Prologue | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20A | 20B | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25-26 | 27 | 28-29 | 30 | 31 | 32 | 33 | 34 | 35-36 | 37 | 38A | 38B | 38C | 38D | 39 | 40 | 41
PART II
ELEVATOR TO THE GALLOWS
42
“MARINA.”
She groaned and batted the hand away, snuggling deeper into her sleep.
“Marina, Sugga, c’mon, let’s get you to bed.”
“Mmrrmph.”
“You’re gonna have a crick in your neck to beat the band.”
Her mind, now disturbed out of its unconscious bliss, noted the humor in his voice.
She did, indeed, have a crick in her neck, once she decided to check and see. She opened her eyes. It was dark in the room, dark outside. It had been an overcast late afternoon when she’d settled into this chair crying and now it was dark. “What time is it?” she asked, then cleared her throat.
“Six.”
Six a.m. Decent people didn’t come home at six a.m. stinking like a distillery, stale cigarette smoke, and rancid perfume.
Then she remembered: Trey wasn’t a decent person and neither was she.
“I close at four. I do books and inventory before I go to bed.”
“You stink,” she blurted.
“I own a speakeasy,” he said dryly. “Bathroom was occupied an’ I got a nice quiet shower in a nice quiet house with a nice quiet bed to come home to now.”
With that, he was gone, leaving the remnants of his wicked life lingering in the air.
She moved carefully, glad he was gone so he couldn’t see her struggle with her aching joints and muscles, couldn’t see her stumbling because her legs were so weak and trembly, couldn’t see her tripping across the unfamiliar floor over the corner of an unfamiliar rug, bumping into the unfamiliar table, and slamming into the doorjamb of the unfamiliar kitchen. She barely managed to find and turn on the lights—which blinded her painfully—before getting to the sink and upchucking. There was nothing in her stomach but bile, which was as fitting as a thunderstorm on her wedding day in a funeral chapel, wearing a white wedding dress that made her look ill. That was about three cruel jokes wrapped up in one.
“Aw, hey,” came his voice, then his hand on her back, his other hand smoothing her hair. She was thoroughly mortified. Husbands shouldn’t see their wives in any state but perfectly dressed. They certainly shouldn’t be helping their aching and pregnant wives upchuck in the kitchen sink. She hoped Bon Ami was in the cupboards.
“There you go,” he crooned at her, wiping her mouth with a cold wet towel. “’Mon over here’t the table, right, good.” He shoved the towel in her hand and opened the refrigerator. He opened a bottle of pop and put it to her lips. “Ginger ale,” he murmured. “Take a sip, now, there’s a good girl. Hold onto the bottle now an’ I’ll get you some crackers.”
Marina sat slouched in the ladder-back chair and hung her head. Husbands didn’t do such things. They weren’t supposed to, and that she couldn’t take care of herself without letting him see her weakness proved she was not decent.
“Try this,” he muttered, tipping her chin up and tapping her bottom lip with a cracker.
It took a while to get herself situated enough he could pull up a chair to supervise her recuperation.
“Why—” She cleared her throat. “Why are you doing this?”
“Ain’t nobody else here,” he said simply.
“You aren’t supposed to— How do you know what to do?”
“I ain’ no stranger to holding a puking woman’s hair.”
“Are you laughing at me?” she asked hoarsely.
“Only about how delicate nice women think men should be.”
What an odd choice of words. “Delicate? You?”
“Yeah, that distracted you. I knew it would. Men have to be sheltered from any hint that their women are just as disgusting as they are.”
Marina whimpered.
“Ain’ nothin’ to be ashamed of. Humans are animals. We’re disgusting. You ain’ never gonna be worse’n what I see at work every night.”
“Even,” she asked in a small voice, “um, that?”
“What that?”
“Um, the … indecent … thing. That, um, we, um … How I got in the family way.”
“It ain’t the most disgusting thing I’ve ever seen.”
“What was?” she asked before she thought.
“Babies born,” he said resolutely. “That is disgusting.”
“You’ve seen—”
“Sugga, I have personally caught two babies. Now, you together enough to let me help you get into the tub? Got a cool bath waitin’ for ya.”
