My pOp, looking at this. “Well, I feel like shit.”
I don’t know why I think krummy German accents are funny, but I do, I always have, it’s transgressive somehow. Maybe rewatching Foyle in gulps is doing it to me. My blog title today is an acknowledgement that Suzanne is a specialist. I asked after talking it over with Jeff. Suzanne was made aware of our slippery rug situation, and I told her we’d been thinking about bath safety strips but that we’d very much like to hear her opinion, and although it’s currently being used for something else, I actually have a chunk of the material she’s suggesting for the purpose. Yes, the specialist has made the judgement. Other solutions are available, we agree, but there are nice-to-haves to go with any solution.
Anyway, you can buy it by the yard at the fabric place down the hill, or in short expensive rolls in the stupormarket or in relatively short reasonably priced rolls at Rona. SOLUTION is: movable, washable (nay, even sanitizable!), flexible and unlikely to make things worse. Yes, this is the solution we were looking for. IT SHALL BE TESTED as part of the great experiment that is “Making Our Dump More Comfy,” the name of me and Jeff’s new podcast. He will specialize on the bathrooom side of things, and I’ll be more about cleaning with brain damage. I’ve hated it with rancor and pustules and bilious vomitings my whole life, yes, that would be my attitude toward housecleaning, and I have to tell you, a small but troubling amount of brain damage and an increasing inability to bend is not turning it into a catered picnic with a live trio, if you catch my drift.
I am laughing very hard right now, mostly because I’m picturing Jeff’s dismay at me saying anything about the two of us having a podcast about, “Making Our Dump More Comfy,” since absolutely anything BUT that will happen in our household, I can guarantee it with mirth and complete certainty. Sorry to perturb you, if perturb you I did there brO. It’s just that I know you’ve got at least two good bathroom episodes in you (I mean descriptions of ‘the manufacture of comfort for the benefit of all’, not some recent feat of excretion, in terms of subject matter) and I’m likely underestimating both your creativity and lived experience.
It shall remain an ever-receding possibility in terms of joint projects! and everyone said GOOD and turned to other things.
Like this. I think it’s apropos.
I have no auxiliary fucks; I have no emergency fucks. I have no fucks that were overlooked by shipping; I have no fucks in the back, even if I look, twice. I don’t have any in the crawlspace, the attic, or that unused pair of boots. It’s entirely set to zero, my number of fucks.
Jeff said he was off to get Timmy Ho’s and I thought “I bet as a personal challenge I can go downstairs and haul up my three loads of clean laundry in that ol’ Ikea bag and put them away before Jeff gets home,” and I managed to almost change into my day clothes too, before he got home, but not quite. That putting away included the towels, the rags, the kitchen linens and the washcloths so I was running around like a fool there stuffing cloth into cubbies.
I have a whole wheat burrito egg wrap in the fridge for a midmorning snack, and the prospect of Paul coming and taking me for a mall walk. I’ll drive. I should muck out the fridge so I have room for better (ie edible) veg – but the many ways I have been putting off this task now add up to a stench most Plutonic which wafts I tell you wafts in a bad, bad way whenever the fridge door swings open. So the more I have to do it the less I want to and that graph is looking like the infection rate in Hong Kong right now, which didn’t vaccinate a high enough percentage of its old people plus Sinovax sucks a mop and now there are hundreds of thousands of people infected with COVID at once and old people in care are dying in droves. Source something @crof posted on twitter
Meanwhile the COVID numbers are almost flat here, although they won’t be in two weeks. Up and fucking down. Let’s save capitalism.
Buster was so halfhearted at training this morning I was most perturbed, but then he finally did a pawclap like he’s doing me the BIGGEST GAWDAM FAVOUR. Hrmph.
Anyway, have a gif from Reptilicus. I don’t even want to explain how I ended up finding this gif, it was a drunkard’s walk in 180 seconds across the internet and then suddenly, DIRCH.
New signage out of Ukraine
Off to the library to pick up a book I reserved in July, lol. I was, like, 85th in line.
Galileo drew these after his first glimpse of a moon through a telescope.
