Tug

Feminist comments welcome. Photo courtesy Library Of Congress via Flickr

Published in: on July 31, 2011 at 1:11 pm  Comments (6)  

Saturday Blu

Droid photo from my last doc visit

Chris and Ashley are continuing the yard sale at our house today; Carolyn chose not to participate this time. Sammy is sleeping in his crib which is right behind where I am sitting. He is a bit restless and so I will be lucky to get any learning into his memory.
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Still haven’t gotten the “Life is Good” Blu-Ray player to stay connected to the internet; I will give LG one more chance to tell me how to correctly fix it. I have to leave it perpetually “on”; the internet setup as a big hassle. If they cannot satisfy me, I will return it to Amazon and get a Roku receiver in its place. The LG provides a beautiful display for our DVD’s and Netflix movies, but I am an miser and don’t like to leave anything or anyone turned on when they are not being used.
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Netflix needs to get its streaming movie list improved; most of the shows are junk and even old movies that are popular cannot be found. For instance, I have never seen Ocean’s 11 starring George Clooney but Netflix doesn’t offer the 10 year old flick in its lineup. Instead, it offers one starring Fran Sinatra from 1960. I suppose the movie companies control some of this, but Netflix should be able to do better.
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No video today; I can’t test them out with Sammy asleep behind me.
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Last weekend in July … make it a good one!

Published in: on July 30, 2011 at 9:57 am  Comments (10)  
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Mis-made modern miracle machines


Thin Lizzy
is one of the most underrated rock bands in the history of history. I think their little foray into the world of disco hurt them immensely with mainstream rockers, but if the front man had not died, I believe they would have been forgiven and gone on to receive the acclimation that most of their music deserved.

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I’m still here … since about 3pm Wednesday, I, along with JJ and Carolyn, have been trying to get the Blu-Ray player to stay connected to the internet when it is powered off, and trying to get Netflix to work when the Blu-Ray player (with internet receiver built in) is working. Finally got Netflix on after two calls to support but still when I turn the player off, it disconnects from the router and I have to use my laptop computer while sitting in front of the TV and go through a reconnect procedure to get back on the net. We twice contacted LG, the maker of the Blu-Ray player, and they had me reset the machine back to factory defaults, go through the entire setup procedure once more, but it did not fix the problem. All I can do is leave the player on all the time. I suppose I will return the player to Amazon and try some other device to make this stuff work.
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Sammy is over while his mom runs errands; so far he has grunted and slept. He doesn’t seem to be in any mood for further training in the fine art of being a desirable stud so I will hold off to later. Chris and Ashley are going to try to finish the rain-shortened yard sale tomorrow; I will maybe have some chances to continue his education when no one is looking or listening.
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Have a super weekend!

Published in: on July 29, 2011 at 12:37 pm  Comments (4)  
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Night Train to Istanbul

My second post for this day; what do you do when sleeping is difficult?

A splitting headache awakened me, and my world quickly slipped toward a bottomless hell.

Another night of little sleep, laying awake many hours wondering what kind of keyboard logorrhea I could feed my loyal blog readers for another day. Having failed to come up with any pertinent or witty prose, I at last fell back into the gentle arms of Morpheus. The sleep was ragged and didn’t last long; I again was wide awake and feeling very cramped as if my entire body had been stuffed into a box that was many sizes too small. My glowing watch was in front of my face, and it happily read 2:20 and I assumed it was morning because the world was otherwise extremely dark.

Something was oddly wrong, however; I wear my watch on my left arm but its face was upside down and the numbers were backward as if my left arm had changed place with the right one. I also had a sense of movement throughout my head and there was quite a lot of vibration and noise to accompany my beginning notes of distress. I tried to move my arm so the now brilliant timepiece would not be so close to my eyes but it would not budge. The effort caused a drop of sweat to roll from my forehead, across my eye, and down the side of my nose which tickled immensely. I attempted a scratch with my right hand but it refused to move and I had no sense of even having any arms at all.

Had I followed little Alice into a hellish Wonderland adventure?

Consuming my nose was a god-awful stench emanating from all around me and I wondered if I had farted; if so, it was one worthy of writing home about. Everything seemed oddly misplaced; my head still ached and there was a burning sensation all around my neck, my shoulders, and my pelvis. It was then I heard the whistle blow and the entire horrid scene was pictured in my mind. The unnerving whistle was some distance away as it occasionally went off and only a European railway engine makes that ear-splitting screech. As the scene slowly developed in my confused brain, I heard the endless clickety-clickety-clickety of a train traveling merrily along its rails and my dire situation suddenly enclosed me more tightly than could an asylum straitjacket.

I actually was in a box that was too small for my body; my arms and legs had been severed from my torso but the greatest disappointment was the realization that my head had also been removed and tossed into the box along with my body and appendages, all in a willy-nilly fashion. The accompanying stench must have been from my bowels breaking loose when my head was removed; the refried beans, the meatballs, and the beer I had for supper was having a final but glorious curtain call. Another insult befalling me was at times my head would roll from side to side with movements of the train and I would pick up a splinter in the tip of my nose from the rough-cut wood. I desperately wanted to sneeze but my present predicament deemed it impossible.

It took me only a moment to realize I was on a night train to Istanbul; I have forever desired to visit that crossroads of the ancient world, a timeless city where so many cultures, nationalities, and religions collide and mingle. A city ripe with mysteries and with intrigue hiding behind every closed door in the narrow streets and alleyways. And I have always wanted to go there by night train, the romantic Orient Express tugging at my wanderlust.

I was in a rough wooden box or container of some kind, my body dismembered, and riding in a boxcar which was streaking through the darkness behind a deafeningly noisy train engine. It must have been a boxcar, mostly empty and echoingly hollow sounding; I was definitely not carry-on luggage and my stench would have been most noticeable. I think I at least deserved a coach ticket, if not a first-class berth.

At last and after what seemed like many hours, I felt the train slowing as I wondered how I had gotten myself in another fine mess; I again looked at my askew watch and it was proclaiming 2:35; my precarious situation had unfolded in my mind in only 15 minutes. For some cosmic reason, my head was still alive with all faculties seemingly intact, and I made up my mind that I was somehow going to right this heinous wrong that had been committed against my person and that somebody besides myself was going to rue this particular day.

To be continued … I come face to face with a world renowned surgeon.

Published in: on July 27, 2011 at 12:38 pm  Comments (8)  
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Mid-week hugs

Even CNN superstar Piers Morgan seems about to fall because of the ongoing phone-hacking scandal in England, or maybe he will fall because he was unwise enough (stupid?; mean?) to ever get involved in something like that to begin with. For profits, CNN long ago decided to do away with most of their hard news coverage in favor of a tabloid tell-all format. Over the years they have had some doozies; with Nancy Grace vying with Glen Beck as the goofiest. They seem to be vying with Fox News to see which one can hire the most outrageous airheads. If I were Wolf Blitzer, I would enter a monastery from which never to emerge; he was once a very good political reporter and deserves better than being castrated on tabloid TV. Money talks.
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I hope Jola will get us some photos of this “house” if she has the time. maybe D. could get one with her standing in front. I could lose a few more pounds of weight and be happy living in one of these.
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Have a good mid-week; surprise someone with a hug … preferably me!
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Published in: on July 27, 2011 at 11:55 am  Comments (4)  
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