Guns suck!

Hi. It’s me again.

I’m fighting with someone on Facebook.  And it’s the weirdest argument ever.  He wrote something I didn’t like about gun control.  So I responded.

Him:  Timothy McVey did worse with fertilizer and a truck… This is a terrible shame, but guns aren’t the issue.

Me:  And as long as we have people like Paul saying guns aren’t the issue then NOTHING is going to change. GUNS are the issue. They have always been the issue. Will always be the issue. Timothy McVeigh didn’t come close to killing the numbers of people that guns have killed. It’s this ridiculous idea that people will always be violent. Yes they will but have you tried to buy a large quantity of fertilizer since the OKC bombing. They regulated it. No one wants to take away guns but my god is it so bad to regulate them. Is it so bad to actually do a background check. I go through more of a hassle to buy alcohol than most people do to buy a gun. Seriously. Stop saying guns aren’t the problem! It’s an insult to EVERYONE who’s been killed by a gun which numbers about 10,000 people this year in the US.

I countered him, made my point.  This is his reply:

Him:  Jeff, I’d love to debate this, but I’d ask you to keep it topical, factual and respectful.

I’m confused.  What’s not topical?  What’s not factual?  What’s not respectful?  Seriously.  Can someone help me here?

These are the responses:

Her: HE DID

Him:  I feel he attacks the general principle without substantiating his position, then uses a mild ad hominem attack instead of fact. But you disagree with me, so I know what I say won’t really matter to you Bonnie

Me:  Seriously? The general principle is that guns kill people. This is the best argument I’ve had used against me EVER. You don’t like what I say so you say I’m off topic, not factual nor respectful. Here’s a news story this year about gun deaths. You are absolutely right. I was not factual. There are NOT 10,000 deaths a year by guns. The actual number of deaths is more than 30,000. My apologies. I stand corrected.

He responds:

Him:  My first question Jeff, what do you think the process is to legally purchase a gun? What specific level of regulation are you calling for and what specifically do you find flawed in the current system?
Also, your comparison of McVey vs every crime committed by every other criminal using a gun isn’t a logical comparison.

Me:  You are the one who brought up McVeigh. Not me. Seriously dude. Seriously.

Him:  Jeff, you’re very condescending. You compared the act of one man to every other person in America. That’s an illogical comparison.

My point in bringing up McVey was to illustrate that bad people don’t need guns to commit atrocities. Society needs to stop blaming itself for crimes and start holding individuals accountable. Bad people will do bad things. Anti-gun legislation is a knee jerk by people who feel bad and have a loss of a sense of control. They want to recapture that feeling of control by changing something… but it won’t work.

Maybe this discussion would be better in person, but since starting to talk about this, you’ve been inflammatory and demeaning in your tone, so I’m going to take my leave. You’ve failed to change my mind towards your position because your arguments are weak and mostly based on emotion and personal attack.

My final respons:

ME:  LOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOL. Seriously dude. You might try holding a conversation with someone other than a first grader. You are absolutely right. People don’t need guns to kill people. But NO ONE has died at the hands of fertilizer since OKC. 30,000 people die each year from guns and we don’t do anything because well bad people will always do bad things. These are right wing talking points and don’t hold a lot of water. When the kid you are holding in your photos becomes the victim of gun violence you might start talking like the father of the reporter killed in Virginia this week. Know this though, if you do own guns and you have them in your house, your daughter runs a VERY high risk of being the victim of gun violence. I’m not making this up. Do the research.

Why can’t we do something about guns.  Yes.  People who REALLY, REALLY, REALLY want to kill someone will find a way.  But those people who are angry in the moment won’t have access and will cool down and will be thankful that they didn’t have a way to do what they wanted to do. In the meantime 30,000 people a year are killed in the U.S. and we are supposed to ignore it, or pretend that a little mental healthcare will fix it, or that your right to own a gun trumps my right to be a live.  IT FUCKING PISSES ME OFF.

Our house is a very nice house!

Here are photos of our new house!

This is a view of the “music” room.  Which is at the opposite end of the kitchen.  The shelf along the wall holds our bourbon collection and the rest of our liquor.

Another view of the same room.

The fireplace on the kitchen side.  That’s Nancy Louise hanging above the mantle.  We don’t know if she’s going to stay there or not.

A view of the kitchen from the piano.

A closer view of the kitchen.

The living room standing in the dining room. We have a huge bay window that looks into the front yard.  The cats love this window.

Another view of the living room.  The fireplace is a see through it opens to both the music room AND the living room although it’s now shown well.

Our wall of bookshelf.  We drilled through the back of the shelves to install lamps on the shelves.  It helps brighten up and give life to that end of the living room.

