Another brainstorm, after having found this book somewhere..
As daunting a tast as learning cartooning comprehensively seems; I think I will create just one or two "characters" and then just use them as my main one's as it will be enough of a challenge just to learn how to draw them from different angles and perspectives...yeah..
This is the Saturday night in between Good Friday and Even Better Sunday...
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The Easter bunny is going to have hidden little chocolate eggs all over my apartment.
I remember, as about an 8 year old, going to my dad's tool room, which was also the big freezer for sides of beef room and the stacked cases of Miller Lite beer room.
I returned to the living room with a screwdriver, and was about to start taking the screws off the back of the Zenith color TV, thinking that the Easter bunny would have thought that inside the TV would be a great place to hide eggs.
"No, the Easter bunny wouldn't put any eggs in there," my dad said. "He wouldn't have time to open the back of our TV; he has a lot of houses to go to...he's in a hurry..."
I often try to recollect what my state of mind was, back when I believed in a fictitious rabbit that hid candy in our house every Easter Sunday. I guess I actually believed in the thing; yet; I think the very same "voice" -that is technically the negative of a voice (since it speaks only when all other voices are silenced) was aware that, the supposition of the existence of the Easter bunny raised more questions than it answered...
As a seven year old, it never dawned upon me to ask my parents how the Easter bunny got in our house, and even why he chose one particular brand of commercially sold chocolate eggs to hide in our living room. And, why only in our living room and how were our parents so sure that it would't have hidden some extra eggs, say in the basement...
I don't recall ever having any persistent curiosity about the Easter bunny. Like, the day after Easter I don't think I ever wondered aloud to my parents: "I wonder what the Easter bunny does the rest of the year' or any such muses. That was probably because my attitude might have been: who cares, it doesn't bring chocolate those days, so, out of sight, out of mind, type of thing, perhaps...
That being said; there were little chocolate eggs hidden all over my place this morning...
Jacob and I went out to play at Lilly's this afternoon. This was unusually early for us, 4 pm. and I noticed as we were unloading our stuff and starting to walk to the spot that I had a missed call from Lilly.
I was pretty sure that it had been her calling to protest our having played from 11:30 until after 2 a.m. the night before, and she might even have been calling to inform me that Jacob and I were hence banned from playing at the Lilly Pad for maybe a month or so, like the last time...
It really was my fault for having gone and set up at 11:30 after Lilly had chastised me for doing such probably a year ago. I guess I was thinking that that was a year ago, and it would be alright.
In the meantime some black guy had sat on the stoop where we play and had unpacked what looked like a barber shop out of a large backpack and I think he was intending to offer haircuts to tourists.
We should have just walked up to him and maybe asked him if he would be cool with doing his hair thing one stoop down, so we could play there. Hindsight is 20/20.
Instead I made the mistake of calling Lilly to inform her of the guy.
She went out and ran him away, but then we made the mistake of showing up with our gear whilst he was refilling his backpack with hair care products and clippers and trimmers.
He basically told us that we need not bother setting up to play because the lady had just come and told him he couldn't run his barber shop in front of her house.
To boil it down, he said that, should we set up and be allowed to play, he was going to sue Lilly because, in his opinion "that would be racist."
The race card; of course...
"Well, we're both Italian," I said to the guy.
"What the f** does that matter?!" he said.
"Exactly," I said. "It doesn't matter what you are, it's not about race."
Then, Lilly came out and used the matter of us having played until 2 the previous morning, as an issue to tell us we couldn't play.
I think she was actually afraid of the guy invoking the "R" word against her, either on social media or in any other way...
We moved down a block to the green door and had a good jam for the couple hours we had before Jacob had to go do other things...
"That would be racist!!" What a stupid ignorant "The View" watcher he was, to have delivered that of himself..
It would be easy to blame that on his phone, and what comes over it all day, every day.
But, at some point it's incumbent upon the individual to figure out how he is being manipulated and just not ""go there."
We are playing really well, I'm starting to feel that familiar "audience in my hands like putty" sensation while playing and, it's about time...
I think marijuana usage had delayed that particular evolution, the past couple decades...
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Good morning everyone; it's about 8:12 in the evening, central standard time...
I spent about 8 bucks on a bottle of Barefoot cabernet sauvignon last night around the approach of midnight, thinking it might be better than the $5.49 bottle of Gallo.
The other 8 dollar choice was the Yellow Tail brand.
Both of these, I have found to be good values, being just as good as the just under $20 bottles. The Yellow Tail, in particular, benefits from the exchange rate between US dollars and whatever kangaroo money they use down there. Plus, the vineyards are not on as expensive real estate as the one's in California.
