Inactivity alert

Going to be in Grand Rapids all day, eating tasty food and hobnobbing (yes!  I am a skilled hobnobber!) with the wife’s side of the family.  I may throw up a post when I get home, especially if something entertaining happens, but it may be a slow day around here.

Happy Easter, if you’re into that sort of thing.

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Terrible Decisions: Chapter You Go To Hell and You Die

Let’s not discuss how long it took to simultaneously obtain the time and the will to finish the cement boarding.  Let’s also not discuss the extra hole next to the hole for the shower pipe (which is also new as of today) because thirteen and a half inches and fifteen and a half inches are not the same thing. Hell with it; there’s a board behind it and I’ll fill the fucker with mortar.  It’ll be fine.  And if it won’t, don’t tell me.

photoNext step, mortaring and taping all the seams.  Then RedGard, which… well, that’ll be fun, for certain values of “fun.”

On the plus side, I managed to pull this all off without buying a new piece of cement board, which I didn’t think was gonna be possible.

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In which I am Not an Asshole: a brief true story

UnknownThe wife and I just got back from a brief shopping trip that included a stop at Barnes and Noble.  This is an educator discount week (25% off of everything) so it was worth it to putter around a little bit.  At some point I overheard someone a few aisles away bitching vociferously about people spreading spoilers about Game of Thrones.  Bitching loudly enough, in fact, that she would have herself spoiled the events of the Purple Wedding to anyone around her had they been nearby and not wanted to know.

In a fucking bookstore.  Where the actual books were no more than fifteen to twenty feet away.

I did not start loudly shouting plot events from the next two books.

But I wanted to.

I figure someone owes me candy for bein’ civilized.

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In which I am perfect…ly lazy

Three-day weekend for both the wife and I, but the boy’s day care is open, meaning that we could drop him off and attend to any number of Things What Needed Doing around the house; I had a long mental list of same.

My activities since getting back from day care this morning:

  1. Watched an hour of Deadwood;
  2. Watched an hour of Orphan Black;
  3. Took a shower;
  4. Read about 80 pages of a book;
  5. Took a nap.

Condition:  Winning.

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I… wait, what?

I’m not good on gender/sexuality issues, okay?  I admit it.  I’m trying to get better about this stuff but half the time just keeping track of the pronouns and the prefixes and the abbreviations is so fucking exhausting that I just try and default to “leave everyone the hell alone” and try not to worry about it beyond that.

But… okay, the author of this article is being a prat, right?  A word that I very carefully chose because as far as I can tell it’s gender-neutral while still being insulting?  I want to take real problems seriously but I don’t think you get to simultaneously complain that 1) you use the ladies’ room because you feel safe in there and 2) you are constantly assaulted in the ladies’ room because you don’t look like a lady.  Those shouldn’t both be true.  And apparently this person identifies as trans, but is biologically female and not looking to transition, which is the part where my lack of knowledge screws me up because I thought “trans” meant you were biologically female but wanted to present as male (or vice versa) which… once you’ve made the decision to go out of your house looking like a man, should mean “just use the damn men’s room, nobody makes fucking eye contact in there anyway?”  Right?  I think?

(Men do not talk to each other in the men’s room.  You could be a goddamned three-legged blue-skinned space alien with an echidna dick and so long as you didn’t try and peer over the damn stall dividers ain’t nobody gonna look at you.  This is known!)

Somebody help me out here and let me know what I’m missing.

(EDIT: relevant detail:  I have been a man with long hair, long enough and curly enough that I’ve been addressed as “ma’am” by people who weren’t approaching me from the right angle to see my beard.  Never had a single second of trouble with anyone in a men’s room.  I call bullshit on the “every long-haired male” line.)

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