The frikkin' basement is flooding like a mofo. As far as I can tell, water is coming in at four different spots, including an inner wall (explain that one, please). There's water everywhere. My big 8x5 rug in my office was so soaked that I nearly sprained my back moving it to the basement sink, where it may or may not dry out before August, and will probably never smell the same again. I sucked up about 20 gallons with the floor cleaner we bought when we moved in. It holds about a half-gallon at a time. Once I got the whole place reasonably dried out, we had dinner and I checked it again. Water was beginning to come in to various spots, but it wasn't raining very hard anymore, so I just put down some towels. This morning, all the floods are back in full force. The towels are soaked, and the DamnDirtyServer[tm] is dangerously close to just floating away on its new wooden raft (courtesy of a set of Ikea shelves that bizetsy gave us).
Man, those Ikea shelves are coming in handy. They have now been used to make a puppy kennel, a puppy barrier, pallets for my boxes in the old house, and a platform for my server. Oh, and sometimes we've used them as shelves.
Switching gears now, here's something stupid: Back in late June or early July, Susie and I get in the truck at the old house to go somewhere (look at houses, I believe). I look behind me, put the truck in reverse, and start moving. Immediately, there's a thunk and we stop. I get out and find that a VW Jetta has backed into us. There's a tiny dent in my bumper, and the rear of his car is jacked. He starts giving me shit about how he was stopped and I just rammed right into him. Uh huh. Look around, pal. You're in MY FUCKING DRIVEWAY. Idiot. So anyway, I give him my insurance info and send him on my way, figuring that his insurance company will just tell him what a nimrod he is and be done with it. Just to be sure, I call my insurance company and tell them what happened and they assure me that the guy's a nimrod.
Cut to yesterday. I get the mail and there's a letter in there from Nimrod's insurance company. They say they've been trying to get a hold of me. The date of the accident listed on the letter is 8/15, which would have been impossible, because I was inebriated with vespaden (who also happens to be my attorney) that day as it was the first day of Monkey Run. Also, I hadn't lived at that house for over a week by that date.
I'm almost looking forward to talking with these people. "No. I didn't live there then. There's no possible way we could have collided in that driveway that day. Yes, we did collide. Yes, it was MY OWN DRIVEWAY that he was using to turn around in. No, I'm not giving you money. Now be gone."
In other exciting news, there was snow on the ground at the Irresponsible Manor this morning. Here's a picture of Rudy turning it yellow*:
*Note: if this picture is not viewable, that probably means that the water in the basement has reached my computer.
So there you go. Good times.
By the way, don't forget I'm DJing next Friday at Kincora!