Gnome repellant

I am just so proud of myself!

After the decorative bastards thought making a hell of my life would be fun, I figured I was in for a world of trouble. Gnomes are tenacious, even if they are childish and not really too bright.

Looking for Gnome repellant was pretty much a waste of time. It’s challenging being a fictional critter. The resources that we have are mostly imaginary and of little help in a real situation.

I was reduced to using my brain. I may never recover.

As a last resort and a need for a diversion, I started listening to Air America on the radio. It is so bad that even the Gnomes want it to stop. They have quit coming around and things have been peaceful.

Finally, I have found something that Air America is good for.

Gnomes

I hate Gnomes. In part, it’s a Troll thing. All Trolls hate Gnomes. It’s like dogs chasing cats and cats chasing mice. We really can’t help it. It’s hardwired into our genetic code.

Gnomes hate us as well. They love playing tricks on us, and doing things just to get us all pissed off. They think Troll rage is hilarious.

They are nocturnal little shits that spend their nights partying and being insufferably rude, then spend their days petrified in gardens, posing like statues, while resting for the next night of drunken debauchery.

Don’t believe the hype you see on TV. Things like “The Travel Gnome’ don’t exist. That is just bullshit from the Gnome Antidefamation League. They won a lawsuit years ago and have been using the money they won to promote Positive Gnome Perception.

Those decorative bastards have been hanging out around my rig here at the park and raising hell most of the night. The management has started to complain. They seem to think I am a party animal and a pig. There is Gnomeshit all over the place, and they think I have something to do with it.

I can’t blame the management for being pissed. Those perverted little bastards have been partying their collective asses off. There is Gnometrash all over the place and dead bunnies under bushes. The Gnomes have been raping the rabbits before killing them and throwing the bodies away. They are really sick little bastards.

I have to figure out a way to get the bastards to go away. It’s that, or I will be forced to move to another park.

I need a good Gnome Repellant!

Friday

The Mrs. has been experiencing a streak of bad luck. Her chronically bad back took a turn for the worse, and after an MRI, we learn that she has spine problems. Maybe that’s why she is always telling me her back hurts. (Men are bastards; take it from someone who resembles that remark.)

She also was stunned to watch one of her co-workers pass out in front of her. When the woman began to turn blue, my lovely wife performed CPR. Although both she and I were once licensed EMTs, we did not have the adrenaline addiction necessary and hated doing it. She remembered the drill and did what was necessary. Then she called me and cried.

The washing machine had an anxiety attack and I am not there to counsel it. We seem to break one washing machine a year. This is due to the fact that it is in an unheated garage and is not watched when it gets cold. I have a heater set up, but it will turn off on its own at times and needs to be checked occasionally. Now MrsTroll is forced to go to the (shhhhh) Laundromat!

And last but not last, the stepTroll has been caught acting like a teen and has made his mother’s shit list. You would think he would learn, but he can be a bit slow on the uptake at times. His social life has taken on a life of its own, an active life that keeps him out late and has his mother worrying about him far past her bedtime. Not a good move. Hell hath no fury like a pissed off Mom.

For my part, the work I did for the last week had to be removed and thrown away. Communication is everything, and communication failed on this one. Shit happens, but you can still feel badly about it.

The sooner we both get over this streak of bad luck, the better. It has always fascinated me that things always seem to happen in phases. It seems like the appliances always break down at the same time or the car always breaks right after it goes into the shop.

The weekend is just right around the corner. Next week will be better.

If not, I will be writing this from the asylum.

The latest and greatest

I am obviously in the center of the newest trends in Technology. (Delicately wiping sarcasm from the corner of my mouth.)

One of the local TV stations is offering the latest in interaction; Weatherbug.

I have used Weatherbug at home for years. It is not a big thing where I come from. There is a Weatherbug station not five miles from my house, so I can get realtime temp, humidity, and wind with just the click of my mouse.

Here it is still a big deal and the very latest thing.

When I first moved to New Mexico in the 70s, I was surprised at how behind they were in the latest trends. Now they seem to set the standard in the latest technology.

My how time flies when you are having fun.

Access

My internet access has been…….well……intermittent? (More like optimistic)

I have negotiated arrangements with a third party to let me get on their wireless network. I have to be careful to not abuse this privilege. This party holds the keys to my e-mail and my blog.

(Insert step off the reality bridge here;)

“Must……….protect…………access…..(‘We’ll make nice, won’t we Preciousssss? Must make nice to those who have accessessss. Not like those nasty Hobbits. Dirty, nasty Hobbits don’t share, does they, Preciousss?’)”

