MORNING
Well, yes, ever since I was 18 I kind of strongly suspected there was something wrong with the way the money system is set up. The way people live their lives in debt doesn’t seem compatible with what we are taught about freedom and the rewards of living right. Borrowing money is living wrong and those who do it deserve to fall on their faces. So imagine my misgivings to learn the four countries now being demonized by the American press are the only countries without a Rothschild-controlled central bank: North Korea, Cuba, Iran, and Syria. Definitely not a coincidence. But, I’m going for coffee anyway.
Actually, he’s not that bad. If you look to the left, the other truck as already over the line and my scooter had just pulled out of the blank spot. This was us heading over to Alaine’s for the football party. Everybody was whooping it up, well, except us, who spent the time in the back patio socializing. If I didn’t say, my custom Honda clutch cable finally arrived, and I was informed it had a warranty—but Honda only had to honor that or any other Honda warranty on other Honda products I own only if I am “a customer in good standing”.
I asked them what that meant, and they said a number of things including not having any unresolved complaints with Honda and, get this, not blogging against Honda. Now, what kind of Generation X bullshit is that? Also, you had to have a registered account with Honda, so if anything major does go wrong, they have your home address on file. Honda, like Sony, is sliding downhill.
NOON
"I quit school in the fifth grade because of pneumonia. Not because I had it, but because I couldn't spell it." --Rocky Graziano
Hello Superb Owl party. This is the real reason it is so much fun. Alaine outdoes herself with the food, although I believe this oyster thing is by her hubbie. I don’t eat oyster, I find it tasteless and also I’ve heard of people being felled by mollusk seafood. On the other hand, I have seen JZ eat 38 of them in one sitting. That’s oysters in the background, shrimp, which I like is in my little dish in the foreground. With horseradish sauce, what do they call it uptown? Cocktail sauce? Just lah-deeeee-dah.
But now all we are going to hear for the next spell is this football chunk day in and out. I’m okay with it from a distance, but I was more interesting in visiting with JZ and this lady, Maggie, who was personable but not my type. She, like many people, are taken aback by how JZ and I, opposites in most ways, could be best pals all this time.
I can’t explain that either, but we are a team, see? I like coffee, he’d rather drink water. He won’t go out in the rain, I’ll drive a motorcycle right through it all day. He likes women who “put perfume everywhere”, I like the ones who don’t have to. He gambles, I won’t set foot in a casino unless dragged. He gets bored with a project unless there’s twenty feet of pipe laid per hour, I will spend two days on a microscopic task until it works right.
AFTERNOON
This chart is a pool for the football game. I don’t understand the scoring system, so it does not matter to me that the picture is upside down. It has something to do with a point spread, and JZ tried to explain how the guy that caught the pass should have run to the twenty-yard line. But why? Was he not over the goal line? Isn't running the wrong way a Forrest Gump?
I already said, she is nice, but not my type. I got an elbow in the rib for that. What the hesitation is that she is just not a “take charge” type of personality, she does not hit the ground running. I have tried and consistently failed to make a go of it with such people before and it does not work with me. Like the Portuguese lady I dated, while we both love a great show, she likes watching one while I enjoy putting it on. That, my friends, is a deep and wide canyon.
Maybe I should mention that a significant aspect of my act is catering to the fact that most women, no matter how permanently single, do have a small stockpile of fond dating memories. Even if they’ve chucked the romantical parts, my repertoire will still have a lot to offer in the memory department. This should not be confused with anything else other than women love to be in love. It does not mean they necessarily like me for anything else. And besides, on stage is the one place I admit to being picky. Not too picky, just the right amount of picky.
Now Alaine, who I went to visit, had only five minutes to spare by the time I usually head home to avoid driving in the pitch dark. I stuck around until 9:00PM because I crashed over at JZs, but being hostess to, let me count, probably 20 or 25 people is a major undertaking. I had to leave when JZ did. That’s okay, Alaine and I visit much more than do the average people who live twenty miles down the road.
EVENING
We got back to JZ’s ‘hood and toured the pubs without stopping. I’ve told him that Kendall area is working class. They can’t stay out late on Sundays. So instead we went back to his place and watched old western movies. “Golly Miss Daisy, after the calfs is a-branded, I’ll be having some extra spare time on my hands and I’d sure like to spend it with you.” Gag me with a spoon.
But here’s a picture of a nice fish that hides inside the wavy coral in the big fish tank that they won’t let me go swimming in. Can you see it? The coral is soft and moves around like leaves in the breeze. I’ve been trying to get this guy’s picture for months. But if you get close enough to see him, he can see you and ducks the split second your finger touches the shutter. Yes, I know, I should tape a piece of cardboard over so he can’t see it, but I finally got him.
This fish is smarter than a penguin.
ADDENDUM
More documentaries, this time about the fighting around Caen, the town the non-American troops of D-Day were blunted by the teenagers of a single German division. At this point it is advisable to understand that the same people who controlled the American media of WWII still control the American media today. If you want some amazing accounts, read the records of the German soldiers. They had been three years on the Russian front, and regarded the Canadians as “little fish”.
They joke about how bad the Canadians fought. The kill ratio was over 4:1 in both men and tanks, but in the end, the Canadians had 5:1 of both. What struck me is that at least some of the Canadian stories must be outright lies. True, the battlefield quickly degenerated into smoke and dust and all communication was lost. But the Germans had experience and knew precisely how to kick the shit out of a far tougher enemy in exactly those circumstances.
The Germans had vastly better training and equipment. I don’t need to quote tonnage to tell you a German Tiger could pick off a Sherman from two miles away and keep that up all day long. So I’m inclined to disbelieve Canadian reports that they opened up with Tommy guns and it was the Germans who broke and ran. Some statistics speak for themselves—if the Germans were retreating over hill and dale whenever did they find time to take 5,725 Canadian prisoners?
Another suspicious theme in the Canadian reports is that they outflanked the German positions every time. In fact, the Germans were past-masters at setting up a decoy while their anti-tank guns covered those flanking routes. Some better explanation would have to be cooked up before I can believe any yarns about Lethbridge farm boys outsmarting the Wermacht. I've seen Lethbridge, you know. Until further notice, it was weight of numbers, not bravery, that decided the issue.
Last Laugh
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