Showing posts from June, 2023

True Story©… Ear Wormin’

       Last time I looked, the music on my big desktop could play for 68 days nonstop without playing the same song twice.   That was a couple of months ago, before I noticed some files – basically any artist whose name starts with the letter ‘G’ – had copied wrong and had to RE-add them from my backups. I still have a gamut I run every other Saturday or so where new music is acquired as well.   It’s on the big computer so I get something good going in the home gym without having to use my headphones.   Music frames a large portion of my day-to-day.      I say that to say that whenever someone sees me out, there is probably a (not exactly-) random song bouncing around in my head. …   or a dog, but never mind that.      Never mind that though.   Well, consider it but don’t focus too much on it. My world remains tied to the things I enjoy, that I am responsible for, that are good to me and that there remains some mutual love for.   Most other shit, I am usually trying to actively

True Story©… I Wanna Go Outside

       My 44 nd birthday will be here in nine days… My current physical weight is as low as it has been in like 15 years, my wind and stamina for physical activity are about as good as they have been in about the last ten.      Be all of that as it may, if I had ever been athletically inclined enough to have participated in a professional sport of any type other than golf, they would have put my old ass out to pasture no sooner than about five years ago. …   that would be if I wasn’t ignant and didn’t didn’t frequently traverse the world as if proverbial shit don’t stink and proverbial fire don’t burn, proverbially.   More on that in a minute.      Last summer, I built a small home gym in my garage/mancave for quick workouts or short intervals throughout my days between tasks or before/after work.   This comes in addition to the extensive time I spend out behind the lawn mower and the couple of miles I will take in around the neighborhood whenever the inclination hits me.   Let

True Story©… Bowlerskating

       I daydream… I daydream a lot.  One might say my days are an ongoing daydreams with inconvenient breaks for reality.      One thing I like to daydream about is what I would do if I came into a stupid amount of money, think big lottery winnings level.  As I explained on The Ticket , there would have to be a certain amount made for me to quit my job even if I found a space to go into business for myself. Practicality would see me perhaps building an apartment complex and expanding, so as to leave my kids something when I am no longer here.  WILD thoughts include other erstwhile unrelated thoughts of things my friends and I used to do in our early adulthood. We’ll talk about that last one today… Back in olden times (circa 1999-2002ish), an average weekend might see me rarely home at a decent hour between Thursday and Sunday nights.  Living in a college town, ‘club nights’ would generally get to moving on Thursday nights, then we would go to a different spot on Friday.  On Sa

Hypnosis (A Fun-Raising Experiment)

  You are getting sleeeeeeepy...      Good afternoon, dear reader and welcome… Now that I have you all focused (or experiencing an epileptic episode from the above light show) , allow me to explain to you why we are here.      Several years ago when I started this, I activated and allowed ads on the page in an attempt at what I thought would monetize a talent. Do you know how many tens of thousands of eyeballs on stories it takes for that to actually work?   Wait…   That is tens of thousands of eyeballs who ALSO periodically click on ads as well.      Needless to say, that wasn’t it.   A couple of years ago when I came back from my new job/hospitalization hiatus, I realized something.   Two things, actually… 1 – When I am using my phone an encounter a page with ads on it, I am more inclined to say “fuck that” and close. 2 – When I am on either of my computers, I have adblocker set to gestapo and I haven’t known what an ad on a web page looks like for several years. “Alexa,

True Story©… You Got Serb’d!

       I have been working from home since March 19 nd , 2020.   According to a designation I signed off on in January, that has gone from an indefinite designation to a permanent one. While it was still in “indefinite” status, I treated my working-from-home privileges with kid gloves.   This means I never log in late, I work sick if I have to and I do my damned job WILDLY efficiently.   To make a long story short I have my dogs, I can listen to podcasts and music on my speaker and not a pair of earbuds, my house has rarely been cleaner and my yard has never looked better.   I don’t like people enough to have to deal with them every day.      What that also means is that for that time, I operated with absolute PROTECTION of my work from home designation.   I insist on working in a front room with the blinds open so I can see when someone is coming.   This allows me to waive them off with an “I’m on the clock” warning without having to deal with the kind of people who walk neighborh

True Story©… The M-O-Equalizer

       I’ve been misusing  Moe Phillips . Not to say or try to suggest that Moe is a real person, but the time I have spent using that name to complete the Shenanigous missions that no sane person would dare to do with their own name appended may have gotten a bit out of hand.      Most Sunday evenings, I watch The Equalizer with Queen Latifah as she plays a street mercenary taking on jobs to help people in peril who come to her for help.  No, what she is doing is not legal as it is presented, but she is usually more adept and attentive in solving these people’s problems than are the local police. I had an idea… “Do you need assistance and can’t get help?  Contact Moe Phillips at 336-xxx-xxxx.  No job too big or too small.”      I posted that shit ALL OVER the place.  FaceBook, Craigslist, Angi, local bulletin boards, printed and put on the corkboard at grocery stores next to the ‘have you seen my fluffy’ pictures, on NextDoor – you name it!  I wanted as many eyes on this shit as abso