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Tales From the Office: It's An Episode of Breaking Bad

Fear not, my dear Kernutties, fans of Breaking Bad, Walter White is alive and well and living in Texas… posing as my boss.

But before we get to that, let’s recap what the new job has been like over the last few months:

In my first couple weeks there, I was quarantined with Roscoe the Racoon. (The update to that post is here.)

Also living in the office was a giant (pet) katydid, Cletus. In addition, one coworker, Spiderman, has over 30 pet spiders, six pet snakes, centipedes, lizards, gekkos, and probably a bunch of other stuff it’s better I not know about.

For those of you following the Spider Prostitution ring, as of a couple weeks ago the spider had not yet been pimped out for the hot weekend in Dallas, nor the trip to New Mexico. (I have no idea what the delay might be, but I’m starting to feel sorry for the little guy. He just wants some lovin’.) I will keep you posted should he get laid.

Meanwhile, I did discover the source of the Spider Prostitution Network… But wait, there’s more! Click to keep reading… Tales From the Office: It’s An Episode of Breaking Bad

Tales From the RV Park: Perpetually Plastered Goes to the Pokey

This is another episode of Tales From the RV Park, stories from the RV parks where I’ve camped. Disclaimer: These stories are fictitious, happened in nightmares, are hearsay, and/or are what others recounted to me. I am part Irish, so there is likely a good deal of exaggeration. The names have been changed to protect the not-so-innocent. There is no relation to persons living, dead, or in jail, even if you think so. In other words, don’t bother trying to sue me.

It's a shame you can't buy common sense like you can buy deodorant.

It’s a shame you can’t buy common sense like you can buy deodorant.

Perpetually Plastered (first introduced here) has done it again.

But let me back up a bit… Perpetually Plastered got his first DUI at 13. Yes, thirteen years old. He wasn’t legally old enough to drive, let alone drink. I learned this when I ran a little background check on him and came across an old newspaper article from his home town. The arresting officer was quoted as saying, ‘I think this may be some kind of record. I don’t think I’ve ever arrested someone this young for a DUI.’ The fact that a juvenile’s (PP at the time) name was printed in the article is surprising, but there it was. He got another DUI at the age of 18 in the same town. But wait, there’s more! Click to keep reading… Tales From the RV Park: Perpetually Plastered Goes to the Pokey

Tales From the RV Park: Peeing In My Yard

This is another episode of Tales From the RV Park, stories from the RV parks where I’ve camped. Disclaimer: These stories are fictitious, happened in nightmares, are hearsay, and/or are what others recounted to me. I am part Irish, so there is likely a good deal of exaggeration. The names have been changed to protect the not-so-innocent. There is no relation to persons living, dead, or in jail, even if you think so. In other words, don’t bother trying to sue me.

It's a shame you can't buy common sense like you can buy deodorant.

It’s a shame you can’t buy common sense like you can buy deodorant.

I apologize for the delays between posts. Things have been too busy (one of the reasons is detailed below). I’m also starting a new venture which, if it goes as planned, will mean more traveling for me. *happy dance* I will keep you all posted… pun intended. 

The RV park I moved in to less than two months ago has lots of well-maintained grass, a few highly desirable trees, laundry, rec room, a pool, and a river running along the edge of the park. By the looks of it, the park is lovely… from the outside.

It stayed that way for my first seven weeks there, until the owners decided to move in a large group of pipeline welders working in the area. But wait, there’s more! Click to keep reading… Tales From the RV Park: Peeing In My Yard

Pimpin Out Spiders

There is a saying, “You learn something new every day.” It has always been my hope to help educate you all in some small way, or for this blog to perhaps be the place where you learned something new that day, no matter how minor.

I make no claims on the quality of the knowledge learned on this blog. In fact, anything learned here is likely to be a useless bit of trivia.

And that brings us to today’s tidbit of wisdom: Pimpin’ Out Spiders.

I didn’t know this was a “thing” until a few days ago.

Pimpin out spiders is not about dressing up your pet spider, or decorating it’s cage/box/ride. The phrase refers to the original use of the word “pimpin” – as in turning your spider out on the streets for money. Yes folks, we’re talking about Spider Prostitution.

