Laughing All The Way To The Bank

About to walk across the street to the bank. I want to see if I can get a personal loan in order to buy a really nice bike for around a thousand bucks, and then maybe make payments of around a hundred bucks for the next year.

Over the course of that year, the bike would have paid for itself in saved bus fares, but mostly in saved time otherwise spent walking here and there. Time is money.

Plus it's always safer riding through neighborhoods at 13 miles per hour rather than being almost a sitting duck, plodding along at 4 miles per hour, carrying a guitar and a backpack.

I would usually bide my time and rely on the Law of Attraction to bring a thousand dollar bike to me, along with a distressed seller, who might really need the $220 bucks that I might have at the time...

But I think making monthly payments might help to recreate the mindset I once had when my life was more regular.

But I'd better get going towards the bank, and be sure to laugh at the skeezers out front who might have about half of their "benefits" left for this month, that they got 2 days ago...hahaha!

Raw Steak For Eddie?

I was up with the Sun this morning and I went and hung some clothing to dry and then went into the multi-purpose room one of the purposes of that room apparently on Friday mornings is to screen episodes of "Leave It to Beaver" -the late 60's (I believe) era sitcom.

The Dirtiest Thing Said On TV Pre 1970?

I've seen my share of that show, which was already in reruns by the time it entered our home, in black and white, through our family's Zenith Color TV.

Especially once I had attained the age of "the Beaver," who is the namesake character of that sitcom, despite being mentioned last during the opening credits, almost like an afterthought.."(...and, oh yeah,) Jerry Mathers, as The Beaver!"

I think the stars were whomever played Ward and June, and the rest were in order of their age. Unless there was a minor character like Beaver's teacher, who might be billed beneath the 8 year old Mathers...

But, maybe it was in 1969, that I was deemed old enough to watch a show about a boy my age. (The "summer of love" sorta rings a bell, haha.) I was 7.

I think at least one Camaro of teens left from our street en route to the Woodstock festival of music and love. I think it was Billy Curtis, possibly with a friend and their two girlfriends. 

And I think they wound up coming back after encountering a traffic jam and a reported heavy thunderstorm, which now could be fact checked, perhaps.

I think they just wimped out at some point. I think they each had a girlfriend in; and because of; the car. Those might have started whining about the car not going 60, and having no 60 mph breeze to cool their pretty faces.

Then, of course, a downpour that forces the windows to have to be rolled up, turning the Camaro into a steam bath -the kind of steam bath in which you have to share the air with your girlfriends..

Then there was undoubtedly a "who's it gonna be, again?" summit.

And with a "Santana, Jefferson Airplane... Hendrix...I forget who else," the Camaro was spun around, the windows cracked open, and Billy and Bobby Curtis written into history as being whimps, at the generational level.

One was making six figures "in computers," at last check, and ditto for Bobby, who became a pharmacist...

I couldn't find a volume down button, I was the only one in the sacred heart multi purpose room. 

It was my intent to do the "morning papers" as per the rule set by Julia Cameron in "The Artist's Way" book, of doing these longhand pages of three; keeping the pen moving, until the third one is complete "first thing in the morning," every morning -non negotiable.

These are thrown in a box never to be read by you for, like; 10 years.

This allows you to have an attitude of; I'll never see this again; when struggling to keep the pen in motion during gaps between words in the head.

Well, I gotta say that I'd never tried to write the morning papers with Leave It To Beaver playing loudly in my ears, and a retreat to the sun room (actually a greenhouse type cove) only seemed to amplify the Beav's voice.

I can't think of any show that has come out in the past couple decades that could make the pen stop, and me get up and shuffle across the sun room floor to lean into the main room to see what was going to happen next. 

"Ward, I Think You Were A Little Hard On The Beaver Last Night..."

Or, in this instance; what Eddie Haskell's black eye was going to look like, and whether or not he would put a raw steak on it.

A Tragedy For His Family

 The Charlie Kirk thing..

His Deer Rifle

He was most likely aiming for Charlie's head and his shot was a little low.

They recovered the weapon, so they already knew what kind of bullet the officials with metal detectors have probably found by now, lodged or buried somewhere.

He got rid of the weapon ostensibly so he would not be seen carrying a rifle. 

I wonder how heart-wrenching it was for the guy to have to part with his deer 30 odd 6 rifle with a scope..

It's a tragedy for his wife and the two daughters. 

Unless, behind the scenes, he was an abusive narcissistic tyrant and terrible father who kept them living in fear of his righteous, holy belt, and now they feel liberated...

Maybe they will be shopping for penises for the girls pretty soon, and looking for surgeons, now that Charlie is out of the way..

I have only seen a few hours of his "Prove Me Wrong" college campus tour, but I lean toward it being a tragedy for the family, based upon my reading of the guy.

He wasn't just the things he represented or "presented" to the world, you know; white, Christian, conservative, non smoking, drinking nor swearing, Republican... etc, etc -right on down "the list."

But I think because he was so tall and large, he became like a billboard for them.

Who hasn't taken at least one pot shot at a billboard, who has ever owned even a bb gun?

The sudden loss of blood to the head must have created kind of a beheading sensation, whereby Charlie Kirk could easily have been conscious and a ripe candidate for one of those "tunnel of light" dissolving-into-the-source-of-all-knowledge-wisdom-and-understanding experiences where he was beholding a radiance otherworldly and filled with an indescribable joy...

And all that for a guy who didn't even smoke weed!!

Would that all our deaths be so good (I'm talking to the living).

Maybe Charlie felt himself floating up out of his body and wound up looking down from over the frantic scene - people running off in every direction except towards where the gunshot came from..

