This morning is another cooker, at least 74% humidity, and don’t let the braggers tell you that ain’t gettin’ up there. Feels like 100 degrees. I’m in the shade. That’s another thing that’s changed. It is impossible for me to consume more electricity than I can pay for. So the A/C is on cold 24/7. I dropped by Dekka, now re-opened, and borrowed a Cussler novel. Slipping from semi-retirement to retirement suits me, but then, I got to practice for 8 years. And I’m nowhere near 65.
The heat will keep me inside just as fast as the shade. Here’s a stock photo of a T-34. For old time’s sake, what can we tell from the picture. This is northwest of Moscow in the late spring, see the trees and rasputitsa. This was before Stalingrad, which was spearheaded by T-34/85s. These tanks are fresh out of the factory, with spare parts strapped on the exterior. The year is 1942 as the tanks carry the two-man turret with “pig’s snout” mantlet on the 76.2mm cannon.The year is confirmed by the appliqué armor plates visible on the hull front, with cutouts for hatches, hooks and weapons. They are buttoned-up signifying they are within range of the enemy but not yet in the battle zone, where they would not travel in single file. So a quiet front, defensive armor, and driving too close together. My guess is near Leningrad. How’d I do?
Confirmed, it is the same sidecar for sale. They've tried the old trick of stating it was sold and taking it off the market for a few months. Like that would fool me. Rather than chance they’ll recognize my low-ball offer again, I’ll enlist some help. I didn’t really care to talk to that ass-clown lady anyway, and her jerk from California who would only say the vehicle mileage was “23k”, which could mean two things. The bike has been stored indoors for a long time. I want it.
We finally have a nickname for Bill, the guitar player. You’ve heard of Billy-Jo and Billy-Bob? Well, meet Billy-Bill. The agreed plan is that he and I practice anyway if Alman is at work. That has implications over here, where all music is dutifully arranged and recorded. And the beat programmed into a drum box which I can operate while I’m singing and playing bass. (Everyone in the band is aware of this.)
The remainder of this week I’m working on the songs he sings. There is an element of gitaritus showing up as those gawdawful droners that guitar players imagine everyone loves because one drunk will always clap. “Never Been To Spain”. Or groaners with no bass line. “Baby Blue”. At least he’s not the hypocrite who complains I like old stuff and then plays “Johnny B. Goode” and “That’s Alright Momma”. Did you get that, G.?
Naturally, I chose the tunes from his list that have interesting bass lines. Del Shannon’s “Runaway” and the cash version of “If I Were a Carpenter”. His list includes so many tunes that were chosen without any regard to quality of the bass line. For example, “Dead Flowers” has that doop, doop-doop root pluck that I call “retard bass” or “kid brother thinks he’s just as good as you” bass. (For the tender readers, both those terms apply to specific items, not any group of people.)
The now-classic bingo needs a break. There will be a long empty stretch while I’m in Colorado. As with all entertainment, the position may not be there when I return, although mine is a hard act to follow. There is a problem with one of the patrons, who is a born grumbler. He needs a cooling off period. He spends hundreds on beer every month and I don’t. But, I bring in thousands upon thousands in business. I once calculated the total and it is nothing to sneeze at.
My comments on Facebook here last day are another hit generator. So here’s today’s trivia. The owner, Zuckerberg, was sued by fellow students, but what exactly was that all about? He first wrote a program that allowed students to rate face pictures and was nearly expelled for stealing those pictures off student ID records. Later, in November 2003, a Harvard group that had almost completed a social site gave Zuckerberg the password to their code when he promised to help them finish it.
Zuckerberg kept saying he was busy, stalling for time. The idiots had given a stranger access to the full code, a stranger with a reputation, so be it, for stealing. On January 11, 2004, forty-seven days later, he launched Facebook. The code, while different enough, accomplishes the identical purpose as what he had agreed to complete.
Who remembers Art, the guy I did not contract to write database code back in 2005/06? The same issue was involved. He refused to design a textbox unless he knew what information I was going to put in there and its intended purpose. He plied the lame argument that he needed this to ensure he was doing a good job. I call that “Others Must Lose” programming. He forgot who he was dealing with and was told to go to hell. See, Harvard could have used me.
Last, I may finally meet my Hungarian princess by month’s end. But I doubt it will click since to many things have gone wrong from that end. Every man I know who lowered his standards regretted it, but then again I tend to chum around with men who have standards in the first place. My former career that left me highly trained in abstract conclusions (and I was tested the best they ever had). This princess is indecisive, weak-willed, easily-duped, and with a recital of failed relationships. Such women are rarely sexually well-adjusted and never age gracefully. They can’t seem to just get on with it.
But I’ll tell you what I’m a sucker for. Besides a pretty face, I mean. I will fall for the line that a gal is fed up with her former life and would like to change things for the better, as long as that better is even remotely similar to how I do things. Women who ask for my help understanding something always catch me with my guard down. I’ve fallen for such women at least fifteen times only to find out it was me they wanted to change and make understand. I’m also a chump for natural good looks. Really, gals, I can deal with no makeup.
The person said it right whoever said, “The problem is not finding somebody to go to bed, it’s finding somebody to wake up with.”
I own a taxi company in Venezuela.
Thirteen women have proposed to me.
I helped build a concrete submarine.
Liza Manelli once took me to dinner.
I was mauled by a team of hunting dogs.
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