Day of mourning

Given a choice between shooting and murdering Vlad Putin and Clarence Thomas, I think I’d shoot Thomas; more of my friends would be positively affected.

Thomas is a rich hypocrite. In 1983 he talked about the positive effects of affirmative action on his life; this week he spearheaded ending it, to appease his corporate masters. If Biden doesn’t pack the court, there will never be another ‘democratically elected’ president.

I suppose it won’t be enough to kickstart a revolution, but I understand what is happening, and we have to stop this shit from taking further root in Canada.

It’s “canada day”. I ain’t celebratin’.

Clipped Paul’s heinous toes yesterday and to my horror found that he had a fully infected pus oozing injury on one toe, so I dealt with that too, and briefly hung with the folks at their place. Paul’s not moving this weekend so I called Mike and told him to stand down.

TRIED to get hold of the docs office, they closed it without telling anyone at lunch yesterday. Faaaaack.

I remembered (riiiippp) why I wear clothes to bed. I sweat, stuff sticks together, I roll over and get a bruise from where two sets of skin rip apart. Aiyoille. Now I have a matching set on the undersides of both upper arms. SAD. 7316 words total on the new fic, 500 words scattered over the last three days on TB.

Very productive day – ran various errands, got my meds, picked up a glasses cord, wrote, only practiced a bit though which is standard when the graphomania sets in. Jeff says I’m talking a lot…. yup, do feel a little sped up. It’s a lovely sensation after having the energy of a sloth and the mental capacity of a kitten.

BUSTER IS SO DONE WITH THE CONE. It comes off early next week.


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Born when atmospheric carbon was 316 PPM. Settled on MST country since 1997. Parent, grandparent.

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