Bobservations

No Carlos story, but a funny story about a repairman.

Last Friday our oven stopped working; wouldn’t heat up or would take far too long to reach the desired temperature. So Carlos calls a guy we know who has repaired appliances in the past; he doesn’t work weekends but Monday morning he called early to say he’d be out at 9AM.

On the dot he shows up and heads into the kitchen, and as I enter the room he is walking to the refrigerator and opening the freezer door, and says to me:

“What’s the trouble here?”

And I say:

“That’s not the oven.”

Man, he was embarrassed, because his second call that morning was for an ice maker that wasn’t working; he turned all shades of red and so I said:

“If you want something to eat just ask.”

He didn’t, but he laughed and then he did get the oven back up and running for a mere sixty bucks.

This Tuxedo Memory is from September 13, 2015:

“I Can't With This Cat ... Tuxedo Kills Me

First off, what's with the 'Don't shoot,' pose?

And then why does he always lay down like he's trying out for the US Luge team for the next Winter Olympics?”

That boy knew how to pose down the house!

I have seen this sign at our local recycling center ever since we bought our home, but this last weekend I finally took out the phone and snapped a picture.

First off: FlATTEN? Why all caps except for the “L”? And CARDboarD? What does that mean? And then to add to the confusion, “Squished, STOMPEd, etc etc etc.”

It boggles the mind.

House Oversight Committee Chairman James Comer was all about impeaching Joe Biden; so much so that he even had a book deal at the ready to make some coins off the impeachments. And just last week when asked about the impeachment evidence he said, “Wait and see.”

And now he’s saying, “I give up.”

After 15 months of coming up short in proving his claims against Biden, Comer recently told one of his GOP colleagues that he was ready to be “done with” the impeachment inquiry.

Cuz there’s no there, there.

As Taylor Swift accepted the Grammy Award in February for best pop vocal album she told the crowd that she had a new album, “The Tortured Poets Department,” coming in April.

First off, “tortured” poet? Bitch please. It's billionairess bitching about mean boys.

Anyway … she spent a lot of the album dogging her last two boyfriends—pre-Travis Kelce—even though she claimed she was never happier; seriously, while dating Matt Healey she declared she was the “happiest” she’d ever been. And now she sings about him in a song called “The Smallest man In The World.”

Here’s the deal: sing about all your old boyfriend if it sells your albums, but admit you are also to blame for the breakup because it don’t happen alone. And pay attention, Travis, because if history teaches us anything, it’s that your songs will be coming sooner rather than later.

Okay, I am all about interesting and different clothing, but whoever came up with these shorts needs a good smackdown. What in the ever-loving culotte-drapery hell is going on here?

And then these flip-flops … unless you’re leaving a trail for people looking for dick, maybe rethink your footwear?

Well, well, well … dozens of migrants that Florida Governor, and Head Gogo Dancer, Ron DeSantis tricked into flying from Texas to Martha’s Vineyard  for a $615,000 taxpayer funded political stunty, have now been granted visa as human trafficking  victims of Ron DeSantis.

This is Leon Nieuwoudt, a model and actor and realtor … really, realtor? Whatever he might be the question remains: Would You Hit It?

Bobservations

Carlos has been under the weather this week and naturally blames me because two weeks ago I had a wicked cough that I gave to him, which then lay dormant in his chest for two weeks only to appear now.

So, as we do at Casa Bob y Carlos, the sickie sleeps in the guest room so they can get a good night’s sleep and not infect the non-sickie. Carlos has been in Guest Room Confinement since Monday and seemed to be feeling better, but this morning his cough was back and phlegm-y and gross. In the kitchen I said to him:

“You sound worse.”

“Well, then I guess I’d better keep practicing.”

That was a pretty good joke, but I’ll keep that to myself since everyone knows I’m the funny one.

This Tuxedo Memory is from August 2011 after I finished painting the living room and was putting the room back together:

“Finally getting some of the art back on the walls.

The photo above the desk is of a window shade and windowsill covered in broken glass that I found at a winery in Amador County, California. The desk is Carlos', from eons past, while the Bible is mine—yes, mine—and is an old family Bible. The statue on the right is called Twisted Kitty and is made of wrought iron. I found her in a furniture store in the Mission District of San Francisco.

This is one of the many pieces of Asian-inspired art we have in the house; there's something about these things that Carlos and I both love. It sits high on the wall in the sunroom, and you can only see it when you enter the room.

