Saturday, July 30, 2016

I Found It in the Tea-Room at Flaming Amy's -- and OTHER Mysteries of This Late Afternoon / Going from Glory to Glory!!!

Best men's room stall graffiti I've seen in years, and I'll explain shortly what I was doing with a camera in Flaming Amy's bathroom!!!

First of all, Dapper Dan was around all day, and before I knew it, my front bedroom/office had filled with CHLORINE GAS -- or at least the strong smell of bleach. I had filled a spray bottle with 50% bleach solution and explained it was ONLY to spray around the base of the back toilet if/when the bacteria odor got strong -- before we pull the thing and replace the wax seal, which I think will fix it.

Turned out that Dan had already wiped all the bathroom walls down spraying this solution and then wiping around with a wet rag, then done half his bedroom as well, and the odor was THICK. I doubt thick enough to harm anyone, but it had no intention of quickly dissipating, and was too much for me. I explained that it was too much, and he should thin it WAY down if he wants to be sure he's disinfecting his walls, but he couldn't grasp the concept, and after I all but wrested the bottle from his hands (without upsetting him), he said he'd buy some Lysol to clean the walls -- the ONLY smell (other than Old Spice), I cannot endure -- oh, and prolonged strong bleach.

Obviously, Dan has never learned a thing about household chemicals safety, and while I own no ammonia, I bet he could find SOMETHING that would release TONS of Chlorine gas at once.

Could I EVER leave him alone in the house???

So that shut down until he can buy some UN-SCENTED Lysol, our compromise -- since he can't grasp using a bucket of hot slightly soapy and bleachy water -- easily available from TWO places in this apartment.

And an hour later, I found him in the New Hanging Garden of Babylon, so relaxed he had fallen asleep in a chair -- cigarette with two-inch ash between his fingers -- that had ALSO burned a half-inch-long hole in his new shorts he bought yesterday.

When I woke him, he denied that he had fallen asleep smoking, and after he trashed the butt, he even stuck his finger in his new hole (no lube necessary), and when I pointed out that he HAD TO have fallen asleep smoking, he claimed the cigarette had gone OUT first.

"So HOW did you get that new hole???" asked I.

That was when I decided I didn't care if he burns everything down, I was getting out, and why not try Flaming Amy's Burrito Barn for an early dinner??? And I took my camera along, thinking I might chance on something of beauty to add to this blog.

And I did.

When I returned "Falwell" had returned and he and Dan were changing his inner tube out front, and with Dan on his phone, Falwell and I talked and I learned a WHOLE different story about how he lost his wallet. The funny thing was that Dan, only, had told me this morning, and included they had searched up and down many streets -- which made no sense if it had been left on a bar -- but Dan was so CERTAIN of the rest of it, I dismissed the one part that was right: he had lost it out of a POCKET while riding Dan's bicycle he had borrowed, since his had a flat tire.

>>> ADDED @ 7:59 PM, EDT: An hour after Falwell had replaced the inner tube and rolled it half a mile for air, he rode partway back -- and got a flat in the OTHER tire.

I have DECLARED that they can have any troubles they want -- as long as they keep them entirely to themselves, and inconvenience me in no way. They can tell me about it while we are hanging out talking, but NOT interrupt my writing, news watching, or similar.

And HERE is a sample of all the EMAILS I am now being BOMBARDED with from Facebook since they kicked me off for exposing CIA/Clinton robots in support of Narco-Trafficking. When I'm on Facebook a LOT, I don't get them this fast. Please notice the high quality of activity:


Chicago sources claim president was part of dark subculture


I'm not going back to CIA's Facebook, period.

Well, I figure that if "God" wants me to help these lambs get their HUMAN FEET BACK, things will quiet down and stay less absurd -- or it will all soon EXPLODE FOR GOOD, no???

I leave you with a beautiful image:

MY kinda staircase!!!

Preparing for Dapper Dan's White Wedding (and actually, the girl's black), at The Breakers Hotel, Palm Beach, Florida

Perhaps I will recover by tomorrow . . . 


If the wedding doesn't work out, we'll hit The Breakers for Christmas!!!


No comments:

Post a Comment