Monday, June 7, 2010

Now THAT Is (Tragically) Funny!

Just where, exactly, does one start to describe the hopelessly foolish actions of T, L & C ??

In the BDGs' suddenly frantic effort to pour money into their house (as opposed to removing the catering business vehicles, structures and equipment in the yard behind the house), they have now strapped on crowbars, hammers, nail guns and paint brushes, and plowed full-throttle into the demolition and reconstruction business. Felix helps, too.

The only trouble is... they did not get permits to (1) expand or (2) re-roof their little house BEFORE they started. (The only reason they have a (3) vinyl siding permit is because they purchased it "installed" and Sears pulled the permit for them.) When the inspector visited them and halted the porch reconstruction project, they immediately pulled the re-roof permit and hammered away ever since.

All that is the tragic (ROTFLMAO*) comedy.

The really funny part is when the inspector told them to turn the radio down because he couldn't hear what they were saying. The context is even funnier because he doesn't realize that any of the three can out-screech freight train brakes when yelping at their dogs or at each other across their yard (or, maybe he does by now.)

Speaking of the radio...

On Saturday, the BDGs turned off their noise pollution when they left for a couple hours. It was a real treat to become reacquainted with natural sounds instead of their filthy, finger-flying trash noise.

And on Sunday, it got even better. At 8:27 a.m., nearing the end of their two hours of banging, bashing, bawling, crunching, yelping and kiss-kiss** preparations for departure, Corky exclaimed in her OMG! voice, "Is it 8 o'clock?" and a little lower, "What about the radio?" Theresa acted as the repeater, again hollering the question , "What about the radio?" to Generalissimo Lynda out front. The order from HQ must have been negative because the radio NEVER came on - the whole day! - when they left or after they returned. No noise, no neighbors; such a day is a treasure.

But the radio was on again early this morning, even though Felix & Co. is not banging around on the roof, even though his red van with silver striping is parked in the yard next door. (All the vehicles and crap on their property kinda reminds me of the [pre-cell phones] quest to see how many college students could be crammed into a phone booth.) Who knows, maybe Felix will show up with another truck pretty soon?!

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* Rolling On The Floor Laughing My Ass Off

** A Freudian insight into the women's relationships and why they keep so many dogs around. Kiss-kiss refers to their ritual, several times a day, of using their baby talk voices to order one dog or another, "C'mon little man, go pee-pee."

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