Trick or Treat?

Not My Usual Happy Post-Halloween Post

Last night I went out to Crockett Street for Halloween with my sister Terry, her husband Dan and some other friends. We started out at Antones for a Jimmy Buffet tribute band and at about midnight one of the guys and I went out on the street to see what was going on out there. The streets were packed and we watched a little of the costume contest then decided to check out what was going on in the Black Cat. (Here is Wang Chi's version of the night's events.)

We stood in line at the Black Cat for about thirty minutes and got inside at around 12:30 a.m. (I'm guessing). We walked around the club and then found some comfortable chairs near the bar where it wasn't so loud and we could sit and talk. By this point we had quit drinking except for one Shiner Bock and a Smirnoff Ice which we sipped on until closing time which was three hours later due to the time change. For the record (and there might be a need for an official record later), we did each do a test-tube shot from a shot girl not long after we sat down. My point is that, by closing time, we were stone cold sober.

At about 2:15 a.m. the bouncers started herding everyone out down the fire escapes near where we were sitting. Two of the bouncers were doing this in a normal bouncerly kind of way. The other asshole (we shall call him Paul because someone told my friend that is his name) started yelling at people, "Get the fuck out! I'm serious! This is bullshit." There were at least a hundred people going quietly and orderly down the stairs and another hundred or so people still in the club waiting to make their exit. This included my friend and I.

My friend recently fell off his roof during the after hurricane cleanup and cracked a few ribs and vertebrae. There was no point in us standing up and getting in line to go nowhere until the crowds thinned out. At this point Paul the bouncer started yelling, "Get out of the chairs! NOW! Everybody out." I restate the fact that there was nowhere to go. My friend and I stood up at that point and I said to him, "There's nowhere to go until all of those people get out." I'm not sure but I think the bouncer might have heard me. At this point, the bouncer pushed over a chair right in front of us which had a guy sitting in it and started screaming at the guy, "I mean it. GET OUT!". That guy was doing absolutely nothing. He wasn't even looking at the bouncer.

As we watched the poor guy get up off the floor, my friend said to the bouncer, "You're an asshole." The bouncer turned around (he was several inches taller and at least 50 pounds heavier than my friend) and said, "What did you say?" My friend said, "You're an asshole." At this point the bouncer pushed him backward over a chair. He fell straight back and was sort of spread out across two chairs.

All I could think of was his cracked ribs and vertebrae from a few weeks ago and I couldn't move. Another guy who we don't know helped him up and other (friendly) people began pushing us toward the door. I don't know what happened in there after we left and today I wish so badly that I had said something to the bouncer or had found a manager or one of my friends who is a waitress there. I was so afraid that my friend had re-hurt himself that all I could do was walk zombie-like with him down the fire escape with everyone else.

There is no excuse for assaulting innocent people for absolutely no reason. Of all the people we hang out with, my friend and I are by far the most low-key, mild mannered two of the bunch. If this is how this guy acts toward two of the possibly oldest and definitely most sober people in the club, I would hate to see how he treats the difficult customers. A bouncer's job is to keep order, not create more chaos. His acts of violence could have been the catalyst for a barroom brawl which, thank God, didn't occur.

My friend does not want to sue the club although he could. He is considering filing criminal charges and, at the very least, getting that asshole fired which would be in the best interest of the club as well as the general public.

What do you think?

Note:
I'm still really shaken up by this today and I've called my friend several times this morning to see how he's feeling but I keep getting his voicemail. If I hear from him, I'll let you guys know how he's doing and what his decision is regarding the bouncer.

Note 2:
I just received an e-mail from my friend which said, "I'm fine." I'm taking his word for it.

Party Criteria

Last night I went to my sister's house for my 19 year-old nephew's belated birthday party (chicken and sausage gumbo!) which had been postponed due to Hurricane Rita. As usually happens, the children (age range 16 - 25) and grandparents (ages undetermined) went their separate ways around 9:00 p.m. and the middle generation had a party of our own.

We mostly swapped hurricane stories but, as always, the conversation turned to our upcoming trip to New Orleans in March. We half-heartedly threw around suggestions for alternate locations for the March trip because of possible problems since Hurricane Katrina. We spoke of New York City, Cancun, Las Vegas, Key West, Galveston, Austin and Houston and many others.

