Hurricane Rita

Pugitta has informed me... ONCE AGAIN... that it is time for another outdoor inspection.

Mr. Fuggs stands on the placematte of "ground zero" and declairs that all is well.

Here you can see much of the carnage. Many-a-pine tree lost a needle, or two, in this disaster.

Please take note of the Pug's octahexaball. I has stayed in the corner of the back patio without moving a single inch. Also, please note the "dry" spot in the corner.

The pugs head out and review the lawn for proper inspection. I can not show you the results of their inspection, out of good taste.

After polishing off one of our cases of beer, we've discovered alternate drinkng material. Although everyone gathers 'round to stare at it we all quickly resort to more beer.

ENTER: THE WAZ -- Yesterday he ran away like a little sissy, crying and boo-hooing all the way to mama's house. What a pansy. But... he knew we'd have beer, and his mom only had a 12 pack for all the family that gathered there... so his exit from there was swift and accurate.

What a nerd.

Pugitta and Mr. Fuggs take a break from all the heavy inspection.

Shane may not be "book smart" but he sure is "magazine smart."

ENTER: FABERGE -- He's really only here for the beer and contributes to nothing else really. When we have a drinking contest, he's our anchor.

Paul and Shane play the "snapping bean" game in front of the TV. This is where you pretend to have a full bad of freshly harvested snapping beans... you pull them out of the bag one at a time, and pretend to snap them, and then pretend to put them in the green bowl. Much like their brain cells, the green bowl is empty.

The Waz watches Paul and Shane play the pretend snapping bean game. He is on the waiting list to challenge the winner.

Pugitta thinks that everyone else in this house are a bunch of 'tards.

The Waz, not willing to walk all the way from the living room to his bedroom without liquid refreshment, stops at the half-way mark to polish off a can while starting a new one for the remainder of his journey.

I present to you, the winner of the pretend snapping bean contest. (NOTE: All this time I've been eating as much of their beef jerky supplies as I can shove down my pie-hole).

As you can see from this photo, the skies are turning blue, and clearing up. It's warm outside and not an ounce of rain to be found in the air.

Faberge is pretty happy that there was not real hurricane damage.

Now Faberge is VERY happy there was not real hurricane damage.