Cute

I should put text here, but I didn't. 

What cat doesn't like a box? 

Mr. Difficult wouldn't pose. 

the Pic of the Week. 

710 took it at the home office with his new assistant. 

Shep down in the Emerald Necklace, down where I do some of my Saturday runs. 

Simon stalking Shep from 710's bedside table. 

That is the matching bedside lamp - like the one I destroyed the night before. 

Song by: Oscar Peterson

There's a Light That Never Goes Out

Hulk mad !!!!!

The image doesn't really show much of anything except a few holes in the wall. Until the night before last (or last night as I'm drafting this yesterday), that is where my wall mounted beside lamp resided. I was going to take a better pic of the destruction, but my husband cleaned up early in the morning. 

As it turns out, while I am better, now and then my cough persists and in a semi-violent way. It hit shortly after midnight. Maybe it's all the gym work, maybe my mild mannered Bruce Banner persona was slipping away - I reached for my inhaler, which lately have had to keep on my bedside table, and somehow took down the lamp. 

I swear I heard glass break too, and assume it was the bulb. Then I sat for a few minutes wondering how I'm even getting out of bed as some point with glass all over the floor and carpet.  Then I wondered how my husband slept through the entire thing.  Then I tried to sleep, which lasted all of seven minutes before Mr. Shep barked. 

Shep has a certain bark (singular) which tells me he needs out. Since 710 didn't hear my 'smash', he certainly didn't hear a bark. I got my phone, turned on the flashlight, and saw that I had not actually broken any glass.  Yay me!

I got up, grabbed clothes, my inhaler, phone and glasses. I knew how this was ending. 

Shep has been restless at night lately. I'm not sure why. But I let him out, and we both crashed out on the sofa for the rest of the night. We have a decent sofa on which to sleep, and I got to snooze with him, so it wasn't all bad. 

Now we'll have to find a way to reattach my light fixture. 

.....and by "we", I mean 710. 

Song by: the Smiths

Falling Apart

It's probably too good to be true, but man oh man, I hope BLOTUS & Sons go down in flames. 

I mean, if they could take their feckless cunt of a sister down with them, it would be better, but a judge let her our of the mix a year or so back. 

A NY judge, for those reading this years later for historical purposes, cited fraud for the (t)Rump Organization for over inflating value to their assets, mostly real estate - including his self-named tower. 

The judge effectively revoked BLOTUS' licenses to operate his NY properties — and potentially an even broader swath of the family business that BLOTUS built over the last half-century. The ruling left much of his New York operation hanging in the balance.

Oh please oh please oh please..............

I would so love to see his buildings be stripped of his name. For all his business failures - and they are many - having his real estate holdings in NY taken from him, would have to sting. 

I mean, I'd love to know BLOTUS Jr and Eric got dry fucked in prison, but the start of the fall of their empire is a start. 

Song by: Skylar Grey

I Don't Remember

Sorry - but would-be media whore, Cassidy Hutchinson needs to be 86'd by the media. Especially CNN which is eating up every word she says. Ditto with CBS' Face the Nation. 

The Senate testimony (or was it the House?) from one-time aide to BLOTUS' Chief of Staff, Mark Meadows, reeks of excerpts of what was probably - and now certainly is - her book. Now she's making the media rounds before a host of Voter Fraud and Insurrection trials. 

Honestly, BLOTUS has a good - and bad - argument for his trials. Moving venues won't change anything. States, Cities or anything (yes, though to Federal vs State court). It's hard to argue you wouldn't get a fair trial in Atlanta when everyone in the country know something about the case. There can be no full impartiality. None. 

But now you taint the pool of people testifying after their book has come out. There is plenty of time to discredit the witness with whatever drivel she wrote. 

Worse than that is her defense on CBS to say everything she says is true as she remembers is - which alone is gap moment. Her problem is, when she first testified, she said, "I don't know and I don't recall" more than 100 times !!!!

Honey, you already threw in reasonable doubt in the first go-round, now you have a book with tidbits and feelings more than facts. Almost nothing can be corroborated. You're giving your former boss and his boss a free pass. 

I cannot believe, with the help of this twat, BLOTUS could possibly walk. It wouldn't surprise me if this was all planned for just that reason. 

