One year ago today: July 19, 2020, working on my shed.
Five years ago today: July 19, 2016, scooters, robotics, etc.
Nine years ago today: July 19, 2012, show me a picture, dammit.
Random years ago today: July 19, 2013, The Segregated Marshmallow Event.
Makes my day. It just happened again. I effortlessly reached up to almost full height with my right arm. Still with a bend and a little resistance, but this portends an ability to again drive my sidecar. It was later this week that I bought that precious unit in 2012. Stand by for news, this is a big event for me. Today’s rumor is the first election fraud arrests will be the Maricopa Elections Board. I say they don’t have the guts to do it. Republican politicians are chickenshits. The rest are armed to the teeth, which I heard a neat saying about. When the police knock on your door to confiscate your guns, your guns are the reason they still knock.
For some reason, I was remembering this yahoo in my home room from eighth to tenth grade, a guy named Dwayne. He was your non-descript, C average, interesting for the first five minutes sort of plug-along. Kind of nobody, really, he was not in my choir, scout troop, marching band, social circle, nothing. But Dwayne came to be my concept of a blocker. This is unfair to Dwayne, because I doubt the thought ever crossed his mind. Yet he could detect a mile away if you were trying to do anything to improve yourself. He saw everybody as a team player but nobody as a team captain.
Stay with me here, while Dwayne saw nothing wrong with being an exceptional team player, he was against anything else. We had nothing in common, but that would not stop him from always being on the opposing side. I asked the school if my self-formed rock band could use the gym to practice after school. The Student’s Union got to vote on such matters, and Dwayne voted against it. For the death of him, Dwayne could not state afterward why he voted no, but even abstaining was out of the question. I should not pick on him, but were 25 Dwaynes in every classroom back then. He has come to personify the shiftless, disinterested, mundane do-nothing, another brick in the wall.
Another sad situation for the Democrats is their antics. To them, it is politics as usual but to the majority, these Democrats are revealing how sophisticated they are with their bag of dirty tricks. Like clearing out of Texas so there would not be enough members present to pass a bill, or faking they caught COVID to get into quarantine to avoid being arrested. They are showing people they will use any trick in the book to get their own way. They give off the impression if they’ll do that so readily, they’ll do anything to cheat. That’s about the worst possible image they could project with somebody like Trump on the other side.
Is anybody else having difficultly figuring out which Arizona vote audit announcement is the official version? Every day there is some source announcing they are first to make the authorized disclosure. Look, we know there was fraud, so knock off the jockeying. I suppose we’ll know the real deal when the Democrat denial apparatus swings into high gear. They are ready, but have learned not to second-guess what the other side is up to. Their blanket disclaimers have worn thin so we can presume they have some targeted denials ready to roll. There appear to be six or seven categories of ballot and voter fraud, but they are going to have to sooner or later get down to are the ballots real or fake? It will be one hell of a twist, since we all know the answer and they know that we know.
It looked like this setup, a clicker with some magnetic coils and it was loud enough to get your attention. It produced a rather unique sound and seems to me it was the interval between clicks that was a dot or dash. Because the train station guy would type the telegrams out and the clicking of his typewriter didn’t even phase him. But, as usual, the millies have “improved” that out of existence. There must be a track somewhere, but don’t search with the keyword “clicks” or you get some mouth-breather out there named Gerbilisco talking crap about an oscilloscope wave. Drawing diagrams while you wait. Damn, I hate people that do that. It’s like the goofs who tune their guitars on stage. They are disgusting and that is that.
I think Morse code has something in common with bass playing. The best people are the ones who can go faster than everyone else—but don’t.
Art Institute of Chicago.
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Wow, five hours in the shed. Over the last while, I cleared a work space in the white shed, the one that got full with storage so I had to room for projects. With the roof fixed, I can move stuff safely out and give myself a little spot. So I did not notice time as I stained more wood, got some hinges in place, and made some rope handles. That’s my tool box trade mark, it’s the soft rope from the hobby store. I have templates for cutting and drilling the whole process. When I first started I did not know how to build boxes with lids. That’s where the biscuit joiner comes in, here is my first experience at adding a lid to an existing box. Build it as a solid unit, then cut the lid off. Here’s some closeups of my messy detail work—but all parts are functional. See, I'm getting better at doing crummy work.
The biscuit joiner has its critics. For what I need, it has done a marvelous job. The chain saw box is proof, it would not otherwise have happened. One trick of the trade is to learn making the disk cuts off center, toward the side of the wood that doesn’t show. Why? Because the biscuits sometimes swell slightly Another trick is that pallet lumber, unlike the smoothly planed stuff, soaks up a lot of stain. So the best kind to use is the free brands. Just allow for four times as much stain, let it soak, and only wipe off what’s puddled or you get slivers. This all took place inside an air-conditioned shed that was so nice and cool that I only too one break all day, to go grab an iced tea.
The new 20V battery takes forever to charge. Four hours so far, and it really didn’t last that long in the first place. This picture is the chain saw tucked into the case, with some gas and oil containers in the side pocket. The day was all this sort of tasks instead of doing what I know I should be, which is studying the lesson modules. It’s my attitude, you know, that writing can wait because it’s something I always know I can do in my spare time, and just now there is no spare time. Mind you, all the spare time I want is just up in Tennessee, so don’t rule anything out.
ADDENDUM
That’s interesting. The COVID lockdown has instituted an increase in debt collections. It could be the upsurge in work at home jobs, as this field is definitely something few people want to do in an exposed office. Biggest US debt collector? Capital One, which stands head and shoulders above all other banks. So much so the government had to stop them from grabbing stimulus checks—it is households earning under $42,000 per year that most often get hit with garnishments. The useless lockdowns have forced millions of them permanently into debt poverty. And you know me, unless they get together and sue the people who make them lockdown, no mercy. “They hired the money, didn’t they?” I’ve got to mention the motor in the van. For some reason, it is much more powerful than it needs to be. Why would somebody put a race car motor in a van? Maybe it’s some macho thing. Go easy on the pedal, or you can chirp the tires. The motor is also smooth and quiet, so if you don’t pay attention, you are doing 80 mph in a no time. The tradeoff is 17.4 mpg in the city. It comes in handy when you need it, which is rare for me. Here’s an instance.
On my way to the lumberyard, there is an intersection with a light timed wrong. As you get around the corner, you have to floor it or the next light is a long one. Everybody local knows this, so it is like and eighth-mile drag strip. I had to floor the old station wagon to make it. Often, I’ll have a “muscle car” next to me and with the van I notice I can keep right up with them. This van puts my old Cadillac to shame.
And keep that Democrat suck-hole Judge by the name of Randolph Moss on file. He’ll be needing some adjustment once Trump is back in power. Moss is the AOL who sentenced the first DC protester to jail time. This is typical of Democrat arrogance, they charge people for entering a building that does not belong to the Democrats. It is part of the big fake like they have to orchestrate over the protest of January 6. If they don’t keep shrieking it was an “insurrection”, too many other pieces of their phony election and illegal takeover are in danger of causing a meltdown of their entire corrupt infrastructure. They must have their insurrection, even to the point of putting innocent protesters in jail. Possibly making them martyrs?
