Saturday, February 06, 2016

Lawsuit Complete


 SO, let me get it sorted. 5.7 million dollar (U.S.), is won and the thing is, it came from some COMMENT someone made, (must have been SOME comment), which "offended" someone, and then, they, to 'sort' them out, "planted" drugs on this person, a 'teacher', I think. And then, this person, got, you know, in trouble, probably. But now, obviously, every 'thing' is "all" right. Person could buy a boat now. Now, the person, can hope is, return to 'normal' work, and the students can, in time, do so well that, they buy this person, a 'boat', if they wanted. Yeah. I guess this makes for a "happy" ending.

The Take Away, or Moral, of the "story" would be: Don't fuck with people. Get a thick skin. People are going to say things about you. How bad can it be? Bad enough to plant drugs on someone in order to 'sully' their "reputation"? Fuck that fuck! Talk about hooping up some BAD kharma for yourself. Dumb Move, to say the least. Stupid, outright. Don't do chickenshit like that. Get over it, you know? Sheesh!

Friday, January 29, 2016

Inconclusive Crap

Well, 45 minutes later, and, though my nurse practitioner didn't say anything about what happened or what actually was done, well, she thinks nothing much is, as far as signs go, nothing is probative. So, maybe that's why. Didn't get much of a bead on any thing. Seems like we all just wasted one another's time. Well, that's idiotic of life. Very dumb.

Friday, January 08, 2016

We'll Be Done In Just A Moment

 We'll be done in just a moment, it says but of course it's been saying this in a pop up for almost 2 days now. Such is the life of a patient man on wifi router hook up and nothing else better to do for the time being. Of course, we'll pop down every now and then to check up on the laundry we should have been doing hours and hours ago, but we've been terribly busy reading. Yes, reading. Damn straight. Enough of that wonderful beautiful stuff. We're reading now a book called:
STORIES I TELL MYSELF, by JUAN FITZGERALD THOMPSON. I highly recommend it.

Monday, December 28, 2015

AND SO


 And so, you have a company, you've been dead for low on 100 years, and your company still cranks out stories for the screen that promote moxie driven chutzpah full of it inexperienced youthful people, in this case 2 girls in 2 separate films, and, there could be more, (and this is perfectly fine, but you know I just wish someone buy mine-yes, bitter), ‎who somehow charge over and through all the scenery, catching on in seconds to what would take real people in real life a life time, some of us...and, yeah, it's only a movie and maybe this explains Joseph Campbell's Hero Of A Thousand Faces, but what I know of heroes is that they don't have dog tags, they have toe tags, if even they have a body. They put dog tags away and went on a mission so secret not even their bosses would recognize them or their actions. In fact, maybe they'd be put shot for treason. Who knows? Most of us will NEVER hear of or from them. They're ghosts, appropriately so. They live and they die behind the smokescreen of the cognoscenti the powers that be want you to believe is the 'reality of the world'. They, these heroes make the real sacrifices. And film makers and actors are no heroes, but do get life handed to them to make films and act in films life lived by heroes, which real people in turn may want really to emulate, and that is a dangerous thing, esp sic we find out some times later we went off to war only because a president had a small dick complex or wanted to marry his third cousin twice removed, or whatever bunch of dog shit as that. It's not only unconscionable, it's untenable, to, for, of, by, me, but, it happens. It exists, and, well, it will continue to, I reckon, forever, because humans are simply incapable of changing out of their wicked nature's for long. They're basically UN-REDEEMABLE! They thwart abdicate, threaten and thrive it seems on torture and killing of one another, any old thing to get what for them it seems real as love for their own damned selves. Yes. That's right. They all seem to do it, for LOVE. Yes. I know. It gives it a foul head up a frog's ass taste in y'all's mouth, don't it? And so, what's the point in all this crap, all these "shenanigans"? Nothing, I don't reckon. And so, there it is. Life in a nut shell. Peanuts, for, some are good and some bad. So what? And so.