To answer the question that just popped in to the heads of several of you, no, I don’t think spandex and high heels are required.

Those of you paying close attention may have already deduced I learned this bit of information from my arachnophile coworker, the cute young man with a massive collection of pet spiders. I’ll call him Spiderman to protect his anonymity.

Here’s how I learned about Spider Prostitution…

Spiderman turns to another coworker and asks But wait, there’s more! Click to keep reading… Pimpin Out Spiders

Update on Tales From Tales From The RV Park, The Office, The Life of Pye

This is another episode of Tales From the RV Park, stories from the RV parks where I’ve camped. Disclaimer: These stories are fictitious, happened in nightmares, are hearsay, and/or are what others recounted to me. I am part Irish, so there is likely a good deal of exaggeration. The names have been changed to protect the not-so-innocent. There is no relation to persons living, dead, or in jail, even if you think so. In other words, don’t bother trying to sue me.

It's a shame you can't buy common sense like you can buy deodorant.

It’s a shame you can’t buy common sense like you can buy deodorant.

I forgot a few items in my last post:

The Office…

I forgot to mention Cletus, the huge five-inch katydid, was set free about a week ago. Yay!

No new insects have arrived (*knocks on wood*), but I did get to meet the arachnophile’s two Boas and one Python yesterday. Yes, I did pet them.

Any one of his 30-plus spiders freak me out a lot more than the snakes. I did request a tour, but I did not touch the spiders.

Where do I find these jobs??!

The Life of Pye…

Pye is still bonkers, bless her heart. She’s still a bit freaked out over But wait, there’s more! Click to keep reading… Updates on Tales From the RV Park, The Office, and The Life of Pye

Tales From The Life of Pye, The New Office, and The RV Park

As the title indicates, there are things going on on several fronts… some of which include a delayed display of common sense.

It's a shame you can't buy common sense like you can buy deodorant.

It’s a shame you can’t buy common sense like you can buy deodorant.

This is another episode of Tales From the RV Park, stories from the RV parks where I’ve camped. Disclaimer: These stories are fictitious, happened in nightmares, are hearsay, and/or are what others recounted to me. I am part Irish, so there is likely a good deal of exaggeration. The names have been changed to protect the not-so-innocent. There is no relation to persons living, dead, or in jail, even if you think so. In other words, don’t bother trying to sue me.

Raccoon Freedom

Much to my delight – and I’m sure his – Roscoe the Raccoon was released in to the wild a couple days ago.

He was miserable, cowering in the corner of the cage, or alternately trying to escape and pushing his cage around the room. It broke my heart to see him so unhappy. He was sweet, and didn’t bite unless you tried to pick him up or if he got scared. But he never bonded with us and it looked like he never would.

I really wanted to release him at the location where his brothers and sisters were released. The guys decided not to wait and instead released him about a mile or so away from the office in a rural area near a creek.

Tales From The RV Park

Holy Heavy Drinkers, Batman! But wait, there’s more! Click to keep reading… Tales From The Life of Pye, The New Office, and The RV Park

Tales From the New Office: It's A Zoo and I'm in Quarantine

It’s too soon for any wild tales from the new RV park, but not from the new job…

I arrive at the new job this morning, where I’m doing marketing, editing, and office administration for an oilfield services company at which I’ve worked only a couple weeks, and see this notice posted on the door:

Rabies notice on door of office this morning.

It might as well say, “Rabies inside your new office.”

It says: ATTENTION: Do not let Rozko (“Roscoe”) out of office. He must be quarantined for 10 DAYS! If he shows signs or dies, I have rabies. Open door carefully in case he is loose! (signed by the boss)

It might as well say, “Rabies inside your new office, but don’t worry about it – you can keep working.”

I thought to myself, “The guys are joking with me, this can’t be serious.” Then I noticed the office dog, a sweet black lab (“Sadie”) is also outside of the office with me. She’s rarely outside alone.

Who or what is Rozko (“Roscoe”)?

