Wednesday, November 16, 2005

Why Drugs and Architecture Don't Mix

can we talk for a second about the assholes that designed my house? it was built in the 1970's and the drug culture was still alive and well. lots and lots of drugs and more drugs are the only explanation i can come up with for the reasoning behind some of the features in my home.

first, and most importantly, i have no light fixtures. the bathrooms and the kitchen have built in lighting and that's it. none in the bedrooms. none in the living room. none in the dining room. NONE. the people that built my house were tripping on so much acid and the imaginary colors they saw were so bright, they just figured the lighting situation was taken care of, i guess. as a result, i live a life of many, many lamps. many lamps.

and you have to walk deep into a room to get to the lamp, so i spend a lot of time stumbling around in the dark, stubbing my toes and swearing like a sailor.

i have only lived in this house for 4 years, which means for the last 30 years before that, none of the other owners ever thought to add in a light fixture. jesus h christ, why must i do everything? someone please pass me a quualude.

then there's the trees. the fucking trees. i hate my trees. hate them.

see, we have about 12 fruit trees. and before you get all excited and think, "oh wow! fruit trees! that's GREAT! fresh sqeezed orange juice in the mornings. fresh lemons for homemade lemonade. YUM!" you have to realize that none of my fruit trees bear fruit that i would ever eat.

let's start with the guava tree. do you have idea how badly a guava tree smells? DO? YOU? and lucky, lucky me, that tree is right outside my bedroom window. rock on.

then we have a few crab apple trees. who the hell eats crab apples? god almighty, no one needs 4592 crab apples every year. most useless little fucking fruits on the planet. even the squirrels won't eat them.

and let's not forget the 3 or 4 chinese grapefruit trees. yes, you read that correctly, chinese grapefruit. no one has even heard of this, let alone eaten it. the fruit is HUGE, like the size of my head huge. and each fruit weighs about 5 pounds. it is mostly rind and once you cut that away, you are rewarded with a fist sized hunk of really dry grapefruit. no, none for me, thanks.

the fig tree is appreciated by one person in my life, though. my granny LOVES my fig tree and she will go outside and just stand there eating those things as fast as she can pick them. she even inventories my tree. one time she came over and asked where "that really big fig" was. i was like, "what the fuck are you talking about? how the hell do i know? i don't eat those nasty ass things and i sure as hell don't keep track of them!" (well, i did say that, but without all the swearing and all the attitude. because she WILL hit me, ya know)

it seems a week earlier she had spotted a fig that was not quite ripe, but she knew it would be in a few days. so, she came looking for it and it was GONE! Detective Granny McSleuth was on the case. she examined the ground around the tree and started looking at the bottom of our shoes. apparently, there was a footprint on the ground that did not belong to any of us. that's when Detective Granny McSleuth surmised that people off the street were coming into my yard and stealing her precious figs. she strongly encouraged me to get a lock for my front gate, fire safety laws be damned! then she got her own crime show entiteld CSI: RESEDA.

and last, but not least, there is the persimmon tree. i personally do not eat persimmons and neither does my mother. usually, the fruit falls to the ground and rots, or gets eaten by squirrels. fine by me. i don't care.

but someone else DOES care. and now we have a "persimmon situation" at my house.


this is the scene at my house all day, every day. Daphne is hooked on the persimmons. like she needs a 12 step program kind of hooked. seriously, as soon as i get home and let the Asassins out of their kennel, she bolts right for the tree and starts eating the persimmons that have fallen on the ground. she doesn't even stop and beg me to pet her. nope, she makes a beeline right for the tree. her personal best was 4 in one day. and that's only because i finally stopped her. it's to the point where she gorges herself on fruit and then doesn't want to eat her dry food. well, at least i iknow she'll never get scurvy.

the downside to this is that persimmons only bear fruit a few weeks a year. in a bout 2 more weeks, that tree is going to be bare and i don't know how Daphne is going to handle this. how do you explain "seasons" to a dog?

so, in order to prepare her for a persimmon-less winter, i sat her down and told her they would be gone soon, but would be back next September. she was, of course, crushed.


so if anyone knows how to get persimmons year round, please let me know. otherwise the dog might not eat again until next year. and i have grown rather fond of her.