Maybe from Charlie's perspective the blue haired progressive liberals seemed to be sinking down and away; descending into... somewhere...

The First Order of Things

 I've been having discussions with meta AI about the shadow banning of this blog beginning in 2020 after I posted an audio song that I did which was critical and somewhat disparaging of one of the candidates in the upcoming presidential election.

Somehow, my view went from 600 per day (the result of "a million monkeys," searching on a million computers, over the course of 24 hours; with many of them probably chancing upon this blog after searching for a keyword like "skeezer") 

Of course 90% of them might have landed on the front page, and thought "this is not what I want (not in the least, yuk!) and backed out.... of it 

But, nonetheless that figure dropped overnight from 4 to 6 hundred, to an average of 16, which happens to be the number of my followers. They have demonstrated their incorrigibility by becoming followers, so, might as well let them see the posts, and the fact that they are reading a blog that only 16 people notice, not 600, well that will be a tip off that blogs critical of a certain candidate in the upcoming election are not popular at all, type of thing...

For, the search engine began hiding my blog from The world at Large, beginning right after I posted something critical of one of the candidates in the upcoming presidential election of 2020, in the USA. 

Meta AI told me that if I "correct course;" (Meta AI's words; not mine) then the algorithm will stop doing what Google denies that it ever does).

A s**tty job of correcting course, so far...

The first order of the day has to do with the orange bucket, visible in the photo above, taken from where I sit.

This is pursuant to one of the top five items on my to-do list, made from where I sit.

Focusing on the immediate surroundings, (dangling verb clauses, and) next; I have to to get some Saran wrap, and some live crickets from Petco.

Then, I will have me a genuine DIY lizard trap!

I have placed my grow light next to the closet where palmetto bugs have a community; and hopefully if I put some rocks and some places to hide (from the human and his furry minion) and put the plant light on during daylight hours, the lizards will thrive. 

Net In Yahoo 

I am going to name the biggest lizard Benjamin, and I will think of the palmetto bugs in the closet as Hamas terrorists.

I think this would be the correct course...

This is a do-it-yourself lizard trap brown anoles are going for over $30 for a 10-pack of them, shipped live.

And, while this might be the lazy Man's approach to the problem of palmetto bugs starting to get a little too populous, I found this bucket for free in a dumpster, and I will get Saran wrap and crickets.

Basically, you allow the lizards to go in after the crickets through a small hole cut out of the Saran wrap.

This hole in the transparent film, they can then not relocate, when frantically trying to leave the bucket because of the arrival of a a human,who is looking down upon their cricket party like a god.

This is kind of how some people have drowned after taking a cold plunge through a hole in the ice (to revitalize themselves and increase their longevity). It all looks the same when they look up and try to find the hole, exasperated by them freaking out, as if a giant god was staring down at them...

Then, you collect up lizards; release them under your grow light, and start scolding Harold with a rolled up newspaper, if ever bothers Benjamin or any other of the "ATF" reptiles...

That's about it for now.

I am coming up to speed on the use of modern technology, and it has only taken me 20 minutes to make this post which bodes well for the future of this blog...

And, now that I have discussed things with meta AI (which did admit that when I'm chatting with it, it is reading all of my Facebook posts and viewing all of my friends posts looking at everything I've shared what I've liked what I did not like what my friends like what they have shared and in a matter of a few seconds is responding to me as the person that I obviously am, who's soul has been laid bear, by about 40 GB of data..) I feel even more up to speed. 

Finger Painting

Ihave done some 3 or 4 finger paintings with the paint I got at the Family Dollar.

I just have yellow, blue and red.

I found out that you can use your nails as kind of an eraser by scraping right down to the substrate paper.

I put the above one, done whilst tripping on a whole 60 grams of mushroom gummies, in a frame with a glass covering, so that the reflection of a lamp that was lit about ten feet behind me, off the glass, is creating the wildfire, seen ablaze in the valley, and threatening to cross the Los Angeles River, right behind the Golden Gate Bridge.

The city to the far right has been incinerated, like almost everything to the far right in California.

The Sierra Nevada range of mountains in the distance are all in volcanic eruption...

23 Hours

 ... until I get food money.

I'm kinda brimming with vitality; making me seriously consider taking the bus to the plasma place across the river, on a lark.

They can't give me the results of the blood sample I was required to give the last time I went there, over the phone.

I'm pretty sure they would have notified me if I had HIV or syphilis, since that would be a matter of public health -not only could I not donate, but might want to get something like that looked at, type of thing..

It would be somewhat of a gamble. If they took my plasma, I would be returning with a couple cans of Fancy feast for Harold out of the 75 bucks I would get, and if not, I'd be just about done with the whole process..

I found out that the best way to remove "forever" molecules from the bloodstream is to donate plasma and let the centrifuge pull them out, through the force of gravity. That had been the deal clincher in my deciding to give plasma donation another "spin."

Otherwise, I could just do a one day fast before returning to the keto diet that has me feeling like a million bucks..

I guess that depends on whether I stay up for the next 12 hours watching one YouTube video after another, or if I'm somehow awake and well rested by noon...

The replacement laptop has been a disappointment so far.

I thought a T460 would be better than the T420 it replaced but, 7 years newer means stripped down and minus the deprecated features like a DVD/CD player, extra USB ports, etc.

The hard drive is even solid state, so I couldn't pop the old drive in and resume computing like nothing happened.

Everything is geared towards cloud computing it seems, with less emphasis on the size of the storage device. That's just more data to loose in the event of a physical catastrophe, why not store your whole life in the cloud, where the data can be sifted through, er, in order that the AI engine can learn all about you, in order to better tailor their services to you, type of thing...

The Japanese Art of Tidying Up