(Back to reality.)

I am NOT an addict, I just have a compulsion to type….and post. (And document the conversations with the voices in my head.) I could quit at any time…really.

I am lucky (read ‘pushy’) to have access at all. This is the only wireless access that I have found within thirty miles.

So, please forgive any interruptions in blogging. There are times when I will not have access. (Or I will just be too damn lazy to go anywhere.)

Hopefully the quality will make up for the lack of quantity.

(And maybe monkeys will fly outta my butt singing songs from ‘The Wizard of OZ’ before performing lewd acts on girls wearing gingham dresses and throwing empty beer bottles at the Cowardly Lion.)

Traveling

I have traveled more in the past six years or so than I have traveled in my life.

I actually like it.

Travel exposes you to new and different places. It forces you to expand your view of the world, see things, and have new experiences.

Airports are the exposed raw nerve of humanity. People in airports act like they are the only ones in the world that actually exist, and therefore, they are at their most open. I am surprised that there is not more crime in airports, but with the TSA blockade it would be hard to make an escape.

Social walls are much shorter and thinner in airports, making it much easier to see over them into other behavior

I will not always agree with what I see or how people behave, but my not seeing it and my not agreeing with it are two different things entirely, and besides, it gives me something to blog about.

Instead of hearing ‘You should to have been there,’ you ARE there, experiencing it first hand. It makes seeing different things and cultures a personal thing instead of second hand smoke.

I would suggest it to everyone.

The honeymoon is over

My body no longer does what I want it to, the damn ungrateful thing. Haven’t I kept it well fed and rested? Haven’t I taken it with me everywhere and involved it in my life? Haven’t we had lots of adventures together? I remember that once we even learned about sex together.

We have been involved in the most intimate of relationships, but now my body seems to think I am asking too much of it. It was certainly not complaining when we were having sex or water skiing. It was not aching when we were up all night drinking together. Now it gets stiff and aches for no reason and won’t do what I tell it to do even with OTC pain medicine and a good firm talking to.

The honeymoon is over.

I shouldn’t complain. Not many marriages can claim fifty years and still be sharing the same house. It’s just that in this case the house seems to be thinking it has had enough and wants a time out.

I can remember a day when I could ride a bicycle for sixty miles and still want to screw like a bunny when I got home. Now I can barely ride six miles and my penis acts like it is embarrassed to be seen in the same pants as me. My penis used to be trying to get outta my pants all the time, now I am challenged to find it when I have to pee.

My eyes have problems focusing, as does my mind. I think that my brain has been taking mini vacations and not telling me. There are certainly times that I can’t remember. That would explain why I don’t sleep at night. I am more rested than I thought because my brain was taking a trip outta my mind.

That would also explain why I am hurting even before I get out of bed in the morning. Just like an ungrateful body to go out have a good time and not invite me. I think that my body is embarrassed to be me. That just hurts.

I have been in denial, but now it seems obvious; if we are going to continue to live together, my body and I are going to need to go into therapy.

Pick your fights

What is there about airports that bring out the worst in people? While responding to the cattle call to get on the plane, one guy blatantly jumped the line. Like that was not bad enough, the lady in front of me decided to stand on principal and make an issue of it. Then she decided to try to get me involved.

Frankly I was in no mood for drama. I figure that if that bastard is in that much of a hurry I would just do what I can later to slow him down. Confronting him now is worthless. The more he feels threatened for bullying, the more he is going to defend himself with righteous indignation. No winner.

If I see an opportunity, I will drop things in front of someone like that or trip them when they are trying to get off the plane. I would rather walk over them with a self satisfied grin while they are trying to pick up their dignity.

They argued back and forth all the way to the plane. I just tried to ignore it to the best of my ability, but she kept looking to me for affirmation. Then at the door to the plane, she stopped to put on a surgical mask.

Then it all fell into place in my mind; The eternal struggle of bullies against the tree huggers. These two could snipe at each other for days.

I took evasive action. Getting anywhere near these two would just be an exercise in futility.

I feel that an adult should learn to pick his fights. Just striking out like a whiny child when someone offends you hurts you more than it hurts them. Wait until a time of your choosing and give them an opportunity to look like fools. They will seldom fail to rise to the occasion.

We need rain!

The weather people of the state have had us all on the edges of our seats with threats of snow.

But, as usual this year, it ain’t gonna happen.

True to character, Mother Nature once again is going to lift her figurative skirts to precipitate everywhere but here.

If things don’t change soon, there are going to be more and much more serious fires in the lovely state of New Mexico.