California wine has their Governor Newsome's fiscal hijinks baked into the price tag. This should have detered me from getting the Barefoot, but I suppose I had some lingering brain fog from having had to switch off the sardine fast, after having mismanaged the monthly fish fund..
I may have diverted too much money to the wine account.
Winn Dixie was going out of business and had wine 75% off. A rare opportunity to try bottles normally priced at around $50 that are worth every penny at that price. But, having them for sale at $12.50 was, in effect, an insideous way to get me to spend 50% more on the nightly bottle of Cabernet..
There are few meals more delightful than a good can of sardines and a Federalist Cabernet...
The Barefoot wine was disappointing, and I have noticed that almost all the 2023 vintage has been pretty poor.
That makes sense, as these were made during the "pandemic" when the grapes probably had to be picked by gloved hands on mask wearing people, picking 6 feet from the next person; and probably nursing sore arms from intra-muscular injections, if that is indeed how that gene altering, vulnerability to the next strain they create producing, concoction was administered. I don't know.
I have the vivid memory of having to get a Covid19 test, and bring proof of the "negative" result to Harrah's Casino ,so I could cash in some chips that I'd gotten in my tip jar, before the economic war broke out between the tech and pharma oligarchs against the oil tycoons.
Taking every automobile off the streets of the world was indeed a stroke of genius. Kind of funny to think of the masses cowering in terror inside their dwellings, just because some billionaire wanted to teach some OPEC billionaires a lesson.
I had my little paper document indicating that I hadn't gotten "the virus," (did anyone, really, or was that the "seasonal" flu just repurposed, with things like ivermectin kept out of the public consciousness to insure that there would be enough "victims" to keep up the ruse?) and was able to get past the masked security lady at Harrah's.
Next, I encountered a group of about 25 people, who were gathered just beyond the entrance, and who broke into a thunderous ovation as I walked past.
They must have thought I'd gotten the jab, and they were applauding...that. Wow, given what we know now.
These were the "useful idiots" I had heard so much about, I thought. "Tribal stupidity," anyone?
They believed the mainstream media narrative. It was on "every" channel and even PBS and NPR, so...
I was tempted to hold up my proof of negative result and announce: "I just got a negative test result so I could come in here and cash out some chips; there ain't no way I'm taking that experimental therapy. With the main reason being; well...you guys..."
But I just let it go and let them think I had switched "teams" and was just awaiting further orders from my antenna TV..
And, so I also let it go here...
My food money came in at midnight but, by then I had already had a 5.5 ounce tin of Sardinas brand sardines with a $3.99 + tax bottle of shiraz from Trader Joe's. The next bottle up price-wise is the Trader Joe's brand coastal Cabernet Sauvignon at $5.99 + tax.
After a 10% taxation, the total comes to $6.58.
I had counted my cash and had exactly $6.58.
It seemed like a no-brainer, when adhering to the Law of Attraction to just pay no mind to details; I should have just emptied my pockets onto the register as if it were preordained, but..
I would have been walking out penniless, with a really nice red wine as good as any "under $20" bottle..but I had balked at the "penniless" part. Was I going to need to ride a street car or something?
So, there I sat with the lesser wine and decided to stay in and work on recording my guitar along with a metronome then overdubbing drums played "live" by me on the keyboard along with it.
Then I had a smörgåsbord of drum beats that I could switch between measures and try against different guitar rhythms. The measures or bars that came out "perfectly" I could make repeat and create whole new songs out of.
That fun must have lasted till around 4 a.m. because here I was, waking up at around 12:30 p.m. on this Wednesday..
I look forward to hearing what I created. This is another new phenomena. I had habitually been reluctant to play back the previous night's work the next day; afraid that I wouldn't respect it in the morning, type of thing...
It was immediately out in the sun with me, after I brewed a cup of coffee, using enough grounds for a pot for just one large cup, to do the morning papers, as prescribed by Julia Cameron in her "The Artist's Way" book that I'm still in week 1 (of 12) in. But I am fervently and conscientiously working that "week 1" program.
The 3 handwritten pages (which I'm supposed to file away without re-reading) just came rolling off my 1.6mm ball point; words appearing like on a screen at the back of my forehead; like a teleprompter channeling Bob Dylan or Leonard Cohen...or... Jimmy Buffet?
Fine, Indeed!
I just started liking and appreciating fine point pens after having hated them all my life, and looking askance at those who did like them...
You have to press much more lightly with them and basically write smaller. I used to hate the thin line they made, especially when writing on a single sheet of paper upon a hard surface. I thought that they accentuated any jerkiness in one's penmanship, which they indeed do, but only if you are pressing down hard on them.
