Hello From Santa Fe, or, What’s Worse Than Setting Up House.

So.  Here we are in Santa Fe, our newly adopted half-home.  I’m here to set up utilities–the computer internet just now working a week after our arrival–and it and all else hasn’t gone according to my plans.

According to my plans.  Now there is one of those strings of words that is so totally fucking worthless that it should be banned by the grammar police.

Anyway, the dogs and I have been hard at work working and supervising the work of others in our attempts to get our new place livable.  We’ve been camping out inside and sometimes outside with the Squirt and Yoda sprawled beside me on the air mattress.  The fucking cat is something else in the altogether.  Honor has been perched high in the big Ponderosa pine in our backyard for the entire week we’ve been here.  I know she has come down for food and water because I’ve been refilling her bowls.  But save the times she growls at neighbors’ cats to let them know there’s a new kitty on Espinacitas Street, she’s kept to herself.

While temps have been unseasonably warm, the humidity is low and not problematic for me.  The guys helping me bitch about the heat and humidity and have no problem blaming Global Warming.  The one Apache helping with my plumbing blames, and here I’ll quote him by saying, he said to me, “You fucking white assholes done ruined the whole world.  Go back to Europe.”

I must say I think he’s right, but I already purchased property here and I’m a quite small part Native American.  The rest of you white right-wing conservative Christian assholes can follow his wishes.  Please.

Speaking of the aforementioned white assholes, I just heard that Herr Schmidt Rommel has named Representitive “Let’s Kill All Social Services” Ryan as his running mate.  Ryan proposes a Federal budget that would bankrupt half the states with its cuts to state support, and he’s Herr Schmidt’s choice.  Classic.

Then again it’s likely that the Tea Baggers forced the cheesehead down his throat with threats to fight Romney’s nomination in Tampa.  That’s my take anyway.

 

OK, I need to go get some rebar and wire and silt fabric so we can get started working.  I’ll try to get back to these pages soon.  Manana, y’all.

 

 

 

 

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5 Responses to “Hello From Santa Fe, or, What’s Worse Than Setting Up House.”

  1. mel says:

    I am glad to hear that you are well and that nothing has gone according to plan. Because that is the plan – that it won’t. We just refuse to believe that fact. Just saying. Miss you buddy!!

  2. Squatlo says:

    Welcome back to Al Gore’s internet! You were missed.

    In your absence we’ve A) found out our new Republican vice prez selection is muchmuchmuchmuchmuch better than the last one, in IQ points, anyway, and B) our Olympics team eats foreigners for lunch.

    Hope you’re able to get on-line more often in the near future, because a Mooner-less blobber is like a Motherless Child… lonely and likely to stray off the path.

    A twelve gauge will bring the kitty down from the tree, and until she’s Earthbound you should probably stop feeding the armadillos. Probably an ordinance against that shit.

    Say hey to Santa Fe!

  3. Whoo hooo! You made it to Santa Fe! Glad to hear you’re making friends with the locals. LOL Good luck with getting the new digs set up – that’s never fun, but I’m sure you’ll be telling us more groovy stories in no time.

  4. admin says:

    Mel. Yep, plans are made to be fucked with. The term “Master Plan” makes my teeth hurt. Few people realize that Adolph Hitler was the first to coin that phrase. Little Nazi fuck.

    Squat. Ryan makes the Repub ticket the “Batshit Stupid Man and Robin The Poor” nominees. Those two teaching economics is like Attila the Hun teaching social skills. If America can elect that didactic duo, maybe Santa Fe wasn’t far enough away. As for the cat, she came down from the tree yesterday morning, peed in my work boots left on the back stoop as I watched from my chair on the portal, and then she prissed over and jumped into my lap. She curled herself into a ball and began to purr and kneed my balls with her talons.

    I don’t get cats.

    Reck. I’m working the Suns and crashing early. All this manual labor is refreshing but kicking my old butt. I have some things to say but no time. I hoe to get some shit posted Tues/Wed. I also need to visit everyone else but later today. The stone for my retaining wall just showed up. Adios.

  5. Katy Anders says:

    I’m a little behind, so it’s going to take me a while to catch up with things here.

    Sounds like everything is going well for you and the critters.

    Look into that going back to Europe thing, though. I’m not sure that it would reverse global warming, but… Scandinavia is probably going to be great farm land in about 15 years!

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