Cooking with Blobby

We just don't eat much red meat anymore. At least at home, and we rarely go out to eat anymore. So, as you see here, it's a lot of pasta or poultry. I'm always looking for ways to jazz either of those up. 

Yesterday I tried something new. It's been on the back burner - pun intended - for a week or so, but I just got around to making it: Turmeric-Black Pepper Chicken With Asparagus.

Asparagus is not a veg I use a lot. I like it well enough, and 710 will eat it, but I can't say he's a fan overall. And I like the idea of different greens getting into our food - so I went ahead with it anyways. Since they weren't spears per se, I figured he'd live. 

Spoiler Alert:  he did. 

"They" say it takes 15 minutes to make. I'm calling bullshit on that. It took me 15 minutes alone to get 3T of honey out of the fucking jar! I hate working with honey. But I'm a trooper. 

I'd say it takes 10-15 to prep and about 10 to cook. Still, a pretty quick meal. You can even cut the chicken and asparagus ahead of time and just have it ready to go. Sure, THEN it's only 15 minutes. Still - it's not a time suck and things do come together quickly once the stovetop is ablaze. 

Ingredients 

Yield: 4 servings 

3 tablespoons honey  (I forgot it in the picture)

¾ teaspoon black pepper, plus more to taste 

Kosher salt (such as Diamond Crystal) 

2 tablespoons all-purpose flour 

1½ teaspoons ground turmeric 

1 pound boneless, skinless chicken thighs, cut into 1-inch pieces 

1 tablespoon coconut or canola oil 

12ounces asparagus, trimmed and thinly sliced on an angle 

1 teaspoon unseasoned rice vinegar or soy sauce 

1 lime, cut into wedges (optional) 

Procedure

Step 1 In a small bowl or measuring cup, stir together ¼ cup water with the honey, pepper and ½ teaspoon salt; set honey mixture aside. 

Step 2 In a medium bowl, stir together the flour, turmeric and 1 teaspoon salt. Add the chicken and toss until coated. 

I didn't have thighs, so I used breast meat. 

Step 3 In a medium (10-inch) nonstick skillet, heat the oil over medium-high. Add the chicken and cook until the turmeric is fragrant and the chicken is golden brown on both sides, 2 to 3 minutes per side. 

Step 4 Add the asparagus, season with salt, stir to combine and cook until crisp-tender, 1 to 2 minutes. 

I added the pic of the chopped asparagus. The recipe calls for 12oz.  What you see is 9 oz. It's a LOT of asparagus. 3 more oz might have been too much. 

Step 5 Add the honey mixture and cook, stirring, until the chicken is cooked through and the sauce has thickened, 2 to 3 minutes. 

Step 6 Remove from heat and stir in the vinegar. Season to taste with salt and pepper. 

Serve with lime squeezed over top, if you like.

Verdict: yummy. 

The honey gives it sweetness - borderline too much - but the pepper gives it heat. Maybe the Turmeric, but I don't know that it has "heat" - someone can correct me if I'm wrong. The heat just kind of creeps up, but it's not overpowering or anything. 

Full disclosure, I probably only had 2 (of 3) T of honey in the jar. I think 3 might be too much - at least for me. 

The asparagus softens nicely for what little time it's in the pan, but still has a slight bite to it - just the way I like it. 

It might not serve four, but definitely three folks. 

Only time will tell if my pee smells due to the asparagus.   ....but I'd do this again, maybe add some red chili flakes. 

Fake

I kind of want to ignore a third "assassination" attempt in two years on this beached whale of a president. 

While the first one was clearly faked, so is this one. Sorry, it just is. 

Physics will tell you the first one was. The physics part would tell you the blood would got backwards, not forwards, from a bullet fired from in front of you. Oh, and since BLOTUS isn't a starfish, he didn't regenerate an ear that had been shot.  At the very least, have a fucking scar! Or pretend scar - though that would keep him in the make-up chair longer each day. 

Oh, and he's allegedly directed the DOJ not to investigate that shooting. Yeahhhhhhhhh. That event seems on the up and up. 

For this last one: the fake White House Correspondence Dinner.  Yes. Fake. 

It's not his party. It's the news organizations. Who just fall into line with him now-a-days. He's never been to one because they've been so mean to him in the past. He's so fucking thin skinned. Not enough for a fake bullet to piece it though. 

But still, it's a scheduled event for this "president". The way security works is that Secret Service has whatever place cased out well well well in advance and has limited access for people coming and going. 

So, we are to believe that Secret Service is so bad at their jobs, they've let THREE (!!!) "assassination" attempts occur? 

No one seems to be questioning their professionalism. Granted - not reading the news, so maybe they are, but no tidbits trickling down to sound bytes I hear here and there. 

That said, even if these attempts are indeed fake, Secret Service as been complicit in participating in this fakery. There is no way around that one. And that is fucking sad. 

The made-up war is going badly. Epstein files aren't going away. A fake shooting shouldn't take away from the mid-terms. The national debt just topped $39,000,000,000.000!  Yes, that's TRILLIOIN. And we added the last TRILLION in the last five months. He's doing WONDERS for the economy. 

So what's a failing gas-bag to do?  Play his greatest hits:  pretend to shoot me!

I've yet to see anyone calling any of these people "crisis actors", though they should. 

....and speaking of things trickling down to me: BLOTUS reaction to a CBS (?) reporter reading "the manifesto" (my lord, it's like calling every adult movie performer a porn "star") about a rapist and pedophile. 

Obvi, I didn't see the interview, but he claimed he'd been "exonerated".........yet NOBODY is asking him by whom?  WHO fucking cleared this man for thousands of pages of redacted info? 

And fuck me: that phrase "third time's a charm" is seemingly worthless. 

Song by: Lola Young

Faith

In all honesty, I've been waiting for about 2.5 years to use this title image, with no good reason to do so. 

Apparently, I fucked up yesterday and somehow embedded a George Michael video where Madonna was supposed to reside. 

The demographics of who the two artists sell to are the same, so in a way.......

I honestly do not know what happened, but I have an inkling while I was playing the Madonna track it automatically went to the other song afterwards and my copy / paste timing of the html was off. 

So, you can go back one post now and listen to Madge should you want. 

....and speaking of overlapping demographics.......

This little news item hit some feed of mine. 

I didn't even raise an eyebrow. 

While I get Madonna has one central demo anymore - really, are the tween girls who bought Like a Virgin 40 years ago still waiting for her new releases?  They've moved on to Bublé and Josh Groban. The gays are the only ones left for her. 

But are they Grindr gays?

I won't pretend to know the average age of a Grindr user, but I am assuming young-ish. Do they even care about her? Though I suppose that's why she performed with Sabrina Carpenter at Coachella. The former is more like someone who I am assuming the Grindr gays identify with at this point and time. 

With pushing 8,000 posts to this blog thing, there are bound to be a few posting blips along the way. 2026 has just had more than their fair share of them - and we aren't even a third of the way into the year. 

Song by: George Michael

My Music Monday

As a homo blogger, I feel contractually obligated to post something on Madonna's new single - "I Feel So Free". 

I'm not sure what to say, but........I'll give it a go. 

Her 1996 disk Confessions on a Dance Floor was her last half good disk. Anything after that was either less than half-good, or not a single salvageable moment. I think we bought one disk after Confessions and just gave up on her. 

Even the last disk I reviewed of hers was just through 90 seconds of each auto-tuned song after another. Absolutely horrid. 

But for the half of the 1996 Confessions, it was a pretty good disk. The other half......no so much. 

I only bring up that disk because, I'm guessing Madge figured out she's not commercially viable as she once was and is slated to release Confessions from a Dance Floor 2. 

I didn't know albums had sequels, but..............here we are. And "I Feel So Free" is the first offering. 

Like some of the songs on Part 1, this single is partially sung, partially spoken. I think that can work here and there, but there really isn't much to this tune other than the chorus. It's not unlistenable, but not original either. 

It's not as horribly auto-tuned as her last outings, and there is some, but not distractingly so. I get the spoken part, but not for a single - let alone the initial one. 

Madonna's not a moron. This single coming out now and the new album in June will strategically have this song playing at all Pride events. I'd say at gay bars too, though I think there are less and less of those. I only know of two in the 216. 

But to fulfill my homo blog obligation: here is Madonna. 

Fast As You

My first "big" race of the year is in the books. 

Yesterday was a 10 miler. I love the distance, but I can think of only 2-3 races per year that go with that length. 

As usual with this particular race, the weather is iffy at best. Supposed to be 55, it said 51, but felt like 44 - which didn't include the breeze off the lake. 

Per usual, a quarter mile in, all was fine. Save my ever cold hands. 

That was my only "complaint" about the event. Pun somewhat intended - it is very well run. The route is decent though the second half is all hills. 

My performance - for me - was outstanding. I really could not have been happier (though hold that thought). 

While many in my running groups were there, I ran with a guy I met at this very race three (?) years ago. He said, "I'll keep up with you as long as I can, but just keep going".  I never saw him again after mile 2. Well not true, I saw him after the race after he crossed the finish line. 

The last four miles I was pretty much pacing with this other guy. I'd be ahead, then him and round and round we went. Except for the last quarter mile when he just sprinted past me and kept going. 

I saw him later and he acknowledged me and said I was a good competitor for him and "apologized" for running ahead. I jokingly called him "a dick" - and laughs were had by all. 

I ran a 9:02 pace, which for 10 miles was pretty fucking good (for me). I conquered all the hills, which is incredible for me. I was in the top third of my age category and overall participants. I was in the top 50% of male participants. 

And I knocked over 10 minutes off my fastest 10 miler. Fairly impressive, if I say so myself. 

Now onto the "hold that though" comment earlier. 

I crossed the finish line fairly elated. And then ran into a number of folks from my training crew. Mind you, save one, were all 25-30 years younger than me. But they had clearly already been in and eating their bananas. Mind you - and yes I checked - some were only in a few minutes before me, and the earliest one was only eight minutes prior to me. 

For a moment, I let it get to me. They were all very congratulate-y, and nothing but nice, but here I was the eighth one finished of the group. Still outstanding and I've never been this close to their pace before. 

I can't compare myself to anyone, though hard to do. In three weeks I'll be finishing my fourth year of running. And I'm old AF. And the third oldest in my training group. And I'm improving as I go along. I can only rate myself against myself. ...and even that isn't great. 

Still, I'm not easily pleased with myself, and this race I can say otherwise. 

Now two half marathons in the next three weeks.  Let's see what I can do. 

Song by: Dwight Yoakam

Waiting on a Friend

Saturday. Pet Day. Sometimes the easiest post of the week. 

Today, it's some of the regulars with a few supporting players and a walk-on or two. 

He's such a pack member. The armrest / center area is just a rest for his snout so he knows what is going on. 

Surrounded by beauty. 

OMG.  ADORABLE. 

I'm not sure I have enough attention span to ever own a golden. They want it all - and my mind wanders. 

Bailey after the spa. 

GEORGIA. 

I haven't seen her all winter, but she was out and as pretty as ever. 

Shep met a schnauzer. No one get barked at or bit. 

Waiting for Dad #1 to come home. 

Song by: Rolling Stones

Site of the Month

Full disclosure, I have not used the site featured today. Two things are pretty much stopping me: 

1. It's a pay site. Though it doesn't look like a lot of money is involved. 

2. I don't speak or read German. 

Maybe 2 doesn't apply as much once you're into the Die Zeit.  The home page is mixed German and English. But if I'm intuiting well, I'm guessing it says four searches for one Euro. As I don't know the conversion rate to U.S, I don't know if that is a good deal or not. 

But you're asking yourself - "four searches......for what.....".  Well, I'll take the text right off the page for you: 

Were any of your relatives – your father, your grandmother or your great-grandfather – members of the National Socialist Germany Workers' Party, the Nazis? Until recently, that question could only be answered by submitting a request to the German Federal Archives, or currently through the website of the U.S. National Archives, which has made its microfilm copies of the NSDAP membership index available online over the course of the past year. Finding individual people there, however, is nearly impossible, and the site itself has repeatedly been unreachable due to the surge of traffic triggered by the news of its publication. DIE ZEIT therefore secured the complete dataset and subjected it for the first time to comprehensive processing and a statistical analysis. In an initial step, we were able to make approximately 4.5 million index cards from the Nazi era directly searchable. Now, following an update, an additional 8.2 million documents can be searched by name and place of birth of individual persons.

Shortened version: was anyone in your family a Nazi. 

It's kind of a daunting thing. I mean, who wants that really, let alone to know it or be burdened with said knowledge? It's not like you can use it in an ice breaker. 

Still in this day and age, where some people thing being a Nazi isn't / wasn't so bad, maybe it is ok to not bury our heads to that. If nothing else, the Nazi's kept excellent records, so I'm guessing what is there is pretty fucking accurate. 

Am I worried about finding my family there?  No. Not really. My father's family emigrated to the U.S. in the mid-1800s, my mother's around 1900. Anyone left behind would have been more worried about getting a gold star and some ink. 

But fuck if my searches wouldn't be people in the current administration, because you just know........

I won't lie, I'm curious, but ugh - money. Just make it free. 

Backhand

This picture is so fucking perfect. On so many levels. 

The Georgia Women's Tennis team has no one to blame but themselves for this debacle. 

NO ONE. 

They accepted the visit to the White House. They have seen other teams demeaned there. They have seen trophies broken there. They have definitely seen women put in the background - figuratively.

.....and now literally. 

They read. Their coaches read. Their handlers and the university allegedly can read. But it's Georgia. The state that got called to lie about 12,284 votes. 

This is the Point / Counterpoint moment from Airplane:

"Shana, they bought their tickets, they knew what they were getting into. I say let 'em crash! "

And crash they did. 

On the off chance that no one from the University of Georgia, the coaches, the players or the player's parents have never heard of this president, his administration or what they are like - that the team was so fucking weak that they just stood there and let this happen amazes me. 

Ok. That last part might be a lie. 

I'm not amazed. I'm not surprised. Disappointed is in the rear-view mirror. This is standard operating procedure. 

Everything about this image states - for the 1,093,929,446 th time - that women are second class citizens. And I'm being VERY generous in that placement according to the current administration. 

You can say they're "girls" or "young women" and don't have the life experience to deal with being demeaned like this - but I call bullshit on that. They are ferocious athletes who leave it all on the court. They know about tenacity, power and winning.  They've been doing this for years or decades. 

They know what backbone is. Or supposed to be. And they don't have it. 

I'd actually be surprised if the team didn't give him their fucking trophy. 

Song by: Bruce Hornsby

Nick of Time

Like clockwork. 

Usually it's a nick. Sometimes a not so great one. 

This one was more of a gouge. 

Normally, I shower and shave exactly the same every time. 

For washing, it's the left arm first, then the torso, onto the right side. Head. Back. Legs - then the twig and berries and dark side of the moon. 

Shaving - I suppose you don't need the details, but on Sunday for g-d knows what reason, I deviated. Slightly. But the first change, I took a chunk of my head. 

It hurt immediately. It bled immediately. Usually it doesn't. But this was like an artery. 

After finishing showering, I put a towel on my head and used the other to dry the rest of me. That head towel has to be ruined. There isn't enough oxy-clean to get out those stains. Carrie White had a similar towel sitch after her gym class too. 

FUCK - echoed off the shower and bathroom walls. Except it was early-ish Sunday morning and no one was in the locker room. Trying to get dressed was tricksy. Tying to get shirts over my head without dousing them in A negative was difficult at best. I literally thought I was still sweating when I bent over to put on shoes. Nope. Blood just running down my face. 

Classy!

Four paper towels later, I finally had to get out of there to to meet my cousin for b'fast. As you'd expect, I was late. 

This was just s small sampling of more paper towels and napkins I went though on the drive. More in the restaurant. David told me to stop blotting and let it clot. But I couldn't. I know blood was smeared oh my head, I just couldn't see it. I had to wash my hands twice because they had blood all over them, either from me touching it directly or it leaking through the paper as I applied pressure. 

710 got me peroxided and bacitracined up when I got home. But I'd find later, my pillow had more than small dots of red all over it. 

Dith tried to talk me into an electric head razor months and go and I ignored her. I have never had any luck with them for my face. They have always done shitty jobs. Maybe it's my beard. Maybe it's my face. But it just might be the razor(s). 

I'm guessing as this heals, I'll put all thoughts of it out of my head until the next time. 

It's "funny" but on our Sunday call, I must have turned my head a certain way because Jon goes, "did you cut your head again???".  Extra points to him for paying attention to detail. 

No one at work has said a word, and you know they probably want to. I'm not giving up on what a dipshit I am without prompting. 

Song by: Bonnie Raitt

Ride

In a semi-odd coincidence, my friend Terri (far left) found this picture in a box in her basement. She sent it to me the end of last week.

It is from a trip to Cedar Point back in 1989. 

I have some pics from that day, but don't ever recall seeing this one. 

Fuck. We were SO young. 

For all you wondering, 710 is on the far right. My friend Jon is next to me (and who might be seeing this also for the first time). The three women were nurses with whom we worked on a cancer floor. 

Also for those who might not remember my videos of Cedar Point (2012, 2015, 2017), it is a premier amusement park when it comes to rollercoasters. It continually ranks up there in terms of best coasters - longest, fastest, steepest, etc. depending on the coaster itself. 

I believe I'm officially too old for a return trip to the park. 

....and I might officially be too poor. 

This doesn't include parking, food or drink. 

I got that notice the same day Terri forwarded the title image. 

710 did a little digging and found out that in 1989 ticket prices at the park were $18.50 !!!! And I'm guessing we got some OSU discount too on top of that. 

The crazy thing was, back in 1989, $18.50 probably would have been a stretch for us financially. What money I had went to booze, drugs, food and rent - in that order.  Oh - and that we didn't make a lot of dough in the first place.

Yes, now $100 wouldn't really set me back, but I also can't see paying that. I get it: I'm cheap. 

We paid more than this for Disney World back in 2017 (?) and it was so not worth it. But a soon-enough-to-be 63 year old has aged out of amusement parks. 

The price is just the nail in the coffin. 

Song by: twenty one pilots

My Music Monday

Still on the new music kick here.

I won't lie - never heard of Laufey before. Or maybe I have?  I mean, not the name, but maybe a song here or there, though nothing truly comes to mind. 

She / Their new song, "Madwoman" came out last week. In the first day it got over 3.3 million views. 

Those of you who love Heated Rivalry will up that count a bit, as Shane Hollander Hudson Williams has a role in the video. 

Laufey has an Ella Fitzgerald-esque quality to her voice - at least in this selection - with jazz / boss nova being the music. Everything about it - song and video - screams 1960s. 

The alto is nice and the song flows well. It's not necessarily my jam. I wouldn't turn it off if it popped up on the radio (though I'd be surprised if it did) but I wouldn't add it to a playlist either - unless I was having a cocktail party............which also isn't my jam. 

mmmm..........jam. 

And maybe it's Hudson, maybe it's Crazy Rich Asians meets Bob Fosse-esque choreography of the cater-waiters but this video might actually be gayer than Heated Rivalry. 

Good Mourning

It was on my training docket to do 12 miles yesterday. 

My last two long runs were scheduled to be 9 and 10 miles respectively. My last two runs were actually 11 and 12. Oh - and an evening of hill repeats, which I loathe.  ....but I do them. 

As I do have two running groups, which one I go to on Saturday runs varies. Sometimes I just don't want to run with the training group - but location has a bit to do with that too. 

Yesterday, they were to run through the Cuyahoga Valley National Park. The part was the towpath along side the Ohio & Erie Canal. 

I run there often. We hike with Shep down there often. Lately there are just numerous reports of ticks. Ticks on people and animals who never leave the trail. 

Lyme disease is not on my 2026 Bingo Card. 

Since I also had to drop something off for someone in the Old Man's Running Group, I opted to go out with them. But I still needed to do 12. Most in that group don't run that far. So, to stick with them, I went out early. As you can see by the image, I started at 06:05.  

That way I could get in at least six miles before the group congregated at 07:30. As I got in more than 6.5 and was planning on running another six with them, I just said, 'fuck  it" and took it to a full 13.1. 

This was my longest run since the Marine Corp Marathon last October. It was ok, but not great. But that's ok. 

In the next four weeks I have three races. 

You can see by the title image it looks like I ran out into Lake Erie, but in actuality it was a pier. I stopped there to get a pic for 710 for his morning. So I took two. 

I would then trip - TWICE! - over the walkway back to the road. That I didn't fall and fracture something is a minor miracle. And early enough there was no one around. 

Oddly, I almost expect ortho injuries - but at least it's not Lyme. 

Song by: Halsey

Growing Up

Dogs and cats today.  Not even kittens. Cats. 

Another lunch date with Dad #2. 

Love Olive to death, but black dogs are tricky to photograph. 

Henry and Virginia turned 1 year old this last week. No longer kittens.

Don't ask which is which, I don't know - and my nephew didn't tell me. 

Daycare pick-up. 

Peek-a-Boo

OMG.OMG.OMG.OMG. 

A-dorable. 

Lulu got a visit from her boyfriend.

Though clearly she didn't recognize him by sight. 

Benny. A new neighbor addition. 

Part rottweiler; part corgi.  All love. 

Song by: Peter Gabriel

Primary

It's mid-Mid-term time. 

At least for Ohio. 

We are in the midst of our primary season. 

I wouldn't say this election is unimportant, but I wouldn't go as far as to say it is vital. November will be. April / May? Not so much. 

....in Ohio. 

I won't pretend to know how other state primaries work, but here, you can only vote in your designated party. So sure, while there are "wrong answers" to check, it's less likely that will happen regardless of which party with which you're affiliated. 

For my ballot, 70+% of the judge races are uncontested. There are no opponents. I also don't colour in their circle because......why bother. 

Sherrod Brown is back on the ticket. I'm ok with that. I just find it hard to believe no younger democrat has stepped up or is viable. There is a second candidate on the ticket, but until I opened my ballot, I had never seen or heard the name. 

Now, that might not be shocking given my lack of news intake. But even during Jeopardy there have been zero ads. For anyone!

So, 710 and I filled out our ballots and I dropped them both at our country election board thingy. One can still vote by mail - I mean, try to stop us. Fucking BLOTUS is against and he did. Which I don't get. He is in Florida every fucking weekend. If he's so against mail-in ballots, then vote in person. 

I think it was actually cheaper to drive the four miles to drop them off than to use two stamps per envelope to send them in. And Shep got a car ride, so...........win-win. 

Ohio has made it tougher to drop ballots off. Now there can only be ONE drop off location per county. They know a certain demographic might find it harder to get out and vote, so they'll punish them at every turn. 

And yes, our state is firmly in the red. They're horrible. 

This is why November matters so much. The state won't turn blue (probably) but made we can make it purple. 

Song by: the Dandy Warhols

Ad of the Month

My social media feed seems to be nothing but BLOTUS shit and Heated Rivalry and Heated Rivalry-adjacent things. 

Only one of these things is admissible. And admissible-adjacent. So - two things. 