That sounded like the most wonderful thing in the world right then, right after knowing this person was willing to take care of her in ways no other wives got taken care of. She had borne all this in silence and secret because that was what strong women did. Even Sister Albright said that. But Sister Albright had had a hard life and she still did in different ways what with Bishop’s job and church. She was used to being self-sufficient, whether she wanted to be or not.
“’Mon now.”
She let him help her to her feet, up the stairs with her arm draped around his shoulders and his arm around her waist, into the bathroom where he began to take her dress off.
Her wedding dress.
It occurred to her that this was her wedding night. It hadn’t gone at all the way Sister Albright said it would.
“This dress is pretty, but it ain’t you,” he muttered as he worked the buttons in the back.
Marina couldn’t decide if she was more embarrassed at the fact that she was being undressed by a man or relieved that someone was helping her. She couldn’t unbutton all those herself.
“I don’t like it either,” she blurted.
“Didn’t give you a lotta time to make anything, did I? I know that ain’t your work; it’s too sloppy.”
That was one of the nicest things anybody had ever said to her.
“Lift up.”
Marina raised her arms dutifully so he could pull it over her head. He tossed it into the hallway, then helped her out of her underthings until she was nude and trying to shield herself.
“You don’t remember,” he said matter-of-factly while he helped her into the tub. It was, indeed, nice and cool. The breeze through the window didn’t help; it was hot and humid. “But I’ve seen, touched, kissed, and licked damn near every inch of your naked body.”
Marina choked and dropped her face in her hands.
“I don’t know how anybody could tell you was pregnant through those trousers when you don’t look too much different from before. But even if you were big as a house, I could still look at you all day long.”
He’d change his mind once she got big as a house.
“I’mma leave you to soak. I’m beat, my dogs are barkin’, an’ I’mma have to trust you not to drown yourself and get to bed on your own, got me?”
Marina would like nothing more. “Yes.”
“An’ if you feel like goin’ back to sleep, don’t go back downstairs or make up a pallet in the other room. Rule number two: You sleep with me.”
43
TREY SIGHED IN utter bliss when he sank down into his brand new mattress in his brand new bed, the one he hadn’t slept in yet. It was heaven. He didn’t examine why he wanted her to sleep with him, but right now he didn’t care whether she came to bed or not. He just wanted his first good night’s sleep since he was twelve years old.
* * *
When he awoke, the room was dark and he immediately panicked, rolling to his feet and casting about for his clothes. That was when he saw the sliver of sunlight on the floor. It was bright. Since the bedroom window faced west, that meant it was mid-afternoon. He stilled his thumping heart and flopped back onto the bed, reaching to the nightstand for the alarm clock. Three p.m. She must have drawn the drapes so he could sleep.
If getting married and taking care of a sick and heartbroken wife was the price he had to pay for this night’s sleep, it was worth it.
He looked over at her side of the bed, but he couldn’t tell if she’d slept in it because it was a small bed and he slept sloppy. Now he was getting a whiff of bacon, biscuits, and coffee.
Oh, God, he couldn’t be that lucky, could he?
Again he rolled out of bed and pulled on the trousers he’d discarded last night. He used the restroom in peace—twenty-four hours of marriage and his life was already a hundred times easier—then padded down the stairs to see Marina at the sink washing dishes, dressed in Levi’s and a sleeveless top in pink gingham, her cute short permed hair covered by a matching bandanna. All that pink made her skin look rosy. He was so shocked he blurted, “Your mama let you wear those?”
She jumped and turned around, her hand to her heaving chest. “Golly, Trey, you scared me.”
He gestured at her. “Levi’s? Lot tighter than usual. An’ that shirt ain’t your style.”
She shook her head. “Sister Albright wears these. Different color top for which day of the week and that day’s chores, although she only wears colors that flatter her complexion. She calls it her uniform. You don’t have to worry about getting dirty no matter what you have to do that day, the tops aren’t so loose they get caught in anything—well, mine are because … well—pockets everywhere. You don’t have to wear an apron, and they never wear out. I did a lot of housework and cooking for her while I was there, so she got me my own set.”
Trey nodded, impressed. “Good thinking.”
“You don’t mind?” she asked hesitantly, not looking at him, her face flushed. “They’re men’s trousers so some of their congregation look down on her for it.”
“Wear the right clothes for the job,” he said absently as he sauntered to the table and plucked a piece of bacon off a plate piled high. “Use the right tools for the job. Wouldn’t fry bacon in a sauce pan, wouldja?”
