Your love is like poison sumac
I've mentioned Mrs. lefty has an almost intimate relationship with ESN - Every Shopping Network. The guide graph of tv shows has actual listings for which product each network is selling, or worse, which selling person is on. As scary as this is, what gets me is that she knows them and/or the products. So while waiting for a show, she looks up who's on and watches. "Oh, I love this lady - she's so nice" or "Check out these vacuums." It's all so wrong.
I try, gently, to urge her to put on something else.. anything else. I ask nicely. I grumble. I make vomiting noises. Sometimes the dog and I scream and dance across the living room. Rarely is any of this successful. Today they were selling watches. They were roughly the size of footballs and must've used a belt to hold them to your arm. Looking at it, it would take about a year to figure out how to tell time, if possible. There are no numbers around it, which makes the lack of hands sensible. There are some small indicators, but they are for blood pressure and how many pounds overweight you are. They'd be kinda decent looking if they were shrunk down to... I dunno... watch size. But then you'd still have to look at your phone to tell what time it is.
After "I just want to check it out for a minute," I was wondering how it could possibly get worse. Unfortunately my question was about to be answered. <-- foreshadowing
To Tell the Truth.
To Tell the Truth was a game show that started airing in 1956, in black and white. So naturally there had to be a new version, because there's not an original idea left in Hollywood. There were alleged celebrities on the panel, but I'll be damned if I knew who they were. One was an over-the-top drag queen. I'm not sure I want to know why this queen is a celebrity. The host's mother had her own chair and occasionally fielded questions.
TV is scraping the bottom of the barrel. Unfortunately they've scraped the bottom of the barrel away. It's come to the point where The Twilight Zone is the only realistic show left on tv.
But let's not restrict hell to tv, no sir... the number 1 and 2 albums on iTunes are 40 (Queen) and 50 (Joni Mitchell) years old. So not only is there nothing new in Hollywood, but music sucks unbearably.
Today I identify as space junk
Hell Growing Out of Earth
There was no other way to put it: the grass needed to be mowed.
My PTSD came out to visit, and brought 20 of its closest friends. I swear I must've been run over by a mower when I was little. It's only a matter of time til the flashbacks at night. Vets hear helicopters, I hear mowers.
I argued with Wife about the need to mow - after all, we could still see the roof of the 2 story playhouse. She was unmoved and kept threatening to do it herself. So in the end, it's always Guilt.
While there was still light outside, Guilt was doing battle with PTSD, in a 3 ring grudge match. To make things more interesting, something that looked like refusal combined with depression jumped in the ring, conspiring to nail my ass to the couch (moreso). I was rooted in place (moreso). The mere thought of getting up brought on sadness, thoughts of shaving half of my pubic hair, and 10,000 voices screaming NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO.
Once again realizing that whining always fails to mow the lawn, with the help of a 50 mule team, I got off the couch. And immediately failed to locate the battery for the mower. Wife said it was in one of two places, neither of which it inhabited.
I ask where things are a lot. This is because I'm a man and as such, have trouble finding things. Also, I am married to a woman who puts things back in different places every time, so I'm pretty much fscked. Then she'll ask me to get something, which isn't there, after I've run upstairs to save her the trouble. Then she gets mad at me because I can't find it. To be fair, she apologizes (about one time per hundred).
Eventually we found the mower battery, in the upstairs bathroom. I gave up questioning things a long time ago. It showed a full charge... lucky me. It's a great mower, but has some difficulty on grass taller than itself.
My body revolted. I'm often told my body is revolting. The voices pleaded with me to get back on the couch, where I belonged. They reminded me there's cold lemon Snapple in the fridge. There was crying and the sounds of hamster torture. Even my arm hair didn't want to be involved.
"Gee, lefty, you really don't like to mow, do you?"
Halfway through the torture, the mower sounded like it, too, was horribly depressed. It ran, but slowly and sadly. I turned the mower over, because that's what you're supposed to do when it doesn't run right but nothing looked out of place and there were no parts of small children, so I went back to it, It continued to sound depressed so I asked it how it felt about mowing. It seemed dull and listless. Before I gave it Prozac, I checked the battery, which was almost empty. Usually I can mow a number of times on one charge. This time I couldn't complete one. I told the beast that constant charging was bad for the environment, as was a gas mower. It got all silent and sat there, being very low on voltage on purpose.
While I was overjoyed at the ceasing of mowing activities, I know there will be more tomorrow, after the battery gets charged. Was it better to have done it all in one day, like ripping off the bandage quickly, or cut in half? Will I be able to get out of the house tomorrow? It's supposed to be 90 for two days. The mower doesn't have a mask, nor do I, so we're both at risk for the Flying AIDS. At least I got Snapple.
One of the last things you want to feel in the morning, as you're on the toilet, is a 'nip' in the genital area, especially if it's from your neighbor's 5' python. This poor guy will never sit on the toilet again, and I don't blame him. Now the apartment complex will have to hire Toilet Inspectors, to ensure the way is clear whenever someone has to use the loo. Women are advised to do their business standing.
- Egyptian mummies just went on display. There were questions as to whether it was racist to display them
Oh, by the way....
BAGRAM, Afghanistan (AP) — The U.S. left Afghanistan’s Bagram Airfield after nearly 20 years by shutting off the electricity and slipping away in the night without notifying the base’s new Afghan commander, who discovered the Americans’ departure more than two hours after they left, Afghan military officials said.
- "game changer" has not gone away. I need to file some new paperwork, as the last round went invisible
- Scientists clone cow to produce lactose-free milk
- next up: chocolate milk, 2%, and Yoo Hoo
- the debris from a missing plane has been found on a Russian peninsula. It is believed all 28 on board died
- are they having trouble telling? corpses missing?
- I'm not an aircraft crash specialist, although I have seen all 20 seasons of Aircraft Crash Investigation, but I'd think the lack of people walking around would be a good indicator
- A new underwater exploration vehicle can go down further than any other. When it needs to go back up, it drops its lead weights.
- When we're not bombing, we're littering
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