A view of the living room and the dining room beyond.

A view of the dining room from the living room.  The built ins are awesome.  We never use the lights above the cases but it’s fun that they are there.  The cabinets hold ALL of our hosting tools.  This is much easier than the attic where a lot of this lived before.

 A view without the lights on, with the chandelier.

Guess WHO!

WOW.  Where the fuck did August go?  It’s already 90% gone and it just started.  And I’ve only posted one time.  My life sucks.

Let’s see.

I’ve unfriended a few people on Facebook.  I just can’t handle the drama.  I’m tired of convincing people that I’m right.  Anyone who is friends with me already knows I’m ALWAYS right.  Except for Adam.  His right trumps my right which I’ve known since our first date.  I even unfriended an ex-family member who I just couldn’t take posting Confederate Flag bullshit.  It reached it’s unforgivable peak when he posted anti-welfare bullshit and if it weren’t for welfare his kids would be living under an over pass on I-75 in Kentucky.

Work is good.  For the most part.  I was made GM or the hotel back in January and that’s that part of my job I hate.  I hate it, I hate it, I hate it.  I love the restaurant part.  I love it, I love it, I love it.  I just don’t get the hotel part and I don’t know if I ever will.  I’d ask to be demoted but it would be a 10,000 dollar decrease in pay so there is that.

Our house is coming along.  Check back tomorrow for our first real photos.  It’s come a long way since we first moved in.

Things with Adam are same ‘ole, same ‘ole.  We are stressed about money.  Our taxes are due on our house in six weeks and we have about 20% of it.  I’m sure we’ll have it but it’s VERY stressful.

The guy who did our kitchen work turned out to be bad at his job.  He managed to get a fair amount of work done, but it took forever and it’s shoddy at best.  We are arguing with him about how much we are actually going to pay.

Our friends Michelle and Lisa are getting married soon.  We are planning Michelle’s bachelor party.  It’s been stressful to say the least because we have grandiose plans on a shoe string budget.

Our cats are continuing to pee on things.  Last week it was my laundry basket.  Now ever day I come home and check to see if my dirty laundry is wet.

We need to week our yard.  I “hired” someone to do it.  He came once and never came back.  I’m not expecting him to ever return all though one could hold out hope.

I think that’s it.

See everyone tomorrow with photos of the house.

A question for my readers?

WOW.

It’s August 8, 2015.  We have 15 months till the presidential election.  I think I might have a heart attack before then.  The last one was painful.  I have a mixed bag of friends on Facebook and some of the ridiculous stuff they posted about Obama made my head spin.  By the end of the election I’d lost about 30 friends.  I didn’t mind.  Good riddance.

I don’t think I can do it again.  I’m passionate about my beliefs.  I’m passionate about equality.  I’m passionate about healthcare.  I’m passionate about most liberal issues.  It makes my head hurt when I see bullshit posted about god, and abortion, and gay rights, and healthcare, and social services, and other issues that NOT one of the people running for election have to deal with.

So when I see this crap on Facebook, I go into over drive and bite back.  I’m told I’m not tolerant and I’m insensitive.  The truth is I don’t care.  I don’t care what you think about me.  I don’t care.  I don’t care what you think of me.  I don’t care that you are offended.

Here’s the scary part.  About two years ago whenever I sat down at my computer to actually write something back to someone, I experience a little blib.  It’s like my heart stops beating, and my head swims for about a 16th of a second and my eyes blink.  Then it’s over and I go on.  It’s a little scary and it’s the only time in my life that this happens.  Never at work.  Never when I’m arguing with Adam.  Never when I’m drinking.  Never when I’m upset about something else.  Only when I sit down to argue on Facebook.

So I’m seriously thinking about doing one of two things.

1.  Just unfriending ALL of my conservative friends.  If you believe bullshit like the fags are going to be the downfall of America or that the illegals are coming her to rape our women, or that there’s rampant welfare abuse so everyone should pee in a cup or that healthcare is a privilege not a right or that the rights of voters need to be limited or women shouldn’t have the right to make decisions about their own bodies then I really don’t want to hear from you.

OR.

2.  I log off Facebook in about three weeks and I don’t log back on until the second week of November 2016.

Those are my choices.

Your thoughts?

It’s me.

So I’ve had about fifteen posts I’ve wanted to make in the past two weeks but every time I come home and want to blog Adam has me do something for the house or like last Monday night, help him bake 200 cupcakes.  This is actually me just blaming him which is easy to do when he’s not here.

So how am I?

Sleepy.  But great.

