Pat and I have busted our butts the past two days. The shack is still standing, but is a definite off-limits area for the goofies. Pat and I are more concerned with getting the house cleared out quickly so we can begin basic repairs. I took almost two dozen pics of the place on Monday, but only a few are posted on Flickr right now. The whole lot are "before" shots, and simply too depressing to share at this time. It's truly scary how the ravages of addiction can reduce one's standard of living to the remnants we've been burning the past few days.

Yes, I said burning. The fire pit's size has been expanded out of necessity. In the past two days it's consumed 5 disgusting armchairs, two mattresses, one box spring, a dresser, dozens of lameass romance novels and other assorted paperback crap, a mishmash of mildewed couch cushions and threadbare bedding, and an easy 60 lbs. of the tackiest synthetic fiber garb I've seen since the late 70's. The house cheered as each load of festering insults was removed. My mantra: Burn baby, burn!!!

There's still 3 couches, more textile horrors, and all the carpeting to be removed. Hopefully the upcoming 3-day weekend will allow us the time needed to wrap up this activity. Then there's the matter of the utility room/pantry. Not only are there clothes and trash covering 80% of the floorspace, but this is the boonies. It's par for the course that home canning is a popular sport. Even if the previous occupants weren't participants, they sure were fans. Come view fugi's Pickled Punks... [definition]

Well, Goofy #2 is up and about now (6:30 am). I'd best get some chow into this little eating machine. His appetite lately is certainly more of an immediate threat than whatever those jars once contained. ;oD

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