I have a lot of neighbors, but there is one in particular…

Who, let’s be frank, has no taste.

How do I know this?

Well, the neighbor *loves* to crank up their stereo. Yup. They crank up their tinny sounding piece of eeeelectronic equipment loud enough so the whole neighborhood can take part in their musical selections.

A sociologist postulated that when male humans crank their stereos super loud, they are essentially marking their territory. They are forcing people to look at them and forcing all around to succumb to their musical selection.

If so, then my neighbor is a marking fool. He may as well pee on a mile radius.

This fellow (I assume it’s a guy, I’m not sure, actually) likes to boot up his sound gear at about 8:00am on Saturday and Sunday mornings. Just in time to wake me up from a nice weekend doze.

So, what sort of music does this fellow play? Do you have guesses?

Gangsta rap? Screetching metal? Blazing punk?

Nope.

Sixties oldies? Big Band? Yanni?

No, but getting closer.

The music this fellow cranks out across my air space is smooth jazz. Not the good jazz, say Theonius Monk, Charlie Parker or Miles Davis.

Nope. The smooth kind. Plinky plunky. Music that reminds you of sitting in the waiting room at the dentist’s office.

Cranked up loud. Bouncing off the hills and homes in our fair town.

This has been going on for a while now. And the gent has recently taken to cranking his crazy beats around 5:30 in the evening, so that all coming home from work can enjoy his pee-tinged music.

Today, I cracked. Today, I lost it.

Today, he was playing the theme from “Moonlighting” by Al Jarreau at full volume.

Now look, I like Al. He has some fine songs. I don’t resent anyone enjoying the mellow ways of Mr. Jarreau. However…I don’t need this blared out into my world, uninvited.

The acoustics in my neighborhood are funny, but The Good Man and I are pretty sure it’s the landlord of the triplex one lot over, but we can’t be sure.

When I DO find the offender, I am going to deliver a collection of BB King recordings with a note that says, “GET SOME SOUL, mother eff word!”

Oooh, that’s troubling

Last evening, I was heating up some soup on my electric stove. I managed to drop a bit right in that space between burner coil and the stovetop.

So, stupidly, I stuck my finger down in there to wipe it out. I was thinking, at the time, I don’t want that bit of soup to burn and smoke up the place.

Predictably, my finger accidentally touched the now hot burner coil, and instead of burning soup, I burned my skin.

I leapt back then turned quickly to the sink to run the burn under cold water.

As I rinsed the burn, I thought, “hmm, my food sure smells good!”

The soup was still on the burner, beginning to warm up.

Only problem was, the soup was tomato, and the smell I was savoring had a more meaty tone.

I turned to look, and saw a little smoke rising from the burner from under the pan. It was then I realized that the little bit of skin I’d left behind from the burn was now cooking, a little tomato soup on top for seasoning.

Let me say that again. What I thought, “ooh that smells tasty” about was my OWN SKIN cooking.

I’m now a little skeeved out at myself.

It’s like meeting a really great guy at the party, only to find out he’s your first cousin.

It’s how Luke Skywalker felt when he found out that the woman he’d been perving out about was his twin sister.

The Good Man does, occasionally, refer to me as his “tasty little morsel.”

I just never knew that was also true pan-fried and served with a side of rice.

And a nice chianti.

: shudder :

Well isn’t that peculiar?

So, in Albuquerque they gave me a rental car with Texas plates.

Let me get this straight…I am a New Mexican who lives in California driving a car with Texas plates?

There is a joke in there somewhere. I’ll need another margarita to figure it out.

Pointed Art

Seen around the interwebs, a sculpture by Chinese artist Chen Wenling depicts, roughly, a gaseous Wall Street bull pinning Bernie Madoff against a wall.

Not sure what it all means. But, strangely, I like it.

Source: BBC link with a larger photo.