Song by: Peter Gabriel

Tired

It is 20:33........and I just snapped out of falling asleep.  On the sofa. Barely after sundown. 

At times I wish I weren't such a slave to the gym. This getting up that early is beginning to wear, even on me a little. 

I know from experience that to change that routine means I end up quitting. 

Work has been draining too.  Four more days to a major system conversion. Then the two weeks after that trying to get everyone comfortable with said system will be a different kind of busy. 

But now it's 20:38.  I'm gonna wrap this up and head to bed. 

Song by: matchbox twenty

My Music Monday

My "new" song today is actually like nine years old and has over 41 million views. 

Seemingly First Aid Kit's "Silver Lining" is new to me, and possibly to me only. 

Sure, there are probably a handful of folks in Equatorial Guinea who haven't heard it, but that's it. 

I heard of the band - a Swedish folk duo who are sisters - a while back when I saw them perform for Emmylou Harris. 

A song with a good and mournful fiddle is always a winner for me. The harmonies are good too, and the entire arrangement. 

Maybe that's why 41 million others have heard it and seemingly liked it. 

Get Better

My "health" still plagues my running. 

Lungs are better, but by no means great. My prednisone treatment is over and I still have, but rarely need or use, the cough suppressant pills. Now and again I have a flare up, but not to the degree it had been. 

The ankle is another story. Or is it? 

It hurts. It's annoying. It's not 100% debilitating. But, it's annoying enough for me to see someone about it - and I went a new route: chiropractic medicine. 

I've done acupuncture for somethings with varying degrees of success. I truly suspect placebo effect. 

Through work, I know a chiropractor and I emailed him for advice, not an appointment. I told him what condition my condition was in, and he got right back to me that it was something he did, as did his team, and that they could help. They treat athletes all the time. 

Ha. Athletes. I'm a 60 year old shmoe who runs several times a week. I'm not an athlete. I don't even identify as a runner. 

BUT he could get me in the next day.  So, WTF, I went. 

One sees their job at adjusting backs and necks and such. I didn't know what, or how, they do things for feet and ankles, but.........I found out. 

As you might suspect, there is some manipulation like they do on spines and things. He did press on my facia on the bottom of my foot.  OUCH. 

He saw my face and goes, "hurts or ticklish?".  The latter. 

The doc also adjusted the leg on down. Apparently the song is correct: the hip bone is connected to the thigh bone.........and so on. It seems I had a knot of some kind in to bottom of my foot, so he said, "this is going to hurt" - as he put a needle in there (several times) and moved it around to break it up. 

Oddly, it didn't hurt much at all. The pressing on the facia way by far the most painful thing. 

The thing was: after one-half hour, I wasn't cured, but I was far better than when walked in. He encouraged me to keep conditioning, no overdo it, but not to baby it. 

I took part of his advice. 

I ran yesterday for a bit of a distance. More than I should have. The pain was present and annoying but not undoable. I will have follow-up chiro appointments over the next few weeks, so let's see how it goes. 

Song by: Nothing But Thieves

Windows

Weird-ish week.  Doggie Daycare was closed for various reasons, but we knew in advance. 710 and I split working from home, so someone could stay with Shep. To say our live revolves around him would be an understatement. 

But.........on with the pictures. 

Shep joined me (wait, I joined him) outside one day for lunch. 

.....and I was greeted another day by Simon - who loves his windows.......as you'll see. 

Way too much zoom going on here, so it's blurry, but we got to see Georgia a few times this week. 

We love her. 

710 day at home + a worker in the house, so Shep was blockaded upstairs with Dad #1.

Simon was not and somehow got over said blockade to join the pack. 

What a difference two years makes. Duncan was just a puppy 1/4th Shep's current size when we first met him. Clearly, he has grown up.  He's adorable. 

Easily the best pic of the week. 

Did he go around the blind?  No. No he did not. He went through the slats. 

Song by: a Flock of Seagulls

Record of the Month

I figured I'd do a monthly 'what I'm listening to' kind of thing. This could be viewed as a lame placeholder kind of post. And probably it is. But it's my blog! So there!   

Jason Isbell and the 400 Unit have been playing in my ears for the last few weeks with their new release, Weathervanes. 