I had discovered the Bic Crystal® ball points that have the largest (1.6mm) points on them, and writing on sheets that had the padding of extra sheets them, alowed the pen to sink in a bit and produce thick, and well controlled strokes...
But now I have become pretty good with a fine point. What a crazy life...
Now that I am a firm believer in The Law of Attraction, I'm finding things as soon as I feel gratitude for the possibility of me finding them...
I came back in and decided to raise the blinds on my windows so that, the Brazilian flag, used like a curtain on one window and the Mardi Gras mask face in another one would be fully lit up at night when my indoor lights shine through them. Last night I noticed that the blinds were blocking about half of each of them..
I had found the Brazilian flag, folded up and sitting on a brick column the morning I went out to find 20 dollars. Yup, I had found in myself a wellspring of gratitude over the possibility of going out and finding 20 dollars (just about totally broke, but not feeling in any way lacking) one morning probably 2 years ago now. I walked along just kind of looking around, and decided to take the Brazilian flag home and use it as a window curtain. I then walked a little further where those very same Brazilians can often be seen standing by their parked pickup trucks listening to music and drinking Corona beer. And, there was a 20 dollar bill just laying in the dirt...
So, I raised the Venetian blinds so that my display will be fully visible at night; then noticed one of my plants being a little brown. I watered it, then decided to move the other plant to the window sill as spring is upon us and I had just raised the blinds to let even more light in. And in lifting the plant, I discovered my white and brown pieces of charcoal that I was making drawings with a couple years ago before misplacing my charcoal...
There it was, all along. But it was only one thing leading to another -letting in sunlight, moving plants around that led to the discovery.
"When it's time to resume charcoal art, you will know. Trust, and obey..." type of thing...
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A clean slate; a new day.
Woke up around 10:30 a.m. not sure that it was Sunday until turning on the TV to see if they were talking about the rain coming down like cats and dogs outside my window..
I knew it was Sunday as soon as I saw the bull riding, or whatever it was, on channel 6.
I made a change to this script so that I don't have to worry about the self reflexive pronoun of "I" being rendered in bold when it's in the middle of a sentence, I didn't want that...
The bolding is to be used on "proper" nouns, I think they are called. People, places and things that rate being capitalized. These are the items that can stand to be brought to the skimmer's attention; allowing them to scroll quickly and be able to tell if I wrote anything about Sacred Heart Apartments, for example..
It's also good for people whose only interest in reading is to see if they have been mentioned.
The proper noun capitalizer is good for this...
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I'm looking at my calendar and it's Thursday, March 26th and will be, for another 4 hours and 18 minutes..
A whale has the whole ocean; but, when you get to the bottom of it, it lingers at the surface. Hard to fathom...
I just completed a walk around the block; which included walking past a gaggle of about a dozen people hanging around the Holy Ground bar; none of whom acknowledged me, nor any of them I, I thought as soon as the thought of: "I'm being ignored," tried to gather energy in my consciousness.
There is a big difference between "I'm being ignored," and: "They're ignoring me..."
The latter would be explainable by the fact that, they are pretty much the same dozen or so people who might be there next Thursday before sundown, and whom I recognized at least half of, from seeing them last Thursday before sundown.
I have, or try to have, no qualms or shame in picking a snipe of tobacco off the ground in front of them all..
And, I suppose skeezers -not me; but skeezers- do such a brazen thing as a ploy to get one of them to offer a cigarette, out of pity perhaps. But that becomes entangled in the social fabric as, the other 11 or so would be witness to this; and so the benefactor might have to justify, not his imparting the gift of one of his American Spirit's™ -maybe it's well known that the guy makes pretty good money, as per his braggin's after a few beers, but his falling for "one of the oldest skeezing tricks in the world."
Because of the presumed shame in someone who is picking up a butt right in front of them, as they sit with a yellow American Spirit™ box on the picnic table in front of them, they might indeed feel they are being manipulated, or at least having their "heart strings" pulled, by the poor guy.
I always decline any offers of cigarettes when that happens. I say something like; I think it might eventually get me to quit smoking by putting me through the humbling rite of sniping in front of people.
"I have this internal conversation that goes like: OK, you want a puff of tobacco right now; and there's one right there on the sidewalk...but, you're too proud, aren't you. There's pretty ladies there, too...
Then I just figure that the price to pay for tobacco is that..
But, I'm also aware that people might think I'm trying to evoke pity, so that's why I don't take cigarettes if they're offered. Plus, I usually just pick up American Spirit™ snipes. Their tobacco, along with being flavorful enough to have gotten me to 'un-quit' smoking, about 20 years ago, now; is packed in tightly, so that if there's a half inch left, that's enough to get you a righteous nicotine fix. You really don't have to smoke much more. I think they package cigarettes so as to imply "this is how much you smoke each 'time'" OK?