The Ukrainian tax office, taking a leaf from its comedian president, has issued a statement about the tax implications of acquiring a Russian tank. Don’t worry, they assure the populace; by the time you get it, it’s not worth much (implication being that it’s been blown to pieces) and it’s not considered a taxable good. Full marks for straight faced ludic nonsense.
More reports of Russians refusing to fight, but the big news is the lengthy file of tanks, half tracks and trucks going into Kyiv, and not moving. Apparently supply is an issue, but what I keep hearing is that Russian boys are holing their gas tanks for the privilege of staying put.
The Russian military is using vacuum bombs (thermobaric bombs) on civilian areas. Mostly people have evacuated but not everyone can. These are bombs that basically turn everything to mush and fix it so even if you’re protected by a wall or building your lungs get mushed.
Reports are overwhelming that Black people who were going to school in Ukraine (a popular destination for med and engineering students from Africa) are being refused entry, food and medical attention at the Polish and Romanian borders. Some of the stories are nauseating and heart-wrenching.
One of the self-funded reporters in Kyiv is a Black man from Chicago, Terrell Jermaine Starr. The amount of racist abuse he’s getting in Kyiv (there are civilians with guns everywhere in town and Ukraine is just as racist as anywhere else) is still less than the fucking bullshit that racist armchair pundit warriors are giving him on twitter. Anyway, we’re into our seventh day of the invasion, and he says he has PTSD already and people MOCKED HIM. Like wtf you got brain maggots er what? If someone shoved a gun in my face I’d be unhappy, and if ten seconds later that gun went off (not pointed at me) because the civilian left the safety off, that would definitely fix me for not sleeping soundly for the next little while.
1594 words so far on the new story, one little kudo last night on the second last story.
Must finish leftovers! No more cooking til leftovers done!!
A link to Zelenskyy dancing with his comedy troupe in black pleather (as a parody, apparently) has caromed around the internet. Here’s the translation, scanged from u/viciuniversum on reddit, unitalicized words in brackets are the translator’s, italicized words in brackets are my explanatory notes:
“Let’s pour a shot of martini
Bud’mo hey! (Cheers!) (Bud’mo, pron bood mor LITERALLY MEANS LET US BE can you imagine being from a country whose nominal drink clinking words are literally ‘let us be’????)
For freedom, for destiny, for truth!
One shot, two shots, three shots!
Bud’mo hey! You are gay!
For Yura, for Yulya, dulya [hand gesture] for Lyashko! (saints and heros and politicians of yore)
Here’s my bulava (Ukrainian weapon and traditional symbol of power, a short handled round mace) my brothers!
Tomorrow we go dancing against Moskovites (Russians)
We will dance Gopak (Ukrainian national dance, began in 16th century, men returning from battle would re-enact and perform feats like the balletic leaps the dance is known for. Dance is also popular in other slavic countries), we have the strength
Ukraine is not dead yet, as long as we keep drinking well:
Borsht, salo (smoked pig fat), onion, bread, moonshine,
Drink, and eat,
I drink, I drink, I drink!
Those who were sent here (spies),
They are covered in glitter,
We spit on them.
Artists, stylists, move aside [can’t tell]
Lip-stick, gay-parades, and in Rada (Ukrainian parliament) everyone is like that.
I don’t want to, I can’t, but for salo, let’s do it.
Here’s my bulava my brothers!
Tomorrow we go dancing against Moskovites
We will dance Gopak, we have the strength
Ukraine is not dead yet, as long as we have salo!
Borsht, salo, onion, horseradish, moonshine,
Drink, and eat,
I drink, I drink, I drink!
Given that it’s racist humour it’s cool that I’m throwing it out today.
Said the mammogram technician. Anyway, I have booked one for May, and it’s relatively local, so all is good.
Yesterday I did two loads of laundry, and thanks to Suzanne the bathrooms are shiny again. She’s settling into her new apartment at Kingsway and Gilley (SOOOO CLOSE) and is probably going to get Alex for an overnight soon, when her apartment’s all shoved back into corners. Katie helped her assemble all her computer-y stuff like a boss.
