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Archives from 2002-2006

May 21, 2006

Man, I can’t stand having the lube entry (ha! entry) be on the front of this website for one more minute, so typey typey typey BEGONE! To the archives you go, Disturbing Personal Lubricant Photographic Evidence!

I never found out the story behind (ha! behind) the mysterious LubriGel bathroom appearance. Some of you had downright hilarious theories, all of which bothered JB greatly. “I don’t even want to know,” he kept muttering, but then he’d go right back to the comments section and read everything again. “Hemorrhoids…yeah, maybe, but why would – AARGH, I don’t even want to know.”

The drywall guys are supposed to come back tomorrow, and if I see that damn tube again I am totally going to freak out but be too wimpy to say anything and instead talk about it on my BLOG, like ha HA that will show them! confront them this time.

GOD, I’m ready to be done with this remodel. I was already sick of sharing my house with framers, plumbers, electricians, and drywallers, and that was before someone used personal lubricant in my bathroom for an unknown purpose JB does not even want to know about. Good thing we only have the flooring, painting, tiling, cabinetry, and fixtures to go. So we should be done any day now. Yeah. Aaaany day now.

If you are considering a major home improvement project, let me give you a piece of advice: take your most conservative cost estimate, the one you think includes absolutely everything and provides padding in case you go over, and multiply that number by eleventy billion. That might be a little low, actually. Better make it eleventy billion and five.

We were at Home Depot this weekend (an excursion I lovingly documented here) because we needed, among other things, a faucet. Did you know that faucets come in a range of prices ranging from “freaking ridiculous” to “Jeeeeesus CHRIST, is this thing made out of BLACK TAR HEROIN?” Oh, because they do. I mean, I thought a faucet was just, you know, a doohickey that water comes out of, but no. Au contraire! Rather, a faucet is an expensive doohickey that water comes out of.

I also bought several bags of potting soil which apparently contained a large portion of manure, because after using it to plant we now have a giant palpable feces-odor forcefield wafting around in the backyard. It’s like a Port-A-Potty tipped over, then a herd of cattle came in to power-shit on top of that. Ah, the joys of home ownership.

:::

Our work-in-progress new bedroom.

Ha ha ha, Cat in a bib. Haaaa.

Note proximity of child to head-smashingly dangerous brick hearth. Safety first!

Riley commands the foul demons that inhabit this man to depart! Oh lord heal this man and bless him with the ability to change a toilet paper roll.

Dog voices her editorial criticism for Dora the Explorer.

So, speaking, um, hypothetically, what would you do if you had a house full of contractors on a Friday when you were home from work and when you went into your one working bathroom you discovered this on the counter next to the sink?

And it wasn’t YOURS? Or your husband’s? Or the dog’s?

(UPDATE: at about 3:30 PM today, the lube mysteriously disappeared.)

(*shudder*)

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