I mentioned a bit ago, when I featured a song from the disk on My Music Monday back in July, that I have heard priase for Isbell, but had never actually heard him. A second song on the album pricked up my ears, and I went to the iTunes and purchased the entire disk. 

While the album doesn't defy a genre per se, and to paraphrase Donny & Marie, it's a little bit country and it's a little bit rock and roll. I'm going with Roots Rock. Or electric Americana. 

Isbell is probably as much a storyteller as he is a musician. I'm basing this on Weathervanes alone, as again, I've heard of him, but until this, not him.  He is a Bruce Springsteen meets Craig Finn with a little Leonard Cohen thrown in there, but with a Memphis type vibe. 

Weathervanes, in my opinion, is the album the Killers wanted to release two years ago, and failed at miserably with Pressure Machine. 

You can categorize them both as views of small town life and the sad stories that go with them. The difference was the Killers were trying for Springsteen's Nebraska, and Isbell tried for Isbell. It's not forced at all. 

There are plenty of songs based about drug or opioid use and abortion, home strife, Uvalde school shooting and such. There aren't a lot of uplifting moments in terms of lyrics, but they're put together well and played with a lot of talent. The guitars and violin / fiddle are very well done. Some of it could be from mid to late 80s Mellencamp (I say that thinking Scarecrow and the Lonesome Jubilee in mind). 

MMM was the opener with "Death Wish". Topic aside, the production and songwriting grabbed me from the first few lines. He doesn't stop there and goes with "When We Were Young", which is the most electric of the songs, probably. It's an amazing piece. 

But the more nuanced stories, "If You Insist", "White Baretta", "Volunteer" and "King of Oklahoma". The closing track, "Miles" starts with more than a nod to Neil Young's "Southern Man", but it is the longest piece and the most eclectic. 

In between all of those are good songs, but maybe not great ones. "This Ain't It" has Isbell doing an early '70s Jagger homage and "Cast Iron Skillet" didn't draw me in at all. 

I am happy with my purchase. I play the album a lot and it makes me want to explore some of the band's earlier works. For now, this is the strongest album I've purchased in 2023.

They're Not Laughing at Me Anymore

What a blatant pack of lies!

This is absolutely outrageous. Simply implausible.

Russel Brand is not a comedian!

He might be a lot of things - including a serial sexual assaulter, but "funny", he is not. 

Mind you, nothing is funny about sexual assault, and there absolutely is nothing funny about Brand, so by Pythagoras' theory, Brand must be a sexual assaulter. 

It's math, people!

Back in the early part of the last decade (I'm spitballing here), I was trapped on a plane that showed Arthur. 

No no.  Not the Liza Minelli vehicle. The Jennifer (I get stuck with only shitty roles) Garner and Russel Brand as the eponymous character remake. Sir Helen Mirren (yes, I said that), played Hobson. She is the only one for whom I felt bad. 

To clarify: the movie was on, I didn't really watch it, as i didn't put in headphones, but it was difficult to completely tune it out or not see it out of the corner of you eye.  Even with no sound  and my superb internal witty screenwriting skills, this stunk worse than the fish the flight attendants were serving. 

I'm no fan of Katy Perry, so in a ways I was fine they latched onto each other. It saves so many other people that way. 

I'm certainly not saying the women in question deserved the treatment or situations they were in, but it's Russel Fucking Brand - why were you there in the first place?  I mean.......ewwwwww.  You have eyes, right?  He's like a Weird Al reject. 

Still comedians of the world should take offense that he's lumped in with them. Come to think of it, so should guys on the sex offender list. 

Song by: Elvis Costello

Low

I don't know how many of you actually went beyond the Blogger warning they put up on my blog post. For those who did, I appreciate it.  For those who didn't, I totally get it. 

I'm not here to scream 'censorship' or anything. It would help to know which 'community guideline' I violated. 

One has to believe, I have used all those words in other blog posts. Granted, not in the same one or the same order, but...........

Was it the 'seaward'?  And I didn't spell it out or say it. I said, the 'seaward'.......but with 'c'. 

Was it the 't' word? 

The job of hands? 

Was it just saying "Lauren Boebert"?   I mean, THAT I get. Protecting innocents at all costs from having to deal with her on any level. 