That's probably them trying to get the public addicted..."
And then I go back to Sacred Heart with maybe some weed in the size of a raisin and some tobacco.
Maybe after: "Yo, dude; I don't feel manipulated, I know you said you don't take cigarettes, but, here...(reaching towards me holding 2 American Spirit's™)"
Now, that's how you skeeze!
So, I got back and it's almost 9 at night and I have had 1 grapefruit and 4 cups of coffee and a hefty shot of an herbal tea the color of kratom...
I'm going to be flat broke if I think about it... I must feel grateful and happy; maybe the tire I posted on Facebook Marketplace has attracted a buyer at $20. It's an almost new tire, by my judgement. It doesn't have the little nipple things that brand spanking new tires, at least I think used to come with. Little pins of rubber that I guess show that the tire's never been driven on. This one has all the tread and is just a bit shiny on the bottom. Like a fallen tree that people walk over to traverse a stream out in nature, maybe.
I have had the bane of a social media mafia of teens, I would guess, f-ing with me "hard," as they might say; on Facebook Marketplace over the tire. They seem to be doing the equivalent of calling store managers to ask if they have Prince Albert™ (loose tobacco) "by the sack" (or "bag")
And after he answers in the affirmative (you've been in his store and know he has it) you say something like: "Well, you better let him go; that must hurt!" and hang up..
Then maybe you get a friend to call back inquiring about King Arthur sardines, 20 minutes later.
In 2026 this have evolved to expressing a great amount of interest in the tire, then seeing how long you can string the guy along and take up of his evening, through a series of; "I had to drop a friend off downtown, but I'll be there in 15 to 20 min" type of posts. The idea is to paint the picture of a skinny guy with long hair and a hat, standing all evening in front of Sacred Heart Apartments, babysitting a tire that's new but doesn't have the nipples...
And then, in the wee hours of the morning, punctuating the gag with; "Oh, I just checked; I need an R16, yours is an R17; sorry," type of thing...
The tip off to me, after 3 or 4 such contacts is the initial: "I really, really need that tire!!" Their over exuberance over a tire suggests that they are trying to get me emotionally invested in the process. To get me pumped!
I'm supposed to think: Wow, I'm definitely going to sell the tire tonight! This as a primer for me to stand out front waiting for a white corolla "any minute now" to come down Lopez Street. Even after dark. Even though it's after midnight. The guy really really needs the tire; and has just been having the worst luck trying to get here, type of thing...
Yeah. Thursday and I don't know what I'm going to eat, if anything, on top of the grapefruit and 4 cups of coffee; make that 6.
It's time to leave this here after running the new and improved Python3 script; which now features a comma in the format of the "You've just read X words" printed at the bottom. All I had to do was add a ": ," in the print statement and it puts the comma in 2,877 for example. It wasn't doing that before, so I fed the script to Meta AI and said something like: "you are a programmer and need to only change this script so that the {word_count} variable will print in the conventional, more readable by humans, form"
I thought I was going to have to massage the word_count variable so that it had the comma inserted into its string, and then print that. But the function that counts words didn't have to manage commas; it just counts the words and returns it as an integer. I wasn't sure how I was going to get it to put a comma between every 3 numerals..
The print statement can, with the addition of a colon and a comma. I would have been digging in the "Learn Python3" book, looking at ways to split the variable into 2 with one just keeping track of the "thousands" and the other counting from 0 to 999.
This would have been a delightful evening spent, learning how to become a better "coder." Instead it took less than 10 seconds for me to learn to "Change the print statement in line 87 to..." and now there should be a comma in the number of words this is; even if it exceeds 100 trillion.
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Yesterday
I have made a speedy recovery from the way I felt after substituting the turkey that I'd only paid $3.45 for, at Winn Dixie, and then had gorged on, washing it down with a $25 bottle of wine that I'd paid $6 and change, for..
It was while sitting there the next day, with the back and sides of my head aching; that I searched online and found that particular brand of turkey, coming in at #2 on a list of "8 turkey brands to avoid."
"Everything that's wrong with modern food production" is how they described it...
But after a day of not eating, I went back to a big tin of sardines and some goat cheese as a morning meal; and I'm 98% better already...
I could walk through the lobby here at Sacred Heart and merely say out loud: "Isn't he the biggest a**hole ever born?" out of context, and whoever was there, milling about, would look up in unison from their phones and say: "Tell me about it!"
They would assume I was referring to he-who-can't-be-named (because the syllables are too triggering to about half the population). Who else could "he" be?
Lawyers and politicians: "Of course we're telling lies, but they're the lies that are going to put us in power, so shut up!"