Each location had its attractive features and we would love to go to all or some of them as a group one day. However, the question that kept coming back up each time we spoke of a fun city to take our rowdy crowd was this: Can we drink in the street?

We're going to New Orleans.

I Hate Bugs...and Newts

I hate bugs. I never liked bugs but I don't remember actually obsessively hating them until a science teacher in the seventh grade required a bug collection from each student. We had a list of about twenty bugs (including cockroaches!) that we had to find, trap, suffocate in a jar and pin to a piece of Styrofoam along with their scientific name. It was an unimaginably gory assignment from which I have never fully recovered. If there is such a thing as karma, that teacher has to deal with nasty infestations of the insect variety on a regular basis.

I don't mind lizards so much as long and they stay outside. If they come in my house though, that's a chameleon of a different color. Shortly after I moved here, I realized I wasn't alone. The house came with its very own newt. The newt and I eventually had a rather nasty run-in involving nets and brooms and flashlights and bug spray (there's no such thing as newt spray...I looked). At one point, I whacked that sucker and he went one way and his tail went the other. I flushed the still wiggling tail down the toilet and eventually subdued the newt and whacked the shit out of him with the broom. I scooped his limp, and probably lifeless, body onto the dustpan and threw him over my patio fence. I'm pretty sure he was dead; but, I prefer to think I just stunned him. Denial works well for me.

When I see an interloping reptile or insect in my house, I freak out and have been known to use an entire can of bug spray on one bug. I actually drown them more than poison them. If the critter gets away from me, say behind a couch or under a dresser, I will obsess over that piece of furniture for days. I realize that the roach, spider, lizard, junebug, cricket, or whatever, is hell and gone from whatever he ran under or behind. However, in my mind, he's still there taunting me and waiting to make his move.

I hate bugs...and newts.

My apologies in advance...

I can't help but feel bad for the poor bastard who landed on this blog at 2:00 a.m. this morning searching for, well, you can tell by the picture below what he (or she?) was searching for. Just so they'll have something to look at next time, I am posting this picture.

Propane and Propane Accessories

When we evacuated for Hurricane Rita, there were nine humans and four dogs in a caravan of four vehicles. In my car, my traveling companions were Aunt Gladys, Aunt Hazel, Bandit and Prissy. Bandit and Prissy are dogs. Aunt Hazel and Aunt Gladys are humans of the aunt variety. At one point on our way back to Texas from Arkansas, after staying for a week with my brother’s family (five more humans and another dog), my Aunt Hazel, who was riding shotgun, suddenly said to no one in particular, “No one took baths. Everyone took showers.”

Aunt Gladys and I sat there for a while waiting for Aunt Hazel to elaborate on her cryptic revelation. When none was forthcoming, I looked over at Aunt Hazel and said, “And?”

She said, “I don’t know. I don’t even know why I thought of that, let alone said it out loud.”

Granted, we had been on the road for about six hours at that point and had another six hours or so of driving ahead of us. We were all delirious, not knowing the condition of our homes and all; but, it was still a strange thing to say. For the next hundred miles or so, every time it would get quiet, one of us would say, “No one took baths. Everyone took showers.” Then, we would laugh our asses off.

As an interesting side note, the whole time we were at my brother’s house, not only did no one take a bath, no one took a cold bath. I mean, no one took a cold shower. We were washing clothes and dishes constantly and with fourteen people in the house, someone was always bathing. Nevertheless, we always had hot water. My brother uses propane and propane accessories. I tell you what, Hank Hill would be proud.

I won’t even begin to speculate on the capacity of my brother’s septic tank. I still can’t believe we didn’t overflow that sucker with all the good Soccer Mom and Methodist Lady casseroles we were eating. There had to be some sort of divine intervention involved, like Jesus with the fishes or something. That must be it, a good old-fashioned Methodist/Catholic septic tank miracle. I wonder if Rome investigates holy septic tanks.

You know it's going to be a bad day when...

...you don’t realize until 7:55 a.m. that you’ve put on the watch with the dead battery that perpetually reads 7:25 a.m. and you have to be at work at 8:00 a.m.

