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Yesteryear

Thursday, May 6, 2021

May 6, 2021

Yesteryear
One year ago today: May 6, 2020, Dear Lewinsky: STFU!
Five years ago today: May 6, 2016, because I like asparagus.
Nine years ago today: May 6, 2012, Colorado on the brain.
Random years ago today: May 6. 2007, clubs, pay rates, etc.

           Help me wake up today, I may sleep through. An empty morning by my standards, but what about y’day when a plastic drum made the blog? Are things slipping around here? Maybe, but let me steer this a bit toward the positive. Yes, it’s a plastic drum, but it didn’t get there by mistake. A truck and gasoline was involved. So was breakfast, iced tea, and a WiFi service. Somebody had to take the picture and cameras are rarely free and handy. Other participants included a typing skills, a computer, and the gumption to get all this down. The event had to be planned and installing it is a task. So, representatively, that drum is symbolic of a slow day around this campsite.
           As Dave Barry might put it, very little compares with this morning’s top story. Some critter, unknown, systematically went through our entire avocado plantation, eating all the seeds. But, so nobody will confuse my sense of humor with Dave’s let’s say my avocados underwent termination before germination. Now you gotta admit that joke is better than anything Biden ever came up with. We lost six pots and learned a lesson. This photo shows the aftermath of the prized Haas on the doorstep.

           Who else has noticed the upsurge of propaganda over wind power and universal Internet? My favorite is the quip that wind and solar generators are now “lower in cost” than coal-fired. This was accomplished by over-taxing fossil fuel. People these days will eat any spin that fits their socialist narrative. And I’m steadfast against free Internet for anybody. The millie claim is the whole world will benefit. Except those who have to pay for it. The main benefactors will be eFAG and they should have to pay for their own beliefs by theirselves.
           The vaccine is a repeat of the same formula. You don’t directly force people onto the Internet, you keep removing services they need and putting them on-line until they have no choice. It worked every time before in history and it will work with the vaccine unless people unite against it. In America, the only thing that unites people that much is race theory and free handouts.


           How about Trump’s “website”. It’s a blog, and it has been criticized as such. That makes it a disappointment to those who like bells & whistles. I’m not sure that’s the correct interpretation because it is practically impossible to attack or block or even interfere with these posts. I’m not sure how link symbols work because I don’t use them (I wonder why.) Trump has chosen a platform that can’t be easily stifled and it seems to be working. How low have the Democrat’s sunk? Here’s an ad where they have to pay actors to even hold an anti-Trump rally. Joe can’t come up with enough supporters “to fill a phone booth”.
           A new term is needed for this activity. We know they’ve staged enough anti-Trump stunts to merit their own trade mark. We got hoaxes, impeachments, and riots and now $15 bucks and for holding a sign? Well, the leftoids greatest deception is the “armed insurrection”, so for protests staffed by hired help, how about “paid insurgent”? Naw, you can do better so leave me a comment. I will read it some time in the next six months, probably by mistake. And what the hell is a phone booth?

Picture of the day.
French perfume samples.
Remember to use BACK ARROW to return to blog.

           Here’s a picture of a few hours work running in the closet light. The switch alone took 90 minutes. You can see how the layers got peeled back and part of the blocking I had to chisel back a half-inch. I found some unexpected water damage in the attic, but also a way to repair it easily from the outside. The shingles, it turns out, are not shedding any grit and remain flexible. This could stave off replacement another five years. Is that important? Yeah, because due to shared workload and responsibilities with the Reb, things are improving at a faster clip than planned. In some areas, much faster. If that continues, we pay somebody else to fix the roof.
           For siesta, I threw on a free stream “Curse of the Maya”, don’t bother. The first half is like a government-funded tourist brochure. There is that irritating Egyptian-Italian theme that the ho-hum Mexicans of today are descended from ancient greatness and deserve a lot more respect than you’ve been handing them lately. Odd, I think, how many intergalactic visitors have never evolved past the reptilian fang-and-claw phase. And why are they always so damn hungry?
           I was up and down the attic ladder enough times already, but the hard part is done. A couple hours tomorrow and I’m back to my lousiest skill called drywall. No matter how I follow the directions, I never get it smooth or even. These pictures show the closet switch, the wire to the light, and light outside for the laundry room. Technically that exterior light should be on a dedicated circuit, but it’s not like I wash clothes in the dark all that much.

           Next, the Reb called. What’s come over me? I never talk on the phone that much. Do I pause here for all the smart alecks and wise cracks? Okay, you done? Well, I tend to agree with her that she’s been in Tennessee such a long time. And the weather there has been terrible for years on end at this time. We’ve slated a big meetup for Saturday totally concerning this business venture. I’m okay with it and face it, 100% for the financing will be from here. The Maya movie is done, the last half was filmed in a dark cave to save on special effects and monster costumes. The finale is a spaceship from Close Encounters.
           So I threw on the next video, called “Bag Man”, about the lobbyist corruption in DC. It’s been a humiliation in American politics since Roosevelt got it rolling big time. But one thing I do not side with is the press when they overstep the line. That would include shoving cameras in people’s faces, impeding their movement, or embarrassment tactics. This one scene shows a reporter getting punched in nose and then a big hoopla that he’s a hemophiliac. My position is that people with hemophilia should keep their mouths shut in certain situations.
           That goes for reporters who are gimped, queer, or absolutely anything where they expect special treatment. Everybody is handicapped in some way, the pee pee poo poo doesn't start until some jerkwad tries to cash in on it. Like that Kovaleski wimp. You don’t want people making fun of you, get into another line of work where gimps are appreciated. Like school teaching or the DMV.

ADDENDUM
           Nothing to hide, huh? When given the option, 96% of iPhone users immediately opt out of tracking. But most people should not get too smug—the average idiot has already permanently given away his identity for life. True, most of these types were groomed to be slugs, but now they have no other option. You were warned. And while we’re here, I remind you, none of the Big Tech companies hire on the basis of ethics. Just because Apple took away one openly-exposed tracking app doesn’t mean you are now safe.
           Tesla cars have been hacked by drones. Here’s a test of your understanding of computer code. Companies like Apple and Sony pay millions to reward people who can hack their code. Why? The wrong answer is “to protect you”. Next, when you heard the Teslas were hacked, did you suppose that’s because they are experimental models and these vulnerabilities will be removed before the cars are widely marketed?
           Wrong again, you have serious flaws with your understanding of how code is created. Nothing is there except by design. You should have concluded that the ability to hack the code and take remote control is being methodically and comprehensibly built into the car from the ground up. Since we can no longer send you to the back of the class, I’ll just advise that if you meet anybody named Sarah Connors, run, don’t walk, for the nearest exit.

Last Laugh