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Rated R, for Redundant

So the results are in, the tape has been viewed!

And it was naughty! But also very tame.

More specifically, it looked to be a number of unrelated R-rated scenes meticulously recorded onto one tape. Any more tame and it would have just been a complete copy of the 1982 movie Zapped!.

Indeed, the creepiest part of it is that someone would spend so much time meticulously dubbing scenes from god knows where onto the tape...

Revenge of the (Possibly) Dirty Movie

So, there I was, in my furnace room, poking around for the valve to turn on the spigot on the north side of the house, when all of a sudden, I see something up in the rafters.

Now I'm a short lad, so I go and retrieve our trusty Ikea stepstool, and get on up there to take a look.

Pictured above is what I found. A Fuji VCR tape. With only two markings on it. A 'P' written in green Sharpie® on the outer jacket, and a sticker 'P' on the edge of the tape itself.

Delighted with my find, I brang it up to my wife, wagging my non-existant dog tail in pride.

She looks unimpressed, and after I explained where I found it, she said "So it's probably porn then?".

This was hardly the welcome I had expected. Especially given that the occupant before us was an unmarried woman, it seems that I had unearthed treasure that, from the date of manufacture, might have gone undiscovered for 3-4 years!

Clearly my wife didn't appreciate the infinite wonder of which wild speculation on what might be contained on the tape might generate. (more)


After signing far too many documents, my wife and I now actually own our house. That is "own" as in, our presence is allowed by the bank for the immediate future.

It was kind of nerve wracking to move into a house, really like it, and then worry if something might go wrong in the last phases, and such.

In order to "close" on the house I had to go withdraw nearly my entire savings from my credit union.

I sort of expected a kind of fan fare there. Or maybe a couple "OMG I can't believe how much you're withdrawing".

Instead, I was served by a very sleepy and bored looking teller, who efficiently printed out my cashier's check in well under a minute. I commented to my life partner, that, it would have been nice if she had at least paused dramatically for a bit before sending it to the printer.

The rest of our day will now be spent destroying all the features of the house that annoy us. Such as the dragonfly decals on my office wall. And our very half-hearted privacy fence around our patio.

This is probably about the time any sort of house spirits are likely to get pretty angry. Luckily, we rewatched beetlejuice just last night as a precaution.

Transport Me Seymour!

Our 1000 cubic feet of stuff.

We're all moved in! The process ended up being a lot simpler than I had imagined, mainly due to the extraordinary help offered by my various friends and family.

In no particular order, thanks to Bryce, Uncle Jim, Gabe, Nick and Jason for coming out to haul heavy stuff around.

And many, many thanks to my Mom and Dad for driving out to Chicago to help us get back here. Most especially my dad who drove the 24 foot beast the 500 some miles back. Also, I believe my sister helped unpack a bit, wisely arriving after all was moved in. =)

All told, every thing has gone pretty smoothly, except for my DSL installation. The guy (presumably) called to say he couldn't make it. Which made me very sad. But after a bit of impotent pouting, I just decided to take the matter into my own hands, and just pull the line into the house myself, which I did.

We've met three of our neighbors so far, and they all seem exceedingly agreeable and nice people. One even offered to let me borrow any of his tools any time I liked. And they all talked about the upcoming "Raspberry Fesitval", which apparently involves a 3 hour parade, a talent contest, and possibly the only hometown pie eating contest still in existance.

Shades of the inexplicably perfect Pleasantville come alight the more we learn about this town.