Could I get an espresso to go with that bear claw?

I was in the right place, but it must have been the wrong time...

Don't ever let them see you sweat.

Four Words

Four words I hope we've heard the last of, at least until next summer...

catastrophic

devastation

hunker down

WILMA!!!!

As I’ve mentioned before, I don’t care for the reporting on Fox News because of its, to put it mildly, sensationalistic tendencies when reporting the news. However, since I’ve recently become obsessed with hurricanes (and rightfully so I might add), I would rather see and hear the worst of the news I can get: ergo, Fox News.

As I was listening to Fox News coverage of Hurricane Wilma while I was getting ready for work this morning, the reporter who was standing outside in the battering winds in Coral-Something or Something-Coral, Florida, was asked by the reporters who were safely back in the studio if he thought he would get the storm surge that was predicted for the exact place he was standing. The reporter had been warned that he should have a boat ready and waiting nearby.

The reporter said, “No, I don’t have a boat. There are only 2 – 3 inches of water in the street. I don’t see any evidence of a surge.” Does he not know the meaning of the word surge? Honey, you ain't gonna see the surge until you're standing waist deep in Gulf of Mexico salt water at the intersection of First and Main.

This is the same reporter who had been standing in the eye of the hurricane twenty minutes earlier saying that he thought the worst of the storm was over. This guy might know all about Iraq and Iran but he sure don’t know nothin’ 'bout no hurricanes.

My Halloween Costume This Year

This is my Halloween costume for this year. (That isn't me in the picture, by the way.) The big Halloween party at Antone's this year will have a tropical/hurricane theme so I thought this would fit right in. I sure hope it gets here before Saturday. I paid extra for Fed Ex.



I'll take pictures out at Crockett Street. I love going out on Halloween. The costumes are always amazing. I have a semi-deal with a friend of mine to dress like the alleged witch from Monty Python next year. He has official Monty Python garb and thinks the combination could win some money. Since I would want my witch to be perfect, I don't think I can do it in a week. So, next year, we shall kick ass. This year, I'm just going to drink Mai Tais in my tiki garb.

Mahalo and Ni!

Seven Things...

This was passed to me by Fay. Off we go...

Seven things I plan to do:
1. Take more time off from work
2. Travel more (NOT in an evacuation situation)
3. See a Broadway play in New York
4. Go to Key West (if IT doesn't get blown away, too...damn Wilma!)
5. Take a spa vacation in Arizona
6. Write a book (don't all bloggers want to do that?)
7. Pay off my Mastercard (after I write that book)
Note: Going back to Vegas and New Orleans are givens.

Seven things I can do:
1. Make a molehill out of a mountain
2. Drive long distances without getting cranky or falling asleep (IN an evacuation situation)
3. I'm a little psychic but have no control over it whatsoever
4. Write a little something in this blog (almost) every day
5. Read legal documents without getting bored
6. Math
7. Kick ass in Trivial Pursuit

Seven things I can't do:
1. Jump out of an airplane
2. Be mean
3. Watch home movies or movies and videogames with a lot of movement without taking a Dramamine
4. Sing
5. Stand on the edge of anything high
6. Eat peas
7. Drink beer

Seven things I say most often:
1. Hi! How are you?
2. Hmmmm....
3. I could be wrong about this, but...
4. Is that right?
5. Woo Hoo!
6. To the question, "Did I wake you?": "Yeah, but that's okay."
7. Goodbye, goodbye, goodbye.

Seven people I want to pass this tag to:1 - 7. Anyone who wants to do it. (Leave us a comment if you do.)

Sonic - What a Blessing

I went to Sonic this morning and after I tipped the rollerskating waitress $1 for skating out my breakfast burrito, large tots and cherry Dr. Pepper, she said, "Bless you." I didn't even sneeze or anything.

I love getting a blessing when I don't expect it. So, to everyone reading this blog:

Bless you!

We Needed the Funk

Last night was my first outing to Crockett Street since Hurricane Rita and who better to be playing than our favorite funky band out of Baton Rouge Jive Train. Tonight back out on Crockett Street, it's the Astros on a big screen television in the street, Vallejo at Antones and Wang Chi's favorite soon-to-be-famous local band 9 Station Drive at Star Bar.

