For the last two days, Rhode Island (and Southeastern Massachusetts) has been pelted with an unprecedented amount of rain. So much so, that the President of the United States has declared most of the state a major disaster area. We have friends and family who have had 3-5 feet of water in their basements. And let me tell you...when you see that water level in your basement rising dangerously close to your electric panels? That is scary shit, people.
Thankfully, Hubby and I have been spared a major cleanup for the most part. Sure, like most others, we had some water in our basement. And our septic system has had all it can handle---meaning that we haven't been able to wash clothes or wash dishes or take showers today. And our sump pump is and has been running like a mofo for three days straight. But, all in all, we are lucky and are feeling pretty grateful. The rain has finally stopped. The rivers will crest this afternoon. But, by tomorrow, waters should start to recede (We're looking at sunny weather for the next 6 days---whoo hoo!) and hopefully, things will get back to normal around here.
Even with all of this chaos, I---along with the brilliance that is my husband---have managed to drum up a funny story for you. Here we go...
Yesterday, in the midst of highway closings, public hysteria, and seeing shit floating down the street---Hubby and I decided that we should leave work early because the news stations were telling us how difficult our commute home would be.
We left my car at work, climbed into Hubby's pickup truck, and headed for the long drive home. As we made our way through rivers of water, I started to get nervous...what with all of the firetrucks and police cars maneuvering around trying to rescue people whose cars were stuck and smoking all over the place. To lighten the mood, I decided to enlighten my husband with this piece of news:
Me: So. Did you here about Ricky Martin?
Hubby: Um. I don't think so. What?
Me: He's gay.
Hubby: Uhhhh...Wasn't he ALWAYS gay?
Me: Yes. But, he just came out of the closet yesterday.
Hubby: Came out of the closet to whom?
Me: The world.
Hubby: Seriously? I mean...who the hell didn't know he was gay?
Me: I don't know.
Hubby: And everybody knows that his father is gay, too.
Me: They do?
Hubby: Duh! Yeah!
Me: His father? You know who his father is?
Hubby: Oh, please. The whole world knows his father. And they know he's gay.
Me: WHO THE HELL IS HIS FATHER?
Hubby: What do you mean who's his father? His father is Julio Iglesias!
I am not even fugging kidding, people. That's what he said...Julio Flippin Iglesias!
Me: JULIO IGLESIAS is not Ricky Martin's father! Where the hell
did you get that from?
Hubby: Are you sure? I always thought he was! Isn't his son a singer?
Me: His son is Enrique Iglesias! The Latin dude with the mole!
Hubby: ****pausing to reflect****
Me: AND, FYI? Julio Iglesias is not gay! He's like a hundred years old and has babies! That means he's still spreading his old ass seed among the young chicks!
Me: Yes, really.
Hubby: Wow. And all this time I thought Julio was Livin La Vida Homo. Imagine that.
Imagine that, indeed.