I’m sleepy because I stayed up till 2:00 a.m. last night when I had to open for breakfast this morning.  I had to be at work at 7:00.  I got there at 7:45.  Not too bad.  It takes me an hour to get to work from the moment I get up.  I set my alarm for 6:00 a.m.  And then again at 6:05.  And then again at 6:10.  And then again at 6:15.  And again at 6:20.  And again at 6:25.  I finally changed the alarm to 6:45 and went back to sleep.  I didn’t really sleep, it’s truly psychological but it seemed to help.  I finally got up at 6:45, showered and headed to work.  I’m exhausted now and should have just gone to bed but I want to stay up until Adam is home.

New on the house front:  Adam and I finally bought the parts to our bourbon shelf.  We used most of the parts from the last one but the size is different which threw some things off.  We started working on it over the weekend and he finished it today.  Here it is:

He discovered after he finished it up today that he’d wired all the wiring backwards for the lighting.  He fixed most of it, but it was very annoying to him.  I’m glad I wasn’t home to witness it.  Once it’s covered in bourbon I’ll post another photo of it.

I’ll wrap it up there.  I have lots of things to say and will try and post more this week.

It’s not racist. It’s heritage.

I really want to like my family.  I love them I do.  But I don’t like them.  I want.  I just can’t.  I don’t think I ever will.  If the truth was known I probably don’t like any of them.  Not my mom.  Not my Aunt Doo.  Not by brother.  Not any of them.

The reason:

Well here’s a perfectly good example.  With the onset of the controversy over the Confederate Flag my Aunt Debbie has taken to posting things like this:

She prefaces all of this with “this isn’t racist, it’s just a southern thing.”

And I’m supposed to believe it.  This is a woman who was fired from her job of ten years for making racist comments against a co-worker.  This is a woman who would rather be poor than vote for Obama.  (She is poor.  She supports her grand kids through welfare and public assistance.)  I’ve said for years that my family would rather me come home with a white boy than a black girl.  And I’m supposed to believe it’s not meant exactly as it appears.

And it frustrates me.  Because I call her on it.  I tell her it’s racist.  I tell it’s bullshit.  She never owns it.  So this is what I wrote tonight in response to the above meme:

Because you are a racist. I’ll tell you the same thing I tell Ronnie. I don’t care if you are racist. But stop the bullshitting and just admit it. I’d respect you so much more if you did. Instead you hide behind this “it’s a southern thing” which is white speak for racist. EVERYONE knows it. You know it. I know it. So stop pretending and just admit it.

I no longer care if I piss her off.  I no longer care what she thinks.  This idea that you can post racist bullshit and pretend it’s “heritage” has to stop.  It is what it is.  Just admit it.

There.

Me. Again. For a moment.

Adam likes it when I blog.  Which surprises me a little bit.  I’d think he wouldn’t like our laundry aired.  So I really, really, really am going to try and start being more frequent with my posts.

I’m sitting in my office, which is one of our three bedrooms.  He’s in the kitchen making a cake.  It’s very peaceful back here.  I can hear the TV, I can hear him working, occasionally he’ll ask me a question or say something.  It’s very nice.  I like our house.  I like our life.  I like Adam!

So tonight I took photos of our house for my mom so I thought I’d share them.  Here you go.  

This is the front of our house in the summer.  The hydrangea has just started blooming.  

Another shot down by the garage.  Our lawn is landscaped within and inch of it’s life.

We have a LOT.  LET ME REPEAT A LOT of day lilies.  The previous owner was a horticulturist and bred them and cultivated them.  You can’t see it in the photo but there are labels like in a botanical garden that shows their name.  They are all named after Democratic politicians.   There are a lot in the back yard as well.  

This is the back yard.  We have double patio doors that we want to replace with french doors.  Where the window is all the way to the right we’d also like to add a french door.  It’s the Master Bedroom.  The area with the weird ground cover like space is where a dog run used to be.  We took out the fence and are letting the grass grow back.

This is the piano room.  It’s off to the right through the window.

Look!  More day lilies.

This is our new kitchen with it’s new subway tile backsplash.  It will be completely done in another couple of weeks.

The stove with it’s new vent hood. It just needs the outside put on.

Our refrigerator.  I’ve never had an ice maker in my life.

My favorite part of the kitchen.  It’s pretty.

The living room in the back ground.

And Judy in the living room window!

How can you not love a face like that?

Fuckers!

It’s so great that my office doesn’t smell like pee.  I actually have enjoyed being in here for the past hour.

So.

I don’t consider myself patient.  Adam will tell you differently but I think the only person in the world I’m actually patient with is him.

So.

Tonight.

I didn’t leave work tonight till almost 8:45.  It was a long day that started by my oversleeping and getting to work late.  I spent the day putting out fires in the hotel I manage and I mean ugly situations.  We fucked up four different times today with people’s reservations.  We had to move people around, and one couple was actually bumped out of our hotel and put in a hotel across the street from us.  Whoops.  It all ended with everyone happy but it was a stressful afternoon.

