I Hate Having to Put a Title on Everything

I guess I could just go with ‘stuff’ when I have nothing for a title.

COPS on teevee tonight is all about prostitutes.  It’s sad how little money they ask for.  It’s sad how the cops hassle them.  It’s sad that little ball takes up so much time.  I watched The International last night and it made me very angry.  I listen to enough talk radio to know that Tiger Woods paid one prostitute $15,000.  And neither of them are getting hassled by police like the men and women on COPS right now.  I guess if you pay/charge enough . . .

We continued the Ike repairs today.  When it was bitterly cold these past few weeks, I couldn’t run the heat because I had sealed up the return air hole that had collapsed with sheet-rock.  Today, we got a new register and a lot of help at Home Depot.  I looked, and everything we bought today was made in the U.S.  (More about this later.)  It took me forever to figure out how to get the damned thing in the hole, and Roberto was there the whole way.

It’s in the ceiling.  Just above the fridge.  The new fridge is little and we were able to move it easily.  I pounded out the sad sheet-rock and dealt with the moldy insulation.  (I’m still sneezing, despite the precautions I took.)  In the end, I muscled it in — Roberto said I looked like Bruce Willis in Die Hard.  A complement?

We are cold no more, thanks to Roberto.  I couldn’t have done it alone.

Part of the ceiling is still drooping and some of it is close to the kitchen light.  I cannot repair it.  I will have to call someone in and Dora will have to go on a holiday to get it fixed.

We have heat.  And I’m not as worried about dying next week as I was when I faced dental work last time.  I’m a little worried, but not like last time.  Everything will be ok.

It’s really amazing how much stuff is made in the U.S.  If you just pay attention to where something is made and don’t get distracted by a few pennies difference, you can almost always avoid buying anything from China.  The register, plaster and sheet-rock tape we bought today were all made in the USA.  The Q-tips I bought the other day were made in the U.S., and they were only a few cents more than the ones made in China.  Shampoo?  Made in the U.S.  Shower cleaner?  Made in the U.S.  Bread tins with lids I used to bake bread for my co-workers?  Made in the USA.  Crap co-workers and boss gave me?  Made in China.

Don’t get me wrong — I love my French Magimix.  I only have problems with things made in China.

America’s Most Wanted is now looking into a wingnut cult.  There is hope in every aspect of life.


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