Ah, I'm finally starting to feel normal.

The saxophone player read a limerick from the stage that someone wrote but I didn't catch who wrote it. I'm paraphrasing because I also don't exactly remember the limerick. If anyone knows who wrote the limerick, I will gladly give them credit.

There once was a bitch storm named Rita
Which couldn't have been any meaner
Now I'm back home
And all my shit's gone
And I keep getting fucked by FEMA.

Recent Keyword Search Activity

Here are two search phrases peopled used today and were directed to my blog:

• hemorrhoids cashews itch
• cafe du monde jen husband hotel drink

I can't imagine what drama provoked the Cafe Du Monde search or what they were trying to find, but you just have to feel bad for the hemorrhoid dude. Cashews? You gotta wonder.

Astros Weirdness

The Astros are going to the World Series which is fan-tab-u-lous. However, since I'm not much of a sports fan, and wouldn't want to give anyone the false impression that I am, this post will be about the stories regarding Rogers Clemens' conversation with his mom before she died.

As you've probably already heard, Roger Clemens pitched on the day his mom died (Houston Chronicle, ESPN, MSNBC). I couldn't find mention of it anywhere in these articles, but the next day, everyone was talking about how Roger Clemens' mom had accurately predicted the score of the game. The Astros won the game 10 - 2 which was the score his mom had allegedly predicted. It looked like the game was going to end at 10 - 1 when the Astros made an error in the bottom of the ninth inning making the score 10 - 2. As I said, I can't verify it through any of my online searches. However, I distinctly remember people talking about it at work the next day.

Although that was strange on its own, as you can see in the above linked articles, she also asked if the Astros had made the playoffs, yet, and more than once mentioned Shoeless Joe Jackson. As everyone knows, even me, Shoeless Joe Jackson played for the Chicago White Sox which is the team the Astros will be beating...um...playing in the World Series.

Must See Weird TV - The Schedule

I love television the last couple of weeks in October. There's all kinds of ghostly, creepy stuff playing. Dana left a comment on my Must See Weird TV post asking when all the shows play that I mentioned in the post. Ask and you shall receive. (All times are Central.)

Surface (Monday @ 7 on NBC)
Medium (Monday @ 9 on NBC)
Supernatural (Tuesday @ 8 on WB)
Dead Famous (Tuesday @ 9 on Biography)
Ghost Hunters (Wednesday @ 8 on Sci-Fi)
Lost (Wednesday @ 8 on ABC)
Invasion (Wednesday @ 9 on ABC)
Night Stalker (Thursday @ 8 on ABC)
Firefly (Friday @ 6 on Sci-Fi)
Ghost Whisperer (Friday @ 7 on CBS)
Threshold (Friday @ 8 on CBS)
Most Haunted (Friday @ 8 on Travel Channel)

Also check the History Channel and the Travel Channel for Haunted History, Weird Travels and Haunted Hotels. The Sci-Fi Channel also has reruns of the original Night Stalker and the Twilight Zone.

Something You've Never Seen Here Before

Here's something you've never seen on this blog, a recipe. Of course, Danno at New Orleans Cuisine will probably laugh at the simplicity of it but I made it today for our Boss' Day Luncheon and got rave reviews. I think it will make a perfect fall/holiday dessert and it's SO easy.

Apple Spice Cake

1 box of spice cake mix
1 21 oz. can of apple pie filling
1/3 cup apple butter
3 large eggs

Mix all ingredients and bake according to spice cake package directions. Frost with cream cheese frosting. (I used Duncan Hines Whipped and sprinkled some cinnamon and pecan chips on top.)

Must See Weird TV

This television season was created for weirdos like me. Every night of the week, I can watch something about aliens or ghosts or sea monsters. Not since I was a kid and could watch the Twilight Zone and Outer Limits or could choose between Night Gallery, Lost in Space or Star Trek has there been such a smorgasbord of oddness to choose from.