The public is gullible; -just ask Elvis, who, after faking his own death, lived an unassuming and content life, out of the public eye (outside of a few hundred sightings worldwide) pretending to be an Argentinian grape grower, before that cigar shaped craft beamed him up, Star Trek style, then shot off into space, faster than possible using any technology known to Man, after writing:: "Elvis has just left the planet" in the sky over Argentina.
Maybe if the people knew the truth, they wouldn't be afraid to enter buildings in New York for fear they might collapse, for no apparent reason, upon them..
And, Today...
Last night, I forgot to grab the spotlight so the sun went down, leaving Jacob and I in the same kind of darkness that has effectively warded off any other buskers who might have thought about playing at the Lilly Pad..
Amazingly enough, a group came along with about 3 of them illuminating us with phones and, I think shooting videos at the same time. I am about to text Jacob to see if they "dropboxed" them to his fancy i-phone.
We were playing really well -enough to plod on for another half hour or so in the dark...which produced the only 20 dollar bill of the 3 hour night in the tip jar. It was a chore to switch harmonicas; trying to read the half worn off from playing key signatures on the fronts of them.
We wound up splitting $46 after probably leaving another 60 or so "on the table." The street was just starting to flood with merry makers and the sound of them was rather positive..
I joked to Jacob that maybe the Zuckerburg types have decided the turn down the temperature of the algorithms with the knob less in the direction of fomenting division and hatred between the people -maybe that has served its purpose; the war is on, so now we can be made happy and able to connect with each other in positive ways.
It might still be a nefarious way to unify people in preparation for the bringing back of military conscription.
You know, draft all the able young men, er -except those of Islamic faith, as that would introduce "loyalty" issues. They can remain, along with the illegal immigrants to watch the shop, hold down the fort (figuratively, of course) and, should we lose a half million white Christians in battle, well, shit happens, right?
I was up and feeling glorious on this day 15 or so of the sardine fast. My body seemed to have forgiven me for the one bag of Famous Amos chocolate chip cookies I ate late last night after having had only one 5.5 ounce tin of Goya wild caught sardines in tomato hot sauce.
They had rung up at the Ideal Market ("se habla fresco" -we speak fresh) at just $2.75 despite being labelled on the shelf at $2.99 + tax.
That must be a secret amongst the Latino community which that store sits in the middle of. A higher price tag to discourage anyone not "in the know" from emptying the shelves, reserving for themselves the benefit of lower prices on Goya products, realized at the register..
The fact that the cashier apparently rang me up as a SNAP customer, as evidenced by the $2.75 having not been taxed, even though I was using hard cold cash, fresh from the tip jar, might have been done out of her habit of seeing me use the SNAP card before it runs out (less than 2 weeks into a given month, lately) and she might have mashed the "SNAP" button on the register reflexively.
I prefer to believe that, either she has been seeing me in there buying only sardines over the past 2 weeks and might think that I am just barely surviving, relegated to eating the cheapest healthy food there is; and I can't afford anything else... and might have waived the tax out of pity; or the sardine fast might be something she knows about, and maybe she gave me a discount as a commendation of the devotion to healthiness that I hope I was exuding, being fresh off of playing some of the best music of my life, for real human beings...
That being said, I then had just enough to eek out a bottle of red wine from Banks Meat Market ("we speak crackhead niggas") diagonally across Broad Street from the Ideal..
All I could think about was double bagging the wine and heavy can of sardines in case I had to swing the bag like a sledgehammer to impact the top of anyone's head, along the half mile walk home. It was right around 10 pm...
The last time I smacked a guy like that, I had only a can of cat food in the bag.
That had gotten the guy (a 20 something white "meth addict" looking guy about my size, but with probably very little muscle tone, from so much time spent nodding on heroin) to stop letting the air out of my rear bike tire, by stunning him for a second; which was enough time for me to move a roller one digit on my combination lock, freeing both it and the chain; quickly providing me with a more formidable weapon, and sending him running.
He must have thought that I would have to walk the bike home with a flat tire, making me a slower, and easier, target somewhere up the road.
One side note: When I got home I found that the can of cat food had been crushed into a more oval than round shape from the impact.
But, I had almost bought one of those "Jesus" candles, along with the cat food -the glass cylinders filled to the brim with wax, with either Jesus or some other holy figure on the front, and a prayer in both English and Spanish on the back. That meth head never knew how close (them being almost a dollar more in the French Quarter) he came to having one of them come down like a sledgehammer on his cranium. And to the irony of it having been a Jesus candle that clocked him.
And, had he died from a brain hemorrhage or whatever; the candle sitting on the evidence table as "the murder weapon" during my trial, rotated, of course so that Jesus would be facing the jury, in his "peace be with you" pose...