Slept FANTASTIC. Went to sleep just after 8, woke up around 4. I may not nap tidday, boys!!!
Jeff bought me a burger and shake from Wet Spot, and it was fantastic.
I am very close to being finished writing Mary’s letter but I think it should be at least another couple of pages longer.
No kudos this morning… what a sap I am. One must be motivated from the inside.
Recent uproars on the internet:
person 1 – I ain’t taking my shoes off in your skanky ass house cause your floors are heinous and I don’t give a shit about your cultural constructs appears magically on line. THERE ARE OPINIONS
(this is all part of the editors in NA on line venues looking for ways to shit on Asian people during the Olympics, how rude)
person 2 – I ain’t putting up with your skanky ass shoes in my house because you fucking people walk through broken glass and dogshit and then march all over my new laminate floors and you laugh when I point out the scratches
person 3 – (allegra) I brought orthotic slippers to help me keep my feet warm and keep my balance, if you prevent me from wearing my indoor slippers you’re an ableist fuck and I ain’t enterin’ your skanky ass house (I didn’t actually say this, I never found a venue, so here it is on my own site) and if your floors actually are dirty I won’t fucking care but if there is a shrine in the house of course I’ll take my fucking slippers off do you think I’m a clod, deaf to the songs of the gods?
Vocabulary review: skanky – cheap, dirty, slutty, low-rent, low-class; – ass – added for emphasis.
Got a comment hijacked by a comment bot on Reddit this morning. Didn’t even notice until someone picked it out of the crap pile for me. It’s one of the funniest lines I ever wrote so of course some witless algorithm steals it.
Jeff and I are continuing to enjoy Peacemaker (it is rude, it is funny, it is freaky, it is scary) and Leverage (well written, clips along, very very formulaic and light hearted, which compared to the grimdark we watch most of the rest of the time is GOOD).
Have some Ice from Iceland to go along with today’s fog. It was 5 degrees and rain blowing horizontal, if you wonder why it’s so dull, almost four years ago, May 2018.
this is the picture of a man who threatened to blow up a casino with a grenade he had previously secreted up his ass…. The face of a man who conned a policeman into giving him a free prostate exam…
Brian Gower, 46, faces one count of making threats of conveying false information concerning an act of terrorism after the incident Friday morning.
According to police, Gower was arrested at The Strat Hotel and Casino after threatening to “blow the building up,” officers wrote in an arrest report.
by: David Charns
Posted: Feb 7, 2022 / 05:54 PM PST / Updated: Feb 7, 2022 / 11:21 PM PST
Got the absolute longest, sweetest and most detailed message about one of my fics this am… great way to start the day. Still no letter for Mary.
Got to feel chickadees landing on my hand yesterday. I am not supposed to feed wild birds in parks but I was feeding them ORGANIC Styrian raw unsalted sunflower seeds at 20 bucks a bag so NO COMPLAINTS AND THEN Paul and I got to watch seven mountain jays appear screeching out of the trees … in their breeding plumage AND THEN we got to see one of the local red-winged blackbirds from two meters away and the sun was on it as it grabbed millet from a stump and it too was it its breeding plumage, and the world is better than it was yesterday.
Came up with another fic idea, this one about a part time driving instructor and his socially awkward adult student. I think this one may be 25 -40 k… I have lots of ideas.
Speaking of lots of ideas Jarmo has tons of them now for businesses and products, now that he’s retired. Some of them sound massively wacky, but one in particular? THAT ONE I want to bankroll, because it’s an accessibility idea for computers…
two loads of laundry yesterday and fed Paul lunch of lentil soup and cole slaw. Got fish and chips delivered for supper.
Jeff and I are thinking of actually going out for breakfast, which is insane, but we got told about a new breakfast place by Chris Campbell at the Burnaby Now. I want him to stop being an editor and merely do restaurant reviews. If you go to r/Burnaby people hate on him so fucking much, but I love him because he has an honest and distinctive human voice and BELIEVE ME not all local journos do.
I was in truth watching this video.