“Um, if I had to.”
“But you don’t and by the way,” he added, stuffing the bacon in his mouth and grabbing a fluffy biscuit. “This is pure heaven. Goddamn, Marina, you keep this up, I’ll forget my budget and let you spend me blind. No cat in town would blame me.”
He didn’t miss the pleased little smile she tried to hide.
“Thank you.” She turned back to the sink, and damn him if he didn’t mind the view, her ass in those jeans which clung to it the way her modest trousers didn’t.
He approached her and slid his arms around her, pressing his mouth to her cheek.
She stiffened, but he should’ve known she would. “Just a hug. We didn’t do that when we were courting. Or kissin’ either.”
“But,” she said in a small voice, her body tense, “we did … that. Thing.”
“It don’t count,” he said. “Far as I’m concerned, you’re a virgin. You got spiked and didn’t know no better.”
She slowly relaxed.
“But someday, we gotta become man and wife. I mean, if you want more babies, ain’t no gettin’ around it. I don’t mind.”
“All right,” she said amiably.
But instead of being reassured, Trey was suspicious. He pulled away from her. “Not sure what that means,” he said abruptly. “The way you said it.”
She looked over her shoulder at him, confused. “It means all right. That’s what good wives do … ”
She trailed off as his temper roused immediately. “I am not gonna be a chore, Marina.” Her expression was so confused it was painful, but he didn’t care. “Fucking me better not turn into a goddamned chore.”
She gasped and clapped her hands over her mouth at his profanity. Through her fingers, she whimpered, “What … That word? I know it’s bad, but … ”
“‘Fucking’ is having sex,” he said flatly. “Makin’ babies, makin’ love, bein’ indecent, birds’n’bees, beast with two backs, nookie, hundred ways o’ sayin’ it.”
She was clearly horrified by his language but confused by why he was angry, so she probably didn’t know what questions to ask. He shoved his fingers through his hair and started to pace. “Tell me,” he growled, “exactly what you’ve been told about sex.”
“Uh … I … Sister Albright said it’s something good women do for their husbands.”
“Yeah, I don’t believe she said that,” he said flatly. “Albright ain’t a cat who’d tolerate bein’ a chore and her history ain’t clean. Try again. What exactly did she say?”
She took a deep breath and looked away in thought. “She really did say that, that’s what good women do.”
“Context,” he snapped. “What’d she say all the way around that?”
“She said a good husband would be considerate and make it not horrible. She said she thought you might be that kind of man, but couldn’t guarantee it. Since I don’t remember.”
“‘Not horrible,’” he repeated, wanting to strangle Liz Albright for her delicacy. “A good husband makes it so his wife won’t lay there like a dead fish.”
Marina’s face scrunched up. “That’s exactly what she said.”
“‘Not horrible,’” he insisted, “ain’t the point.”
“Trey,” she said with a sigh, “I don’t remember anything about what we did together. I only know what Sister Albright described.”
“I wish you’d remember when you said, ‘Oh, God, Trey, harder’!”
Her eyes widened and her mouth dropped open and her color fled, looking at him as if he’d stabbed her in the heart.
“Aw, Marina, I’m sorry,” he groaned. What was he thinking? He didn’t want that Marina anyway! “I … just— Marina, I know what it’s like to make love with you when you’re—and—” He needed to stop talking before he argued himself right into her point. “But you weren’t in your right mind and I don’t wanna be—” He shut his mouth, took a deep breath and tried again. “Marina. I’mma say somethin’ that’s gonna hurt your feelin’s but you gotta know.”
She looked like a scared bunny, but she nodded slightly.
“I can have any woman I want any time I want without payin’ for it. Know why?”
“Because you’re handsome?” she said hesitantly.
“That, and I have a reputation as bein’ good at it. I ain’t never had a woman who thought I was a chore. At worst, I’m a good lay. At best, I’m a goddamned drug. I ain’t gonna have my wife—who I know is a bearcat in the sack—”
She whimpered again, but he didn’t care.
“—thinkin’ o’ me as a goddamned chore. It busts my image up, y’see?”
“Yes,” she said carefully. “You aren’t saying anything different from what Sister Albright said. You’re just using different words.”
