So all we got here from Hurricane Ike was a slight breeze and a bill for a rented generator that sat in our garage for five days.
We’ve tried to pass the generator on to some friends in Houston, but apparently they are all tougher than me because they’re willing to live without air-conditioning for more than three minutes.
I still remember a night from my childhood when the air-conditioning went out in our house. It was one of the worst days of my life and that’s including the day I found out they were taking “Joanie Loves Chachi” off the air.
And speaking of Hurricane Ike, remember this picture from last week?
At the time I thought Cousin Eddie had evacuated from an RV park in Houston.
But I was wrong.
Apparently, the lady who lives next door found that RV for sale on the internet and bought it. Then, she found a man from Canada on the internet who said he would deliver it.
Oh, the wonder of the internet.
What a blessing that our children will never have to experience a world where you can’t purchase a hideous recreational vehicle online and have it delivered by someone who may or may not be a serial killer.
The neighbor told us all about her online RV purchase and asked if we could believe she only paid $2500 for it.
I’ll be honest, it didn’t tax my imagination at all.
In fact, I wouldn’t doubt that there is someone in Wisconsin bragging that he got someone to pay $2500 for his old beat up RV.
And from what we can tell, the Canadian delivery man is staying for the duration of the trailer renovation. Also, he is in dire need of a belt.
As we pulled in our driveway from church yesterday morning, P whispered to me, “Hurry! Look over by the RV!”
My corneas were seared with the sight of more booty cleavage than any one person should ever be allowed to expose.
So, it looks like the tenement on wheels is here to stay for a while.
But we won’t go falling in love with it because, hopefully, they’ll be parking it ANYWHERE ELSE but in their driveway in the near future.
Of course who am I to judge someone’s RV purchase?
P and I actually watched “Rocky Balboa” on Saturday night.
I’d like to say it was because there wasn’t anything else on, but that’s not true. In fact, both of were too tired to stay up for the last hour of it so we RECORDED it so we could finish watching it last night.
I am so embarrassed.
Here’s where I need to go ahead and admit that I’ve always been a Rocky fan. (Well, except for Rocky V because even I have my limits.) I realize the likelihood of going to the USSR and singlehandedly overcoming Communism by knocking out a Russian boxer is a farfetched plot line, but I totally bought the whole thing.
I even owned (own) the soundtrack.
So when I saw “Rocky Balboa” was on as we flipped through the channels, I laughed a superior laugh that said, “I am too sophisticated for this” and then it totally sucked me in because, OH MY WORD, Adrian dies, and Paulie gets fired from the meat plant and they take down the statue of Rocky, and they say lines like, “Let’s start building some hurting bombs” in regard to Rocky’s punching ability, and all the while they’re playing “Gonna Fly Now” in the background.
Who is strong enough to resist that?
Not me, my friends.
I was even nervous during the final fight scene. Like Rocky might actually get knocked out.
Anyway, I won’t ruin the ending for those of y’all who are dying to see it, but I will tell you there is a point in the final fight scene where the twenty-three year old heavyweight champion of the world hurts his hand during the fight because he punches Rocky’s hip.
Which, yeah he did. Rocky’s like eighty years old. You just know that hip is some type of titanium implant.