Thanks so much to all the very special-verrryyyy special-guest bloggers that have been standing proudly on the Smiling Infidel poop deck the past few days and navigating her through the choppiest of blog waters.
We are now on Day #5 with no sign of restored electricity in sight. Like Noah releasing a dove from the ark to seek out dry land, we keep tossing our sneakers that have been tied together up in the air, praying for it to find an intact power line to string themselves up on. So far, no good.
Out of sheer boredom, Papi and I are now gold star members in the Hurricane Club. It's kind of like the Mile High Club, except you get blown (around) more and leave behind a lot of damage and debris.
So, here's the post I was slaving away on last Friday moments before we lost power courtesy of Hurricane Ike:
It's nearly 11:00 at night. We're just a few hours away from the much ballyhooed arrival of Hurricane Ike.
The tempestuous gusts of tropical storm wind has really begun to increase as evidenced by the swaying of the pine trees surrounding us..........and the special brand of Houston "Trash Tumbleweeds" blowing down the now-empty residential street where the Infidel family resides.
So did you bring back that permission slip that I gave you? You're going to need it because I'm taking you on a picture-filled field trip into the heart of our Hurricane Ike Preparation Day. Hurry up, go forge your mom or dad's signature.
Come on, you know this isn't the first time you've ever done such a thing.
Observe our special assembly of The Rainbow Flashlight Coalition. We're a very diverse family that doesn't discriminate against flashlights regardless of color, size, or shape.
CRANK THIS, Souljah Boy! Thanks to my years spent honing my hand-cranking skills on the Championship Homemade Ice Cream circuit, cranking up out little Freeplay radio is a gripping but simple task.
It's Wednesday now. I'm not giving you an updated picture of my pantry because it's starting to look sad. Below is how it looked last Friday.
We've been eating our meals straight out of cans just so we don't have to wash out bowls and plates. We're sinking lower and lower down the scales of civilized society. I think we're now just one step away from eschewing the life of finger bowls and salad forks forever. However will we get invited to a Posh Spice Dinner Banquet now, I ask you??!!??
My water bill has erroneously read $700.00 for the month. I say erroneously. The water company says "NOT erroneously. Pay up." At least our bottled water only set me back around 15 bucks.
The oldest Infidel son, Buster, will henceforth be referred to as "The Little Water Drummer Boy."
Buster made sure our water drums were cleaned, filled, and ready to go. I'm hoping that our Homeowner's Association narc that keeps harassing us about weeds in the cracks of our driveway stops by so we can play a little dunking game with him using our large-enough-to-hide-a-man's-body water drums. Wouldn't that be so much fun??!?
The mighty Infidel truck found secure housing in our garage for the first time ever.
The Infidel spawn call it a "GAY-RAJ."
I sincerely hope that we never actually meet a gay guy named Raj because that might be a bit awkward.
*Special Thanks to our neighbor who has allowed us to run a line to his generator today. He thinks I'm using it to vacuum and cook. Right. I have priorities, people!*