I'm late writing today. I took two Advil PM last night and couldn't wake this morning. Still, my sacroiliac was killing me, and I had to go back to bed to ease the pain. Took my computer, though, and started in on a long series of texts with c.c. It began with the Birds Are Not Real movement (link) and then morphed into old t.v. western theme songs which morphed into old racist t.v. commercials. There were plenty.
So now I'm pretty chuckled out. Emptied. You know.
I figure mundane images are safest these days, though people did stare at me when I took this one. I was pretty sure someone was going to get angry and ask me aggressively, "What are you doing?" I mean. . . I was on private property. People are all vigilantes these days. You don't want to get caught doing anything. You could end up with your neck in a noose.
I have a friend with three teenage daughters. I want to photograph them, I tell her. She sends me photos of her birds. WTF? "Oh. . . the kids are in school." Yup. It's getting hard to be a pimp.
"I can't define 'noir,' but I know it when I see it."
I read today that vaping causes erectile disfunction. I've also read that many young men report that Covid reduces the size of their erections. Well now. Maybe that is what Fox News means when they say young men are being "feminized." To which I say, "Somebody needs to be."
These are troubled times.
It appears that we have become numb to people dying from Covid now. It's just, like, a "thing."
"What are you gonna do?"
My mother turns 90 on Monday. I am making a party for her Sunday, outside. I have told her neighbors to come by. I'll set up a table with snacks and drinks and party favors. I hope people come. I am not any good at doing this. I come from hillbilly stock and we did not make celebrations of any proportion. There were no frivolous decorations, no real planning. I was not properly socialized, and it has cost me dearly. So. . . my mother will have her first birthday party at 90. I must get everything together today.
O.K. I guess it's time to move along. There's nothing to see here. Just move along.
Can't see the NYT article as I have no more freebies. They need to update that Birds Aren't Real website. They are employing squirrels now. I have a couple eavesdropping in my attic.
ReplyDeleteSugarfoot, Sugarfoot, easy lopin', cattle ropin' Sugarfoot,
ReplyDeleteCarefree as the tumbleweeds, ajoggin' along with a heart full of song
And a rifle and a volume of the law.
Sugarfoot, Sugarfoot, never underestimate a Sugarfoot,
Once you got his dander up, ain't no one who's quicker on the draw.
You'll find him on the side of law and order,
From the Mexicali border, to the rolling hills of Arkansaw
Sugarfoot, Sugarfoot, easy lopin', cattle ropin' Sugarfoot,
Ridin' down to cattle town, a-joggin' a-long with a heart full of song
And a rifle and a volume of the law.
Oh, I love Bosco!
That's the drink for me!
Chocolate flavored Bosco
Is mighty good for me.
Mommy puts it in my milk
For extra energy.
Bosco gives me iron
And sunshine vitamin D.
Oh, I love Bosco!
That's the drink for me!
Tell your Mama, Happy Birthday from me.