But wait, there’s more! Click to keep reading… Tales From the New Office: It’s A Zoo and I’m in Quarantine

Tales From the RV Park and Pye Needs A Pill

This is another episode of Tales From the RV Park, stories from the RV parks where I’ve camped. Disclaimer: These stories are fictitious, happened in nightmares, are hearsay, and/or are what others recounted to me. I am part Irish, so there is likely a good deal of exaggeration. The names have been changed to protect the not-so-innocent. There is no relation to persons living, dead, or in jail, even if you think so. In other words, don’t bother trying to sue me.

It's a shame you can't buy common sense like you can buy deodorant.

It’s a shame you can’t buy common sense like you can buy deodorant.

Yes, folks it’s true, I have left Cow-Chicken-Oil Town and am now at a new one. Still in Texas, this town has oil, but no cows or chickens! The new RV park is larger, has a pool, a rec room, and more people! This means new fodder for Tales.

It will take some time to find out what goes on behind the scenes here, but stay tuned. Meanwhile, I will share a brief, somewhat uninteresting, final story from the old park, and then tell you about Pye’s ride over here to the new park. But wait, there’s more! Click to keep reading… Tales From the RV Park and Pye Needs A Pill

Trip to the Suburban Ecosystem: A Vision of Sameness

Observations From the 30-Thousand-Foot View

Looking out the small window of the 737 as it flew into San Jose Airport I saw one thing: Sameness.

Miles and miles of sameness. It was as if someone took a house-shaped cookie cutter and laid out millions of identical little houses on cookie sheets made of grass, bordered by roads of concrete and asphalt. Hundreds of thousands of cars zoomed in between the green blocks of sameness.

Looking out that window, I felt surprise. Surprise I’d lived in the middle of all that sameness for so many years and never realized how “same” it looked from above. The “30-thousand-foot view”, to use an already overused term, is one of sameness. I was a small part of that sameness for so many years and never ever comprehended it; it all appears somewhat unique from street level.

The familiarity of the sameness was warm and comforting, like a favorite soft blanket. The traffic, not so much. The traffic was more like an itchy wool blanket with moth holes. The convenience of having all manner of stores and restaurants within a few miles of my location at any given time felt luxurious. But that convenience is a double-edged sword: When you don’t have to go far to get anything you need, you rarely, if ever, venture out of the sameness. All you ever experience is sameness.

A young man of about 17 But wait, there’s more! Click to keep reading… Trip to the Suburban Ecosystem: A Vision of Sameness

Tales From the RV Park: Men Overboard

This is another episode of Tales From the RV Park, stories from the RV parks where I’ve camped. Disclaimer: These stories are fictitious, happened in nightmares, are hearsay, and/or are what others recounted to me. I am part Irish, so there is likely a good deal of exaggeration. The names have been changed to protect the not-so-innocent. There is no relation to persons living, dead, or in jail, even if you think so. In other words, don’t bother trying to sue me, there’s no money for you to take.

It's a shame you can't buy common sense like you can buy deodorant.

It’s a shame you can’t buy common sense like you can buy deodorant.

Oh, my. Where to start?

This isn’t about ONE man going overboard, it’s about several individual men going overboard at different times. Only one instance includes a capsized boat. We’ll start with that one.

Man Overboard #1

To set the scene: I’m back volunteering at the park office after working at the newspaper for several months. I loved the newspaper job, but I have this thing about paychecks being good at the bank on which they’re drawn.

Call me crazy.

After having to cash out the last paycheck at a check cashing store (You know the kind of store: an excess of neon flashing lights, a slew of advertising banners covering the windows, an endless supply of interesting characters passing through the doors), I decided not to believe the ‘this check will be good at the bank this time’ line again and left.

Oddly, the boss seemed upset. I can not fathom why. I gave plenty of notice of my departure should the check not be good at the bank. The check wasn’t good at the bank – even the following Monday. But he’s upset with me? Whatever. 

And that’s why I’m back volunteering at the park as a Park Host today when a little girl runs in to the office and yells, “Someone in the lake is yelling ‘HELP! HELP!’.”

But wait, there’s more! Click to keep reading… Tales From the RV Park: Men Overboard