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  • Of Clay Pipes, Poo, And T-Shirts…

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    If you’ve been around Facebook lately, you’ve probably seen my “Note” about being busier than a one-legged cat in a paper kicking contest… wait… that’s… hmmm… Dammit. Someone must have spilled my metaphors and just tossed ’em all back into the box all willy-nilly and they’re mixed up…

    (SIGH)

    Well, no use spilling my tail over chasing a cry.

    So, anyway… I’m full boated. Just way too much going on in one place, at one time. Therefore, today’s blog is more or less one of those CBS Sunday Morning, “We’ll leave you with…” sort of interludes. If you don’t watch CBS Sunday Morning, basically their sign-off for the show is that tag line, followed by some video of something, usually serene.

    In my case, however, I’m going to leave you with some pictures of my Friday, a few captions, and an advertisement at the end. (Hey, THEY always go directly into a commercial, why can’t I?)

    Jack-hammering out the section of walkway alongside Hell House. The sewer pipe for the West end of the house comes out right around the middle of the window, about 5 feet below ground.

    Concrete pad gone. Pictured here is one of the two holes in the ground that were revealed beneath it. Because of the pressure on the pipe and the fact that it washed out, it literally sluiced away earth and clay, creating these two chasms that went all the way down to the broken pipe. We dubbed them The Grand Canyon and The Mariana Trench.

    Don’t let appearances deceive you. That clay pipe only looks intact. The sweep (turn) is broken at both ends, the 2 foot section near the bottom of the picture is shattered underneath, and where Scuba Steve is standing there’s another two foot section of pipe. However, it is another 8 to 10 inches down because The Grand Canyon had washed out beneath it, so it had broken off at each end and simply dropped to the floor of said canyon. This, of course, resulted in the poo, etc, pouring out of the cast iron pipe to fill the void. It was, to say the least, a might stinky. Good thing it was cold (38 and windy) that day. If it had been July, August, or even September we probably would have needed respirators.

    We had a piece of the high grade PVC on hand from installing the drainage system at Hell House a little over a year ago. A trip to the commercial plumbing supplier garnered us a “boot” to go from Cast Iron to PVC, and then another “boot” designed to connect PVC to Clay pipe. Here we have Scuba Steve inspecting his handiwork in search of leaks while we were doing a pressure test. Once it passed, we back filled with pea gravel and all of the dirt. A replacement concrete pad will have to wait until spring or summer next year.

    There you have my Friday. The joys of maintaining inherited rental property. All I can say is, DON’T DO IT! Have rental property, that is. The headaches aren’t worth it, in my opinion.

    And now for a word from our sponsor…

    **************************************************

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    How about an aspiring, or even established writer. We need gifts too…

    Advice for Writers: http://www.cafepress.com/otegraphics/7521260

    All of the above in different sizes, styles, colors, and designs/quotes.

    For other cool swag, such as tote bags, Evil Kat Tees, Java Affirmation coffee mugs, and the like, visit the front page of the On The Edge Graphics store:

    http://www.cafepress.com/otegraphics

    That’s it from Merp Central for now. I have a ton of stuff yet to do, not the least of which is finish a writing project that is due soon! :-O

    More to come…

    Murv

  • Close Encounters Of The Nekkid Kind…

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    Several weeks back I was doing some work around the house. It was a warm, sunny afternoon in early October as a matter of fact. I happened to be in the back yard when I heard someone at my gate calling out to me.

    I turned to discover a video crew. At first I was a bit taken aback, but then I was also taken aback by a lady in the parking lot of the Home Depot awhile back when she jumped out of her vehicle, pointed at me, and started squealing “You’re… You’re HIM! You’re HIM!” So much so in her case that I dropped the lumber I was loading into the back of my truck and gave myself a nasty gash on my arm.

    I still don’t know which “HIM” she was talking about, but since no police showed up to arrest me I have to assume she didn’t mistake me for someone who had snatched her purse or taken the last jelly donut at the local Krispy Kreme.

    But that’s another story…

    So, back to early October… As it turns out these folks with video equipment in tow had traveled to Saint Louis for the express purpose of interviewing me on their show. Why they hadn’t contacted my publicist first to schedule it remains a bit of a mystery. All I know is that what ensued was a bit weird, disconcerting, made me very uncomfortable, and might not have even been entirely legal. At any rate, after chasing them off my property while  I was wielding an axe handle and screaming obscenities, I thought I’d seen the last of them.

    Apparently I was wrong…

    Even under the threat of legal action, this production company elected to release the footage of that bizarro interview, and to add insult to injury they have done so in several places around the web – from PUF TV to Youtube and beyond. At first I was livid. Then I was pissed. Then I was livid pissed since dividing my energies between the two seemed a bit wasteful. I started making phone calls and planning my revenge, on many levels.

    However… The Amazing Wendy, my publicist, tends to see silver linings where I do not. She has now urged me to give up on my quest to eviscerate these wingnuts, telling me that I should embrace this as a promotional opportunity instead. Wendy can be very convincing. So… Since not everyone is on Facebook, not to mention the state of obscure flux in which the FB news feed dwells, I am taking her advice and posting it here.

    You know, the more I think about it, the more I’m beginning to wonder if  maybe she was in on this the whole time…

    More to come…

    Murv