My mother used to do something called Tole painting, which is a type of folk art. She learned to do this from her sister, and my mom spent years painting anything and everything. This is one of the few wall-art pieces of hers that I have and it sits in the kitchen where I can see it, and smile, every day.

And, of course, this is an example of living art. The most beautiful cat in the world, Tuxedo.”

I will never get over his expressive face.

So, people have been mocking Florida Governor Ron DeSantis’ cowboy boots, trying to see if he’s wearing height-boosting insoles lifts to look taller than the 6’3” primary frontrunner who has a penchant for nicknames and is reportedly considered calling DeSantis “Tiny D.”

This is politics in America where it’s not what you promise but whether or not you’re a tiny little man trying to look bigger.

Ps My favorite joke is that the guy who hates drag is walking around in three-inch heels.

Well, unlike Beyoncé  who never met a check she didn’t want to cash, Rod Stewart has snubbed a mega money offer to perform in Saudi Arabia because of the country’s oppression of “women, the LGBTQ community [and] the press” in the kingdom.

Perhaps he should school Mrs. Carter.

In more SCOTUS Scams featuring Clarence Thomas, it seems he borrowed $267,230 from a wealthy “friend” to buy a 40-foot luxury motor coach and was to make annual interest-only payments for five years after which the principal come due. But it seems Thomas has failed to repay any, or all, of the quarter-million-dollar principal.

Someone needs to investigate the con-artists in black robes on the nation’s highest court, and then remove them from their positions.

I am so over the hate in this country … I mean, it’s America and we are killing Americans because they’re Jewish or Muslim.

It’s sickening and makes me want to move anywhere else in the world and change my nationality.

As I said up top, Carlos is not feeling well and has slipped into delirium. As we watched TV he turned to me and said:

“Did I ever tell you about the time I bought a black shirt?”

I am having him committed this morning.

This is 30-year-old actor, model, and former football player for the University of Tennessee Justus Pickett, but this has nothing to do with that … instead, Would You Hit It?

On My Way .....

 I am already midair on the way back home. My dad is doing very well, we've lined up friends to check in on him, and my brother will be up in a week to take my Dad to his next orthopedic appointment.

All is good, and thanks so much for the positive thoughts. I will be home very late tonight and have some cartoons set for tomorrow and something for Tuesday, but new posting won't be back until Wednesday  cuz I'm'a need a minute.

Thanks again. Talk soon.

It's Like This:

 ... I was at work Thursday November 3rd when Carlos called:

"Call your dad. He's at home saying he's having trouble breathing."

Not a desperate thing, so much, except rather than calling, oh I dunno, say a doctor or a paramedic, the fire department, my father dials a house 3,000 miles away to complain of dizziness and trouble breathing.  I suggest all those aforementioned other choices or I'll make those call myself, so Dad relents and calls the paramedics.

Sidenote: when I was in high school I was home one night watching TV with my mother and sister when my father entered the room, told us he thought he was having a heart attack, and was driving himself to the hospital. M y mother was so stunned she was motionless, and so off my dad went to discover it was gas or indigestion or anything other than a heart attack. By the time he returned home, my mother had recovered enough to rip him a new one about his antics.

I called the nearest hospital to my dad and was told his blood pressure had dropped and there were some issues with his heart and they were looking for a bed for him in a cardiac hospital. I left work and went home where Carlos and I--who had planned on visiting my father this week for a vacation, worked on getting me the quickest flight out, which was at 4:30AM Friday morning. I kept in contact with the doctor in Newport, who told me my father was doing fine, laughing and joking, but being transferred to Salem Health Hospital. I tried them and, well, you know, bureaucracy, they had no record of my dad being admitted. That naturally panicked me, but I was off anyway, flying out as fast as possible.

I got to Oregon, rented  a car and drove down to Salem where my father was in the cardiac wing. He looked a little worse for wear, but I guess, who wouldn't. They were putting two stents in to open up an artery to his heart, and he would also get a pacemaker "installed." One days the stents were in and the next day the pacemaker, and then it was decided he needed two more stents and those didn't go in until Tuesday; Dad was not happy. But this made me feel better because he was awake and angry and ready to rumble to get out.

