Being a little on the white-trashy side is something of which I’m neither proud nor embarrassed – it’s simply one aspect of who I am. Some people have red hair, some people have their patellae on the backs of their knees so that they have to have special chairs made in order to sit down, and some people are just a little white-trashy.
For my reader who hasn’t had the
Below is a view from my front steps … sure, the irises (irii?) are okay, but the flower bed is clearly untended, and the hose, which is actually a conglomeration of segments from a number of hoses joined together, lies strewn willy-nilly on the lawn and has more than a passing resemblance to the Gordian Knot. The tree has a rope tied to it to which the Hell Hound gets attached when we’re lounging about; the rope is knotted together in several places, as she snaps it with great regularity – there’s really no stopping 80 lbs of idiot when she wants to
Here’s a shot of the driveway in front of the garage. Note the propane cans scattered around the grill ('cause Safety First!), and the 2’x4’ remnants from the shed project (which is proceeding right on track, with completion anticipated around August ‘14). Power tools out front are considered de rigueur among the W-T set, of course. The hose is not confined to the lawn, as you can see.
Every house needs a Home Security System, and mine consists of a menacing Guard Flamingo, darkened by years of exposure to the harsh Idaho elements. Girl Scouts tremble in fear as they stammer through their cookie sales pitch … ain’t nobody gonna fuck wit’ Bad Bob, yo.
All of this is well and good, and as I said, I’m neither proud nor embarrassed, but I had a realization the other day that may have me at least attempting to class up the joint just a wee bit. I recently obtained a round outdoor table for my patio (free on craigslist, of course – that’s how we W-Ters roll …) – one of those with a hole in the middle and in the base to accommodate the restaurant-style umbrella that I’ve had for some time (also free, from the pub during a remodel, and requiring only slight repair). Here’s a view from inside the house:
Yes, that’s right: there’s a giant pink penis on my front patio. I’m not sure what to do, other than to leave it open all the time. I’ve already heard the mailman refer to my house as “the Johnson place up on the corner,” and my neighbors saying “he should clean up that yard. What a dick.”
Though I’m pretty sure they said that before …