One year ago today: September 21, 2016, squirrels, insulation, pizza plates.
Five years ago today: September 21, 2012, Charlie’s perfect teeth.
Nine years ago today: September 21, 2008, a generation of recording artists.
Random years ago today: September 21, 2011, I decide to buy a motorcycle.
Fair warning, Florida is one of the most filthy corrupt of the states east of the Mississippi. Just don’t you go thinking that makes it unique. Corrupt and Mafia-controlled are not the same by definition. The Mafia, as in New Jersey (the Soprano State) at least has an interest in keeping the system afloat. Florida is third world slash and grab. It is also advisable that you don’t conclude I’m on about some minor bureaucratic squabble. I’m referring to above-the-board long term entrenched corruption to the core of the Florida system, all of it borderline illegal if you did it, but not when they do it.
Obviously if you’ve shelled out for a car, your intention is to drive the damn thing. So don’t hand me that BS that the decision to pay a thousand in extra fees was somehow mine. Most people who work need a car to get there. Knock it off with the crap that this was somehow their choice. I wasted a trip to the DMV this morning to put up with this nonsense. I’d only taken $800 from the bank, thinking that would leave me enough to make Miami on the weekend. Wrong, It’s disgusting that government fees have become so high that few can afford it without a credit card.
Seriously. When I was in there, the staff neither had nor could be trusted with change for even a $50 bill. I was short a couple hundred, so I backed out of the line. But you should have seen their beady eyes light up at the mere sight of $500 in cash money. Florida is of deadbeats who can put anything on their credit cards but can’t come up with enough cash for bubblegum.
Multnomah Falls, Oregon.
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On the topic of corruption, how do you like the scumbag companies who make their nut because most people don’t read or understand the fine print? This was interesting over here today because Agt. R and I went over just such a letter. I’ll add the fictitious name “Sandra” to portray this on-going stupidity. Sandra has been sending a form letter over some minor issue with property tax. I quickly surmised good old Sandra has no clue what her letters even mean. The letters are from some 1950’s format and she has not the foggiest what she’s been doing.
She’s been instructed to send a series of letters that almost nobody would respond to. She probably hasn’t even read the letters as her intention is plainly to create a pattern of non-responses from the addressee. She keeps adding to contact her if there are any questions. I’m tempted to do that to see if she knows anything. There are all manner of questions, but they are way above old Sandra’s pay grade.
The Stones went on about the Queen of the Underground. Tonight, I may have met the King. I live in a trailer court, this guy lives in a Winnebago. Before I boycotted a certain joint, this guy lived in the parking lot behind the place. At first he had to be kidding, but he showed us his smart phone proving he had, this year so far, played 8010 tunes on the jukebox. And most of those cost a dollar each. He remembered me as the guy who would drop by on Sundays to write. I vaguely recall the camper parked around back, so because it is news, here is his story.
He owns that camper and had made a deal to park it there for a while. He’s well dressed and personable, so it is not like he’s a scrounge. In fact, he's got lots of money by the way he acts about it. I think he’s one of those types who retired to tour the country in his rig. From what I gather, he did things for the club in exchange for parking. They have a huge unused back area that would hold a hundred RVs. He was there a few months and they suddenly told him he had to start paying $100 to park. This tips me off the business is struggling. That amount is outrageous for a spot 11 miles from town. The staff over there likes to play favorites and run the place like a private house party. Except they seem to be losing their higher income patrons.
“Clint Eastwood = old west action.”
~ another anagram
Here’s a newer picture of the “Judge’s House” in the SE end. Through the window of the Taurus, you can see it’s been whitewashed. But did it sell? The place is cleaned up and the yard is maintained, but I pass that house nearly every time I drive along Highway 80 and there are never any cars parked there. Didn’t I hear the place was a six-bedroom? Imagine the bed and breakfast that would make.
ADDENDUM
Here’s some news that I could not ever find out on my own. The Hippie says that the big pharm companies have completely bastardized the legal marijuana market in Florida. Here’s the details, so you non-tokers like me can get the real story. Around 30 shops have opened and they all feature a prominent marijuana leaf to entice the customer. Problem is, there is no weed for sale inside, I'm told. Instead, it is some kind of pill that contains six of the active ingredients in pot.
In their defense, the big boys are saying the pills are necessary because they have to make a profit at it. Do they now? Since when? It seems to me they were not making anything off it before, so this smacks of them just saying that to get a cut of the action. Either way, keep your wits about you and understand that legal or not, there are not shops in Florida where you can actually buy the weed itself.
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