I'm toast. Laid down for an hour an a half, Thursday night. Since then, I've divided my time between the basement, bathroom, attic and the local lumber yard/hardware stores. I think I've been up for 48 hours straight. They would be the only straight things I've come across in this odyssey of wood, plumbing, electrified wires and bad coffee. The general plan is to keep working right through tomorrow morning, throw some shit in a bag and head for the north pole about noon if the weather changes drastically from the constant downpour and mind-numbing fog that has not let a flight out of here in days. Still no bathroom fixtures, but the electrical is roughed in and, OH, my coffee is ready...
-later
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4 comments:
mother hen says.. no powers tools when you drink OR are exhausted to the point where; cutting off a hand goes un-noticed.
ok. take a lude, mellow. get ready for the boat. send LP,PW off with mom.
You've done all the work. I saw, and you were only 4 hrs (fer me) away from done. Not my glory, yours.
It's a wrap.
I'm rescheduling.
done deal.
i can just taste the chicky soup...
Mr Bud you should have a blog....!
Pirate say Hi to Rudolph for us and dont frostbite anything important.
hmmmm. cerebralflatulence dot com.
oh, yeah.. that would sell.
the stench would increase global warming by an exponential factor. safer just stinking up pirate's place. saves them on the heat bill. till they say.. go home.
(but right now they're sayin 'where the hell are you..?")
oh, and update.. pirate can't type. so say what you want.. he can read but can't respond. tempting ain't it? see? i'm evil too.
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