November 8, 2016

Yesteryear
One year ago today: November 8, 2015, on Libertarians.
Five years ago today: November 8, 2011, does the world really care?
Nine years ago today: November 8, 2007, 10,000 is a bestseller.
Random years ago today: November 8, 2012, 30 years interest.

MORNING
           Today we decide if there will still be an America in another four years. Or have the Libtards succeeded in flooding the country with enough unskilled, uneducated, third-Worlders to drag us down their level of existence—which has never improved in 2,000 years except temporarily when they invaded their neighbors. Yes, the US invaded the world financially instead of militarily, sort of, but that’s the okay way to do it. I mean, which would you prefer?

           Here is the 4’x4’ being sliced for the jack base. Gee, when you look at those sawhorses, it seems they are varnished. What kind of dummie would varnish home-made sawhorses? Probably some egghead who doesn’t know that varnish is expensive? Either that or the guy found the varnish for 50 cents a can out in Zephyrhills or something last Friday. In which case, he probably has more extra varnish than he does old paint. You decide.

           It was an early morning. I had the front leaf and sawdust piles raked before sunup and moved the operation to the back yard. That’s where the big tree needs slicing. Now that I have a little experience, I think I’ll opt for one of those Swede saws or bucksaws, you know the one I mean. Remember I’m a city slicker and don’t need is some hayseed looking over my shoulder and saying an 18” tree is “nothing”. I grew up around retards like that and to this day, they know a lot about nothing because they’ve spent their lives accomplishing it.

           That’s a real 18” diameter on those logs, see photo. This is more back-breaking labor, but I approached it slowly and made headway. I see the trees tend to rot from the top down. This lower section from around twenty feet up looks like pretty good wood. I have no way of slicing it except the chain saw. There are around six logs this size and I can’t roll them. But when I do, I won’t drive around finding other people with the same workload and tell them it’s nothing. Ha!
           Not shown are the 36 smaller sections I cut and stacked. They are still heavy and dusty, it’ll make you weary. Not sleepy, but bone-tired and man is not made for such labor in the long haul. I still can do the work a short while, but as you get older if you take a break and sit down, that’s just faster you’ll fall asleep.

           So my dead trees are gradually being hauled off and my northern cardinals have disappeared. Did I destroy their habitat? Maybe they don’t like the gourmet diet. Only one thing to do, which is to head to the library for a coffee. And see about a new tune that I find catchy. It’s country lyrics, “It’s hard to kiss the lips at night that chew your ass out all day long.”
           The wagon tires that Howie inflated for me last week? Three of them went flat again, so that’s out of commission. My lovely wagon. Which, I’m proud to say, has a shiny new coat of varnish.

Picture of the day.
Shenandoah Valley.
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NOON
           There is no limit to the sleaziness of the media. As soon as Clinton gained one or two small states in the easternmost time zones, the televisions completely ignored Trump and began flashing a message “Clinton Winner”. The ploy seems to be that voters out west, many whom have not made it to the booths yet, would see the broadcasts and decide if she’d already won, why bother voting? The Libtard networks probably had the releases ready months ago.

           Beyond that, I have no information. I only saw the ads through store windows when I went downtown to mail a letter. The good news is that I found the missing $110.00. That makes my day. It was very neatly folded up in the pocket of a pair of slacks I had decided not to wear that day, and stuck back in the bottom drawer.

           I forget what I was going to buy that day, so the field is open. I need that leaf blower, but JZ reports many problems with the gasoline models. I borrowed his chain saw back in 2009(?) but otherwise have not used these type of engines.
           Trivia. Most of these small engines are prone to fouled fuel lines. The trick is before you store the tool, drain the gas tank. Then start it again and run it until it stalls. This clears the lines and ensures that when you return the saw, JZ will complain you burned up all his gas, you cheapskate.
           Since I have a coupon, I’ll opt for the $32 electric model up at Harbor Freight. I’m used to fighting with cords. The silence is worth it. Plus people hesitate to borrow an electric model. I was concerned that this yard work would mean sore arms and back. Nope, it was a heart attack and nothing else thirteen years ago now.

           Looking back, this month it is 35 years since I began my job at the phone place. Not the regular phone company you are familiar with, but the satellites and ATM lines. (Mind you, I am beyond proficient in troubleshooting ordinary phones if it came to that.) My experiences with that corporation still influence my decisions to this day. It is a mindless bureaucracy but not so much more than any other. Unless you are in middle management by age 30, your career is over. The CEO is a figurehead who otherwise could not run a lemonade stand. And your co-workers are so deep in debt, they’ll kiss ass until the day they die or retire.
           This is an overlooked aspect of American business practice. The degree to which employees are sunk in debt is an unstudied facet of the decline in workplace ethics. One of the easiest distinctions between employees is the regimentalized attitudes and behavior of the group that have signed away their paychecks for material possessions today. This is always reflected in suboptimal decisions by management who conclude the entire workforce are sheeple. Read the rulebook and you will see how heavily the system banks on employees have minimal free will.

NIGHT
           A wee bit of research and I found the version I like best of the newest addition to my song list. Vince Gill’s “It’s Hard To Kiss The Lips At Night That Chew Your Ass Out All Day Long”. It’s a bit of a structureless poem set to music and I’ve chosen the release by the Notorious Cherry Bombs. It’s also a tune I might use as a tag, a little ditty I tack on to some other tune when I have the audience’s attention and want a splashy ending.

           How about this glass of fresh grapefruit juice? Or at least the consensus says it is grapefruit. It’s mitchfruit. This may be the final batch for a while, as you see the centers are going to seed. The drink has also lost the natural sweetness. This batch will wake you up in the morning since it is about on a par with battery acid. At least you won’t need any more vitamin C.

           Some folks may wonder why a bit of the fruit still has twigs and leaves attached. That’s because the remaining fruit is way too high up in the tree to reach even with a ladder. And these days, I’m not as good a shot as I used to be. I saw the red cardinal this morning, a good sign. Or I should say a cardinal, since I don’t know if it is the same. But I do note that some cats do not like the sound of a recorder being played early in the mornings. It doesn’t bother Zeke. At it was down to 60.1°F overnight. Much more hospitable than this time of year in Miami.


Last Laugh
Goodbye, Hillary.

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