One year ago today: May 9, 2025, he’s been to Wal*Mart.
Five years ago today: May 9, 2021, it won’t be popular.
Nine years ago today: May 9, 2017, mortgage help – the American farce.
Random years ago today: May 9, 1981, a curious entry.
Rice krispies. I wondered how they puffed the rice. Now I know, they deep fry it. Good morning and recall the small boxes from y’day. Here is a video with them laser etched. These are prototypes only, as I strive to find something I can sell to the Florida rank and file. It is ordinary as in generic boxes with the word “FAKE” added. These have the burn on several faces as I experiment. In real life, each copy requires eight minutes, so no mass production here. And I thought Trump shut down commie radio, NPR.
The Prez, my former guitarist, is published in some magazines and is how getting book readings. I don’t know how these work, other than it being a sales pitch. I got some reading done over hear, but it was boring navigation tables. Well, only boring if you don’t know what’s going on. And a message arrives, we have an appointment on Wednesday afternoon. I’ll have to take the Hundy and $200 for gas.
Eastern Idaho, I think.
Remember to use BACK ARROW to return to blog.
And that is what you get today because even doing little was too much. That’s it, I made cinnamon toast and fell back asleep. Until past 7:00PM. I tried a bit to get busy, to no avail. This was actually good, because it was not tired from any over-activity. Needed beauty rest and the day isn’t over yet. Let me watch some movies. Plural, movies, as I often watch two back to back to balance slow parts.
When I woke, I noticed definitely flashbacks to the opioid nightmares from surgery. While now rare, the vividness has not diminished. I tried, using Paint, to duplicate what I see. The results were surprisingly accurate, shown here. I would point out this is not some idle illusion to brush away, but a solid, wide-awake vision, real as can be.
The top part shows a sample of real text I’ll be reading. Just holding it on paper. This does not happen on-screen, only with physical paper. Then in roughly half a second, it changes to the lower panel. You can blink, rub your eyes, shake your head, but it is real.
The paper changes to a charcoal color somewhat darker than you see here, and becomes brittle as if it has been burned but did not wrinkle. The font becomes larger and tinged with gold, I had to use orange here. The fiery glittering gold will outline some letters, as if the gold was behind the page but burned through in a tinge.
It is as real as what you are reading, you cannot make it go away by turning the page and it sometimes moves slightly to one side, then returns. It is not disorienting or mysterious, but it is not exactly a tonic because you don’t know how long it will last. Usually a few seconds, never more than ten seconds and you cannot fight it. The effect on superstitious or suggestible people must be unearthly. It transforms itself before your eyes and it is fully realistic.
The best solution for me is to put the book down and drift into a short nap. You cannot but wonder if this happens in other ways but you don’t notice it unless reading. Yes, it is the drug administered under anesthetic. The vision is regular and often, then tapers away at the same rate as other symptoms. Today’s attack was mild and short lived, scary both for the long interval and knowledge that they gave me only the minimum dose to separate my sternum in case I was one of the rare “conscious” types. I’m not.
This puts me out of commission and coupled with my disrupted sleep habits since the operation, I lost this valuable Saturday. Even my last laugh isn’t that funny today.