Along with reruns of Firefly on the Sci-Fi Channel (and all of that other cool stuff on Sci-Fi), I can watch Ghost Whisperer, Surface, Threshold, Invasion, Night Stalker, Supernatural, Most Haunted, Ghost Hunters and Dead Famous. The old DVR is getting quite a workout. Of course, none of them measure up to The X-Files, yet, but there's always hope. I think Invasion is the best of the ones I've seen but I haven't seen Surface which I hear is very good also. For some reason, I can't get interested in Lost no matter how much people tell me it's like Twin Peaks. I loved Twin Peaks.

I do like Most Haunted. This is a program from England in which this group of paranormal experts go to haunted pubs and castles and such and try to have paranormal experiences. There is this chick on there who walks around provoking spirits ("Show yourself!" "You're a coward!") and then when something weird happens, she runs away screaming like a banshee. Now, that's good television.

Edited to add: My cousin Zina reminded me of Medium in a comment to this post. I can't believe I forgot it. It's a great show and Patricia Arquette is wonderful in it as is the entire cast, actually.

Could You Repeat that, Secretary Rumsfeld?

From my desk calendar at work:

There are known knowns. There are things we know that we know. There are known unknowns. That is to say, there are things that we know we don't know. But there are also unknown unknowns. There are things we don't know that we don't know.

Defense Secretary Donald Rumsfeld, trying to clarify the war on terrorism, during a Pentagon briefing.

For that someone special at Halloween...

This site will tell you all about the adorable(?!) Krypt Kiddies doll collection. Happy Halloween everyone. Oh, and sweet dreams.

Those Crazy Spam Protection "Words"

I just left a comment on my friend/co-worker Jen T's blog and my spam protection word was, I kid you not, YJUFK.

Itchy Trigger Finger

Some of us were discussing guns at work the other day. One of the girls told a story about being eight months pregnant and almost accidentally shooting her husband late one night when he unexpectedly came home early from working the late shift at one of the refineries. (This incident is not to be confused with the times she almost intentionally shot him.)

The night she almost accidentally shot him, she heard something or someone making noise in her house at about two in the morning and knew her husband wasn't supposed to be home until six o'clock the next morning at the earliest. She got out of bed and grabbed the shotgun. Since she was very pregnant and didn't want to hurt herself or the baby, she propped the stock of the shotgun against the wall behind her and, as the intruder approached her bedroom door, she cocked that bad boy.

I don't know if you have ever actually heard a shotgun being cocked but the sound alone is enough to send a grown man running for his life. Imagine that you are the husband of a hormonal, frightened, extremely pregnant woman reaching for the doorknob of your bedroom, in the dark, at two in the morning and hearing that sound.

She said, all she could hear was her husband shouting from the other side of the door, "DON'T SHOT, DON'T SHOOT! FOR GOD'S SAKE DON'T SHOOT! IT'S ME! IT'S ME!" Luckily, she didn't shoot and all ended well and as an extra special bonus, to this day, he always calls when he is on his way home.

My friend says the scariest part of the whole incident was how hard it was for her to not pull the trigger. She was scared to death, her adrenaline was pumping and every muscle in her body was telling her to shoot. Even after hearing her husband's voice, it was difficult to take her finger off the trigger.



This made me think about what would happen to me in a similar situation. Would I be able to not shoot someone if the gun was cocked and my finger was already on the trigger? Hell, when I'm searching for something on the computer either at home or at work, this is the usual scenario: ...next...next...next...next...next...damn, that was it...back, back, back.

Think about it, my mouse finger is the same finger that would be so precariously poised on the trigger of that gun. Would I be able to stop? There's no 'back' button on the trigger of a 40-gauge shotgun, you know.

Hurricane Survival Kit

Mustard.............................................check
Cheetos.............................................check
Toilet Paper........................................check
Bud Light...........................................check
Keystone Ice........................................check
Budweiser...........................................check
Red Dog.............................................check
Misc. other cans and bottles of alcohol......................check
Sheet of plywood or door to float your chick (and booze) on...check

Famous Quotes

Received by e-mail yesterday (credit goes to EEB):

What the American people have seen is this incredible disparity in which those people who had cars and money got out, and those people who were impoverished drowned.
-- Ted Kennedy on Hurricane Katrina

Ditto.
-- Mary Jo Kopechne

Today's Horoscope

Sort of like my weird fortune cookie of a few weeks ago, my horoscope for today is oddly specific. I'll let you know if anything like this happens today.

