A Minor Setback

 

So, yesterday i posted something that's title had religious overtones in it, namely "You can't skeeze the Lord" and so when I went to youtube today, I was kind of baffled by how every video suggested to me had to do with subjects related to burning in hell for an eternity, or like the one to the left (if my HTML skills are up to par; or it might be above or below...)

And so I have run afoul of the Youtube algorithm again, for sure because I am back to getting a couple dozen hits on my content, rather than the 200 or so I had started to get right after Elon Musk threatened to expose the algorithm's inner workings, and tip a lot of people like myself off as to why this is "so."

I went out to get apple juice and alkaline water to continue the fast and cleanse that I had purposed in my heart to accomplish, due to having eaten "the wrong thing."

For some reason my bike rode to the Shell station, where I guess I had no choice but to buy a couple shots of brandy; I wouldn't want to piss my bike off, right?

I then went up to the Winn Dixie where I saw about 10 police cars with their lights flashing and was informed at the door that I couldn't go inside because there might be a guy in there who had just shot someone and then had ran into there, ostensibly to hide.

"He's probably not hiding in there, he probably intended to go in there so that police might think he was in there, but was intending to escape out some back door then keep running," I said to the cops out front that weren't letting me in.

"You have to think like a criminal," I said.

"Oh, you think like a criminal, do you, what's your name?" asked one of the cops, the skinny one whom I actually recognized and who in turn should have recognized me as being a busker in the Quarter. Beside him stood a fat one.

He had been kind of joking, I figured.

"I'm a fiction writer, and that's the way I would have depicted the scene," I said.

We then had a discussion, during which I didn't probe them for the specifics of what had happened. It probably won't even be in the news if it doesn't support the far left narrative; i.e. if the shooter wasn't a white guy who shot a goddam nightwatchman (you know what I mean) but the upshot was that I couldn't go in there and get some more apple juice and alkaline water and a can of food for Harold.

I still don't understand what actually went on, but when I was leaving I rode past where there was a car that had apparently crashed into a curb, bending the axle of the front wheels it looked like (I'll bet that will be bugging the guy who got shot, if he lives) and there was a female standing there whom I said something to; thinking she might have been a civilian involved in the fray somehow; but then I noticed a gun and whatever else cops wear, on her belt.

"It must suck being shot," she said.

I told her about being shot in the face a few years ago and how the paintball had just glanced off it; and then I rode off to find cat food elsewhere.

So, I rode off to Walgreen's, where i got some food for Harold out of what I could find on the bare shelves there -I had a thought about just stuffing the thing in my pocket, using a motion like my phone had just rung, but I didn't; I paid 2 bucks for the thing instead; which left me just enough to get a 24 ounce beer and still have enough for bus fare to the plasma place Tuesday.

I don't know why I have soured so much on the idea of making my living busking, lately. I need to be really f*** up on acid or drunk and high on weed to even want to face the public these days. I guess I can blame Youtube; and Mark Zuckerberg for that...