Your love is like sudden spurts of blood from any place on your body
There's a square blue packet, about 2" by 2", sitting next to me on the sofa. My heart skips a few thumps. That looks like a condom wrapper! Same color!
Reminder: call the vision place and ask them to change the wrapper for their Lens Wipes. We don't need a problem here, plus you don't want to go putting that on your junk.
Today I identify as a warrantless phone tap from AT&T's feed to the NSA
FBI reveals it uses CIA and NSA to spy on Americans
Read it again.
Clearly unconstitutional. Warrantless. This came from an FBI handbook
Surveillance against people not accused of any crimes.
Remember.... way back... 9-11... we were told the letter agencies weren't communicating....
It must've been a good night last night.
To start, Wife hurt the concrete in the basement, by hitting it with her head. I'm getting pretty good at patching concrete, but you can definitely see the places where I operated on it. I explained that she needed to do something about this, as I don't have the time to keep mixing and patching; I'm a very busy guy, and my sofa gets upset if I'm not sitting on it. Then the dog gets upset if she's not sitting on me. As Head of Household, I have to see to it that everyone's needs get met.
I told Wife that the concrete should go to the hospital, to make sure there's no serious damage. She might want to go too, for fun. We haven't been there since the Great Pneumonia Party of 2022 and they miss us. In fact, the hospital and the shoe stores call to see how she's doing and when she'll come by again. The problem here is that I suggested going. Marital Theory dictates that The Husband is Always Wrong. It's automatic.
I think maybe we should go to the E/R.
Why?
Because of your failed attempt to fly down the steps and your inconsiderate attack on the concrete.
I'm ok.
I'm sure you are, but just in case.....
NO. I'm fine. Thick monkeys live in the Saharan Tropical Playground.
Huh?
I didn't say anything. I'm going to bed.
Hang on a sec - I'm not a doctor, but I've watched all the doctor shows on tv: you don't let a head wound person sleep.
Then I'll stay up.
Maybe just a CAT scan. The dog can come and we'll get a DOG scan.
I'M FINE.
Just one question: why are there cold cuts and soda in the oven?
I'M FINE!
Get some stuff together, we're going to the hospital.
NO. I just want to rest. I promise I won't go to sleep. Can you find my glasses?
Ah, here they are. Or parts of them. Look on the bright side - I found both of the lenses. Unfortunately, only half the frames. You can just hold them up, like opera glasses, and affect a snooty attitude. Pretend you have an iPhone.
I need to clean. I have a lot of chores.
Let me make sure I have this... you had to use 2 canes to get to bed, but you have chores.
I feel better now.
Maybe you should wash all the blood off your head. I can't tell where it's coming from. The blood on the side seems to have coagulated into letters. Let me see..... FSCK YOU. Ah, appropriate.
It's 9am, the next morning. I'm awakened by someone coming into the room and getting into bed. Ah, I think to myself... at least she's not dead and she remembers where the bedroom is.
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She and I both know that, while I was politely insisting on a trip to the E/R, she thought it might be a good idea. Unfortunately because I am Husband, the answer is NO. I need to find a way past the marital mess. Perhaps next time it might go like this:
Are you ok?
Yeah, I hurt the basement again.
I only ask because you're dripping blood all over the floor.
Have you seen my glasses?
You're not going to like this, but I forbid you to go to the E/R.
Who TF do you think you are?
You cannot go and that's final.
Fsck you - I'm leaving NOW.
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Or maybe she calls her mother.....
It's 2 in the morning... are you ok?
Yeah, I just fell down the steps and hit my head.
That's terrible - what can I do?
You can give me the recipe for those delicious chocolate chip cookies you make.
Maybe you should go to the hospital.
Yeah, you're probably right. Bye.
Completely unrelated to concrete, I hope, is that Wife moved the trash bins around. Now I can't tell which is for trash and which is for recyclables. I have to stand there and think about it for a while, then hope I got the right one. If I ask her to put them back, I'll get The Look. Maybe I'll suggest we grab a crayon and label them.
