This is a sample of the bread baking going on at Kiss’s. These are displays, not the regular fare. I yelped a totally good review on the place when some yokel slammed them for not having “Lithuanian” bread. Newcomers note: Read the filtered reviews, because Yelp has a so-called system they claim rejects questionable sources. It automatically hides all new posts yet seems to be defeatable by any semi-literate who makes enough entries. (Enough seems to be around twenty.)
We’ll be all over the board today. I stopped at the Walkabout to see Ray-B and enjoy my new-found freedom such as it is emerging. I may have rather just stayed there and chatted up the heavy-bottomed waitress than gone to work, but I don’t want to sound unappreciative of the role my side-sources have played over the past few years. It is getting progressively harder to tie up my weekends, as said below. Meanwhile, today’s first world problem. I bought a new pair of slacks, choosing “soft denim”. It’s more comfortable and available in the neutral colors that match my shirts. But Dockers has somehow changed the formula. The material doesn’t grip my stay-dri scooter seat. When I hit the brakes, my ass slides around faster than my last girlfriend when she’s apartment hunting. But where her knees hit the floor, mine only hit the console.
Cowboy Mike called and all is not well with the Tascam. He can’t find the burn to disk command and neither can I. It is, I suspect, a three-step process. This could be comical, two old guys with a digital recorder trying to figure out a function not clearly laid out in the manual. Should I video this for youTube? I didn’t tell Mike I normally charge $80 for this kind of service, with no guarantees.
Not being a jazz fan, sometimes I like what is done right, such as Brand X’s “Nuclear Burn”. That’s doesn’t mean I’m offering encouragement to all the half-baked blues and jazz wannabes out there. Really, 99% of you are quite terrible. If you think Hotel California is the ultimate guitar, you’re not the musical 1% is what I’m sayin’. Now, was that a cute insult or what!
Bingo is fun, but not enough fun lately. I present it as happy-go-lucky, but the reality is it clips my weekends. I can’t leave town Friday night, I can’t start anything Saturday afternoon past 3:00 PM. It has proven equally as costly music and about half as time-consuming but without the same rewards. Imagine my mortification when the barmaid suggested I work only “two and a half hours a week”. Of course, she says that whenever I make more money in tips than she does.
This got me thinking maybe bingo has run its course. As my situation improves, it is foolish to compare my income zero cost. The opportunity cost (the amount of money or enjoyment I give up for bingo) becomes important the moment I operate at a surplus. And that surplus has been a reality for several months running. Do I put up with nonsense or take my weekends back? Meanwhile, I get treated to somebody who claims to own four houses but quibbles about my $29.
For those who asked, yes, I do often watch Canadian laws because when it comes to personal freedoms, Canada is fifteen years more repressive. If you want to see where America will be in 2027 regarding disrespect for privacy and human rights, just look into Canada today. I spotted this pattern back in 1979. Of interest just now is their law seeking to ban all natural health products (NHP). People are screaming it will make vitamins cost $100 per bottle. Certainly, it will create another layer of criminality.
But it will also cut out the nonsense of unregulated “Chinese” medicine. If you or I claimed to cure cancer in Canada, we would be arrested—-unless the cure was processed sheep guts and we were Chinese. Such concoctions and claims are readily available in Chinatown and Canadians are so totally paranoid of being called prejudiced, they look the other way. Trivia: Canada has more anti-hate crime laws than the rest of the world combined. Rumor has it Canada will also be first with fee-based Internet, and largely thanks to a company I used to work for.