I then had an hour long meeting with a person (and her assistant) that is forcing us to do a party for 25 of her friends.  And I mean forcing, I told her no the first two times she called, so she called our less than nice owner and he called and told me I was doing it.  It’s on a Friday in July and it’s going to be a royal pain in my ass but we are certainly doing it.  The chef/owner who was present at the meeting today for the first time ever I saw him visibly agitated with a guest.  This woman was smug and entitled and full of it, asking for the world.  He finally just said no which he NEVER does.  I was proud of him.

Then to top it off the restaurant was slammed tonight.  The numbers we did tonight, a Thursday we were doing on Saturdays last August.  It was crazy.  Needless to say I barely got any of the work I needed to get done today before I left.

So.

I’m starving.  I work at a restaurant but I forgot to order food today and it was too busy to get something before I left.  So I decide to stop at Chipotle.  I pull into the drive and the place is a mob scene.  The line is out the door.  I don’t have the energy to wait in line so I decide to drive to the other one in town.  It’s out of the way but better than standing in line.

I get there and there are four people in line.  Two boys, each hotter than the next.  And a woman with her daughter.  I’m standing there gazing at the boys and BAM some kid pushes me out of the way and the next thing I know the woman is joined by her two sons.  AND THEN.  She’s joined by her husband and another kid.  So what was four people in front of me is now 8.

FUCK THAT SHIT.  I bite my tongue.  It’s not that they were in front of me, it’s the way they went about it and the entitled bullshit aura they were giving off.  I continue to bite my tongue.  And then it became apparent that they had never been to a Chipotle before.  They asked stupid questions, they couldn’t make up their minds.  It ended up taking about fifteen minutes to get their food prepared.

Well actually it took a little longer.

BECAUSE.

When the father of the group got to the counter the kid making burritos decided that would be a good time to make the burritos for the call in order they had.  So it was actually close to 20 minutes before they made their way to the table and I got to make my burrito.

FUCK!

I wanted to punch them all in their ugly, fat faces!

FUCKERS!

That was close to two hours ago and I’m still fuming about it.

 

Cat Pee Re-visited!

WOW.  It’s July 1st.  How the hell did that happen?

I’ve been missing in action lately but I’m hoping to be better.  Part of the problem has been that my office, where my computer is smelled like cat pee to no end.  Seriously.  It was disgusting.

Until today!

We finally discovered the source of the smell.

And how did we discover this?

Well, I’m glad you asked.

Adam had been told by several friends to get Nature’s Miracle.  Supposedly it works wonders and is great at getting rid of the odor of pet urine.  We bought some on Monday.  Today we make plans to move the furniture in the guest room and do the floors in the hopes that it would work.

I went in to prep the room and what did I disover?  Cat poop in the middle of the unmade guest bed.  YUCK!  So I investigated.  Turns out the mattress was soaded in cat pee.  Disgusting.  You’d think we’d have noticed it was wet but we did not.  We immediately moved the mattress to the garage and then I had a friend come help me take it to the recycling center.  And we covered the box spring in plastic.

And just like that the smell of cat pee in our house is gone.

Now.

We have to figure out how to keep them from doing it again.

We are kind of glad that’s all it is.  We were prepping ourselves to spend thousands of dollars to have the floors redone.  Now we just have to buy a mattress.  We are actually going to replace ours and put ours in the guest room.  The big question now is whether to stay with a queen or upgrade to a king?

Hopefully with the smell gone I won’t mind being in my office and will be more anxious to blog again.

That’s my hope anyway!

Cat Pee!

So the house.

When we bought the house the woman who lived here before us was a pig.  A hoarder.  And the house was disgusting.

It took us a week to get her stuff in a pile in the garage.  The previous owner paid to have the house professionally cleaned, the floors buffed and re-polyurethaned because the whole house smelled like cat pee.  The woman who lived here had three dogs (at one time seven) and one cat and let them pee and poop anywhere they wanted.  The first few days we were here it was disgusting the smell was so bad.

After the cleaning all was better.  The smell seemed to have gone away, their cleaning person and our cleaning person made the place sparkle.

Life was good.

Until about two days ago.

The smell of cat pee has returned.  And it’s old cat pee, not new cat pee so we are pretty sure it’s not our cats.  And it’s intense.  So now we are worried that we are going to be the proud owner of a house that smells like cat pee.

Adam said today that he’d done research and had a plan.  I hope its true because the back of the house where the bedrooms are reeks.  I have all the windows open and it still smells badly.

That’s it for tonight.  I’ll keep you posted!