come on baby...light my fire...(monday dec 27)

TRENDING NOOOO!!!!TRENDING NOOOOO!!!!!

1.Teena Marie (dead)

2.Christina Hendricks (big boobs)

3.Hugh Jackman (retires)

4.Bristol Palin (pregnant again…)

5.Jane Fonda's Workout (can I do this while eating a cheeseburger?)

6.Avril Lavigne (sings some songs)

7.Fitness plans (suck)

8.James Franco (caught smoking weed)

9.Health insurance (is just a ripoff)

10.Biutiful (how do you spell that?)

Welcome new BIA

Semi True Torystellar  at Can U Relate...free-thinking witha  hot avatar!! check her out and drop her a line in the comments section....cuz all the cool kids are doing it...you do want to be cool and all that right? I knew you did...


thisisme is the latest winner of the Petey...congrats!

I was gonna do some award stuff, but face it kids, i am lame. and lazy. if i come up with an easy for cheesy post like this one i'm gonna be all over it like a pornstar...sometimes they just write themselves. look for award stuff on wednesday,,,cuz we all know wednesday night is a good night for bloglove...

i missed you all, so now im back for a few days and then back on vacation...

cuz that's how i roll.
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The weather outside is not fit for man nor beast. I am thankful I am not living on the street. I drive past these poor souls frequently and am thankful I am not one of them. *but for the grace...go I*

the following post is in real time...tic toc..tic toc...

The answer was coming home and hanging out with the TuckMonster, a few toddies, and a WINGS game. Yup. That was the idea. That WAS the answer. But I was in the  Alex Trebek alternative universe. AND I was stuck.

The question was what will Bruce do on the night before the night before Christmas...The question BECAME.... WTF is wrong with the furnace. I walked in the door and could feel the temperature was not quite right. Bummer dude.

It is 61 degrees F in the house. (On the main floor)

Thursday night, the night before the night before Christmas, is not the best of times to have a furnace go out, and I only find this stuff out the hard way. Life is a harsh task master. Actually, no time in the 9 month Michigan winter is a good time for the furnace to puke.

It needs to be fixed. I call my Landlord. I get voice mail. Prolly cuz she has my number in her phone and it is usually a problem for her to have to figure out when I call. I do not know. She prolly looks at it and…straight to voicemail…

There is also the California to Michigan time difference. No worries. I can never get this simple concept of time and where in the USA it changes or how many hours difference, quite right. So don’t even ask me to figure out what year it is, in, like, say Australia…

I then instruct my wife to take the chillin and go to her mom’s house where they would be safe, cuz it is too cold to stay here. I will make the supreme sacrifice and stay here with the TuckMonster. I toss my glasses from my face and rip open my shirt, revealing a large S for SuperBruce!!! .(L for LoserBruce) 

“Honey, save yourself and Mylibbean! I will handle this furnace debacle!”

Okay, I lied, they were going there anyway. The TuckMonster and I were OTR (And the WINGS were on!!!!)

Bo~nus! (Sing-song voice!))

But first, the little problem of the heat and furnace issue. I wander into the furnace room and contort myself like a yoga master to see if I can figure out WTF is wrong.  I IMMEDIATELY figure out the flame is not flaming. Cuz I am a genius like that.

Let me just say yoga is crazy, until you need it. If you don't practice it, a prescription to vicodin or several canadian whiskeys will help the after effects of said non-yogis. I am a non-yogi. I took both.

Meanwhile.

What to do?

My wife hits me upside the head with hands me the phone book. I turn to heating and cooling. The cooling part is fine. I am concerned with the heating.

I call ALLLLLLLL (at least the ones that have big splashy phone numbers) the “24 HOUR” HVAC companies. They all have answering services. Thankfully, the services all speak English and not Foreignish.

I wait.

And wait.

And f*ing wait some more.

Finally, some jackweasel calls me back.

And says “Well, until I hear from your landlord, I cannot fix your furnace.”

“Dude, I will pay you. I can work it out with her later. The WINGS are on tonight and I will be damned if I do not get to watch them from the comfort of my ManCave” I implore the guy on the phone.

“Sorry, no can do.” He doesn't even respond with an obligatory "dude"... the bastage!

It is now 59 degrees F. (On the main floor)

The ManCave is colder still...funny thing about cold air, it sinks. (or warm air rises, I REALLY shoulda paid a bit more attention to my HS physics class...)

He calls back and says they are not doing any new rental accounts. I am outta luck.

Fine. Whatever. His company will never get my business, now. Vredervoodg, or however you spell it. Your name is mud in my book...

The ladies leave, saving themselves, and TuckMonster and I start a fire to keep warm. WinterCamping! Relax, kids, we have a fireplace, so, no, I did not start a fire on the carpet. Or a fifty-five gallon drum...Actually, we have two fireplaces. One fireplace is in the ManCave and one is in the main floor living room.

In the USA, or the land of USIES, (more on that in a future post) we live in the lap of luxury. We Take for granted the things like heat and A/C. We expect it. Until it goes horribly wrong. We are all just this close to living on the street. Or at least living like we were on the street. Then we panic. And cry like little school bitches kids. I, however, am The Last Boy Scout. (Not the Bruce Willis Movie...)

We retire to the Mancave, the TuckMonster and I, with fire roaring and behaving perfectly inside the fire box, and turn on the game. (It is heating up quite nicely)

I called every 24 hour service place and got no other replies.

24 hour service my ass!

It is now 56 degrees F. (On the main floor)

Finally, I hear from my landlord. She has arranged for her Jack-of-all-trades to come over and fix it.

YAY!

He can’t be there till the next morning.

Booooo!

It is now 51 degrees F. (OTMF)

The wings lose.

It is now 49 degrees F. (OTMF)

We run out of wood. The fire goes out. I go upstairs. Upon crossing the threshold of the stairway, I have snotsicles forming on my nose. It is seriously cold. I search in vane for my fingerless gloves.

The TuckMonster jumps onto and I crawl into, the bed.

What a fine way to start out my holiday weekend. Good thing I started growing a beard like six months ago. For playoff hockey. Last season. I just never shaved it.

It is 44degrees F.(OTMF) My harmonica has frozen to my lips on a spitbubble.

I fit in well with the rest of the bums on the street.

Just Another Day In Parrdise!