World War 3 and copper bathroom faucets
The mood in Nice, France, Europe is bleak with only one bathroom. Mom can't stand it when guests come over for dinner parties and go and sit on her toilet. It makes her crazy. I don't get it. I like peeing where everybody else pees. I always look for the most peed-on spot on a tree or garbage can and I hit it as high as I can. All Mom has to do is pee right after her dinner guests and the bathroom is her bathroom again. It's really simple but she doesn't get it.
Mom: "When is this bathroom going to get done? Did you ASK the guy when the faucets are coming?"
Dad: "I did! He said he has no idea, I told you before. Just relax."
Mom: "NO IDEA? What does THAT mean? A year? I love the way you're telling ME to relax. They can't start the tileing or put in the sink until we have the faucets! What's wrong with France? Why don't they make copper faucets to go with copper tubs? In the meantime, we only have one toilet. What if it breaks down?"
Mom and Dad bought a crazy giant copper bathtub that was hand-beaten in Morocco. It looks like an enormous, burned out cauldron on lion's feet and it's sitting in the middle of the entrance. I don't know what's so great about anything hand-beaten. I was hand-beaten in San Pedro before I got thrown into the pound. Dad says everything in Morocco is hand-beaten...even the wives.
There are piles of black slate all over the floor, waiting to be installed right after the bathtub. The renovation isn't going well because all French workers take off the entire month of August. That means that if the faucets don't get here really soon, the whole project is put off until later in the year.
Finley keeps going into the torn up bathroom and pooping in there. I guess she's trying to make a point.
Mom is also furious with the neighbors upstairs because they told her she can't have flowers on the balconies.
Mom: "Who the fuck does this French cow thinks she is, telling me I can't put a couple of flower pots on MY balconies?"
Dad: "I don't want to get into a law suit with them that's going to cost me thousands of Euros over a couple of flower pots. We have a huge garden in LA. But I don't like the fact that they think they can tell us what to do. That's France. There's always somebody fucking with you. They're always needling you about some bullshit."
Mom: "I'm just going to call her and tell her that my flowers are better than the alternatives: a giant American flag in every window. Or I'll buy a beat-up 400 Euro truck that I'll park right in front of the door. Fuck her. I'll put giant posters of George Bush in my balconies. The nerve of her telling me it's not pretty. What's not pretty is her fat ass in the lobby!"
I'm worried about Israel and Lebanon. The people and dogs must be really scared and I just know that there are some stuck in the rubble. People can be way dumber than dogs sometimes.
I just hope that those special antique copper faucets get here before the war is over
or Mom might send a Zilzal long range missile straight to Snyder Diamond (the bathroom remodel joint) in Los Angeles. I'm sure those missiles cost less than the stupid Moroccan bathtub did.