I'm honestly baffled. I've written a lot of worse stuff, but about less worse "women". 

I suppose Harry Belafonte's estate filed a grievance, so that I'd understand. 

One of the comments yesterday said the guy in the video has also issued an apology. 

Lord. I haven't read it, but what could the apology be for, exactly?   That he got serviced at a mediocre musical touring company of a mediocre Broadway play?  Was it for 'exposing' himself to children, parents, thespians and cameras? 

Or - maybe, just maybe - that you went out with Lauren Boebert? 

Dude, there are not enough "I'm sorry's" for that. The only thing worse than going out with her is your absolute lack of judgement, self-esteem, character, moral compass and / or class. 

Considering who you "dated", that is saying something. The bar wasn't just low, it wasn't even off the ground and you still went under it. That chick is incredibly bad and somehow you are worse. 

Song by: Foo Fighters

Jump in the Line

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My Music Monday

Back to new music. 

Noah Kahan's song, "I Dial Drunk" has been popping up for me a lot. It is quite a semi-non-traditional song.

First off, Post Malone - whom I know of, but could not tell you one thing about, other than he has tattoos all over his face (and I'm assuming elsewhere) - contributes to the song.  

Since I can't tell you about him, I don't know exactly his role in this. Nor am I invested enough to find out. 

The song, in a way, is two different songs. The verses and chorus don't even seem like they do, or should, go together. 

The banjo - yes, you read that correctly - gives the song, especially the chorus, a good ole boy feel. I find myself turning up the volume for the song, as I find it catchy. 

Nothing about the song makes me think I want an album of it, but I've been wrong before. 

Say it isn't True

Screeching Halt!

I mentioned yesterday my week ended with a bird shitting on me. Yet it wasn't my worst moment. 

My cough still haunts me.....and apparently everyone at work yesterday. While doing a lot of conversion work for our new system, my hacking in front of 400 folks wasn't well taken. 

I'll give them that. I'm not infectious or contagious, I just sound like a dying man. 

And on Tuesday evening, my foot started to feel sore. By Wednesday, after a three mile run, it was way worse. 

I immediately went to: stress fracture or shin splints. I jinxed myself the other day when I said I've never had the latter. And honestly, I don't know exactly what they're supposed to feel like. 

I still don't. The pain is too low for shin splints. 

It's allegedly neither of my self-diagnosis, but good old tendinitis. Old being the operative word. 

The PA-C, Jackson Brown, who saw me, said I shouldn't run for at least two weeks.  I heard "one".  I'm sure I'll listen to my body and all, but in the meantime, I'm naproxin-ing the shit out of it. 

It turned out that I couldn't this weekend anyway, due to I get to work ALL weekend. Maybe it's the pain killer, maybe it's the fact I sat for 10 hours yesterday with little to no exercise at all - but my foot, while not great, already feels better. 

I get with age and activity, I'm an injury risk waiting to happen, but I'm still bummed. 

Song by: Jackson Browne

Cool Kids

The week is over. Praise Yahweh*.   

Let's just say it ended with a bird shitting on me while walking with Shep and 710. Possibly the perfect metaphor to the week. 

Time slipped away, so we have pics of course, I'm just not sure they're all they could be. I'm sure they're fine. 

His time at the ballet will come - and he'll be amazing!

I am in awe of defiant squirrels. 

Doggo enjoying his outdoors. 

How much is that kitten in the window?

You just know they're the clique. 

Kitler!

* I kid, of course. 

Song by: Echosmith

Cut and Run

The man who got me kicked of Twitter is not seeking re-election. 

First off, I should probably thank Mitt (the twice failed candidate for president) for forcing me off before Elon took over and I would have quit anyways  

For a recap: Mitt said Congress shouldn't vote on RBG's replacement immediately and then voted to do just the opposite. He's the male Susan Collins, except her dick is bigger. Anyhoo........I didn't threaten him or anything - it wasn't even a BLOTUS tweet. All I said was, I hope he and his family endured pain and suffering the rest of their lives. That's it. 

BLOTUS actually targeted people and even an insurrection couldn't immediately get him banned from taht fucking platform. His lies on COVID (via Tweets) literally killed people. I just wished a lifetime of pain for the Romneys. 

