Our Lady of Perpetual Hell

A pair of the severed feet found over the past year has now been matched to one man.

If anybody reading this has some tools better than the high quality ones I bought in the dollar section of Target

and likes to smash shit to pieces, have I got a job for you!

I dunno what the hell it is (but git mah pitcher beside it!)(Laurie, you’re prolly the only one who will get that reference), but I found it in my back yard shed when I moved in.

At first, I thought it was a dog house. But it has no entrance. Then I thought mebbe it was a bird house. But, again, no holes. I flipped it over and found nuthin’. Except spiders, natch. And I beat them all to hell with a broom while fear-dancing around it. Lucky my back yard has a privacy fence around it, eh?

Best I can figger is that it was the decoration on the house’s or the garage’s roof at some point in the past. Although it’s not shaped to fit on a roof. Unless some previous roof was flat. Beats me.

In any case, I gotta get rid of it to free up space in the shed. See, I am inheriting some exercise equipment and am going to set up a gym in the garage, so I need to move some stuff I have in the garage now into the shed, instead. That means the gnome home–or whatever it is–hasta go.

My cheap-ass wrench won’t keep its grip tightened so I can’t loosen the nuts. If I hadda mallet, I’d just smash the shit out of it. So, y’know, if your toolkit is better equipped than mine (and whose isn’t?), feel free to drop by and dismantle this thing for me. There’s plenty of beer in the fridge.

During the time I worked at Records On Wheels, we had a security system installed to try to prevent all the little skater kids from stealing stuff. We’d insert the security tabs inside the imported disks, tapes, and albums before we sealed them or just stick them on the outside of the domestics. If we didn’t deactivate them after purchase at the checkout stand, the customer would set off the alarms when s/he walked through the scanner at the door. Pretty straightforward. Pretty easy system to circumvent, too, of course. I mean how hard is it to peel off the wrapping and remove the sticker? Not exactly rocket science. I don’t think we were allowed to search through personal bags, but we were pretty scrupulous about having customers leave their bags at the counter when they came in to shop.

Anyhow, one day when I was at the cash register, a customer repeatedly set off the alarm. He’d paid for his stuff and it had been scanned, repeatedly. But still the alarm went off whenever he walked through. The store was busy and loud and I was getting frazzled and he kept giving me these doofus looks whenever he tried to leave and alarm went off. Like, “H’yuck, there goes the alarm again! Ain’t that crazy! Lawdamussy, what can be making it go off?”

I muttered, “Must be the plate in your head.”

…All that by way of introduction to this.

I especially like the note that advises customers, ‘If you don’t know the alphabet very well or you haven’t been fully trained on how to put records back where they belong, please leave and come back with someone who can accompany you through this confusing process.’

D’ja ever get the feeling that you’re being watched, even when there’s nobody else around?

Sitting out on my deck, I find that feeling comes over me. It creeps up and climbs into my lap with me. Dunno why. I mean, after all, it’s just me and the birch tree out there.

Just a tree. And me. And a creeping sense of dread. Ooh, did you ever see Evil Dead? There’s this scene in the film where a girl is running through the woods and the woods are chasing her. And they catch her. And they do unmentionable things to her.

I don’t know what made me think of that.

I just don’t know. But I think I’ll take my little laptop and go inside now.

At work, we had a fundraiser for the victims of the earthquake in China and one of the methods for fundraising was a penny sale. There were tables full of prizes you could win. So you’d buy your tickets and cast them in the direction of whatever prize you hoped to win. Well, one of my colleagues won a set of silk pajamas. What you see below (and click on the image for a larger picture) are the care instructions (er, I guess) on the back of the pjs’ packaging… Now, I could be wrong, but it seems to be saying something about the gender-neutering power of thin and neuteral soaps, and warning not to bask in the sun and, umm, I dunno if it’s advising something about a post-coital wet spot or something else about, *ahem*, doing something unmentionable involving very hot (w)holes. You tell me.