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Musings

  • It’s a good feeling when the puppy wants to get playful at 9:30 PM. It’s a good stress reliever playing fetch in the living room/kitchen for an hour.
  • It’s not so good for the stress when you discover that the reason the puppy is so energetic that late at night is because she got into the basement storage room and ATE AN ENTIRE MRE, INCLUDING THE VANILLA CAPPUCCINO POWDER.
    • That explains the athletic prowess, including sprints, both high and long jumps, and the ability to move faster than the human eye can see.
  • Remember those cute signs about how an unattended child will be given an espresso and a puppy? Well, last night, we had both of those in one package.
  • She’s fine, and no, she didn’t get into the chewing gum. I monitored her all night long, and no gastrointestinal or cardiac issues noted.
  • In other news, I am going to be spending some time replacing the lock on that door. Either it’s faulty, or my puppy has advanced infiltration skills.

Thought for the Day

Gentlemen, “When are you going to learn to not touch the hot stove again?” is not the response your wife is looking for when she needs to ‘talk’ about her frustrations with her latest volunteer effort.

Repeating that question several times in the course of a discussion does not improve it, either.

Just nod, grunt approvingly, and agree with her at appropriate intervals. In the long run, it’s the best course of action for both of you.

Remember, ‘tis better to be happy than to be right.

Musings

  • Don’t call it a ‘recession’. Rather, call it ‘the economy that dare not speak its name
    • We have officially reached the “I’m not paying that much for that anymore” stage of consumerism around here. Several nonessentials that I buy regularly are priced too high, so I’m not buying them.
    • Another thing that points to imminent suckage is the regularity that things like soap are out of stock when Amazon does my monthly drop shipment of staples. If one of the biggest companies on the planet can’t get common items, then things are going sideways somewhere.
    • I have the same feeling I always got just as we got to the top of the log flume rides at Six Flags. I know the near future is going to suck, but we’re at a bit of stasis at the moment.
  • The turkey is thawing, the bread for the stuffing has been bought, and my givadam is polished and ready to go. Bring on Thanksgiving.
  • Part of holiday preparation was to bathe the animals so they don’t smell like, well, animals. One puppy actively tried to make a run for it after being put in the tub. The other looked at me as if I was beating her. Both are now squeaky clean, which is their signal to go and roll in something.

Overheard in the Office

Me, examining a new piece of industrial cutlery the big brown truck of happiness delivered today – This is cool, but it needs to be sharpened up a bit.

Her – Do not sharpen that!

Me, running my thumb along the relatively sharp edge – Why?

Her – Because there’s a 200% chance of you cutting yourself with that. If it had one edge, there’d only be a 100% chance, but it has two, so it’s 200%.

She’s not wrong. Luckily, I had a bandaid handy.

Rumblings

  • I would rather be both happy and right, but I will settle with happy. Being happy means I don’t have to sleep with one eye open.
  • Someday, some of the people who think they are a part of my life will figure out that me not caring at all about them does not mean I hate them. Hate takes too many calories. I prefer indifference to the point of not remembering they exist until they intrude upon my consciousness again.
    • Being hated by me is a privilege I extend only to a select few, and it is a privilege that you must certainly earn.
  • As an independent voter, I am going to have to stock up on popcorn now so that I have enough for the 2024 political season.
  • The news is full of reports that people have lost literally billions of dollars they entrusted to an inexperienced 20-something with limited oversight who kept his ‘business’ in the Bahamas.
    • Somehow, these people have the chutzpah to act surprised when their riches disappeared.
    • I mean, if you can’t trust a 29 year old with bad hygiene, manners, and fashion sense to hold onto your nest egg while living in a house with the 9 other people who run his company, including a girlfriend who openly brags about how great pharmaceutical stimulants are, who can you trust?
    • Dude, if you don’t understand it or can’t touch it, don’t invest in it. Even if you can and do, you better have someone with neither a neck nor a sense of humor available to ensure that your investment is being watched over carefully.
  • Apparently, holsters for my new pistol have to be made on the hips of Cuban virgins out of imported Rhodesian emu hide. The magazines appear to have been crafted by master dwarven artisans out of finest trans-orbital unobtanium, too.
  • As a return to the office lurks somewhere just over my horizon, I’ve been considering picking up a smaller car, new or used, for the hour-long commute.
    • Irish Woman is under the incorrect impression that I can wave my hand imperiously, and my employer will make a desk appear out of the ether for me to use at one of the company’s other, closer, facilities.
    • I had to break it to her that every other person who lives on our side of town already had that idea, and there is no room at that particular inn.
    • I’m not sure she believes me, but her will can only bend reality so far outside of our yard.
    • So, anyway, I looked at dealerships and used car lots in the area. There is a bit of inventory, not much, but a bit. However, the cost of a 2 year old used sedan is about what my parents paid for their first home. A new car is more than our last two cars combined.
    • Guess I’ll be driving the F150 for a bit more until this silliness gets under control.

Thoughts on the Day

  • Woke up to the sound of wind whipping through the trees and ice pellets pattering against the window.
    • Yesterday, it was sunny and 72 degrees. Today, it was gray, wet, and cold enough to make the Kentucky people whine.
  • The puppies enjoyed their first snowfall. The fake weiner dog even enjoyed it when her stomach scraped the white stuff a bit.
  • The miniature American Psychohound thought it was the best thing ever.
  • As luck would have it, this morning was the morning to walk a neighborhood and leave flyers for “Scouting for Food”. The half inch of ice was being supplemented by wet snow as we walked.
  • For our anniversary, I got Irish Woman and me tickets to Churchill Downs. I bought a higher tier so that we could sit inside and eat something approaching real food. Considering the weather, I’m glad I did.
    • For $80 a head, we got a nice warm place to sit and a buffet.
    • Even with the bad weather, I’m not sure I got good value. The room was about half full, but the buffet was regularly empty on at least half of its items.
    • Also, when I pay that much for a meal, being told “Oh, the coffee is over there. Paper cups are right next to it. Help yourself!” is not what I expect. For $80 a head, I expect Juan Freaking Valdez himself to bring me a bone china chalice filled with the nectar of the gods.
    • The track conditions were, understandably, horrendous. Most races had more than one horse scratched voluntarily due to the risk of running. I can’t blame the owners. Most of those horses are worth more than my house, but it only takes one slip and all they’re good for is dog food and fertilizer.

