One year ago today: May 18, 2018, Punta Gorda military museum.
Five years ago today: May 18, 2014, Russian food is health food.
Nine years ago today: May 18, 2010, especially mating.
Random years ago today: May 18, 2012, an early Facebook warning.
Finally back in this time zone, I spent the morning fighting traffic. Whereas Florida’s quota of numbskull drivers shifts the whole bell curve to the left, it has no monopoly on idiots. For some reason, I hit every red light and got cut off by stragglers all the way down Lebanon Pike. Including this one a-hole foreign lady who would not let me change lanes. I had to miss three or four left turns. But I wrote it off as Australia elects its version of Trump. That’s just the next country who has given up any fantasy that immigration will make them better.
Beware of crooked roadside veggie vendors. They are a shifty bunch. I got ripped off on these green onions. How so? It was the old switcheroo. I picked out the best bunch, but as I was paying, the fat lady’s fat husband distracted me with a question about the dogs. When I got home an hour later, she’d subbed this scraggly bunch into my bag. All the thousands of books Amazon is plugging about starting a new business are obsolete. Because not one of them deals with the petty thievery that has become the norm at street level.
MicroSoft does it again. My PrintScreen key quit working. Or to be more exact, when you copy and go to paste the capture, the button does nothing. The only menu it shows does not include any option to copy from the clipboard. You know, MicroSoft has always been asinine about having no method of viewing the clipboard directly. They are more focused on adding moronic shorcuts for the disabled that cannot be, well, disabled. Call them typos to La La Land.
The siesta movie today was, I don’t know. It was on youTube without a title. About B-17 bomber raids over Germany. Don’t ask many questions, and it’s tolerable. Questions like since when did Me109s have wing mounted .303 machine guns, and where did they find a real Spitfire with the old greenhouse canopy. But you have to appreciate the effort taken to name the Brit officers. I mean really, Major Hardwicke?
Razor blade factory.
Remember to use BACK ARROW to return to blog.
Let’s not forget to say hello to JeePee. Here he is in the kitchen. Why is it so dark? Well, I won’t say anything because in my kitchen, ahem, I leave the lights on for the pets. To explain how the little guy knows when I’m chopping vegetables in the next room, I have a theory that turtles have a tiny little radar set hidden under the inside of their shells. So, when the kitchen lights are cruelly turned off, JeePee, just remember it isn’t me making you clamber by instrument. Clamber? Yea, look it up.”to get in and out of something in an awkward or laborious way, typically using both hands and feet”. JeePee has to clamber because, like, he can’t fly so easily.
Yes, one should be nice, and say nothing if you have nothing nice to say. Great, that is such a sweet thing to parrot, but who’s not being nice? It’s the people that take their retard-sounding kids to an adult drinking establishment on a Saturday night and put their untalented little brats on stage, putting others on the spot to pretend they think it’s all so cute. Shit, it sounded like hell. I’ve heard kids with talent and they were not present. True, every kid can use encouragement because you never know. But other people’s Saturday night is not the time to be putting such things to the test.
I do apologize if my wording offends anyone, but that’s a partial apology for people who are too stupid to get the point in the first place. I didn’t drive across town to pretend somebody else’s kids are oh-so-wonderful. It was a disgusting spectacle and if I’d known, I would have gone someplace else. I wonder which side you, the reader, will take. I like to think, if you are reading this blog, you will pick the side that respects other people’s right to quiet enjoyment. Don’t be one of the slopes that takes the meaning of “family” restaurant too literally. There are also families who don’t have kids and/or left them with the babysitter to do out to a restaurant for a break from it all.
Here’s a list of the most common millennial pickup lines as suggested on-lne for men who do not want to come across “too strong, too fast”. That’s most common, not to be confused with effective, clever, or wise. In any order.
What pets did you have when you were growing up?
What age do you feel right now, and why?
How many pairs of shoes do you own?
Now, I’m serious, I got these statistics from a site called “Manteliigence”. No link; I won’t insult your intelligence. God, I hope they are joking. Anyhow, I defy anything to better my best pickup line ever. Do you want to hear it? I’ve told it before, it goes like this. “Hi.”
ADDENDUM
Ha, CBS (on-line anyway) is pumping up the story that “the Americas” from “Canada to Mexico” are being “threatened” by “severe storms”. Duh, this is tornado season. Happens every year since the last ice age, nothing new about it. There are no actual storms, the hype is the same old see-we-told-you angle from the left, still whining that they lost the election. They seem to think the mid-west voted for non-issues like immigration instead of climate change, and now just you watch. Sure as shootin’, there’s gonna be a storm, it’s gonna rain. You pack of bloody rednecks who voted or Trump had best remember that at the polls next year.
You been warned.