Someone arrives in your life unexpectedly with an emotional outburst that doesn't fit into your idea of a perfect day. You, however, can be big enough to incorporate this experience, but you will need to make a conscious decision to be optimistic rather than fearful. A great adventure awaits you if you can only accept that you cannot control all facets of your life.

Food for Thought: After the Storm

The above picture is off of a site that has some great video of Hurricane Rita hitting Beaumont.

Also, I don't know how many Beaumont area people read this blog but I have some things I've been thinking about and want to share.

• A lot of coverage has been given to the fine work done by the emergency workers and people who are restoring electricity to the area but everyone also needs to remember the guys who have been working restoring telephone and cable service as well as those clearing the streets of debris and garbage.
• The trees aren't finished falling. I haven't heard anyone on the local news channels mention this. If we get a good stiff breeze with a cold front, shit is going to start falling from the trees that are still standing and I'm not talking about acorns and bird crap. I'm talking about huge ass limbs that are broken high up in the trees and haven't yet made it to the ground. Heads up everyone.
• I just heard on the evening news that the burn ban has been lifted in Hardin County for this weekend so people can get rid of some of the debris in their yards. The burn ban has been implemented because it is dangerously dry from, if you can believe it, a lack of rain. Keep in mind that all of the trees that were downed during the hurricane three weeks ago are now pretty much kindling. Does anyone else see disaster written all over this lifting of the burn ban?
• Premonitions? A month or so before the hurricane, I told my family that if we were to get hit by a hurricane or an ice storm, we would be in big trouble because of the trees that were growing all around the high wires. We still have areas of the city weeks away from having power restored because of fallen trees. The week before the hurricane hit, I suddenly and inexplicably got tired of the Dilbert paraphernalia I had all over my office which I had been collecting for about ten years and brought it all home. This made it a lot easier to pack up my office in preparation for the storm which hit a week later. I sure hope I'm not having another premonition here with regard to the lifting of the burn ban.

Who's Behind You?

George Bush: Bubble Boy

You might remember the lady falling among the bubbles that I posted a while back. Well, this version is sure to amuse my friends over at Falafel Sex. It's George Bush frolicking among the bubbles. Use your mouse to make George do your bidding.

You Know You Live on the Gulf Coast When...

(I got these by e-mail today.)

• You have FEMA's number on your speed dialer.
• You have more than 300 C and D batteries in your kitchen drawer.
• Your pantry contains more than 20 cans of Spaghetti Os.
• You are thinking of repainting your house to match the plywood covering your windows.
• When describing your house to a prospective buyer, you say it has three bedrooms, two baths and one safe hallway.
• Your SSN isn't a secret, it's written in Sharpie on your arms.
• You are on a first-name basis with the cashier at Home Depot.
• You are delighted to pay $3 for a gallon of regular unleaded.
• The road leading to your house has been declared a No-Wake Zone.
• You decide that your patio furniture looks better on the bottom of the pool.
• You own more than three large coolers.
• You can wish that other people get hit by a hurricane and not feel the least bit guilty about it.
• You rationalize helping a friend board up by thinking "It'll only take gallon of gas to get there and back".
• You have 2-liter coke bottles and milk jugs filled with water in your freezer.
• Three months ago you couldn't hang a shower curtain; today you can assemble a portable generator by candlelight.
• You catch a 13-pound redfish. In your driveway.
• You can recite from memory whole portions of your homeowner's insurance policy.
• You consider a "vacation" to stunning Tupelo, Mississippi.
• At cocktail parties, women are attracted to the guy with the biggest chainsaw.
• You have had tuna fish more than 5 days in a row.
• There is a roll of tar paper in your garage.
• You can rattle off the names of three or more meteorologists who work at the Weather channel.
• Someone comes to your door to tell you they found your roof.
• Ice is a valid topic of conversation.
• Your "drive-thru" meal consists of MREs and bottled water.
• Relocating to South Dakota does not seem like such a crazy idea.
• You've been laughed at over the phone by a roofer, fence builder or a tree worker.
• A battery powered TV is considered a home entertainment center.
• You don't worry about relatives wanting to visit during the summer.
• Having a tree in your living room does not necessarily mean it's Christmas.
• Toilet paper is elevated to coin of the realm at the shelters.
• You know the difference between the "good side" of a storm and the "bad side."
• Your kids start school in August and finish in July.
• You go to work early and stay late just to enjoy the air conditioning.
  