So, the third stent went in and there was one complication; they go in through a vein in the groin and a blood vessel was nicked and my father was bleeding; not serious, but worrisome. And that little nick kept him hospitalized for four more days until they could figure out what happened and why and how to fix it. And aill that took was a cardiac doctor coming in, explaining that sometimes the nick creates a bubble on the vein that fills with blood; the bubble usually goes down by itself but not in my Dad's case. But when the doctor found out that his home was 90 minutes away and not in Salem, she came back into the room with her nursing assistance and basically popped the bubble right then and there.

And Dad was out. I had, in the meantime, gotten hold of my brother, and he was coming up so we could tag-team dad and I could go home. i hared the idea of Carlos being home alone, though we had friends and neighbors who checked in, stopped by for lunched and drove him to get groceries and such, but as I told my Dads, Carlos is my priority and as soon as my brother arrived, I booked the hell out of Oregon and came home ... where I have been for a few days relaxing and enjoying my life and husband and pets while my dad is home, with my brother, recuperating quite nicely.

And so that was my week-and-a-half of drama, including Dad's dog and his house and the cold and a rental car so tiny I almost had to crawl inside to drive it.

But all is well and we are once again settling into our routine, though Carlos and I may head out to Oregon sometime next month for a real vacation. Again , thanks for all the good thoughts, I really think that energy helps.

New Update

Well, look who's talking ...

My father came home from the hospital yesterday after a week inside. He has a pacemaker now, and a couple of stents, and there was a minor complication--not heart related--that kept him linger than he wanted, but now he's home and feeling better.

My brother arrived to tag-team, and so I am on my way home. I may not post for a few days because I'd like a little time with my husband and The Kids. Thanks again for all your good wishes, it was much appreciated.

Talk soon.

PS Howsabout that "Red Surge"? 🤣

Bobservations

I don’t have a Carlos Tale this week because he’s been busy working on a translation and has been very quiet. But I do have an example of how I will say just about anything …think Sophia, on The Golden Girls, who had a stroke that affected the part of her brain that censors speech; that’s me.

The other day at work my boss’ son was there and he pulled me aside to ask a question and this is what he said:

“Have you heard any rumors going around?”

“Rumors? Here?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, it’s a small office in a small town. After we get done talking God and guns all that’s left is gossip.”

“Okay. I’m talking about a rumor about a romantic entanglement between a couple of employees.”

"I’m gonna need more. At least one name—”

“Nah, I shouldn’t say a name.”

I got up to walk away and then it hit me. I turned and said:

“Oh my god, are you talking about your dad and me? I mean, it’s cool, your mom knows.”

Stunned him into silence

Once again Tuxedo has proven that, like his two Dads, he has zero fucks left to give to these anti-masker, anti-vaxxer loons.

Lucky baby.

It was announced yesterday that Transportation Secretary Pete Buttigieg and his husband Chasten are set to become parents, and that lucky baby will be calling Pete “Daddy.”

Green is not a good color on me.

Greg Abbott has COVID. He says he’s been vaccinated but, you know, maybe if he’d covered his goddamned face with a mask he might not have contracted the virus.

Stupid is as stupid does, and I do not feel sorry for him. No, ma’am, I do not.

We are planning to replace the carpet in the house with hard wood floors; this has been an ongoing discussion forEVER but now we are ready. For a while, I wanted really dark floors, and was even thinking of going with an almost Black Bamboo style. But times change and so do I, and I have settled on—in our house, while there is input from all parties, I make the design and paint choices because even Carlos says I am better at it—three samples:

Ivory White Bamboo—we love that it’s a sustainable product, and very durable with pets and such. I love the lightness to it.

Natural Hickory—looks very typical in hardwood flooring [a negative in my book] but I love the gray tones, which pick up the gray walls in the living room.

Saddle Hickory—is a bit darker than we liked, and the planks are only about three inches wide, but I like the gray tones in this one, too.

We have a couple of other places to look at, and then we’ll decide, replacing the carpeted living room and hallway, and the :::ak::: parquet in the dining room.

With nearly 60% of Americans fully vaccinated, most of the nation’s blood supply is now coming from donors who have been inoculated. And that has led some patients, well, anti-vaxxer patients, to demand transfusions only from the unvaccinated.

If only there was a vaccine for ignorance.

The other day we couldn’t find Max Goldberg. I thought he’d somehow gotten outside, because he is a creature of habit and either sleeps on our bed, on the floor in the living room, in Carlos’ lap, or else he’s eating.