“Oh, God,” Trey groaned. He’d just made it worse. “No, no, no. Women wanna fuck me for how I make ’em feel, the way I made you feel.”
“Maybe wives aren’t the only ones who think it’s a chore.”
“Huh?”
“Sister Albright said there’s a thing that happens to your body when your husband is being considerate. I forgot the word—”
“Orgasm.” Her lip curled in distaste. “You had plenty o’ those ’cuzza the sweet tea.”
She flushed, then cleared her throat. “Um. She, um, said some women pretend to have that so the man will get off of her when he’s done and go away, but it won’t hurt their pride. She said some women are so good at pretending, the men think they’re good at—that—”
Trey gaped at her.
“If … I mean, could that have happened with some of the women who were … indecent … with you?”
“No!” he barked. “If I pay for sex, it’s ’cuz I need to let off steam and too lazy to do it myself. She’s doin’ her job an’ I don’t give a shit if she comes or not. Has an orgasm, I mean. Anybody else, I wanna fuck ’em and they wanna fuck me.”
“Not just because you’re important?”
“Women want the same thing men do,” he snapped, “an’ don’t let anybody ever tell you different.”
“All women?” she asked softly. “Or just loose ones?”
“Loose ones!” he yelled before he thought.
The last of Marina’s sweetness and light slipped out of her soft brown eyes and told him everything he needed to know about how badly he’d just fucked up. She didn’t cry. Didn’t so much as flush.
“Marina,” he croaked.
She gave him a dutiful smile devoid of any emotion. “You’ve given me everything Mother could’ve dreamed for and more,” she continued matter-of-factly, “and I appreciate it. I’ll do my best to earn it.”
“You don’t have to earn it!”
“I was brought up to be a good caretaker. Since I won’t be doing that for Mother, I will do whatever else you need me to do too, because that’s what I was taught. I don’t know if I’ll want more children or not, but when this baby comes, I will do my best to be a better mother than either of mine. I don’t want to give you any reason to regret marrying me.”
He stared into her completely blank face and saw the rest of his miserable little life turn into hell.
42-43
If you don’t want to wait 2 years to get to the end, you can buy it here.
When do we get to the bits with bondage?
Sorry, but this book’s sex is very tame, albeit not fade-to-black. It just didn’t suit Marina’s character to get all down’n’dirty.
Awww.
*kicks pebble*
Write your own dirty sex scenes.
Maybe your heroine has a fetish involving steaks and Corning Ware.
You forgot the guns and coffee.
I’m a director, not a writer.
the Aunt Jemima Treatment is lame (as is the entire movie) but obligatory
The erotic asphyxiation happens in the pirate book.
The one I’m “not allowed” to read.
ORLY. 😂
Sounds like an expanded universe article.
🙂
I gotta get caught up. The last bit I read before my FreedomFest trip was one of the bra size chapters.
Earlier today I caught up on Animal’s work. That story took a turn.
Diving in to catch up on Mojeaux’s work.
bra size
Vegas has brafulls of talent, but I’m a leg guy
was so busy I never even tried to catch up to OBE
redeyes suck, but there’s no better feeling that leaving that hellhole
Last I saw, his flight and, presumably, his house (or at least neighborhood)-hunting trip for this weekend were canceled. 😞
“I wish you’d remember when you said, ‘Oh, God, Trey, harder’!”
LOL!
I assume they didn’t use the term “turgid manhood” back in 1929.
I did a lot of digging and found out a whole bunch of colorful ways of saying, but for simplicity’s sake, I went with “dick.”
She gave him a dutiful smile devoid of any emotion. “You’ve given me everything Mother could’ve dreamed for and more,” she continued matter-of-factly, “and I appreciate it. I’ll do my best to earn it.”
Oh no.
He stared into her completely blank face and saw the rest of his miserable little life turn into hell.
“Married… with Children” style marriage?
Pffftt. Marina’s no Peggy Bundy.
NO SPOILERS!
I can feel the love
Watched Good Omens 2.
Gaiman has turned into a total twat. I hope Pratchett is haunting his lousy ass.
Awww. I had been looking forward to that. 😒
Tennant and Sheen are great.
The story sucks and the constant sops to woke and LGBTQWERTY++ are ridiculous. Gaiman seems to have made it a point to try to be offputting to conservatives and in doing so, has forgotten how to write a story.
