Daily Archives: June 8, 2017

Long Time, No?

Greetings, salutations, and a hearty shit howdy, friends and neighbors!

In the event you were subjected to my last, now deleted post, rest assured that the matter is completely resolved and has been since just before I deleted the thing. It seems that in order to bounce one must first hit bottom. So it goes. Ain’t no sense getting married if you aren’t going to stand by your mate while she suffers a painful period of personal growth.

I’ve been looking at the headlines every now and then… I won’t do myself the violence of reading the articles beneath. The only rational conclusion, upon piling up the day’s headlines and considering the pile as a whole, is that our hand basket ride will end at the predictable destination. It hardly seems worthy of comment, there being only so many ways to elaborate the obvious and all of them having been driven into the ground already.

We heard from our eldest the other day, for the first time in two years. I believe she was telling the truth when she said it was a misdial, so don’t expect to hear from her again any time soon. Which is perfectly okay.

I’m giving up the tobacco… was supposed to be cold turkey today and almost was, but my brain was stuck idling in neutral so I smoked a cigarette hoping to unstick the mental processes. I feel like I inhaled poison and didn’t even get the mental bump I sought… guess it’s time to switch to marijuana, eh? 😀

The pot shop I frequent lowered their prices for some reason I neglected to ask about. A half-ounce of Durban Poison for $140 ain’t a bad deal compared to black market prices, I don’t suppose, but given that it’s only marginally more costly to produce cannabis than hydroponic tomatoes and we just scored hydro tomatoes for less than a buck a pound I’m pleased but not joyful about the discounted weed.

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Miss Awesome was on a prescription diet due to making diamonds in her pee… the diagnosis came within a week of getting her spayed so we didn’t associate the weight gain and lethargy with the expensive food. A while back she started puking the stuff up and then just refused to eat it… I’ve decided that I’m going to trust her to know more about being a cat than the vet does. Canned Friskies with additional water has proven so far, after more than half a year, to be sufficient to prevent the crystals, bring her weight back down to a healthy normal, and return her former energy and playfulness, too. It surely does look like she knows more about being a cat than the vet does.

Starr, AKA Snoogins, Snert, Snooginator, or Waggletail Chihuahua-monster, has epilepsy… not gonna trust the vet with that, either, and will instead start adding CBD oil to her food. It’s cheaper, far more effective, and less wicked than pharmaceutical poisons anyway.

Just because I find it hilarious:

I’m calling it one hundred percent win for Presidente Fox, the only person on the planet actually saying it all correctly. And we just ate fucken tacos, genuine, authentic, no shit learned to make ’em while living in the barrio, proper tacos. Topped with Ranchero cheese, cilantro and onions, minced jalapeño, and (for me) Tapatío salsa picante and a drizzle of lime juice. And fuck anyone who believes my making tacos is cultural appropriation; it’s just eating.

Uh-oh. There is unburned marijuana here. Duty calls.

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