But try as we might, he was nowhere to be found, and as I was ready to search the yard, Carlos said maybe he was sleeping in the closet. Though I know Max doesn’t do this, I went back to check, and I heard his whiny little ‘mew.’ I called again, and the whiny mew intensified, and that’s when I saw him:

He has decided sleeping in my nightstand behind my books is a new thing.

It’s been said that QAnon nutbag Lauren Boebert gave tours to insurrectionists in the days leading up to the Capital Riots. I don’t know about that—though I wouldn’t be surprised if it was proven true—but I do know that Boebert, in the wake of the Taliban taking over Afghanistan, Tweeted out the following, before deleting it:

“The Taliban are the only people building back better.”

This from an elected official in America. Seriously, Colorado, this s the rabid traitor you elected?

Down in Florida, the Hillsborough County School Board will hold an Emergency School Board Meeting to discuss the best way to mitigate against the spread of the Delta Variant.

Too late, I think, since some 5,599 students and 316 employees in the district are now in isolation or quarantine.

DeathSantis is murdering Florida’s children and no one seems to care.

The Illinois Second District Appellate Court has ruled Hobby Lobby Stores Inc. violated state anti-bias laws by denying a transgender woman employee access to the women’s bathroom:

“[Meggan] Sommerville is female, just like the women who are permitted to use the women’s bathroom. The only reason that Sommerville is barred from using the women’s bathroom is that she is a transgender woman, unlike the other women [at least, as far as Hobby Lobby knows.]”

The ruling upheld a $220,000 judgment for emotional distress and attorneys’ fees against the company.

Good.

Dusty Lachowicz is Grade A beef. A model and fitness trainer from Wisconsin who is based in New York, Dusty has worked with Ralph Lauren and Calvin Klein, and recently signed with Ford Models.

The face, the smile, the hair, the hairy chest … oy. And then there’s the love of the underwear shoot and skinny dipping and teasing us with an ass that is as real as it is spectacular.

Plus, you’ll note that Dusty, who just turned twenty-seven … what a baby …  not only loves the great outdoors, building a shelter of twigs, and spear fishing, but he’s equally at home at the sewing machine.

He works hard, he plays hard, he gets me … that's all

It's My Birthday!

The Earth has once again traveled around the Sun which means, gulp, that I am now another year older … and another year more fabulous I like to think. How old am I? Somewhere between forty, and death. That’s all you get. And so, because I don’t need much, nor do I want for much, I thought I’d share some of the things I like best about the Life of Bob as it stands today.

Our house; no, we didn’t get any snowfall this year, but this picture of the house in the trees with the snow is one of my favorites so it’s the one you get.

The kids …clockwise: The Great Tuxedo™-—I call him that because it drives Carlos crazy; Consuelo, giving me fierce innocence; Ozzo, with his ever-graying beard; and MaxGoldberg, of the Boca Raton Goldbergs.

And here we have “buddies”—or as Carlos calls them, “homosexuals”—Max and Tuxedo during a morning nap.

Two of my favorite things in the house are the Twisted Kitty sculpture I bought eons ago in San Francisco; as soon as I saw it I bought it, and the owner of the store knew the guy who made it, so he called him, and the sculptor came down to thank e. He said he’d been trying to sell it for a year, and no one bought, so he told the shop owner, “One day someone will come in who sees it and grabs it right away.” And that person was me. The clock next to Kitty is my parent’s Anniversary Clock that they received on their Wedding Day; after my Mom passed, Dad sent it to me, so it sits on the mantel, too.

Books. Do we have books. This is the bookshelf in the office, overflowing with books. My next purchase is new, stronger, larger bookshelves. And because it’s not eb=ugh, we have books throughout the house, on the Chinese cabinet in the living room …

… under glass of the coffee table ….

On dressers and nightstands. And here’s the latest addition, that Carlos gave me this morning. I cannot wait to read it because y’all know I loves me some Pete.

Lastly … the homemade Birthday Cake from the Kitchen of Carlos. As I’ve said before, he’s a MasterBaker and would MasterBake all day long if he could. I tried to snap a picture of him this morning, because he’s my all-time favorite thing, but he’s sly about ducking the camera, and shy about being a blog-lebrity.

And there you have it, happiness and birthdays. If y’all forgot to get me something, check back later today for a gift suggestion.

Just sayin’.