I do so enjoy those two actors. I may still give it a go.
That entire genre has gone that direction. I mean, they always were over there in that direction… but you can tweak a political or religious point of view and do it well and still have something worth watching. Unfortunately, it is like candy. it is easy calories, and all that sugar rots your teeth. So the writers get fat and lazy and the teeth rot.
To be fair, he was always a twat.
He wrote some good stuff, though.
I loved the book and was sorely tempted when I heard about the series (also because Tennant! 🥰) but it wasn’t quite enough to get me to pull the trigger on Prime since I rarely order from Amazon.
For whatever reason, I’ve finished more Gaiman books than Pratchett books, maybe because some of the Gaiman books were actually juveniles. American Gods, as I recall, kinda confused me and left me cold.
A severely overrated one.
I liked the TV show Good Omens, but the book American Gods made me scratch my head. Like, “Why’s everybody squeeing over this book?”
I hated that book. That’s really all I know of him and I was not inspired to investigate any further.
Good Omens remains a favorite. Graveyard Book was solid. American Gods was depressing.
Oh, Trey. *SMDH*
Thanks Moj. Somehow nothing like that ever happened to me.
I do forget a lot though. Good story. It is a story, right?
LOL Yes, it’s just a story. I just create the characters, then give them a circumstance, then let them to it and see what they do and take notes.
You mean the voices in your head, right?
They told me to tell you I don’t have voices in my head.
That exactly what the voices not in your head would be expected to say.
From the ded thread:
kinnath on July 28, 2023 at 3:43 pm
It’s now 100.9 degrees at 82 degree dew point. That’s the highest temp I’ve recorded on my weather station in the last 3+ years since I installed it. I recorded 99.3 in June of 22. So, this is extreme territory for eastern Iowa.
Uhh….I was on the roof of one of your gypsum plants (some) (most maybe) all day.
It was retarded hot. We cut out early cause I wasnt gonna have my guys broil. Jobs like this can send them looking on Indeed or LinkedIn.
Makes an extra day tomorrow, but we got out of that mess.
Stay hydrated, homey!
With water.
Too late….3rd beer
But its about 96% water by volume after all.
Had a cool front roll through about that same time, went from 87 to 75 with a cool north breeze. Looks like we’re going to be more comfortable now. Hope you guys get a break too.
My guys bill out well over $100 an hour, of course, but it ain’t enough sometimes. We prefer new installations, but we will do maintenance work around some process materials when work is slow. One client wants us to put new bags in his fiberglass filters, so I go out and ask them what kind of bonus the need to do it. I was more than willing to forward their requirements and expected it to be around $5,000 per man per day, but the answer was simply “fuck you dude” and they went back to whatever they were doing.
Ugh I’m dozing off in front of the ‘puter. It must be Friday evening and hot as balls in here. AC is struggling harder than it did this afternoon it feels like after several drinks…
Hm a shower seemed like a good idea until I stepped out of it and immediately started sweating.
At least I’m not falling asleep.
The trick to a summer shower is to take a hot one.
The summers I was DIYing all day in the heat, I’d take a hot shower and then the struggling AC felt cooler.
Hm, that’s a though. I took my usual shower, hottish, not too hot.
I’ll do better next time. 🙂
In a hotel shower fighting with some unintuitive shower valve and it’s uselessly-located red and blue dots or coronas or whatever, it comes to me: there ought be a purple dot on the decorative flange behind the valve halfway between guys’ hottish, not too hot setting and chicks’ how-do-you-not-boil setting so you just spin the valve to that place, wait a moment, and then tweak up or down.
My shower is so ridiculous. It’s been a month since the super unplugged the drain so within a couple of minutes I’m ankle deep in filth-water again; then the hot and cold water knobs are completely useless at their jobs. I have to spin the hot water knob all the way on and then ever so carefully play with the cold knob – brush it a nanometer in the wrong direction and it’s either freezing or boiling.
I can’t imagine why you are moving.
Had that knob in Germany. Or maybe it was Japan. Turn the handle to the stop. Press the override button and turn it more for boiling water.
Sure am hoping Hype shows up tonight to tell me why Blazing Saddles isn’t being remade even thought it would make piles of money. I really wanted to hear his rationale.
Oh you sweet summer child.