Read the label

Dry Roasted Peanuts

Ingredients: Peanuts, Dry Roasted, with Salt and Tapioca Dextrin

Processed in a facility that processes peanuts and other nuts.

Ya think??

The Sisters

‘The Sisters’ arrived just as I was thinking that no one would want to sit next to me wayyyy in the back next to the toilet. Ah well. The plane is full. Such is life.

They immediately started going on and on about how the other sister that has never flown before is being forced to sit all alone toward the front of the plane and she was going to be scared out of her wits and look at how big her eyes are……..blah blah blah.

Lets get this straight out of the box. I knew what they were getting at and I am not insensitive, but they never actually asked if I would be willing to switch seats. They hinted and acted like it would be the manly Texan thing to do, but I am not Texan and a Troll is not a manly man. I resent people trying to manipulate me, so I did not offer to switch and decided to enjoy the seat I had.

The one sitting next to me was obviously obsessive compulsive. She wore cheap costume rings on each and every finger and always has something in her mouth. It developed that she also had to touch her food. Well, not touch so much as fondle. She would fondle anything that went into her mouth. She could not sit still. She had to be doing something all the time. She was annoying as hell. She never shut up.

In that awful period when plane passengers are getting to know a little about each other, I learned that they were on their way to Albuquerque to visit with their brother, “and get away from husbands and kids,” and that they all were still living in the same town they were born in. One nice close little family that still has Mommy telling them what to do and where to go to church.

They complained for the whole two hours. They complained about the seating, the service, the ride, the food, the drinks, having to pay for cocktails, having to be away from home, flying in general, the stewardess gossiping with her friend, how long it was taking, not knowing where they were, and the fact that it was going to be colder in Albuquerque than it is in South Texas. They complained about absolutely everything.

As we got closer to Albuquerque, I began recognizing landmarks and point them out to the sisters, trying to let them know we were getting close to landing. (and also hoping they would stop bitching.) The OC sister promptly informed me that I was wrong because we still had an hour in the air and that the pilot should at least tell the passengers were we are.

Obviously my having lived in the area for more than thirty years has left me totally ignorant of my surroundings and unable to tell time. Not to mention that in that part of New Mexico there is nothing but ranchland and dust.

When the flight attendant informed everyone that we would be landing shortly, the sisters were happy, but not as happy as I. I wanted to get as far away from these bra-wearing cretins as possible. What gets inbred in Texas should stay in Texas.

While we were waiting for the rest of the cattle to get out of the plane in front of us, the OC sister commented that she does not like traveling. I restrained myself. I did not tell her all the things that I had been thinking while having to listen to her bitch and moan her way across two states. I did not tell her that her trying to change the world to how she thought it should be would never work, how her view of the world was limited by what she wanted to see as opposed to that there is to see, or that her constant bitching made her a very unattractive girl. I didn’t say a thing.

Until now.

And, a special message to “The Sisters”, (if they should happen to read this and recognize that I am talking about them;)

If you read this, you’re too fucking close.

A Public Disservice Message

A Public Disservice Message from MizfiTroll

Please spay or neuter your spouse.

That is all

My trip home...

I woke up at my usual ungodly hour and decided that it would be a good time to do laundry and things before leaving. I was fortunate in the fact that they do leave the laundry open at night. I cleaned the Dog House and made things spick and span so that anyone that breaks in while I am gone will not have a messy house to deal with. (It’s kinda like having clean underwear if you are in a car accident.)

The valley airport is definitely not the largest I have been in, but you would think so by how much they charge for food. The fukkerz want almost eight bucks for a sandwich in plastic wrap. I could get a better deal on the other side of the TSA gauntlet. I think it’s a scam. They put all the good places to eat before you get checked because no one in their right mind would want to go through that shit again. Some day I will remember that they are going to make me take off my shoes every time.

Waiting for the plane I met ‘The Sweating Man’. He broke into a sweat while on the phone to someone about getting his pants from the hotel where he left them. He blames the location of the closet for his forgetting them. Perhaps there is a relationship between his forgetting his pants and his sweating bullets. We shall never know. I imagine some demented scenario involving a prostitute and his paying her extra to stay and remove the fluid stains from the crotch, but I am sure you can make up things on your own.

The actual flight was pretty uneventful. There was an open seat next to me, making the standard Southwest Airlines ‘cattle car’ seating quite tolerable. I arrived in Houston with enough time to grab an affordable sandwich before getting in line to board the plane to Albuquerque.

Then things began to go downhill.

There is something about the way Southwest does their seating that brings out the competitive urge in people. Everyone is asking others in line, “What line is this? Is this the ‘A’ line? Is this the ‘B’ line?” They all begin shuffling and jockeying for position, trying to get the ‘best’ place in line.

