Over at the Crazy Club

Stoupini bought his new residence.  The last people that lived in the house heated with wood.  Every inch on the inside has soot from the fireplace.  Binki has been cleaning meticulously for days.  Kadizzle decided to see if he could restore the luster of the fire place rock with hydrochloric acid.  It is some nasty stuff, but did seem to work.  Binki is going over the woodwork inch by inch with denatured alchohol.  Slowly the life of the wood is coming back.  Stroupini was enamored with all the custom woodwork and that was a big reason he bought the place.  Shiny has taken on the role of decorator. 

Shiny's poor little dog passed away about a week or two ago and Shiny paid to have an obituary put in the Gesundheit Gazette.  Kadizzle was mentioned as one of Reheeny's uncle's. 

Up the street the bumshunklers are at it once more decorating their yards with what ever they can drag in.  Now up at the Potato heads house they have a shack in the front yard.  The back yard already has a couple shacks.  Hoarders cannot resist junk.  Every piece of junk is a treasure.  Someday I am going to fix up this junk and wow then I will have painted shiny junk.  Of course it never happens and the crap accumulates.  Cars are the classic.  A good hoarder cannot resist parking a few old cars around the house.  How does junk make people feel comfortable?  Cars are such strange objects.  In every country they are worshipped.  You can put shiny wheels on them, and rig them up to make lots of noise.  The car is part of the tattoo culture.  Look at me, please look at me, I have a shiny car, and you can read my mind on my arm.  People seem obsessed with the idea of proving they are unique.  I have a nail in my nose, maybe you will remember me.  I drive the obnoxious car that wakes you up at night, do you realize I exist?  To some degree everyone wants the world to acknowledge them, but there sure are some strange ways people go about it.