At 5 this morning an explosion goes off, the windows rattle, the house shakes. I run around the place trying to discover what blew up when another explosion goes off and I can tell it's from the property across the road. Turns out a much disliked developer has been blasting rock at 5 in the morning. I was up. The neighbours were up. The cops came. A fire truck responded. We all hated him. But after being informed that construction cannot start before 7AM and him feebly saying, "Oh, I forgot", we all hated him that much more.
December 2, 2019
FIRST LINES WE'D LIKE TO READ
On Tuesday, aliens visited Washington politicians and gave them 24 hours to do the right thing; by Wednesday, there wasn't a single Republican left; by Thursday, the Republican obstructers, losers, liars, and creeps were nothing more than a cautionary tale about self-serving shitbags; by Friday, the planet was green and lush; by Saturday, the Earth and all those who reside upon it breathed a sigh of relief; by Sunday, the planet was left without a trace of rancor; by Monday, last Tuesday became a world holiday.
December 4, 2019
Overheard three young women at the pub.
-- This was a lovely idea, Millie. Drinks in the afternoon, party at night!
-- Cheers, girls.
-- So who's throwing this party anyway?
-- Allen G. He lives on a farm in Deep Creek.
-- A farm? Like with animals? Gross.
-- Well aren't you Miss Priss.
-- Smelly farm animals? You wanna party with smelly farm animals?
-- You talking about the livestock or the boys that will be there?
-- Ha ha.
-- We're not hanging out in the barn, girls. Allen has a big house with a huge deck and an indoor swimming pool.
-- Skinny dipping!
-- You guessed my plan.
-- So who's this Allen anyway?
-- You don't know Allen G.?
-- Hmm, how can I put this delicately. He's the guy who Steve Onrick, you know, the rugby player, called the biggest horse he's ever seen.
-- So if we get him to go skinny dipping, we get to see it!
-- Oh good plan, Millie. You are a sly one.
-- Cheers, girls!
December 5, 2019
You know how when you mix two different colors together they form a third? If you mix blue and yellow you make green. This is symbiosis. The current state of politics in America is the complete opposite of symbiosis - noncooperation, bellicosity, belligerence, disputatiousness, insubordination, intractability, obstructionism, combativity, recalcitrance, impedance, truculence and hindrance - in this case of mixing blue and red you get two dissimilar parties vying to be champion of the other and the thought that they could work together to form a mutual benefit for the masses they supposedly represent, is well, anathema. To recep: symbiosis, good; state of American politics, sorry, sad, pitiful.
December 6, 2019
LETTER OF THE MONTH
The world used to be funnier. You used to be funnier. What happened?
What is there to laugh at these days? Sure, we have Trump and his imbecile family, and of course, there's always billionaire doofuses like Robert Kraft, Jerry Jones and Jeffy Jeff Epstein, old punks acting as if money makes the man, and yeah, I'll admit that certain people are consistently funny like Ryan Reynolds trolling his wife and Bill Cosby saying he's innocent and stuff, and ok, there's always the humor standby of Monty Python reruns, but, um, funny is what Saturday Night Live used to be, funny is what happens when snarky little Twitter bitches get paid back:
Trump Leaves NATO Summit Early After World Leaders Are Caught Laughing At Him.
Now that's funny. You're right. We need more of that.
December 8, 2019
Watched two horses nuzzling in a neighbour's field. It was a beautiful moment of affection between two beings sharing a life on Earth, no different than us (humans). Love is love, eh.
December 10, 2019
This guy buys an old house and while doing renovations comes across a cache of unopened wine bottles and Napoleon cognac hidden behind a wall in the attic. The liquor looks positively ancient, still, he cracks open some wine and slugs it down. Later he was to say it was "a little vinegary," just before the alcohol poisoning took over and made his life a moribund hell. He survived but decided to give the rest of the bottles to a buddy who will drink anything.
But instead of consuming the alcohol, the friend did some research and found that a single bottle of Napoleonic era brandy sold for $270,000 in 2016. And he has 4 bottles! He threw away the wine, auctioned off the cognac and retired to a country estate in Leeds.
The moral of the story? Sometimes you eat the bear and sometimes the bear eats you.
December 11, 2019
It's late in someone's career and he realizes that if he doesn't accomplish some feat in the next near while, he likely never will. This scares him and motivates him, but mostly scares him. What if he doesn't manage it? What if he blows it? What if he never achieves his goal? He would have to live with the failure for the rest of his life. Could he do that? Will he pull it off? No one knows, not even his conflicted self.
December 13, 2019
I loved growing up there. I got my education there. My family still resides there. But watching from afar, there is no way that America under the lazy stupidity of Trump the Goober and Moscow Mitchy is anything like the world respected place I remember from my youth. Now it's basically a banana republic run by ignorant old men who think that Hitler "wasn't really that bad a chap" while the rest of the world laughs at them to their face. How fucked up is that?