While, in theory, and in comparison, Romney looks like a decent stand up guy, look to by whom he's standing. Charles Manson would look good next to some of Mitt's colleagues. 

Mitt has two problems, of which I can tell. Lance Armstrong or Caitlyn Jenner.  For the RBG thing and a few half-assed verbal swipes at BLOTUS he's the one-balled Armstrong. More often than not, he's the ball-less Jenner. 

Romney has been secretly haven't someone author his biography. He tells this guy (?) things he should have been saying for years.......and aloud. But he's too much of a Polly Prissypants to do such a thing. 

But let's take one example. And honestly, it's all you'll need. 

Does he reveal this to anyone, on say, January 6th or 7th?  Does he go to anyone else with this info? 

He does not. 

He lets mid-terms come and go without a whisper of this. He allows his colleagues to rape the country - literally - and admonish them in private.............to a writer.   Two and one-half years later. 

PUSSY. 

.....and Fuck You Very Much. 

Romney isn't a leader. In his own way, he's worse than McConnell. Moscow Mitch is outwardly evil, so you kind of know what you're getting. Romney's stupid Mormon face and his sometimes empathetic patter almost make you believe he's human. 

He is not. 

So he's doing what all weak men in his position will do.  Cut and run. 

Instead of changing the system from his evil-doer "friends", he's just leaving and trashing them on the way out. 

It's a weak move. No one in DC will care what he has to say, mostly due to the way he's saying it. Had he stood up on the floor of the Senate and said the same thing, in front of his colleagues, in front of cameras, I'd have had a few ounces of respect for him. 

Now I just want him and his family to have a lifetime of misery and pain. 

Maybe I'll join Threads and tell him as much. 

Song by: Ultravox

Cough Syrup

My blog reading has gone to the dogs. I apologize to all my blog friends. Just have not kept up - and certainly haven't taken the effort to comment. 

I blame my schedule. And my overall mental health. 

My schedule is my schedule. You see how early I get up, but I reserve that pre-gym time for sitting in the dark and probably play my NYT word games.  Work has been nuts, and it hasn't made me happy. And you know my little free time has been reserved for running.  Then I'm in bed usually by 21:15. 

It's all I can do to get dinner on the table and draft a blog entry myself. 

I know this will change a bit as we move into the deeper Fall. I won't run in the dark that much. My work computer conversion will be over in a month or so. I hope to find some semblance of balance. 

My actual health hasn't been super great. Two plus weeks later and I'm still sick. 

No Covid, though I find it hard to believe I didn't - no matter what those three tests said.

It was back to the doctor yesterday. Well - to the doctor. "Back" would imply I went before. I hadn't. Still - it's down to my cough. My very very ever-present cough that would scare any pulmonologist. The doc said I have no infection in my lungs or sinuses. Lungs are clear. No nasal drip. O2 saturation is perfect. 

Luckily, she did walk in during a coughing fit, so she got to see it in action.     

Short story (too late!), I'm on steroids for the next five days and a cough suppressant that comes in a pill. 

Oddly, for the most part, I've kept running throughout all this. While my lungs might not be great, guess when I don't have coughing fits?  Maybe there is a lesson in there somewhere. 

But now I'm hepped up on prednisone and trying to figure out how sleep is going to go. Can't be worse than up half the night coughing my brains out. 

Song by: Young the Giant

12 of 12

 So I'm doing my 161st 12 of 12.

Normally it is 12 pictures taken on the 12th of the month. Since I only post once per day, you get my images the following day. All pictures taken with my iPhone. Click images to enlarge, if you choose.

Created by Chad Darnell and picked up from, what I can tell, any number of random bloggers who then link back to him and vice versa. Chad is no longer doing this, nor is successor coordinating the linking of other 12 of 12'ers anymore. 

04:33.  Rearview camera capture. 

I had been up since 02:15 to the sound of at least 23 gun shots. Shep had his first walk by 04:00. 

Not a great start to the day. 

04:58.  Gym time. 

05:43.  Building up that knee strength. 

Months later and I'm still doing my PT every other day. 

06:32.  Work arrival. 

06:34. Mail drop. 

Had to send a condolence card to my sister-in-law. 

