New Digs
Boy, those empty threats I made about nuking Jefferson Parish really got the ball rolling. Barely 48 hours later and my girl’s FEMA trailer was rocked and ready on it’s new grassy plot in the West Bank. They hooked her up with a nice one too – king size bed, microwave, brand new frig, fancy plates and silverware, sub-woofers – the deluxe package.
They still fear my iron fist.
Still, my girl wants to trade the king size for a water bed, any info out there about FEMA trailer options or accessory kits? May as well do it up right, huh?
I suppose I owe those hillbillies an apology, but I was wickedly pissed at the time. I had just heard this cat on NPR bitching about the “riff-raff” from New Orleans invading their neighborhoods and parks with temporary encampments of FEMA trailers and I had to throw my colors up. You would think that people brave or foolish enough to return and try to rebuild New Orleans would be greeted like the Allied Forces, or at least a welcome pack of rubes.
Hey, who can really blame them? Nobody wants unexpected government housing in their neighborhood, even if it’s only for a year or so. As Houston can attest, absorbing any portion of New Orleans means accepting the likelihood that a certain number of your citizens will be ripped off, raped, murdered, or all three. Just the same, you can’t displace 1.1 million and expect to avoid refugee camps, and shouldn’t neighboring communities absorb the increase in crime before, or at least as readily, as neighboring states?
But in the end they managed to squeeze one more big fat diamond out of their ass and put a smile on my old lady’s face, so I forgive ‘em. Of course, she plopped hers down quietly in a friend’s back yard, so more than likely, the villagers are still patrolling their parks with pitchforks and torches. It’s turned positively Transylvanian down here.
They still fear my iron fist.
Still, my girl wants to trade the king size for a water bed, any info out there about FEMA trailer options or accessory kits? May as well do it up right, huh?
I suppose I owe those hillbillies an apology, but I was wickedly pissed at the time. I had just heard this cat on NPR bitching about the “riff-raff” from New Orleans invading their neighborhoods and parks with temporary encampments of FEMA trailers and I had to throw my colors up. You would think that people brave or foolish enough to return and try to rebuild New Orleans would be greeted like the Allied Forces, or at least a welcome pack of rubes.
Hey, who can really blame them? Nobody wants unexpected government housing in their neighborhood, even if it’s only for a year or so. As Houston can attest, absorbing any portion of New Orleans means accepting the likelihood that a certain number of your citizens will be ripped off, raped, murdered, or all three. Just the same, you can’t displace 1.1 million and expect to avoid refugee camps, and shouldn’t neighboring communities absorb the increase in crime before, or at least as readily, as neighboring states?
But in the end they managed to squeeze one more big fat diamond out of their ass and put a smile on my old lady’s face, so I forgive ‘em. Of course, she plopped hers down quietly in a friend’s back yard, so more than likely, the villagers are still patrolling their parks with pitchforks and torches. It’s turned positively Transylvanian down here.
posted by R.Chip DeGlinkta at 7:01 AM
<< Home