Gee I don’t know, probably because you people let the progs out punch their weight. If someone made a funny, solid film about race relations with all the raunchy tongue in cheek insults, it would sell and do well, you people act like the good old boys didn’t just castrate the king of beers because they gave some tranny a gig and insulted fratdudebros, as if a shitty pop country song isn’t #1 in the charts because some leftist freaked out about it, and as if, as is often pointed out here, ‘Woke’ movies flop and are routinely outperformed by Christian/conservative/un-woke movies that cost pennies on the dollar to make. So yeah, a solid funny movie that takes aim at racism could be made today and would probably do well, “You can’t make that today” is right up there with “kids these days” and “Gee it was better back in (almost always the time the person saying this was 10-14 years old)” when it comes to mindless pablum that every generation spouts out.
“you people”
Who you callin’ you people?
j/k
I tend to agree with you that the kulturkampf stuff is tiresome and mostly BS; what concerns me a lot more is the two-tiered justice system. It’s probably always been that way, but I don’t ever remember it being quite as blatant as it is now.
Brah…ease up on the pickles
What pickles? The MFers have been out of stock all summer, I’m eating some shit called Grillo’s for Christsake, way way too much dill, it’s like they’ve never even heard of garlic at the Grillo Pickle Making Place. I even tried to go sans pickle but a sammich ain’t a sammich without a pickle, sub par as said pickles may well be.
I noticed a marked decline in hamburger dill pickle quality from my favorite brand. Like slices with holes in the middle, discolored areas, and some that were just completely mangled.
Supply chain issues, probably.
Aw, I like those. I see garlic slivers in mine.
Gee, I agree. You don’t know.
Saying a movie wherein a bunch of white hicks call black people niggers over and over would do well if it were made is still not the same as saying you could make it today. Because you would still need funding to pay for actors, writers, costumes, sets, cameras, special effects, marketing, a way to distribute it. Just let the shrieking mob find out and watch them steer the financial industry against you, or recruit prog politicians to throw regulatory roadblocks in your way, or find ways and reason to tie your project up in court for years.
And yet somehow they still make hillbilly music and hillbilly films and hillbilly tv shows, did you miss the whole part about how hillbilly shit sells right now, particularly if the progs bitch and moan about it? It’s almost as if proggies aren’t the only ones that finance movies and shit.
Name one mainstream movie like that made in the last ten years. And not your meaningless “hillbilly movie “, but what Gumbeltarian just described.
In other words, tell us why Mel Brooks is wrong that Blazing Saddles couldn’t be made today. And actually explain it without resorting to ad hominins, and hyperbole, and strawmen.
You’re right I can’t name such a movie partly because I’ve seen maybe three of the hundreds or thousands of movies made in the last 10 years but mostly because that means nothing, how many mainstream movies like Blazing Saddles were made in the tens years prior to it being made? I pretty sure that ‘it hasn’t happened before so it can’t happen now’ is some kinda fallacy.
And I have told you repeatedly why Mr. Brooks is wrong, but since you asked – He and many of you give the progs and the ‘Hecklers veto’ too much credence, I have given examples where the libs are outraged and yet the movie/song/movement gains from the proggie tears.
And lastly to address Grumble’s and other’s constraining what if’s – Of course no left wing studio executive would greenlight it, and yes no big name liberal actor would star in it, but take it to a Mike Judge, Trey parker and Matt Stone or Seth Macfarlene*, someone that is willing to take chances on edgy and possibly even ‘right-wing’ material and you get a different result.
*I get the sense that he’s a lib but he seems to be an equal opportunity outrager so I think he’d be willing.
And lastly lastly If you (or Grumble) think Blazing Saddles is just hicks calling black people ‘nigger’ then you missed the point.
Hillbilly: “Mr. Leftist Studio Exec, I want to remake Blazing Saddles, n-words and all!”
LSE: “AYFKM? GTFO.”
Hillbilly: “BUT COUNTRY MUSIC IS POPULAR!”
TPTB: just submitted an “article” and it needs some help. I had no luck laying it out for laptop, and I’m sure it looks like shit on a smart phone. Drag and shape the images as you see fit.
Friday Funbags after dark.
https://tinyurl.com/yk9wjf3a
NSFW.
https://tinyurl.com/bdctwpss
NSFW.
https://tinyurl.com/2d5a28yn
NSFW.
https://archive.is/Q1YJ6/b0161ce2e6904e5ff2d252e5c73a64abe34ced12.jpg
NSFW.