What the hell does it matter? It’s ‘cattle car’ seating! No matter where you sit, it is going to suck! Get over it!

When I finally was herded into the plane, I saw that the back was still relatively empty. I made my way to the far back seat and took a window seat for the two-hour flight. “So far so good,” I thought.

I was wrong.

“The Sisters” arrived.

Next Post; “The Sisters.”

The company insisted

The company insisted on sending me home for the weekend. Unfortunately, it takes most of a day to fly from here to there, wasting one entire workday when things are just getting started. I won’t even get back to work before Wednesday of next week. I will be sure to pay more attention to travel time for future trips.

In the meantime, I am at least able to post from the airport. It a small kinda place, not like the huge airports that I am used to. This is a good thing. The only bad thing is that I am separated from the Starbucks by the TSA. Sigh.

While I am waiting, I have posted all the weirdness that I saved but thought I was going to have to wait ‘till tomorrow to post. Gawd I LOVE all this modern shit.

South Padre Island

I finally got to the island last night. Obviously it is there to separate people from their disposable income. Lots of high dollar hotels and expensive restaurants make spending money easy. The T-shirt shops that litter the strip make it easy to tell that this is a tourist destination.

I will probably be doing my shopping in the town next to the island. There is really nowhere near to where I am staying to get groceries and shit, but last night I found a Wally World and other shopping. Sure beats the little grocery store in town here that advertises everything in Spanish and proudly tells us that the store has a Chihuahua puppy for sale.

I know that I appreciate a grocer that keeps in mind that I might need a puppy to help me eat leftovers. I wonder if the he keeps the puppy in the meat cooler.

I think I have arranged Internet access from the jobsite, making it possible to post while I am in South Texas.

Hell on Wheels

I left a rather nice RV Park and took a step into hell on wheels.

The wind did blow. Oh my, did it blow. It blew all the way to the time I stopped. The first couple of hours were OK, but the last three turned into the last five. I finally just turned on the cruise control at 55 and tried to make the best of things. (Meaning I went slowly and dodged things blowing down the road at me.)

The town I am staying in is nothing to speak of, just another small town with a few stores trying to make it in the real world. Located near Brownsville, it is trying to keep the larger city at bay. This place seems to keep its small town charm with a vengeance. I would not be surprised to find a moat that marks the city limits.

I don’t think there is Internet anywhere in the town. The small hotel does not advertise it, so I assume it is not here. The park does not even have cable. I do have four TV networks in English. I would have a lot more entertainment if I spoke Spanish.

The humidity seems to be about 100 percent all the time, something I am not used to. I live in the high dessert where the humidity is usually in the teens and the air is thin. On the other hand, it is good bicycling here. The land is flat and the air is rich. I have been riding around the town, learning which was is which, and getting some much needed exercise.

The hill country.

I am in an RV park just outside of San Antonio, Texas. This place makes up for all the crappy parks that I saw or stayed in while in West Texas.

The pool is open, the wireless works, and the weather is great. I have to pay for Internet access, but at $2.50 a day, it seems like a bargain. (It seems like a bargain when you are addicted and haven’t had a fix in over twenty-four hours.) The access is wireless and I am able to surf in the Dog House. I LOVE modern technology.

I have learned on this trip that driving eight hours dragging your house behind you is exhausting. The first thirty minutes you are thinking about all the things that you could have forgotten. The second thirty minutes are convincing yourself that anything you forgot has already been done and it is not worth stopping for. After that you kinda settle in and enjoy the scenery.

When I finally stop after driving too long, I feel stupid and disoriented. Shorter days are better.

Today should be interesting. The weathermen are predicting a headwind for me. Driving an RV in a headwind is kinda like driving a billboard.

On the up side, I have plenty of time to get to my destination and my only real goal is to get through San Antonio with no problems. I am not fond of driving through cities when they are busy. I tend to travel a bit slower than the posted speed limit, and that pisses off people on their way to work.

Let’s see what my next stop is.

Hello from Texas!

Pecos, Texas, made famous in song and tall tale from the Old West. People who like stories of the old West (Or remember the old Disney shorts) know of Pecos Bill.

I am not all that familiar with the tales of the West, but just having just passed through the town of Pecos, I know that now it is not much to get excited about. With less than 10,000 people, I think the most it has to brag about is that it actually has a Walmart, and it has not blown away in the wind.

There is no scenery to speak of, just vast spaces and big sky. Not even a cloud to break up the monotony. The streets are gray, and the dirt is gray. You could have filmed the first scenes of “The Wizard of Oz” there and not had to use black and white film.

