The Crown Molding Gang

And Now, another episode of "Conversations with Our House"...

Scene: I walk into the dining room getting ready to scrape and sand the woodwork.

ME: Hey Guys, hows it going?

CAVETTO: Sup Chump. Me & OGEE here were just talkin smack about your mom.

ME: Heh, heh. Yeah, ok. That's cool, whatever. I just wanted to know how things were. See if you wanted my help... I've got my 120 grit sandpaper here and this handy high carbon steel scraper...

OGEE: Look at this! Mother*&(%er wants to go!...

CAVETTO: Heh. Chump better recognize. Hear that, OVOLO?

ME: No, really, I don't want a fight, I just came in here to see how things were. Help you guys out, you know? I know you've been here for a while and I was just going to scrape off the old paint and put on a new coat. Seriously..., just trying to help.

OGEE: What? You saying we're not pretty enough for you?

ME: No, wait, that's not what I meant...

CAVETTO: Bitch, I'm gonna teach you how to respect...

ME: Hey, hang on a sec, can't we just chill?

OVOLO: I'm gonna kill you mother$%#^er...

ME: Hey! Ow! Ugh! Oh! No!
(Sounds of Punching, Scraping, Pistolwhipping, etc.)

(Silence)

CAVETTO: That's what happens when you mess with the Crown Molding gang, bitch. C'mon guys, lets go get a couple of 40s and eat leftover ziti and cannoli.

ME: Groan.

OVOLO: Grrr.

(Thunk. A Parting shot to the Kidneys.)



Postscript: Note the blood on the wall in the above pic. Eventually my cousin Tim came over and essentially picked me up off the floor. He took one look at the molding I'd been scraping and basically told me that for all my pain and bloody knuckles, I was being an overly perfectionist zealot. I'd been trying to scrape and sand the molding down to bare wood, just in order to get the best finish surface possible for repainting. He reminded me that NO ONE IS GOING TO NOTICE.

Now I know that I'm an idiot. And knowing is half the battle.

Bleep, Zingneek, Weil M. Furnace

And now, another episode of "Conversations with Our House"

Bleep zip cough, sniffle, wheeeeze.

What’s that Weil M. Furnace? Are you okay?

Neep! Zrong, sniffle, sniffle cough…

Oh, no! You’re sick, again?

Zip bing ding weel neep i keel short cycling.

Short cycling? But we knew about that! The home inspector told us about that and the previous homeowner said she’d get you checked out by a qualified technician. And you seemed fine.

Bleep zip cough, sniffle, wheeeeze… sniffle, glik.

I know, I know. You can hardly get moving before you shut down. I’m that way when I’m sick too. I get fired up for all of 30 seconds and then I have to sit out for three mintues before I can go again. I totally know how you feel. I’m so sorry.

Glip, glip, glip. Meke Leke Hi, Meke… cough cough, wheeeeze.

But I don’t understand, I have a receipt for work completed here from Edward Hughes and Son. I’ll call them right now.

Weel... sniffle.

Well, I talked to them and they’re *@#$ers. They won’t even honor the work they did two months ago. They wanted to charge me $75 bucks to just come out and see that they didn’t fix you. Don’t worry, we’ll never let Edward Hughes and Son HVAC contracting ever touch you again. And I’ll make sure to tell everyone I know so that no one else’s trusty furnace is subjected to the humiliation of dealing with them again.

Zik, neep, gillygilly, i wiln. Riminil wirk zuke eep, il Durham?

Yeah, I know it could be worse. Sure, I remember the house we looked at on Durham. What about it?

Nip, nip, Riminil ORBLOKZ?

Yeah, that frickin dude Orblokz was freaky scary, like something out of Ridley Scott’s “Alien”…

[Fade to FLASHBACK]

“I AM ORBLOKZ, DESTROYER OF WORLDS.

I AM SPEAKING TO YOU IN YOUR PUNY EARTH LANGUAGE THAT YOU MAY KNOW FEAR!

MWAH, AH, AH, AH.

I WILL EAT YOUR CHILDREN AND BURN AWAY YOUR SANITY WITH MY SCARY-ASS APPENDAGES.”

[Fade Back to PRESENT]

Neep wiel zing zing, Speaker of the House. Wheeze…

No, you’re the best. Yeah, I’m totally glad I have you Weil M. Furnace. We’ll get you fixed up in no time. I promise.

Zeep.

It's me, Your Shower...

And now a new segment... Conversations with Our House

Dear Speaker of the House.

I know we've only known eachother a short while, less than a week in fact, but I wanted to call something to your attention. When you moved in on Saturday, I was excited that I would be getting to spray you with hot water while you sang Al Green songs in the buff. I mean, really, who doesn't want a piece of that? I think we can safely say that we both waited for the next morning's sunrise with eager expectation. And I certainly wasn't dissapointed... even though your range is like three octaves lower than The Reverend, you brought the necessary funk. And while you are a skinny mother, I can see that at least you don't have back acne.

So, I was hurt, both emotionally and physically, when at the conclusion of our session, you twisted my knobs way too hard. Something inside me broke. And I've been weeping uncontrollably ever since.

I know that you were trying to avoid these kind of issues so soon after starting a new life here, but you brought in on yourself. This is your mistake to fix. Please, please go to homedepot this Saturday to buy me some new knobs. And while you're at it, I could use some silicone tape in places to. I don't want to be going down some Janet Jackson-esque path and expose my threads.

Sincerely,
Your Shower

Dear Shower,
Its not you, Its me. I've never been in a relationship like this one before. Please forgive me.
Sincerely,
The Speaker of the House