Completely unrelated to trash, I hope, is garlic. We live on the stuff. Just the other day Wife was kind enough to reheat some pizza for me. I put on some garlic and, regardless of the fact that I didn't start eating and stopped to make her a sandwich, I could literally taste garlic. That's a new one, I thought. Wife said yes, she put garlic on the pizza when she heated it. Oh. Now there are two large applications of garlic on the pizza, which explains how I could taste it without taking a bite. After I almost finished the pizza, I brushed my teeth 4 times, drank a bottle of bourbon then a bottle of mouthwash, brushed my teeth again, showered twice, and in the morning I could still taste garlic.
Where was I?
Oh yeah. I was heating up the last of the pizza and went to get the garlic. It wasn't with the spices. Then I looked where the other spices were. No luck. I tried by the front door. Nope. I finally gave up and asked her where the garlic was this week. On top of the fridge, of course. How could I be so dumb as to not look there for the garlic?
It turns out I wasn't the only one aggravated by the Sudden Garlic Repositioning. As she walked by the fridge, both the garlic and the duck sauce (don't ask) jumped off the fridge right at her. She was, as they say in France, not amused.
Bless her, though... she never knows where her phone is, but she frequently remembers where the new location of Stuff is. She can lose entire days, but can shop without a list. She just has this ... need(?) to move or rearrange stuff. Thankfully we bought a car large enough that she can't park it in the house. Plus the 74 Camaro in the dining room takes up all the space.
This has so many layers to it.President Giveaway gave them $80 billion (under the Inflation Reduction Act). Billion, with a B. The republicans want to gut the funding. Interestingly, the article mentioned the cost to the deficit for rescinding the funding, but not the cost of the $80 billion. The IRS is a mess, and way behind. Their power is frightening. Libertarians want them shut down - it says so on the platform. The Fair Tax Act would abolish the IRS. Gee, the republicans seem to have borrowed something from the libertarians. Also remember that legislation names are the exact opposite: Fair Tax Act? Patriot Act? Inflation Reduction Act?
Lastly, the article has some interesting points on income-based discrimination. Let's just say that people with more zeroes in their income get audited less frequently.
The U.S. Can't Make Enough Plutonium Triggers for Its Nuclear Warheads
Something like 20 years ago, I got tickets to a dual-headlining show with Stevie Ray Vaughan and Jeff Beck. They did their sets and came out at the end to jam. That night Jeff was under the weather and there was no jam. Sad, but I got to see my heroes. Now, 20 years later, one could say they're touring again. What's worse - dying from bacterial meningitis or driving a helicopter into a mountain? These and other questions perplex me. They sometimes keep me awake at night. Wife is tired of the 4am "GODDAMMIT - turn the chopper around and don't fly into that mountain!"
Saw this coming, but didn't think they were this stupid. Stupid me. But I feel this is ceaseless bluster; how would anyone know, unless your neighbors 'turned you in.' Alabama will soon lead the nation in women falling down steps. And incest.
We should send busloads of illegal aliens to Alabama. No, wait, that's something else. We could send busloads of pregnant illegal aliens...
You. Own. You. :repeat
My weather app... well.... I guess I check it because I'm either a eternally hopeful or a masochist. Or an idiot. It had clouds for the next day. And the next day. Wait - the next week. And rain. After swiping rapidly, we are not scheduled for sun for over 2 weeks. I don't remember this from my childhood. I have to call the police and tell them to get ready, plus double the SWAT teams. Whereas extreme heat causes problems, so does the lack of sun. Oh yeah, if you don't already, take vitamin D, which, strangely, helps with not getting enough sun. Possibly with depression too. And it makes your pancreas jump up and down and sing. Ok, I made that up (about vitamin D and the sun). No, wait.... pancreas.
Hey, we're Big Pharma and if the government can't be bothered to give us lots of money, we can't be responsible for 'forgetting' to send the data to the FDA. We're very busy here. Covid, you know. COVID. PANIC! SHUT DOWN BUSINESSES! Don't worry about the man behind the curtain. COVID!
If nothing else, the CDC is consistent: we didn't know squat then, and we don't know squat now.
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