Captivity -- Day 85 My Boobies Lie Over the Ocean

The humidity went into hiding today.
Nobody missed it.



In November 1963, a popular young president drove into an ambush.
Various unstolen video and pictures show the crowd running toward the grassy knoll after the shooter.

Can you imagine, heaven forbid, if that happened today?
The crowd wouldn't move because the shooting came from the crowd. Antifa would be high fiving each other, half the crowd would cheer, and the limo couldn't get to the hospital because BLM was peacefully laying in the street (reloading). All video from every angle would be on YouTube before the FBI could confiscate a single phone. The newspapers would say the fatal shot came from a killer satellite over Australia, which bounced off Russia first. In spite of YouTube's policy of not glorifying violence, they left the footage up because it was 'uplifting.'



Today's best had to be the little kid asking his mom why that lady's pocketbook said FUCK on it. Because he was looking at Mrs lefty's FUCK keychain. Mrs lefty apologized, the mom would have no apologizing, and they laughed. If the kids ever go back to school, I give him 2 days before suspension.

Speaking of which, the police appeared at the home of an 11 year old boy, in a  virtual classroom. A teacher spotted the child's bb rifle on the wall and called the police. The police asked for Mom's permission to SEARCH the house, then they turned up the bb rifle. Of course there were no charges, because there was nothing illegal. They should have charged the teacher for causing a panic. The child was terrorized.



They let me out today.
After checking with the doctors, Mrs lefty was told ok, but not for too long, and to get me home immediately if I started to look stressed. How could anybody be stressed while picking up a pizza from our favorite place?

Even though it was never a problem before, all of the sudden they required masks.
Uh oh.
Mrs lefty took one look at me and suggested we go home. NOW.
She says I tend to look more homicidal than normal when we go out.

Trying out a few new things the doctors taught me, I figured I'd get into the restaurant. With a mask.

By way of explanation, even though I'm perfectly correct, I don't have to wear a mask in the house, except when Mrs lefty's feeling kinky. So I don't feel like wearing one when occasionally permitted outside.

NO. NO. No. N. No mask.
I don't NEED a mask.
I didn't have to wear one 2 weeks ago - why now?
They're foul. They're wrong. They make my nose sweat. And they stink.

So I got a gold star from Mom, who loved the pizza. Mrs lefty said I was allowed to remain alive (at least til the evening).

The small strip mall with Lowes has NO parking left. Hundreds and hundreds of spots, all full. A large store - all empty. I'm starting to shake, moreso. Breathing deeply, I agree to go to Bob's, where they always have the stuff we're looking for.

Except this time, when Bob's is completely sold out of everything we need. Never mind, we run into someone we haven't seen in years. In the next aisle, we run into someone we haven't seen in months. I wanted to leave before we ran into Mom, who we saw a few hours earlier. All of them came from Lowes, where they couldn't park.



I did my weekly check on visiting my favorite places. Both restaurants still don't deliver to tables, although one does in 3 stores in PA, all on the other side of the state. Idiot Governor thinks the Flying AIDS leaves the state from west to east.

I'm so desperate, I want to visit Guitar Center.
I pulled up their site, where half the screen announced BLACK LIVES MATTER.
Ok, good to see another corporation spouting the required rhetoric.
Currently there is only curb service. I have absolutely no idea how you try out a guitar at the curb, but who am I to question the wisdom.
Their plan for opening was that they would keep everything clean. They won't TUNE the guitars, but they'll clean them.

The customers and staff will wear masks (a grave improvement in looks) and the staff would help the customers at an appropriate distance. YES SIR - THAT'S A STRATOCASTER. IT'S A DAMN FINE GUITAR. WHAT? YES, I HAVE 2 AT HOME. CRANK IT UP! WHAT? I CAN'T TURN THE AMP ON BECAUSE YOU'RE STANDING TOO CLOSE TO IT.

Perhaps I'll wait.

The end of the day was picking up the medicine the doctors gave me.
We got to the pharmacy on time. But they require masks too.
Life is cruel.