Inept legislature, magazine selling goomers, aquatic architects, explosive poop, and Francesca...TGIF!

Finally, Friday! What a week this has been here at The Compound. There have been a couple of meetings with hydrologists and aquatic architects to determine the feasibility of establishing a permanent spring-fed Lake Mountebank here. Is it feasible? Not really. Will that stop me? Not likely.

Normally, I would have thrust Cousin Fred into the limelight of those meetings so I could focus on really important stuff like determining how to zero the sights on…well, anyway. Cousin Fred has been far too wrapped up in getting his new web site
www.lovesick-leftovers.com
up and running.

By the way, for those of you who don’t access this blog via Facebook and have been complaining that the link to the site didn’t work and that the text spacing looked weird on Wednesday, I have the dummies at my blog host to blame. Every damn time they try to tweak their platform and service offerings, it pushes everything off the rails.

Then there have been raids on The Compound this week by school-age children from all over trying to sell us something…clothing, magazine subscriptions, fruitcakes, Christmas wreaths (in August!), and even pet grooming supplies.

They’re all trying to raise money for various school functions since the do-nothing buffoons aligned with the wholly inept, freakishly misguided, and undoubtedly corrupt Oklahoma State Legislature have seen fit to end public education as we know it (one man’s opinion).

After all, a woefully undereducated constituent is more likely to ensure their continued incumbency without asking tough questions.

But, I digress…

Normally, The Wife would deal with the little goomers coming to the door, but she’s off on another of her fabulous vacations for the next 10 days. So, again, it’s left to me.

I have no idea how they’re finding this place. They have to send first responders out with lunches and extra batteries for their flashlights if they’re coming here.

It’s gotten so bad, I’ve closed the gates to The Compound. To get in now, you’ll need the secret handshake. Email me and I’ll give it to you.

Actually, Cousin Fred has had some success with his web site. That seems to be lifting his spirits, which is a great thing. There’s nothing more depressing than a depressed Cousin Fred. He’s been chatting online with a woman named Francesca and believes she may soon come here for a visit.

This should be interesting.

But, hey, I have more important things to delve into, like, why poop in Russia is exploding. I had gotten word on this from my sole source for news (since DISH has taken KFOR hostage) – the Huffington Post. The site is running a piece (of sh*t) right now with video showing a septic pumping truck exploding in the middle of traffic and a buried sewer line running along a highway exploding and causing a wreck.

The link to see the videos is here (assuming the dumbass blog hosts don’t d*ck with things again). 

Both of these events were captured for our viewing pleasure with one of those dashboard cameras that Russians seem so fond of installing in their vehicles. I have to get one.

We must ask ourselves what those pesky Russians are up to that their poop is exploding. Is this some manner of weird Putin (hahaha, pun intended) exercise in advanced weapons development? A sh*t bomb? A crapper cruise missile?

Actually, the Russians are probably asking themselves why their poop is so darned explosive lately. Bet it has something to do with GMOs gone wrong. Or perhaps it’s simply that there is a strong temperance movement underway in Mother Russia and everyone is flushing their remaining stores of Vodka down the crapper.

Be assured faithful readers that I’m on it! I am, this morning, forming the CCB Committee to Report on Atomic Crap (CRAP). I’m summoning members of the Pathetic Order of the Jackrabbit (Original Charter) (POJOC) to serve as committee members.

They were the only people I could get on short notice. Everyone else is out selling crap (hahaha) to raise money for schools. We expect to release a report as soon as we stop watching the exploding sewer line covering that car.

Have a great weekend and watch out for sewage trucks and magazine selling goomers.

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