Poor Bastard

While I was on my seven hour journey to nowhere the first time we tried to evacuate (I was beginning to wonder if I was going to need a passport if I ever finally got to Saratoga), I was listening to the local television station on my car radio.

One of the guys who was interviewed was a doctor or physician's assistant or something in one of the rural clinics here in our neck of the woods. Most of his staff had already evacuated and the reporter was asking him some pretty tough questions. I could tell the guy was distracted and would rather be doing anything other than a television interview.

I don't know if it was his distraction or worry about his impending doom (he wasn't evacuating) but the Poor Bastard said a couple of things that made me laugh out loud as I sat in bumper to bumper traffic on my journey to hell.

Reporter: Will the clinic remain open through the storm or will it close if necessary?
Poor Bastard: That will be up to the discrepancy of the doctors in the clinic.
(Me: I'm pretty sure he meant to say discretion of the doctors in the clinic but I hope the discrepancy was cleared up and that Poor Bastard got the hell out of there.)

Reporter: Will you have a full staff for the duration of the storm?
Poor Bastard: No, we will have a skeletal crew.
(Me: I know I have a sick sense of humor but the morbidness of that one, in my pre-hysterical state at the time, really hit me funny. Once again, I sure hope the Poor Bastard and his skeleton crew made it through the storm and good for them for holding down the fort.)

Wang Chi's Hurricane Adventures

Check out Wang Chi's blog for an interesting chronicle of his adventures during the hurricane. You will be amazed at the picture of a tree on his house. You will gasp at pictures of trees that fell willy nilly about his yard. You will be astounded by his account of falling twenty feet to the ground and living to tell the tale. Spiderman he ain't.

Calm Before the Storm

Shortly before we evacuated for hurricane Rita, we (me, mom, Bonnie, two aunts, two cousins, Cory, Jamie, four dogs and a partridge in a pear tree) were all sitting around my mother's living room trying to decide what to do and who all was going to do it. The decision was made to evacuate at noon. My mom told me to call my sister Terry and ask when she and her family were coming to the house so we could all leave together.

Sitting on my mom's couch, with everyone within earshot of the conversation, I called Terry.

"Terry," I asked. "When are y'all coming over so we can leave?"

"We aren't going to leave," said Terry.

Terry's response presented me with a dilemma. Everyone was watching my face and, as far as they knew, Terry had said, "We'll be there in ten minutes." I knew that as soon as I said the fateful words "they aren't leaving" a shit-storm would ensue.

I slowly raised my eyes from the carpet, which I had been steadfastly staring at, and looked at my sister Bonnie (I knew better than to look at mom) and said, "They aren't leaving." You know that part in A Christmas Story when Ralphie's mom calls Flick's mom because Ralphie said "fudge" and all you can hear is Flick's mom through the receiver having a shit-fit, "WHAT? WHAT...?" That's what happened in that living room.

Except, I didn't have the luxury of my mom (and sister and aunts and cousins and son and daughter-in-law) being on the other end of the receiver. They were all within about two feet of me and they all started screaming at once, "STUPID!" "DUMB ASSES!" "THEY'LL BE KILLED!" "WE'RE GOING TO GO OVER THERE AND MAKE THEM GO!" "WHAT? WHAT?"

After things settled down a bit, I calmly spoke into the receiver and told Terry, "They said they love you and y'all be careful."

His Eyes Were Bigger Than His Stomach

I was reading the Beaumont Enterprise tonight and there was this little tiny article about a python trying to eat an alligator in Florida and bursting. I did a Google and found out that people have been receiving this picture and story by e-mail. It seems my friends and relatives who usually fill my in-box with gross pictures, jokes I've read (and heard) a thousand times and cutesy prayers and friendship crap are falling down on the job.