She looks fun.
Family moment:
So the kids have been desperate to fight since dinner time. The 16 year old had his girlfriend over, and he just had to show off for her by putting his sister down. The 13 year old really likes the girlfriend, so she was showing off for her by making off-color jokes. “Look, I’m a big kid too!”. Ugh… Little one mostly stayed clear until later … After the girlfriend left they all took turns poking each other, seeing if they could start something that would end with the other one getting in trouble.
No, that isn’t the family moment. But it is real.
Nah.. the family moment came at 10:50. Kids had settled into their separate corners, mom didn’t have to kill any of them… and the Falcon Heavy was about to launch. I told everyone I was headed out to the bridge to watch the launch, and everyone came running. Crocs were donned, shirts and binoculars grabbed….. and out we went, a happy and united family!
Into an instant deluge. Three crew cab pickups were parked in front of the house, and people were sprinting back to the trucks to get out of the storm. Dang.
So I streamed it on the TV while the kids went back to their friends on their video games. Oh well.
At least it was a cool broadcast. 212 consecutive successful landings of F9 boosters… that is more consecutive landings than any orbital launcher has launches. (other than the F9) That is pretty impressive.
Next big family event… the router shuts them off at midnight. Mom already crashed, so let’s hope that WWIII doesn’t erupt because they are bored.
Tell them to get over their differences by reminding them they all hated Barbie.
Teenagers are impervious. They have learned enough to know any and all psychological tricks, including “ooh, look! Shiny!” diversions and threats of violence.
Somehow, despite having this high level of insight into human behavior, they still completely lack the ability to understand when they would do well to shut the hell up. Unfortunately for them, mama bear has zero tolerance for a mouthy kid.
“I told you what was going to happen” seems to come out of my mouth rather frequently since they became teenagers, along with the variants “what did you think was going to happen?”, “you knew what would happen” and “what did you think you were accomplishing?” Sometimes I augment with “Dang, that was extra-stupid!” or “How’d that approach work out for you?”
LOL I can’t believe some of the grief I gave my mom, and I was a “good” kid.
“they still completely lack the ability to understand when they would do well to shut the hell up.”
Some of us never gain that ability.
Ron White had a great bit about that:
… now, I had the right to remain silent….. but I did not have the ability….
Of course when I have a Friday off everyone drops off the Glibzoom early and I’m just left here looking at myself. Anyone? Anyone? Bueller…?
I’m there now.
Tooo late. Even I get bored.
My 50th birthday is coming up in November. I’m not particularly looking forward to it, don’t want to have a party or do much of anything. Today I found out my parents will be flying in to celebrate that week.
Yay.
Heh, nice. I lost my mom and stepfather before my 40th. Not bitching, just melancholily observing.
My condolences.
I avoided all that by arranging a pandemic
(in truth: “trip to Napa” became “take-out Cuban food in the neighbor’s backyard”. Which was still pretty great. Still wanna go to Napa, though).
I bow to your awesome power.
I had a biggish party for my 50th. Sucked that mom died 14 months prior, but the family, friends, and neighbors made for a fun night.
I tried to have a big party for my 40th, but most people felt they had more important things to do. If I make it to 50 I’m guessing it’ll just be me and a rope.
How about if I bring the rope?
Soap on a rope? Kinky.
Kinky
We’re dong Country now? You’re such a Gub Gub.
I got bitches in the living room gettin’ it on
I had that off Limewire but never knew where it came from.
If I did I would have played it when I was country music DJ
They also have a fun sing-along.
Just because the turnout was poor does not mean you aren’t adored.
Oh…you think the rope was for…oh no…not that...I gots kinks even if I taint have had the sects.
wow. You really laid it out there.
I always lob softballs, it’s not my fault if you don’t listen.
I gotta hit the sack. ‘Night, buddy.
Work is going to be a disaster on Monday. We had the opportunity for some OT this weekend, but at login discovered that since close of business yesterday they decided to institute the new two-factor ID system they’ve been talking about. My supervisor is the only one able to log on.
Another weekend working- this time in Iowa.
Hopefully Ill be home tomorrow…
suh’ fam
whats goody yo
Good morning, homey & Ted’S.!
