Vacation, day 3

Sung to the 12 Days of Christmas…
“…On the third day of vacation I truly have become…BORED, with a cap-it-all B!”

Okay, time to find something constructive to do around here, I think I’ll clean the basement.

We went shopping yesterday, just my wife and I. We left my son at home because all he does is bitch and complain about everything and about everywhere we go.  I was able to get a few things for my wife, we even picked up a few small things for my sons girlfriend.  We stopped at the grocery store to get our turkey and some other stuff.  We’ll still be making another trip likely on friday to pick up the rest of the beer requirements and some final food stuffs.  My wife keep talking abotu doing some baking, but she always seems to be out doing stuff for a poor neighbour instead. Oh well, I guess I shouldn’t complain, she’s happy doing it and she is doing a good thing (by helping this single mom).
I had a wierd incident last night.  As my wife was starting to do the dishes, she informed me that there appeared to be no hot water.  I went down in the basement and checked the hot water heater.  We have an oil-fired one.  I pressed the little red button to get it fired up again, and it tried, but failed several times.  I then proceeded to take it apart.  I’ve had a few repairmen show me how and what to do with it when it doesn’t start.  So here I am removing fuel lines and taking out the nozzle from which the fuel sprays from.  Adjusting the igniters and putting it all back together several times before discovering that the nozzle itself was clogged.  I took it apart, took off the little filter and cleaned it all by using my compressor to blow air through it all.  I eventually got it all back together and tried it several more times but to no avail.  I gave up and went to bed thinking that we’d have to get a repairman in to fix it.  I went down into the basement this morning and figured I’d try to start it, just to see what would happen, but not expecting anything successful.  I started it, it ran like it usually did, for a fwe seconds then shut off.  I tried it again, this tmie it actually started but then stopped.  I left it and went upstaires.  I came back down a little while later and tried it again, this time it fired up successfully!  We have hot water again!  Damn I’m good!  Now, on to that basement cleaning up…damn.


The teacher gave her fifth grade class an assignment… Get their parents to tell them a story with a moral at the end of it.
The next day the kids came back and one by one began to tell their stories.
Ashley said, “My father’s a farmer and we have a lot of egg-laying hens.
One time we were taking our eggs to market in a basket on the front seat of the car when we hit a big bump in the road and all the eggs went flying and broke and made a mess.”
“What’s the moral of the story?” asked the teacher.
“Don’t put all your eggs in one basket!”
“Very good,” said the teacher.
Next little Sarah raised her hand and said, “Our family are farmers too. But we raise chickens for the meat market.
We had a dozen eggs one time, but when they hatched we only got ten live chicks, and the moral to this story is, “don’t count your chickens before they’re hatched.”
“That was a fine story Sarah. Michael, do you have a story to share?”
“Yes, my daddy told me this story about my Aunt Karen.
Aunt Karen was a flight engineer in the Gulf War and her plane was hit.
She had to bail out over enemy territory and all she had was a bottle of whisky, a machine gun and a machete.
She drank the whisky on the way down so it wouldn’t break and then she landed right in the middle of 100 enemy troops.
She killed seventy of them with the machine gun until she ran out of bullets.
Then she killed twenty more with the machete until the blade broke. Then she killed the last ten with her bare hands.”
“Good heavens,” said the horrified teacher, “what kind of moral did your daddy tell you from that horrible story?”
“Stay the f#ck away from Aunt Karen when she’s been drinking”

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: