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Quote of the Day… not actually daily, but whenever I encounter one I think worth sharing and there are not too many in sequence. I like quotes as they frequently distill a piece of wisdom into a brief passage, or make other points very succinctly – such as the witticisms of Oscar Wilde.
“Children are the only bold philosophers. And bold philosophers will always be children.” ~~ Socrates
To see more Quotes for Day, visit this link: Quotes for the Day
yeah I know you did not ask!
You should so be blessed – well cursed at times actually – with a mind such as mine, making all these weird connections between my rumored neurons. Just be thankful that I do not share all of my random thoughts.
I am still not imbibing news, at least consciously. I do follow my investments on Google’s Finance page which at the end of my watch list always has news stories related to those investments or to the market in general. Today one headline read that tRump was threatening 50% tariffs against our good friends in Europe.
For some reason a picture of the orange orangutan currently occupying the White House came to mind. In this picture he is sit squatting in the Asian manner inside a zoo cage. He is busily flinging his turds at the various zoo visitors passing in front his cage. For reasons unclear, the zookeepers have removed the glass partition that would have kept his excrement on his side of the wall. His malodorous missiles were landing pell-mell, but damaging those among us in the most need. Maybe if he turned that Bible upright… nah.
Outside of making him and his contemptuous cronies even richer, I am still trying to figure out what the problem is that he is trying to fix. He is making America anything but Great.
While this posting, A Jack Handey Fable, is about addiction, I see MAGA’s devotion to El puta pendejo naranja in a similar vein.
And so it should not go.
yeah I know you did not ask!
You should so be blessed – well cursed at times actually – with a mind such as mine, making all these weird connections between my rumored neurons. Just be thankful that I do not share all of my random thoughts.
Recently here in St. Louis we had storms and tornadoes move through the metro area. Except for some limbs down in the yard, we were okay, but were without power for nearly 30 hours.
During this period I discovered that I have basically forgotten how to cook without the use of a microwave. Whether that is cooking or not is a discussion for another day.
My feelings exactly, but I am not hopeful like Mr. Springsteen. The America I have always loved has turned into an abusive relationship.
20 lessons for our troubled times as read by one of my favorite actors, John Lithgow
Okay I am a Johnny-come-lately to the “Two beers and a Puppy” test. I became aware of it when a friend of ours sent a text to Señora and I saying that we both were a Yes and a Yes. Undoubtedly, she was thinking of charismatic Señora more than Señora’s curmudgeonly Plus One.
In an article about the test Ross McCammon starts out by saying,“’Two Beers and a Puppy’ is a test that I developed while working at Esquire.” Another article whose author I could not ascertain went on to say the story being worked on was about the American “son of a bitch”. Whether it has any tie in to the “Two Beers and a Puppy” test I do not know, but a search on American“son of a bitch” and Esquire came up with an article from Roy Blount Jr. that was an interesting read: Let Us Now Praise The Son of a Bitch
In order to find out how you actually feel about Continue reading “A Test for Our Elected Officials: Two Beers and a Puppy”
yeah I know you did not ask!
You should so be blessed – well cursed at times actually – with a mind such as mine, making all these weird connections between my rumored neurons. Just be thankful that I do not share all of my random thoughts.
There is a deeply profound quote by the comedian Jerry Seinfeld that goes:
“Looking at cleavage is like looking at the sun. You don’t stare at it. It’s too risky. Ya get a sense of it and then you look away.”
I was thinking about this quote the other day as I was wondering what it would be like to actually understand women. Would it be like looking into the sun without protective eye gear? Would it be like looking into the eye of Mordor? Would you turn to stone as you would if you were to look a Medusa? Would it be your doom, like listening to the Siren’s song? Would it be like passing the light at the end of the tunnel, never to return? Would the number 42 start flashing at you from the cosmos?
Asking for a friend.
yeah I know you did not ask!
You should so be blessed – well cursed at times actually – with a mind such as mine, making all these weird connections between my rumored neurons. Just be thankful that I do not share all of my random thoughts.
If Homo sapiens have a lingua franca, it is mathematics. Unfortunately, most of us only speak it at the most basic of levels, pidgin English, if you will. At least sitting here in the United States. I have the impression that math is emphasized more in other countries, much like second and third languages are more common outside our borders.
I could not stand it, so I looked up our ranking…
Señora tends to collect the airplane size bottles of shampoo, conditioner, body wash, lotion and even bars of soap that have not been opened from the various hotels and motels we stay at. I will, by spells, also gratify the penny-pincher in me by doing the same.
I was in her bathroom the other day, and I noticed several of these bottles lined up on the window sill, including two bottles of body wash with honey in them from our last sojourn to a resort south of Cancun, Mexico.
Thinking I should at least put the body wash to good use, I liberated them from her space to the shower in my bathroom. As I spilled a bit of the Mexican, honey-scented body wash on to my fluffy, gray washcloth I was instantly transported back to the beautiful beach on the Riviera Maya. You cannot go there any cheaper than that.
yeah I know you did not ask!
You should so be blessed – well cursed at times actually – with a mind such as mine, making all these weird connections between my rumored neurons. Just be thankful that I do not share all of my random thoughts.
I tend to “meditate” in the downstairs bathroom as that is where we keep all our bathroom “literature”. The other two WCs are not arranged in a fashion that would not damage the books. Frequently, afterwards, there is a malodorous miasma engulfing the whole of the first floor of our dwelling. As I travel from there to other realms of our abode I will pass The Wee Dog, aka Prancess Lily, on one of her many perches. I sometimes wonder if she is stewing, thinking why does he get to do it inside and he makes me go outside.
Or not… random thought INDEED!
I really just wanted to use the phrase malodorous miasma. I will admit to having a weakness for puns (the worst the better), and, in this case, alliteration. While I am not aware of any, there should really be an AA style group for those of us suffering such a monstrous malady.