According to Snopes, this picture has been going around for a week or so but this is the first I've heard of it. Here's another article that appeared in the Sydney Morning Herald.

Weird Fortune - Part Three

The week before Hurricane Rita hit, I got a strange fortune cookie which I have previously posted about. The fortune read: Something unusual will happen at work next week. I posted about the fact that the day I got the fortune cookie, a guy hit a utility pole right outside my office and then the next week, Beaumont was threatened (and eventually smashed) by hurricane Rita. We spent most of that week preparing for the storm which was, as predicted by the creepy fortune, indeed unusual.

Here's the icing on the cake of the weirdness of that damn fortune. I had taped it to the side of my computer desk so that everyone could wait and watch for the weirdness together. As I was packing up my office for the evacuation, I ripped that evil fortune off my desk and threw it in the garbage. When I got to work this morning, two weeks after packing up my office, I set up my computer and unpacked everything I had packed in anticipation of the storm.

As I put my trash can back in the corner of my office where I keep it, I noticed something sticking to the top of the trash bag. I'll be damned if it wasn't that weird ass fortune!

I'm Home!

I'm finally home. After sleeping for two weeks on various and sundry love seats and couches, I think I've shrunk two inches. My home is remarkably intact. I have power and water and I even have cable. It's actually a little embarrassing. Part of the fence in my courtyard is down and my gate got torn off it's henges just like the Wizard of Oz. My porch light glass was broken but I changed the bulb and it still works. My microwave has a problem as does my radio alarm clock. Other than that, it's all good. The glass top on my patio table wasn't even broken.

Beaumont looks absolutely frightening. Huge trees are either uprooted or broken in half all over the city. Here I am two weeks after the fact and I can't even imagine what it must have looked like two weeks ago. I would say that approximately twenty percent of the houses in the city have trees on or through their roofs.

My little sister, Bonnie, has huge sections of her ceiling in her upstairs bedrooms which have come down and there is sheetrock and insulation all over the place. The amazing thing, however, is that all of her memorabilia, for the most part, seems to be fine.

My aunt's house in Port Arthur had three feet of water in it and my aunt's house in Nederland had a treetop from her front yard fly over her house, crash through portions of her roof above the bathrooms and land in the back yard. She had a pecan tree that has been completely disintegrated.

For the most part, we fared very well. Everyone is alive and accounted for in our family (which is quite large) and we are grateful for that.

Tomorrow, I have to go back to work and I'm grateful for that, too.

Next Year's Hurricane Names

We have decided to stay here in Alvin one more (maybe two) night(s). The power is coming back up in Beaumont but the water is still iffy. Plus, we want to be sure we can watch Desperate Housewives.

Here are my suggestions for next year's hurricane names:

A - Asshole
B - Bastard
C - Crazy Bitch
D - Dumb Ass
E - Evil Sonuvabitch
F - Fart Face
G - Got-damn Piece of Shit
H - Holy Crap
I - Ignorant Butt Head
J - Jackass
K - King of Pain
L - Lowlife Piece of Crap
M - Mutha
N - Numb Nuts
O - Oprah
P - Pain in My Ass
Q - Quit Already
R - Rat Bastard
S - Shit Head
T - Take It All, Why Don't You?
U - Un-Fucking-Believable
V - Victoria's Sea-coast-eater-cret
W - Windy Whore
X - X Marks the Spot and the Spot is You
Y - You Want Some of This?
Z - Zed's Dead Baby, Zed's Dead

I'll let you complete the list...

(Note: Edited 10/7/05 to add R - Z)

Planning to Go Home

We're planning on going home tomorrow (Sunday). Still no power or water but things are looking more hopeful and we might have those necessities by Monday. I have very mixed emotions about going back to Beaumont and seeing all the destruction in my beautiful city but I just want to get that initial shock over with and start cleaning up my little sister's house.

The highlight of our day yesterday was watching the guy dump the dumpster here at my son's condo and today we're going to WalMart.

It's strange to think that I used to complain about things like my cable going out or the vending machine at work not working and, today, I'm praying for water and electricity.