But that was in 2022, I believe, and in the middle of the "George Floyd" peaceful protests.
Many roads I've walked since then, and, I really was wondering if I had it in me to fend off a potential mugger in such a way; then have to pour the wine out of the bag and through a sieve to remove the shards of glass, before drinking it, type of thing...
So, the solution seemed to be to take advantage of the wealth of energy that the sardine fast affords, and to jog home, which I did.
The invigorating jam at Lilly's; the sardine only diet; the jog home; the Wim Hof deep breathing practice in direct sunlight each morning; the 3 pages of handwritten journals each morning; the Joe Dispenza "Morning Meditation" each morning; the "Mindful Movement" positive affirmations while you sleep videos each evening...
It all seemed to be adding up to me having become someone who doesn't need to swing things at anyone's head. There was an out..
On the matter of the bottle of red wine "to go with the sardines" having gone way past the point of the sardines, and to the bottom of the bottle...
Um... At least I'm not running out for a hit of crack and a blunt, then coming home and watching porn?
I think I've heard it preached before, though, that stealing a pack of gum from a store is the same thing as murdering someone in the eyes of God; a sin is a sin..
I was never sure how to take that. Never steal even something as trite as gum? Or: you might as well kill "that asshole," because it ain't no worse than bagging a blow pop from Bank's Meat Market...?
Anyways, it's a beautiful Monday morning; the herbal tea I ordered has been "tracked" to my door by 8 pm. tonight, UPS willing.
Jacob has said he won't be able to busk today, but I could go down there and play "unplugged" and probably grab 20 or 30 bucks.
"Good Morning, Starshine" by Oliver (1969) is all it would take on a day like today. My tip jar would be full of glibby glob glooby in short order... (sorry, spell checker...)
I had no sooner pushed away a rogue thought (something like: "You're down to like 8 dollars in cash to last you the next 18 days, what are you gonna do?") and re-entered a state of gratitude than I entered to lobby to learn that the "senior box" bearing my name was amongst the pallet load of them sitting there.
This is food that arrives magically during the last week of each month; and I think it is funded by the association of doctors and pharmacists who treat diabetes, high blood pressure, Alzheimer's, Parkinson's, hardening of the arteries, fatty liver disease, depression, ADD, bipolar disorder and schizophrenia...
"I'm still doing the sardine fast," I told Miss Cherry, the morning front desk lady.
I said it too loud, as, instantly a guy who'd gotten on the elevator, stopped the door from closing and said: "I can have your box?"
Miss Cherry came to my (though, maybe his) rescue with: "He goes through it and picks out a couple things.." and the door closed on him..
I became aware of the negative thought passing through my mind that there would be no sardines in the senior box this month and, hence, nothing for me. But I was able to send the thought along its way and rest my mind back into a state of gratitude, as I tore open my box to discover a large can of wild caught tuna in water, not seed oils; along with one of wild caught salmon. That means every senior will also get them, and I can look forward to seeing enough salmon to live on for a week, discarded on the "unwanted foods" table..
But, I had better divide my time between blogging, and the rest of my life; and end here. For now.
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"It's Tuesday," said Sandy, the caseworker, who has recently undergone some rather drastic changes in physiology; notably a pretty full beard has grown upon her face and her voice is actually lower and more gruff than my own. Nichole, the caseworker assigned to me, now refers to Sandy as "he," or "him" and Sandy's car is now "his car," etc...
I think I know what's going on, here.
One might think that nobody here at Sacred Heart has noticed these changes. I was talking to Nichole, my own caseworker, and said: "I was going to ask Sandy if she was Andy, now.."
To which Nichole instantly rebuked me with: "Don't!" That would be somehow a bad thing to ask Sandy. I'm supposed to go on with life and act as if Andy never was Sandy the kind of masculine lady who is the caseworker for, Jr., for one...
"So, are you 'Andy,' now?" How the hell could I be in the wrong for asking that. The alternative is to "Don't believe your eyes," don't even allude to the fact that you noticed a full beard having grown on Sandy's cheeks and ask about it. I would imagine that this is a big deal to Sandy, who is probably about 40 years old and, if she is transitioning into a man, she probably rues the fact that she is arriving to the party late in regards to the sexual motivations for someone who wants to switch into the body of the opposite gender...
"I bet you wish you could have become a man back when you were 20 and could have sex with a bunch of young, hot females!" would seem like something that might resonate with...him...
But, no. I'm supposed to play along with this game and pretend there has been no "transition" here, only a correction that uncovered Andy who had been there all along, but had been cacooned inside a female body, or or some bullshit...