Even the tumbleweeds seem to be trying to escape.

The town main street is perfect for parades. I just don’t see anything to have a parade for. The town boasts that it is the home of the first rodeo, but that is in the past like everything else that ever made this place worth living in. (As far as I can see.)

I made my escape from there to go on to Ft. Stockton, Texas. Larger, more modern, it still does not seem to have realized that we are in a new century. I failed to find Internet access in any of the RV parks in town.

If you don’t like what is on TV, you change to the other channel. That’s it. (There is a third channel, but it is in Spanish.) Even what I see on the TV seems to be about anywhere but here. I think I will take a hint and get on the road.

Hasta, Ya All!

I am pissed

Two weeks ago, The Mrs. and I went in and got our eyes checked and ordered new glasses. Mine need to be safety glasses and I was told that they would take up to two weeks to come in. The Mrs.’s would be done sooner.

Last Saturday the Mrs. and I dropped in to pick up her glasses and I asked that they make sure that mine were going to be ready because I am leaving town for a while.

Today they called and told me that the glasses are not ready, and would not be ready. But not right away. Oh NO. First they said that the frames did not come in. When once again I told them that I was leaving, they said they would call the manufacturer and call me back.

Four hours later I had to call them, to have them call me back, just to have them tell me that they could not be ready and they would MAIL them to me. (Like I have a mailing address in an RV)

They sold me something that they did not have in stock and made no effort to make sure that it was available, ignored my reminder that they try to make it available on the original delivery date, and waited until the delivery date to bother to tell me that they could not supply the product.

I have had similar prescriptions made before in about an hour, but the Mrs. got insurance this year and it made sense to use it. What a mistake THAT was.

The eye doctor at the place charged three times what I paid for an eye exam one year ago. The glasses cost twice as much as the ones I bought one year ago. I don’t believe that the market for glasses or eye exams have changed that much in just one year.

The only difference seems to be having insurance and getting crappy service.

Now I think I know why health insurance premiums are so damn high.

You get to pay extra for crappy service.

Road Trip!

I am excited. (Insert the “Troll dance of Happiness and Joy” here.) (Now stick a chop- stick in your ear to remove that part of your brain that holds that particular memory. Don’t you feel better now?)

After about a month if hanging at the Casa de Trolls with little more to do than practice typing and contemplating my navel, I am going back to work. (Navel contemplation is vastly overrated and pays squat.)

I will be on the road for at least two days and Internet access at my destination looks……….sparse?   (I am not going to be reduced to dial-up. I won’t. I won’t I won’t!)

I am supposed to be in South Texas on Monday the 9th. I think I will take my time and maybe take a coupla side trips. I haven’t been in that part of the country in more than twenty years.

I am taking my house with me. Well….. my Dog House, actually. Troll’s Dog House is a 5th wheel trailer that I live in when I am on the road. It is quite comfortable and when the wifey gets mad at me I ask her to put me in the Dog House. (I would admit that pissing her off just to spend the night there has crossed my mind, but she reads this and would probably threaten my manhood. We would not want that, now, would we?)

Here I am, standing at the door of yet another adventure in the commercial construction industry. I will try to keep you up to date and interested.

Viggo

Mrs. Troll has a thing for Viggo Mortensen.

You know who he is, that fella that played Aragorn in the Lord of the Rings.

This weekend we saw a picture of him on TV and the Mrs. mentioned that she thinks he is hot. Really hot.

In a brief burst of machismo I commented that he is about as liberal as one can get and still think they are alive. “A real tree hugger’s tree hugger,” I think I called him.

Mrs. Troll’s response?  “I don’t want to talk to him. I just want to fuck him.”

Damn. She does have a way with words.

Happy New Year!

Welcome to 2006. We’re glad you made it!

I don’t do the resolution thing. When asked what my resolutions are, I tell people that I resolve to not make resolutions. That’s one resolution I can keep year after year.

I went to bed last night way before ten. One of the StepTrolls was stunned that I would not want to be there to bring in the New Year. Before going to sleep, I gave that concept a bit of thought.

StepTroll is about fifteen years old. My first Fifteen New Years were a pretty exciting thing to me. My second Fifteen New Years were pretty much an excuse to get fucked up and do stupid things. My third Fifteen New Years were learning that being fucked up all the time was not a good thing.

I am now in the fourth Fifteen New Years and I have no idea what my thing is this time, but I am bound and determined to enjoy and make the best of it.

No matter what Fifteen New Years you are in, I hope you are enjoying it and learning something every day.