Lessons

 Monday.  The heat dome is gone... supposedly.  Daily highs are predicted to hover in the mid to upper 80s (F).  I can deal with that.  During last weeks high temps, the window unit in the bedroom seemed to struggle at times.  It is over 4 years old, and honestly, I have no idea how long a window unit is supposed to last.  I also realized I should have a thermostat on the 2nd floor to regulate the Central Air.  my downstairs was comfortable, while the 2nd floor would have gotten stinky winky without the window units.

I worked yesterday.  8 hours.  It was boring.  It was the 4th day without our sales figures being updated, so no one knew how well, or how poorly they were doing.  The store figures updated, but our sales figures didn't.

Because the necessary people weren't working yesterday, I didn't get to tell them that I went with Aspen Home Improvement for my windows.  In some odd way, I'm really looking forward to giving them that news.  It's nice to strike out against corporate greed in the names of all those  Mom & Pop hardware stores that were shuttered into non-existence.

I've hit 2 glitches in my replay of Fallout 4, and so, at least temporarily, I've changed to games to Lords of the Fallen, another RPG.  As a result, I spent an hour last evening learning new controller mechanics.  This is a good thing.  Learning creates new neural pathways.  Never stop learning.  

And I suppose everybody knows Justin Timberlake was arrested for DUI.  The young officer who pulled him over had no idea who he was, so Justin is learning a difficult lesson.  Because Justin refused a breathalyzer test, we'll never have any idea just how drunk he was, that, in itself is a pretty good clue as to how intoxicated he was.  Anyway, I don't know his name, but this is the young officer who became a teacher to Timberlake.

And, supposedly, Kristi Noem hasn't received vetting paperwork for the VP position.  Can you hear me laughing?  This bimbo, who went full Trumper in her attempt to get selected, never had a chance, and it wasn't because she shot her dog.  Look at her.  She never realized that the dyed, long hair that supposed to make her look like she's 21, was all wrong.  She should have gone for the porn star look.

Who will be Trump's VP pick?  Well, he no longer has to appeal to the Evangelicals since so many of them have already sold him their souls.  Rubio might help him rack in the Hispanic vote.  Vance might help him rack in the white, hillbilly trash vote.  And Burgum?  He's quite and unassuming.  Supposedly it's between one of these three, so what you really need to do is ask yourself which one is most like Pence?  Which one will disappear into the woodwork?  has anybody learned their lessons?

Pricked

Okay, so today is Thursday... it seems like only yesterday it was... Thursday.  It is Thursday, isn't it?
My 2020 Roar calendar arrived yesterday.  Roar used to be Warwick Rowers.  They've grown.  Now there are coyly posed naked men from other rowing teams, as well as other sports, gracing the months, including Team Sky sports.  I was curious to see if there were any cyclists included, however this year they didn't identify the men.  At least not on the print copy.
And, speaking of cycling, I rode 20.23 miles yesterday as part of one of the challenges I need to complete to move up to Elite cyclist.  It took me 98 minutes.  My legs didn't bother me nearly as much as my butt.  Son of a bitch!  I could feel every stitch of fabric in my shorts when I was finished!
Last night I went to see "Knives Out."  It's a mystery with some serious comic overtones.  I enjoyed the film immensely.  The acting is top notch.  Don Johnson is in it.  I haven't seen him in anything for a long, long time.  He's aging well.  A clean shaven Chris Evans is here too, with really pink lips.  I'm glad to see he's getting roles outside of the 'superhero' genre.  Toni Collette is amazing as Joni, one of the siblings squabbling for a piece of the inheritance pie.  I love a good mystery, and this one's good.  There is a treasure trove of clues and red herrings which delightfully confuse and lead the viewer down the wrong garden path.  And dogs, of course, in fact, one of the first things you see are the dogs.

And I saw where Justin Timberlake made a public apology to his wife for holding hands with someone else.  Can you imagine that?  He found himself suddenly being attacked by all those social media knives.  They are now both judge and jury as to what he can and cannot do.  As I was reading that snippet, I began to wonder just who these people were, the one who dictate to Justin how he lives his life.  It took me all of about 2 minutes.  You see, right after seeing that headline, I went over to Amazon to look for a digital clock for the cycling room.  Lo and behold, they were advertising the Chris Pratt store on their Home Page.  The Chris Pratt store?  That's when I knew just who exactly Justin was afraid of... the same group who buy shit from the Chris Pratt store.  Not too smart, but easily influenced by celebrity.  The last thing their idols want is for them to pull out their sharp, little, vengeful knives.
Just like the Idiot Jerk in the White House, who for so many, many years enjoyed wielding the knife.  Now barely a minute goes by without him being pricked.

The Superbowl and Me

Today is Superbowl Sunday, I know this because yesterday and today you could "wear your favorite jersey to work," and I also had a female customer yesterday who asked "which team are you rooting for?"  You should have seen the look of incredulity on her face when I told her I don't watch football, in fact it was almost as if I'd turned into one of Donald Trump's Mexicans.  I explained that I really like cycling, given the Tour de France, making sure I pronounce France with an American accent just to make sure she didn't think I'd suddenly turned into one of Donald Trumps hated French Mexicans.  Her response?  She said "oh," picked up her paint and walked away.
Honestly, I haven't watched a football game in years and years and years; the sport just doesn't interest me.  Yet Americans seem to think you need to pick a team, root for one side or the other, and buy all sorts of happy horseshit clothing to show your support.  If you don't, they will give you a sideways glance as though you're an embarrassment; not quite as true, blue an American as you should be.  It's the same sort of glance Republicans give Independents, as though their patriotism is somewhat phony.

Anyway, the Superbowl is never really quite what it's supposed to be, a playoff between the two best teams in America.  Nah, it's more about commercials.  It's about throwing a party.  Eats and drinks, and maybe feeling a little too hungover to go to work the next day.  There's a half-time show that doesn't really dazzle when you watch it on TV, and ever since Justin Timberlake exposed Janet Jackson's pastie is very, very PG rated.  Who cares?  I don't.

What am I doing this evening?  Going to see 'Hail, Caesar.'  I'm gong to find out if it's a droll as it's C- Cinemascore says it is.