The Boston Diaries

The ongoing saga of a programmer who doesn't live in Boston, nor does he even like Boston, but yet named his weblog/journal “The Boston Diaries.”

Go figure.

Monday, June 17, 2019

There and back again

We are home.

We missed my ETA by one minute—had a driver not cut in front of us and slowed down to 40mph on I-95 just as we were approaching our final exit, we would have arrived home at 10:20 pm instead of 10:21 pm. Stupid slow driver! Other than that, it was an uneventful 12 hour drive, give or take a few minutes.

Anyway, a picture of the former house at 279 Probart Street as of yesterday:

[Alas, poor 279 Probart Street! We hardly knew you.]

I do say, it's largely gone.

And thus ends our yearly adventure in Brevard. (As a side note—man is it nice to get back to a real keyboard again.)

Sunday, June 16, 2019

Exteme friendly pets, Brevard edition

[“Scoobie snacks?  You have Scoobie snacks?  Scoobie snacks, Scoobie snacks, Scoobie snacks, Scoobie snacks!  Please can I have a Scoobie snack?  You have one, right?  Scooooooobie snaaaaaaaack!”] [“Really?  You expect me to to act all undignified just for a Scoobie snack?  You aren't serious, are you?”]

Saturday, June 15, 2019

Extreme nightmare fuel part II, Brevard edition

It's bad enough when the white squirrels are using abominations to take over the world, but now Slenderman is in town:

[Run!  Just run!  Don't ask!  Start running!  Oh wait …  too late!]

Then again, this is Transylvania County …

Friday, June 14, 2019

Fur Ball at the Waffle House

Because of our little jaunt into Tennessee we ended up having a late dinner in Brevard, where “late” is “after 9:00 pm when the sidewalks roll up.”

The late-evening eating establishments are rather limited, which is why we found ourselves eating at The WaffleHouse at 11:30 pm on a Friday night. I swear, I never thought I would have the following coversation:

“Ooh, it looks busy.”

“Do you think we'll have to wait for a seat?”

“I hope not.”

We did not have to wait, as we grabbed the only two seats left at the counter.

There, we met with our waitresses, Kloey, with a “K” and Fur Ball (yes, “Fur Ball” was the name on her tag), which is a nickname given to her when she was 15 years old. I kid you not.


Extreme bongs, Sevierville edition

Bunny and I made the trek out to Sevierville, TN to visit Tennessee's largest flea market. Overall, it was “meh” and nothing at all what we were expecting. I'm not sure what we were expecting, but what we found wasn't quite it.

But that's not to say it wasn't amusing, like this interesting gask mask:

[“Dude!  I just turned this gas mask into a bong!” / “Dude!”]

And just a few booths down from that, we hit a bookstore with both kinds of fuction, westerns and Amish:

[Mennonite fiction is just a bit outré for these folks.]

And no, I am not making that bit about “both kinds of fiction” up—the clerk explicitly stated that as a direct quote. I did not handle any of the fiction, lest it burst into flames upon my touching it. The Amish theme kept going with this booth:

[There's a joke just trying to get out about “bitches-n-hoe's” but man does it feel sacrilegious to even think of it.  Besides, what a weird combination for a store—hitches?  Honey?  Amish Jams?  Actually, “Amish Jams” would be a cool name for an Amish rap group.  Come on!  Even Sweden has rap artists these days, so why not the Amish?  I mean, besides Weird Al.]

Yes, this booth would supply your trailer hitching and Amish honey and jam needs. Need I say more? Well, I could but I'm not sure if I should. And when did Tennessee become such a hotbed of Amish activity? Did I not get the memo? I must not have gotten the memo.

Just randomly, I saw several of these signs hanging from the ceiling:

[They turned down my application for a wombat.  No reason given.  Sigh.]

At first, I thought that anyone wanting to buy an animal had to obtain permission from the office, so they could make sure the customer is capable of taking care of marmosets, sloths or whatever other livestock was being sold, but upon reflection, this sign could be a notice for the sellers, to make sure they aren't selling illegal wolverines, pangolins or alligators.

I also found amusing the number of booths selling cleaning products. We got accosted early on by one woman hawking a cleaning product. She mostly talked to Bunny, and every other word out of her mouth was “ma'am.” Every other sentance was “You can drink this stuff, but it wouldn't taste very good.” Nice to know, I guess (and it turned out, every cleaning product being hawked at the half dozen or so other booths were all “drinkable, but you wouldn't like the taste”). And I have no idea if the Amish would use such products.

Thursday, June 13, 2019

Extreme contradiction, Brevard edition

So Bunny and I came across this lovely bit of signage in downtown Brevard:

[“The white zone is for immediate loading and unloading of passengers only. There is no stopping in the red zone.” / “The red zone is for immediate loading and unloading of passengers only. There is no stopping in the white zone.” / “No, the white zone is for loading of passengers and there is no stopping in a RED zone.” / “The red zone has always been for loading and unloading of passengers. There's never stopping in a white zone.” / “Don't you tell me which zone is for loading, and which zone is for stopping!”]

So which is it? Loading, or parking? Or loading of wheelchairs for parking? Or parking for wheelchairs to be loaded? I'm so confused!

Wednesday, June 12, 2019

Extreme doorway, Brevard edition

Walking along Main street I came across this odd doorway:

[It's the entrance to the Narnia Travel Agency. They explained that having the entrance in a seldom used wardrobe in a seldom used room in a large English manor during WWII was not the best of ideas.]

If you look closely, you can see some trees on the other side of the door. Intrigued, I went around to the other side of the building and found it was just a front:

[It was nothing more than just a front for the Narnian Liberation Party.]

I guess it makes Main Street look better if there isn't an obviously missing building.

Tuesday, June 11, 2019

Extreme church, Brevard edition

You can't throw a stone around here without hitting a church. As a result, some of them have a very unique design:

[Very daring interpretation of the Cross iconography for a Baptist chuch.]

It's either a very daring design, or they'll turn anything into a church around here.


“Well, that's one way to renovate a house”

Bunny managed to get a picture of the house across the street before yesterday's training exercise:

[One moment a two story home in need of a bit of work.]

Photo by Bunny

And the house as it “stands” today (pun intended):

[The next moment, a former two story home in need of a lot of work.]

We're told it should all be gone by Saturday. We'll see.

Obligatory Picture

[It's the most wonderful time of the year!]

Obligatory Links

Obligatory Miscellaneous

You have my permission to link freely to any entry here. Go ahead, I won't bite. I promise.

The dates are the permanent links to that day's entries (or entry, if there is only one entry). The titles are the permanent links to that entry only. The format for the links are simple: Start with the base link for this site: http://boston.conman.org/, then add the date you are interested in, say 2000/08/01, so that would make the final URL:

http://boston.conman.org/2000/08/01

You can also specify the entire month by leaving off the day portion. You can even select an arbitrary portion of time.

You may also note subtle shading of the links and that's intentional: the “closer” the link is (relative to the page) the “brighter” it appears. It's an experiment in using color shading to denote the distance a link is from here. If you don't notice it, don't worry; it's not all that important.

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