But, my point is that I found out today is Tuesday from it.
The Winn Dixie up the street that's closing in 5 days now, has upped their discount to 75% and so I got a bottle of wine that I had always felt was beyond my means (do I want to get a lucrative job, that would kick me out of free housing yet afford me the ability to drink a $25 bottle of wine every night with my meal..?) for like 5 bucks. It's very, very good; but not sublime.
The "Federalist" Cabernet Sauvignon was that...causing me to say: "Oh, my God!" with each sip.
Of course, this was a compliment to the sardine-only diet I was on and the two were symbiotically compatable...
I bought Harold a bigger can ($2.39!) of the healtier-than-Friskies type of foods that they sell, which come labelled "human quality,' which means you could actually eat off the same plate, and bond with your pet that way, if you were to set aside your pride for a minute, type of thing..
I hope this post is made pretty by my python script; plenty of pastel colors against a black background...
I might have to make an "app" of it and upload it through github for android, so that other bloggers can...wait, I keep forgetting that blogs are a thing of the past. Now you want to let AI create an irresistible thumbnail in preparation for posting on X, or Tik Tok...never mind...
I got a frozen turkey for like $3.45 at Winn Dixie -a 12 pounder (other people had snatched up the heavier 'young' turkeys, probably thinking that, if they were getting a frozen turkey for just $3.45, why not get a 14 pound one, instead of a 12 pound one) and it's in the oven, in a turkey roasting bag, right now and will be ready by about 9 o' clock tonight. It's 7:07 now...
The sardine (oyster, crab meat, fat-free chicken breast, and soon to be turkey) only diet has had a noticeable effect on my overall well-being...
I can hold in my mind an overarching sense of what I am trying to do and, for example, limit myself to a half hour of trying to configure a python script that will let me download Youtube videos. Of course there are hoops to jump through; conceivably, because maybe Youtube want's everyone to pay for "Premium," in order to facillitate this. But, computer hackers and those in the know, know how to do things and I've gotten as far as acquiring the script to do so, but it won't yet run, because I need to get a Python "module" that is more modern than the laptop I'm using. I guess downloading Youtube videos for free was not built into the older hardware....
The sardine-only diet is miraculous. That being said, I went up front to the lobby and, there was a guy in a wheelchair with bandages wrapped around his feet because, I think he's had toes or something amputated -I'm not sure if the "medical doctors" have worked their way up to his ankles yet; and I don't really know how I would ask...
"So, how much have you had amputated, so far?"
I would bet a lot of money that, if that guy quit sugar, to include the sugar in those 32 ounce cans of Milwaukee's Best, which are brewed with the less expensive high fructose corn syrup (we would do that in jail, but, out here in the free world, I don't know...but it does provide the cheapest option) he would see a reveral in his "type" whatever the fuck, "diabetes."
I think it's sad that these Africans, a lot of whom are incredibly healthy back in whatever area of Africa they came for...
It's not that they were too stupid to build ships and make weapons out of metal and venture out across the globe conquering..it's that they were smart enough to realize that this gift of life that was given to us could be much better spent...
They had very strong "perfect," even, teeth.
My teeth are falling out of my head; and this is because of the intellience that my body has directing it to get rid of the teeth that had been filled with lead, yes, that's right lead. A very heavy metal....
My body was like: I'm going to let this tooth decay happen, in an otherwise healthy body and make these fillings fall out, by hook or by crook, type of thing...
But this obese fellow resident was in his wheelchair eating microwave popcorn out of a bag...
I could have told him that that kind of diet would wreck me.
He could have thought "that's because we can handle the microwave popcorn; the white man is weak!!"
And then I would have just gone to Winn Dixie for wine and a turkey roasting bag; and found a fat roach of some really good sticky icky along the way...
I suppose "Sticky Icky Along The Way" is the working title for whatever I now go to do on my Digital Audio Workstation; having sucessfully divided my time between like 45 minutes blogging, and 23 hours and 15 minutes of the rest of life...
I pray for you all and, if this whole universe turns out to be a cosmic dream...I pray for you all again
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I just got back from the Winn Dixie that is closing in 6 days...
I got a $25 turkey (a 'young' one, so exciting in an Epstein kind of vibe, but I digress..) for like $3.45..
Why I didn't just grab 5 of them and kiss goodbye any future food security is beyond me.
I just might, after drinking the excellent old vine Zinfidel that I always wanted to try but couldn't afford at $21 a bottle, but got for 8 bucks, go back there and grab the last 5 frozen turkeys...the only thing that is causing resistance to that idea is the fact that the turkeys might have been kept cooped up in tiny enclosures and fed chemicals and all that kind of crap.
