One year ago today: September 4, 2021, what a busy day.
Five years ago today: September 4, 2017, John Smith, that’s me.
Nine years ago today: September 4, 2013, about 4 seconds.
Random years ago today: September 4, 2016, “Door’s open.”
Yet another study tells us eating beets lowers blood pressure. I like beets, so by now I should be immune to stress. The same source tells me I need to read a book on how to welcome refugees and that I should press the order button “while I still can”. I’ve spent a week now feeling listless and that’s the symptom I was looking up. They say it is the seasonal flu, and same as last year, one symptom at a time is not unusual. So let’s see if I get anything done today. Let’s make a big breakfast and see if that improves matters. It says here if I check this blog with Grammarly, I could be on my way to a Peace Prize. Good morning, America.
Here’s a much better view of the cleaned pallet lumber. I sent copies to Agt. M: the club is always great for new ideas. That article I read on choosing pallet lumber has paid dividends in this much nicer looking pile of boards. If only I could learn to tell one wood from another we’d have something. The news tells us the Artemis launch is now delayed for weeks due to a fuel leak. This is what happens when you go looking for design flaws after the fact.
Now there is a anti-robo-call website called Scammer Payback. Interestingly they hit on the same Urdu insults I’ve advocated for years (just not here). They are able to hear the scams, both sides of the convo and break in at the right time. One thing they stress is they have a database of scammer numbers. I, too, have a very up-to-date list from my own phone, I wonder if they would be interested? Sadly, the tactics they use are primitive and I would be only too happy to discuss with them some of the more advanced techniques I’ve developed but do not have the resources to implement. I won’t link to unknowns, so here is their contact info.
BUSINESS ONLY: ScammerPayback@Night.co
TIPLINE: ScammerPaybackTipline@gmail.com
How can you be so stupid? It disgusts me to hear somebody who is ten years younger than me have no clue about how computers work. You hear them give out passwords, names, addresses, combinations, codes, you name it. No, I do not empathize with that bunch. There is no excuse of any description for being computer illiterate in America these days.
Another laugh for me is the unoriginality of these sites and their merch. It is all the same, mostly T-shirts with their logo. Same with the coffee mugs. I know they are copycatting what sells, but once in a while it would be nice to see a company that actually thinks of something new.
Stogumber railway station.
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That was Trent on the phone. Always great to have an intelligent conversation, a rarity these days. I should have gone up there last weekend and dragged him out of the office. We may be over the hill, but that doesn’t mean you can’t go looking. Turns out he did have some time off and I’ve never seen Jacksonville. I mentioned the possible trip to Texas this month, since he has family in that area. If you look at a map, the eastern border is almost straight south from Texarkana to Beaumont, both of which I’ve been. Yet I’ve never seen that part of east Texas. They say there are big trees. I never saw a really big tree until I was six or seven.
The siding was slow because it’s a two-man chore. Working up a ladder reminds me of an incident in my youth. One summer a crew of us from college worked building storage units, rather like quarter-size boxcars. Once the siding got too high, we paired up to work on the ladders. When you are up there, there is no place to rest, sit, walk, you either get down or nothing. The worst job in that place was tarps, they washed the tarps from the trucks and it was where they sent the flunkies who really could not be trained for anything better.
This new guy didn’t bring enough to drink that hot day so he walked into the shop area asking if anybody had extra. We had a gallon of orange juice that was ice cold so we told him to could help himself. He had an odd name, Furly, something like that. That boy must have had a thirst. He hiked up the whole gallon and chugged it. That would have been fine, but then he cut this massive unbelievable fart. You never knew orange juice could smell so rotten. All eight of us caught up the ladder. For a moment there I thought two of the guys were going to jump.
Bad as it was not as bad as the next summer whe Hughie cleared out 200 foot warehouse with twelve foot ceilings. That’s another tale from the trailer court. If you’ve never heard that one, it’s from the days of hand-writing. It took ten minutes before Hughie could even smell it himself and even then it was so unearthly it wasn’t recognizably human he thought we were kidding.
So Jackson’s plan to scam a billion has failed. If you don’t know the story, the city shut off their water plant, petitioning for a billion dollars in federal aid as sewage flowed in the streets. Instead, the EPA showed up with the Army Corps of Engineers, who broke into the perfectly find water plant and turned the pumps back on. The water is back but the stench will remain a long time. The whole welfare state experiment has failed, time to cancel it wholesale. Give them one year’s notice, then that is it. I went full circle from altruism to disgust on this one. As long as welfare is more comfortable than a job, things will never change.
To maintain the tradition that nothing is ever their own fault, the left has to find a way to blame white people (in ebonics, “wypipo”) for the problem. They’ve come up with “white-flight”. When all the white people get fed up and move away, there are no taxpayers left in the black areas. Plus, nobody with the aptitude to maintain the machinery. Therefore, when things finally break down, it’s because of white-flight. This is the real reason they hate equal but separate—they require white people as hosts.
Then there is that kidnapper (black) who thought his victim (white) had a billion dollars in the ATM and tried to force her to withdraw it. This could be a fake story, but it is so believable.
ADDENDUM
Then I go on-line and an ad for French creamed eggs stares at me. After I’m finished cooking. How cruel is that? There is probably a contest somewhere over whether a Frenchman can cook an egg more ways than and Englishman can cook a potato.
