One year ago today: October 24, 2025, generic information.
Five years ago today: October 24, 2021, 90% honey.
Nine years ago today: October 24, 2017,$12,000 on sale.
Random years ago today: October 24, 2016, bryophytes?
Back to work, a second okay day found me outside getting the KIA ready. It has not been on any long trips yet. You know that excellent little compressor I got in Tennessee that finally gave out? I replaced it with the identical model—except it wasn’t identical. This pathetic new model takes six minutes to charge while the old unit took two. The old unit could keep up with a pneumatic tool and with up to 30 seconds of air blasting. This one starts to die instantly. Boo, Harbor Freight.
I checked the fluids and discovered one tire has a broken valve stem. While this goes on, I have more Jim Croce music stud in my head, the car wash song. It brought back memories of Sweet Judy and one of the few things I did not like about her. She and her other rich friends had all these jokes about students finding summer jobs. For me, finding something that even paid the rent was serious business.
While it’s not certain, if I do make this trip, that’s my winter holiday. That is it, like I told you, it how costs $1,000 to go to Nashville and back for week, up from $316 just nine years ago. Mind you, I’m now driving a truck (SUVs are trucks) and the KIA has a V-6 that really hauls ass. The book says 2.4L, but it looks to fill the entire engine compartment with nothing to spare. I have never tromped the pedal on this vehicle, never had to. But I’m lucky if I get 25 mpg on the road.
I am also putting the finishing touches on the Yeti case, and I got genexed. They design the battery to very fine specs, but the necessary power cables? Why, that is somebody else’s job. I had cutouts for where the two cables (one 12VDC and one 110VAC) feed out the back, but did not measure how far the stupid plugs extend out of the casing when plugged in. Some of the staples had to be pulled. I got it over with, but you’d think by now the people who design these things would find something that works right. Instead, we have a three generations of lazy dorks who can tell you any problem you can even remotely tie to them is always somebody else’s fault.
New Orleans eviction.
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How poor was I in my teens? The poorest, and to this day, I have habits that prove it. One of my favorite snacks is day-old hamburger buns, toasted, with jam. Today, I prefer imported Egyptian raspberry jam, but the buns remain. Now that I’m not rejecting all beef any more, I have the buns around and my habit returned. Sigh.
What’s this, the DSA (Democratic Socialists of America) are training “leaders” to form mass tenants organizations. The goal? To refuse to pay rent. Video from England shows the police slapping duct tape over the mouth of a man arrested for wearing a hat with a Union Jack pattern.
A John Hopkins study shows 97.5% of Israeli inhabitants have no ancient Hebrew DNA. That’s the same school whose students have said reading too much makes you lose touch with reality. So instead of reading more about shift registers, I played bass for 45 minutes, including a tune I haven’t touched in a while. Freddy Fender’s “Wasted Days”.
In the background a string of videos came up, clips of women 25 to 55 on about the problems of dating. Of course this got my attention, I love it when the shoe is on the other foot. I repeat that I am NOT that interested in their sob stories. Most of them are trolling, not dating, demanding things they could not possibly offer in return. You know, retro-active virgins, what’s the on-line term, “thirst trapping”? But what does interest me, you already know.
I will not listen to men who complain about not meeting women. That situation is 100% their own fault, if not more. They are complaining about not meeting any women at all, the opposite of my predicament. No folks, what grabs my interest is one select portion of what these women say—the part I’ve always paid close attention to. You learn a lot by observing such behavior.
They are, like myself, complaining about quality, not quantity. Give a man enough quantity, he’ll choose the pretty one. Give the same to a woman, she’ll go for tall men. It’s genetically hard-wired. Yes, there is something different now—the Internet has created a whole new class of women who know they belong to the same club. You’d think they’d benefit from collective experience. Instead you get droves of women who divorced because they found their husbands boring. Ladies, I got news for you. Most men are boring, and your marital status can’t change that.
Women complaining about quality has always intrigued me. They have an infinite selection and still can’t connect. Yes, I do use the input to modify my search. If you have 27 minutes, here is a video I watched. My trained eye spots the two widely-spread categories. The women who have something to offer, and the majority. For me it is easy, if I walk into a place full of the latter, I walk right back out, but I admit I like a room full of women drinking and dancing. It’s my stage perspective at work, I think.
Incidentally, to my naysayers, I can prove it any time. If I’m in the place, within 15 minutes some woman will be over talking to me and checking me out. But never the woman that I want. Those all seem to be taken. But I get to pick the venue, I play minute attention to where good women go looking. Very minute.
ADDENDUM
I just saw the belt for my dryer “on sale” for $89. That’s another verification of how stupid the average consumer has become. Since, if the belt was available here as advertised, it would retail for $9, that implies the other $80 is shipping and handling. Think that one through. If Wal*Mart ordered a hundred of these things, the shipping and handling per belt would be negligible. But shipped one-by-one, the total multiplies out to $8,000 paid by the consumers so the store can save about $100. Yet some people swear shopping on-line saves money.