They are the cheap kind of birds -the low flyers- that were "only" like $28 to begin with; and, even though I got one for like $3.45, they might not be the healthiest option as far as what to eat and everything...
I have been through so much; have travelled many roads and...
I recovered my sense of health and vitality within like a day and a half after I stopped drinking the coffee that might have been sprayed with chemicals to make it smell like good coffee; and switched to the Swedish stuff that I balked at spending almost 30 bucks a bag for, but got for 11 bucks. I feel really great...
I'm not bragging nor trying to rub in the face of the people who are truly suffering; having limbs amputated because they have been brainwashed into thinking that things are great because the commercials say they are...
I would love to go get a half gallon of ice cream and some soda and come home and get high on the sugar rush, but I'm not going to do it. I have too strong a constitution to allow myself to sucumb to such a sweet temptation.
I'm going to get a $20 hit of crack and some Viagra type of stuff; and put on a porn movie, and just try to take my mind off of the ice cream soda -that stuff is just bad news...resist the devil and he will flee, type of thing...try to stay the course!
This zero carb diet that has paid such amazing dividends after just two weeks in...
I'm committed.
Don't want to sabotage it now. So I'm off to see my dealer on Tulane Street.
Wish me luck, 15 followers.
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I knew that the Winn Dixie up the street is soon going to close to make way for an Aldi's Market or something. I didn't know that everything in the store was going to be sold off at steep discounts.
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| The 'stats' tell a different story... |
That was until I went there yesterday to find a mostly empty store with all the merchandise slid to the ends of the shelves closest to the registers.
Coming in with only 6 days left until the doors close forever, as I did, I felt the knowledge hit me that, for the past month or so, I had been paying 60% more than I had to on whatever I had eaten..
I shook my head, was unable to find sardines, and so took liberties with the sardine fast and substituted crab meat, oysters, and a can of fat free chicken breast meat, of the more healthy (expensive) kind...
There was a bag of ground coffee, Imported from Sweden that always looked good whenever I had seen it in the store. Good, and expensive...
But, at 60% off of the usually $28 bag, I decided to bag one...
And then, a "$20" bottle of 2018 Bogle Cabernet Sauvignon, which rang up at $6.49 for some reason that I didn't question, and the last can of Fancy Feast in the store completed my frolic. Harold would be stuck with salmon pate...
The total of what I spent coming to exactly $40.00 even, was an odd enough "against the odds" coincidence to make me think that the handful of cashiers, with only 2 registers open, who are going to be replaced in less than a week; might be just winging it and rounding everything to the nearest dollar and, (I wouldn't blame them if they were) perhaps skimming a little cream off the top on their way out the door, type of thing.
They were the older black ladies, one kind of plump with a butch type hair style, the other a skinny one. Out of all the employees in there, they have been the ones I have gotten smiles out of. Some of the 99% African American staff in there cast dirty looks upon me and generally would only take their headphones off long enough to say "I don't know," before replacing them, every time I had attempted to say: "There's no price on the cherries," or something. They wouldn't "know," because they hadn't heard the question cause they had their headphones in and only saw my lips move, so they *were* being honest....
But, the older ladies were in high spirits, talking and laughing...
Today I think I'm going to acquire cash before going there and, after they ring my stuff up, that I'm going to aim for being in the $35 range, I'm going to say; "Would you take $20 cash for it?" wink wink...type of thing..
I want my Roberto Mondavi Private Selection 2018 Cabernet Sauvignon for 5 bucks, c'mon, work with me!! -type of thing...
I'm happy to have the new toy of my Python3 script encouraging me to get back to blogging again..
I am realizing I bore more responsibility for the drop in readership from around 600 people a day, from all over the world, to about 15 a day..
There were some dark periods, around "the lockdown," when my alcohol, weed, fentnyl, viagra and porn addiction might have been tending to bleed over into my creative writing endeavors; try as I may have been doing to compartmentalize the two... lol
I fell out of the habit of adding labels, search descriptions and alternative text to photos; and of writing subject matter that won't trigger the algorithm to 'suppress' the posts..
That is the word that "they" used when I used Meta AI to investigate this drop in eyeballs and prove to me that I hadn't been shadow banned. "Shadow banned, hahaha, we get that all the time; no, no, no. Blogs themselves have fallen out of fashion, have you considered trying Substack, or maybe X, where you might find more like minded people, and not have your posts suppressed.
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| ...than the impression of suppression given, to perhaps make me rethink things and "correct my course," and start being more pro-antifa, or something... |
I think that word is intentionally being used as a dog whistle and a nod to some 'suppress the opressor' ideoloy over at Alphabet, but I digress and am risking becoming a victim of suppression...
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