firing squad
new years eve was spent on my front porch with several of my friends playing “name that gun shot”. beginning at 7 p.m. and ending somewhere around 2 a.m. you could hear the echos of semi-automatics and what someone claimed to be a .41 desert eagle. at several points during the evening i announced that i was going to call the police only to be rebutted and told that they would do nothing. of course they wouldn’t…kincaid won’t give them a raise. they’ll sit in their squad cars drinking their coffee and laughing at the city that hates them. as d-rock so eloquently stated: “i don’t care if my garbage man is unhappy. i do care if my policeman is unhappy.”
quite right. an unhappy policeman is a policeman who doesn’t give two shiny shits if your house is broken into, or if you were mugged, or if a bullet went whizzing through your living room striking your very fanciful topiaries from restoration hardware.

you kids and your crazy, mixed-up plumbing
i can’t think of a better way to spend the new year than to clean up a flooded basement. the plumbing in our house came to a crawl over the past couple of days causing any draining to back up and spill into the washing machine and subsequently the basement floor. i called my contractor connections and had them come out today to roto-rooter the line. now all is well and dry. we can now flush the toilet and take a shower without having to plug the bathtub first. i think i’m going to send $100 to sally struthers in africa for those kids who don’t have plumbing.