Just had a thunderstorm roll through – a bit noisy, but didn’t last too long. Had a bit of a power blip but not a full-blown outage. I woke up and wondered, “Why is my electric blanket controller glowing? I sure as hell didn’t turn it on!” Turned out it was just freaking out over the blip.
Wow… you just gave me all sorts of flashbacks.
I have been in South Florida for a long time, so I had forgotten the joy of an electric blanket. That little glowing orange light is the symbol of great comfort.
When I was a kid, I had the upstairs bedroom in an A-frame. Dad kept the heat low during the day – and even lower at night. So it would get cold up there in the winter. I solved this by filling 2-liter bottles with hot water and shoving them around my legs. Cozy.
But then I got an electric blanket! Oh, the joy! I’d ramp that thing all the way up to broil and sweat to death, with my head sticking out in the chill night air. Being a teenager, the concept of not turning it on full blast took some time to adapt to.
Having warm feet at night just seemed like the ultimate luxury. Like, something only the rich would have.
Wow, that has been a long time ago. Later in life I got a wife that kept me warm…. and now I am in Florida with a wife who says “you are like an oven!”, so keeping warm at night is a distant memory.
Glad to evoke a pleasant memory! An electric blanket is a new experience for me, and I only use it minimally even in winter, as I prefer to sleep cool. I’m the one who sticks one foot out from under the covers to cool off or tosses the covers off completely. (MAYBE I’ll leave the sheet over me.)
It occurs to me – in the past I used to get uncomfortably cold feet at night and need to wear socks, regardless of the atmospheric conditions in the room. Even without using the electric blanket though, I haven’t had that trouble for quite some time now. Don’t know what changed, but I’ll take it!
For the nerds:
I have an old HP Stream windows-based netbook. It has a 32 gig SD hard drive. So windows no longer fits and windows update doesn’t run, even if you wipe and try a new install. Plus, it was always kinda sucky. It is exactly what it was meant to be – cheap and limited.
The kids have Chromebooks. All of their school stuff is web-based these days. The school uses MS Office online, so a netbook is perfect. Therefore, I decided to try ChromeOS Flex.
It had some install problems, so I tried it out on a thumb drive. It was Ok, but kinda Meh.
So I decided to try Linux Mint.
It is kinda fantastic (grading on the curve of “this is an extremely limited piece of hardware”). All of my web apps run great. YouTube is a tad slow pulling up, and AdBlock is a real benefit (holy crap, do websites run a lot of advertising garbage these days). But for web, email and such it is just fine. Chrome and Firefox run really well. Open Office can do most everything and it surprisingly fits.
But as a linux admin or network tool? This thing is fantastic. If you are an old-school terminal based administrator, everything works great. You have any shell you could want. It all runs super-fast. Nmap tools like Zenmap work great. Wireshark ran great. Even Visual Studio and Slack work fine.
This thing was an underpowered piece of junk that cost less than $200 when it was brand new. As a “break in case of emergency” stack of backup computers that you could use for disaster recover? It is pretty good. I haven’t tried using it to run remote desktop sessions yet, but I am sure that would work perfectly. A quick Ebay search shows these things going for less than $50. sometimes quite a bit less.
If I was still doing that kind of work, I might buy a couple to stash at the inlaw’s place, mom’s house, the cabin, the trunk of the car…. for $18 (one nicer than the one I am typing on now was listed for $18 on ebay), it would be worth it to never be caught out without a full kit.
They aren’t very sturdy – so little kids would destroy it. But still… $30 bucks for a 14 inch screen that they can use to watch stuff off of your Plex server? Might be worth it if the budget is too tight for a $250 rugged tablet.
All-in-all… .linux mint on the outdated laptop is a win.
Mornin’. Linux is great for repurposing old hardware which will can’t run modern Windows versions. I recently donated some old laptops and desktops with fresh linux installs to the local veterans group. I’m due for a new rig and will wipe/reinstall/donate the oldest one when I build the new one. Beats “recycling” old hardware at the local dump.
Mornin! 😃
https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=B9dSYgd5Elk
🎶🎶
Good morning, Sean! 😁
*waves*
Top o’ the mornin’, GT, Sean. I feel a little crazy this morning.
https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=IRDvkcJcIw8
🕺🏼💃🏼