Saturday, December 26, 2015

26650 BATTERY TO KEEP ON GOING

STEVE HARVEY wishing everyone a Merry Easter was an odd headline for me, getting on line the other day. I'd just come to the conclusion that, we're all planets or bubbles, and going for happiness is the thing.
Saw a movie or a snippet of a classic with Cary Grant as this angel or something pouring wine into glasses over and over again with just a pointing of his black and white finger film so old...and then he said something about us all being from different planets and it's how or why we're all unique and what makes things interesting. I recalled an old article in Mirabella, the long defunct, to my knowledge women's magazine where someone quoted Unamuno saying inside our heads are universes, and thought rang out where we're all searching for happiness, and if you want, you can put 100 dollar bills rolled up inside those plastic Easter eggs and shove them up your arse. And, if you want you can hop out naked in your back yard, with bunny ears and a big fluffy cotton tail, fangs with blood and poop out the eggy-weggs for all the neighborhood children if you enjoy that kind of thing. You know? MERRY EASTER!!! Whatever floats your boat melts your butter turns your stomach or what as that. I mean, it'd be foolish to tell a psychopath or even a sociopath to DO YOUR OWN THING, but, basically it's what we all want for our selves...to do whatever the thing is that moves us, finds us in bliss and be able to do it forever. To do so and be in contentment. Making it happen and not being interrupted or permanently stopped or even slightly waylaid all along the way. That's it in a "nut" shell, right?

Friday, December 04, 2015

PLEASE SELECT FROM OUR LIST OF SUPPORTED BROWSERS

PLEASE SELECT FROM OUR LIST OF SUPPORTED BROWSERS

 At least blogger suggests that you can't write with them any more, and tumblr just ignores you. While actually, both with some due diligence, allow you to write with them from your pc, only blogger of the two allows me still to send posts via email, without any extra text and allows me to see on the dashboard page, the whole posted text. Tumblr on the other hand posts extra text and if you are on the dashboard page, the title is the only thing that is revealed, and, I cannot edit it at all.
 Word Press works in any set circumstances, but, so, why don't I use it more? I cannot understand why I just won't delete my accounts. I don't even post on livejournal any more, or haven't in yonks. That one takes a special deal of using my pin number to do it via email. I cannot handle any of this dogshit any more. Why I even fucking bother. I want Tumblr to work, because my posts are right there with others in an ongoing live post with like minded idiots vis-à-vis facebook. Like real clever people on it instead of the crap shit fb has, which is why I've all but left it behind.

well at least

At least blogger works and wordpress works as far as writing an email and not having to get all this diacritical markings bullfuckshit in the text body of the blog post. But not tumblr. Oh no. I can blog from the desktop browser and not get it, but not from sending an email from the phone. I used to be able to, but somehow yahoo happened and all that got changed. No wonder people get all bent out of shape. I w....

Saturday, November 28, 2015

YOU ARE SO RUDE!!

  I'm so rude and crude online. But, damnit, I'm not getting what I want need or am implicitly promised when it comes to internet or wireless "service", and the internet is dogshit of late. Probably because it's all you know, another shooting. Someone goes off. Well, Colorado. Guns and Dope. DUH!? Dunno. Dunno. Dunno. Dunno. At least we just are rude with words and we self immolate. It really should be a practice for more people. People should NEVER be able to strike out at another person, whether it's with guns knives or drones. People should just blow up from the inside, you know? There should be rooms booths alongside highways and in office buildings with vents and sound proofing. It's no one else's fault for your anger outburst right? Go off by your self and destruct on your own, sans harming another soul or property, you know what I mean? Even the Buddhist monks in Vietnam, they'd just douse their self in petroleum and flicker Bic or Zippo and be done with it.


Just Who Are All These Jackasses?

Who are all these jackasses at 6 o'clock in the morning in their nylon jackets and shorts, socks with slip-on sandals and messed up head hair going into the coffee shops on Saturday mornings late November before the sun comes up? High Blood Pressure Testosterone Supplement quaffing assholes out for the paper before more ball games begin on the TV?
You and I both can't stand these people and it's not enough to take our guns away but we won't shoot them. No way. The world needs assholes. What else is there to write about but love? When there's anger and hate, it's well defined. Words come together, feeling's divine. Just like love, forever and ever. All down through the ages and ages. So Be It. The End.