09:51.  Grey day. Office view. 

12:04.  On way to get lunch. 

12:33. Lunch:  shwarma, hot sauce and a banana. 

13:21.  Pre-training training.  I shit you not. 

18:02.  Late daycare pick up. 

.....and I heard all about it. 

18:21. Rx. 

Daddy needed a new inhaler.

19:54.  Air Fryer Salmon. 

It's like the bend-and-snap:  works every time!

There you go.

Satellite

Elon Musk and his dirty looking ex, Grimes (!) had a third kid, possibly after they already parted ways. I assume they probably deserve each other, if only not to inflict themselves on others. 

Musk himself revealed this tidbit and like piranha, the media fed the frenzy...........only to completely drop the story that Musk himself turned off / blocked his satellites, Starlink, to help Russian forces attack the Ukraine. 

And if that doesn't fucking frighten you - it should. I don't give a fuck if you're for either country, but you're not paying attention either. 

One man - ONE MAN - has the ability to control (or help control) a war. One man with seemingly no vested interest in the outcome, clearly has a vested interest in the outcome. 

As if it isn't bad enough entire governments do this, but not "private citizens" that are not even really Blackwater (allegedly). 

War is a money-maker. Ask the folks at Northrop Grumman or Raytheon - who make somewhere in the $25-35 BILLION range per year. Musk is in "it" for the $$$, but I'm not sure what the "it" is. 

Since the media are weaker than shit, we'll never find out. His porking an unbathed electronica "singer" is more news than he helped Russia plan and kill folks in the Ukraine. 

It's bad enough that Starlink's space garbage if fucking up the night time sky, but now it's just become a telecommunications hub for the military - and not ours. And possibly ours.  Or whomever is the highest bidder? 

Song by: Guster

My Music Monday

I don't really have a music theme this week. 

However, I do keep coming back to a post I did earlier this week called "Words".  

There are lots of songs I could have used, one being a Bee Gee's song that has been covered by any and everyone from Elvis Presley to Shawn Colvin. 

I did go with the Monkees, and it is a song I forgot how much I liked. What I didn't know is that there are two versions - though both extremely similar to the other. 

The "band" at first were just voices and actors for the series. As all were actual musicians, they did flex some of their creative muscle as the show became popular, and they were able to play their own instruments and in some instances write their own material. 

In the original version of the song, they only did vocals, and Michael Nesmith was even left off of those. In the second version, they played the music and all four had some vocal part. 

For either version, I like the arrangements - both musical and lyrically, especially Peter Tork's secondary vocal. 

Tired

Je am dead tired.  Je am. 

Yesterday, my Apple Watch and health app took a beating:  40,000+ steps, beat my movement goal by 387%. And did the same with my exercise goal by 943%. I wanted to see it hit 1000%, but I no longer had that energy. 

I also ran the most I ever have. The first 9 miles were a breeze, at least for me. Trust me, most were still beating me. The next 5 were ok. The last 2.5 killed me. Clearly, not literally. 

Mind you, are group was only about 18 and at least 10 of them opted for the shorter 8 mile run. I went with 18.  I only came in before three others............but the important thing was that I came in......and upright.

The shorter run group had left by this time, so I made sure to stay until the other three returned and congratulated them on their accomplishment.........because it indeed was. One of them got into a car that had a 26.2 sticker,, so she was experienced, but for myself and the other two, this was farthest we had ever gone. 

I eventually got in my car, and while I had water and some Nuun hydration tablets, I needed caffeine. So off the Starbucks I went for black tea, iced. 

While waiting, I just sat there watching the seismic activity going on below my skin. It was fascinating and a little disturbing all at the same time. 

I was dead tired after all that activity, but was unable to nap and had been drinking water like crazy all day with very little pee. 

I predict a night of full sleep. At some point. 

Song by: LCD Soundsystem

Tempted

Yesterday, I promised you pet pics.  I'm here to not disappoint - but let's face it, every Saturday you're getting something like this. 

Simon cannot just leave well enough alone. 

Think Shep doesn't like his tail played with, just wait till you horn in on his potential supply of food. 

Driving Ms. Bailey

Both animals hung with me when I was sick last weekend. 

Shep for me. Simon for Shep. 

Song by: Squeeze