Thought for the Day

Not sure who I’m stealing this idea from, but this isn’t originally mine. It’s just been rumbling around in my head for the past few.

“You have heard that it was said, ‘Eye for eye, and tooth for tooth.’[a]39 But I tell you, do not resist an evil person. If anyone slaps you on the right cheek, turn to them the other cheek also.

Turning the other cheek is usually portrayed as a good person allowing someone else to harm them and not responding out of kindness and forgiveness.

I’ve always looked at it as not caring enough about the other person to give them the satisfaction of a response.

To me, it’s more of a statement for me to remind someone that they are so insignificant to me that even an insult or minor attack isn’t worth the effort to notice.

“You, flea, are not worth the calories it would take to scratch.” and all that.

Of course, your mileage may vary. My ability to ignore someone changes depending on a lot of variables, and I did inherit my grandfather’s temper.

And for you “What would Jesus do?” folks, just remember that in certain circumstances, flipping tables and literally beating the bejeezus out of them is perfectly acceptable.

Thought for the Day

Scene – Liboman, the Dishonest, stands upon his ivory tower. He looks down upon the destruction his own actions have wrought upon the land. Aghast, he beholds the approach of his enemy, TheVoteren, sovereign of the wide world.

Liboman, the Dishonest – Shall we not take council as we once did? Shall we not have peace? Can we not both admit that we all erred, and that our errors were made in haste, but in good faith?

TheVoteren – We shall have peace… We shall have peace when you answer for the burning of the livelihoods of good people! When you answer for the children who cannot read for want of schools! For the grandmothers who died alone on the altar of the foul god OrangeManBad while their families watched from afar! We shall have peace when you and your pious mumblings of forgiveness and kinship hang from a gibbet for the sport of your own thugs!

TheVoteren spits upon the ground to wash the taste of bile from his mouth.

TheVoteren – Then, wizard, shall we have peace.

End Scene

With all apologies to Peter Jackson and J.R.R. Tolkien.

Thought for the Day

We were breaking down the Halloween setup at the end of the driveway, and I was playing spooky music to set the mood. I wanted to get everything in before the next round of rain came through.

This started playing after Monster Mash, and The Young Prince perked his ears up.

“The Exorcist?” he asked with an impish smile.

I grunted. “Yeah. I think this is what your mom and I danced to it at our wedding reception.”

Just then, a peal of thunder and a flash of lightning split the sky. I felt a burning sensation at the back of my head. Turning around, I spied the love of my life trying to bore a hole in my cranium with her mind.

Ah, love. Sweet, sweet love.

Rumblings

  • Here in Kentucky, the judicial elections are non-partisan, and judges tend to not advertise or express political sentiments. That can make having an informed opinion at the polls harder for the voter.
    • Today, one of the judicial candidates made my life easier and convinced me to vote for their opponent when they produced a rare commercial attacking their opponent, who has not advertised as far as I know.
    • I am impressed by how clearly they described their opponent’s agenda and how quickly they convinced me to vote for said opponent.
    • Bravo, candidate X, bravo.
  • Elon Musk, he of the rockets that land as God and Robert Heinlein intended, is rumored to be planning a 75% layoff when he takes control of that hive of scum and villainy, Twitter.
    • It appears that this is, understandably, causing a wave of anxiety amongst Twitter employees. I mean, who wants to be laid off from your phony-baloney job?
    • I have some advice for the Twitterers. Take these ideas for what they are.
      • Learn to code. OK, I’m being a bit flippant here, but hear me out. If you’re working at Twitter, I’m going to assume that you’re at least somewhat technical. If you’re already a hardcore coder, then concentrate on getting better. You’ll either become essential and survive the bloodletting, or you’ll improve your odds of landing on your feet. If you’re not a coder, a new skill will look good for your resume. At least, you’ll be able to show that you made a desperate, last minute attempt to be more relevant after your position of 27th Assistant Understudy to the Chief Zampolit for Meme Verification is found to be surplus to requirements.
      • Learn that your job is not who you are. I mean, sure, everyone wants the glamorous title and lifestyle of a cubicle-dwelling, 18-hour workday having, no life to speak of outside of the Internet troglodyte, but that’s not everything you are. Embrace your inner self, and recognize that sweeping the streets of San Jose or San Francisco is better than starvation. Just ask the former employees of DEC or pets.com.
        • OK, well, cleaning the streets of San Francisco will be pretty terrible, but you get the idea.
        • Maybe you can take all of the skills you got playing skeeball in the Twitter break room for 8 hours a day and use them to launch your own business. I can see it now: Rent-A-Goof. Customer calls up and a slovenly Twit comes over to harangue them about their carbon footprint, privilege, and dietary choices. You’ll make millions!
    • If you survive the coming layoffs, consider yourself lucky and get on with it. I suggest pressing your nose to that grindstone until you start to smell smoke. Nobody says this is the final round, and you haven’t even seen Musk’s final form yet.
    • If you don’t keep your job, for God’s sake, don’t move home to Nebraska to look for work. Stay in California and continue to vote for and be Gavin Newsom’s problems. Decent people in the Heartland don’t need an influx of irrational, petty, opinionated children nowadays.
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