Below is the new ad for Peloton, the treadmill. Not their bike or rowing machine. Monday you'll get another bit. But you'll have to wait. 

Peloton and their stock went through roof in 2020-2021, due to the pandemic. And then it TANKED. Even Miss Cleo could have seen that coming. There was no way to sustain that kind of growth. Even during the pandemic, you'd have to wait and wait and wait for your equipment. Then the gyms opened back up. 

My gym has three Peloton bikes. So I don't need to purchase their bike or their subscription services to their classes. For a long time I was using it diligently, but then running took over. There are only so many Mariah and Lady Gaga songs I can handle.  That number?  0.   The other music genres are not that much better, so I used my own music, but had to mute the instructor. 

Anyhooo.........Peloton has a new CEO and I'm guessing a new marketing department. 

I'm assuming, if their bike instructor hiring practices and this ad are any indication, that the demographic they are have and are looking to expand are straight white women and gay men. Period.  Oh, and Montreal Metro fans.  Period. Period. 

I give you........Shane Hollander, being his unboring self. 

He's a double threat. He acts. And clearly he dances. Should he be able to sing, he might be a triple one. 

If he actually runs, they show that as much as they show him skate on his show.

....and while the ad is embedded below, really visit YouTube and read the comments below the video. That is a post in and of itself. 

 

Side Note:  at the end of the ad it goes through a series of "Let Yourself _________".  

One that hit me is: Let Yourself Fail. 

It cannot be more true - in life and in exercise.  I'm now closing in on four years of running and now and then I have THE shittiest of runs. Like - first few months of running, it feels like. All runs - all of life - won't be good. Won't all be winners. 

Allow yourself to fail. Honestly, it's fine. 

Anti-Hero

Yesterday I mentioned I was rooting for Iran - and that still holds true. 

If for nothing else, they are like the pope - not taking shit from BLOTUS and not standing down. And even better yet..........mocking him.  And even better yet - they're doing it on X*. 

......and I am here for it. 

* I don't have X, but people were nice enough to send me some screenshots and then I just Gooooooogled Iran Embassy tweets.......and voila. 

Song by: Taylor Swift

I Can't

Honest to fucking g-d, I have nothing. 

Oh yeah, lots of political shit to touch upon, but I just cannot. 

I mean, I can, but then I'd probably have to voluntarily commit myself in a psych ward. I could use the rest though. 

There is not a chance in hell I'd repost that pic of you know who as Christ. I mean - W.T.A.F. ??????  

And when you pit two men who are both involved in sex trafficking and child molestation rings, I hate to say it, but this time I have to side with the pope. 

I have seen the pope's quotes and like all bullies , they cower when someone stands up to them. VonShitzhispants is no different. Though honestly, if BLOTUS takes out the pope, I do think it will FINALLY be over for him. 

That is collateral damage with which I can live. 

Oh - and yay to Iran for targeting amazon data centers. 

Remember 1979-1981?  How we, as a country, hated Iran.  .....now I'm rooting for them. 

Song by: Radiohead

12 of 12

So I'm doing my 192nd 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.

04:55. My first wake-up.  

This is a screen shot of my iPhone which now acts as my bedside clock. 

06:00. Oats. Pre-oatmeal. 

07:44. Well, this doesn't look good!

It would turn out my left brake light was out. 

09:17. Cool down walk after a 5.25 mi run with the running group. 

09:30. Panera. 

After our Sunday run we meet at Panera (or Einstein Bagels) for coffee (or tea). 

10:10. Autozone. 

Purchasing new brake lights. 

10:39. Picking up my crazy pills. 

12:52. Afternoon hike with the husband and dog. 

13:31. Ugh. The price of petrol. 

13:42. Attempting to change my brake light. 

They sold me turn signal bulbs.  Blast!

18:39. A Shep greeting. Warm-ish outside, so we could sit there and enjoy the backyard. 

19:04. Pasta. That what would be for dinner.