Ron

Yes, yes there was Bill. You just didn't notice the feels.

Do you remember Safety Dance by Men Without Hats? Here is a new song from the band's newest release called A Cause De Toi. Not bad for a late Wednesday afternoon.

Oh my, somebody is making effective use of A.I. in this video. The music is good too. But it might be better with a less-than viral presentation. Having been inflicted with my first cold since the covid pandemic despite my continual wearing of a mask in social areas, I'm absolutely against damn viral bugs of any sort.

Duh!

Oh, I've been a want-a-be rich person at one time or another. One time I got food poisoning of the most-highest degree (Both sitting and bending over, one need fighting with the other at times no less throughout the night.) while visiting friends in London on an extended layover and the evening before a flight to Singapore the next day, late afternoon. Crossed eyed and depleted of electrolytes (I'm sure.), I slowly made my way to the Quantis lounge, where I promptly drank several glasses of orange juice [helpful, unknowingly]. There, through the grace of whatever God you want to pray to, I was able to request one of those airport jockeys with their electric carts to whisk me away to the correct gate for departure (After much assurance on my part that I was capable to make the flight. [Hint, I really wasn't. I needed fluids and antibiotics; that's clear to me now].) when the time came. I was in Business Class, thanks to my former partner for the luxury of it. Afterwards, when everyone had settled through the proscribed prerequisites, I put on my airline-issued jammies and footies in the not-so-cramped restroom for the class I had the privilege to travel in and extended my 'bed' and promptly went to sleep. I suppose I could reduce my post in one summation: Lounges, yea! Just this one time! (Snort)

Please see word of the day: Ethics

So many creatures and so little time. If you don't hear from me sooner, then you'll hear from me later (better later than not at all, I hope).

I’m happy to see that you’re digressing, and the dart wasn’t so keen. 😉

I cannot remember the last time I laughed so hard when reading a story. I began by wiping tears away, then blowing my nose, and I ended up laughing and coughing so hard at one point I had to use my rescue inhaler. "This just in ... A man is found slumped in his chair, his face stuck in a rictus of laughter and with a finger pointing at his computer screen. More news at eleven." The culinary assassination list here is long and perhaps deservedly so in some respects. I recall watching the 2022 Netflix docuseries Down to Earth with Zac Efron: Down Under and being duly impressed by the efforts of those providers and provisioners attempting to get back to nature and sustainability with food sources. Very impressive if not always attainable. In any event ... Bravo. This was a very enjoyable read.

(I somehow feel both immortalized and dismissed at the same time. And damn it, Aaron got that line! It belonged to me; it was right on the tip of my tongue. ) This unexpected monster mash(up) of the authors was a surprise. It's good to have a story that fits the anthology: Monsters? Yes. Feelings? Yes. Comedic relief? Yes. The trifecta for late night viewing, er reading.

I like this partly because I'm a sucker for silly humor and the stories underlying skein. I might have liked it better in a different venue. As it is I see merely the thinnest of connections to the anthology theme, and for that please consider the shoe as having been chucked.

I wanted to like this more than I did. This anthology called for some pizzazz, I think, and I was expecting to read something more akin to that than the opposite.

If we combine Southern Africa with North America and South America and Russia with a side order of Australian seduction, what do we get? Meanwhile, in Massachusetts we are just sitting on one another’s faces.

"antilong" is a Filipino word basically meaning -- comprehension • understanding • the manner or stage of understanding • • grasp • perception • cognition. It is sometimes confused with "antilog" -- which means antilogarithm. Yeah, my nephew is seeking out Philippine women for their perception; cognition; understanding; and meaning for sure. That’s not really his motivation, I can promise you!

You’re missing numbers 1, 6, 7, and 9 no less, and although that’s extremely close to being proficient, achieving 6 positions out of 10 just means that you have room for improvement. Yeah, yeah that’s it … you have room for growth. I’m going to go with that.

Ba-dum — Ching! While I prefer prologue to prolong they both amount to the same thing.* *Damn, I’ve been holding that in for a long time. I’m glad to finally get it off my chest.

Sort of like: looking over your shoulder to see the future.

Exercise! I don't need no stinkin' exercise! Once upon a time I lived in Boston, the big-little city that pulls up the rug incredibly early each night. But it's a great walkable city and I often did so, perambulating North, South (Although not too far South - lots of homeless and the too often associate drug addicted who hung out there ), East and West. If I got tired the MBTA transit system was there to get me home. Now, I live in the North Coast area of MA (So called because it's North of Boston ) and traveling on the MBTA takes lots of planning (Upwards of 2.5 hours each way to get to Boston. The border to Salem, which has already begun with the Halloween festivities, is a long block-and-a-half away but a bus trip takes 45 minutes to get to the core business district). I have no car and so I must walk (That's the exercise part) when possible (Barring torrential rains - we are in drought - or hurricane winds and blizzards). I chose the area because of the amenities such as pharmacies (2) and grocery stores (2) are within reach of a short or longer hike (just over a mile or just over two miles round trip), I get to choose. I also must walk down and walk back up a good-sized hillock to begin and end my trips as part of the walking mileage.

Those people are merely rightly challenged.

I don’t know, dude. It strikes me that this is eerily similar to the exalting of exaltation … which I have already wondered might be exhausting, although I did ask for a friend.

What I want to know is might the exalting of exaltation make one exhausted? Asking for a friend.

"Nooo!" "Nooo!' "Nooo! Say it isn't so!" "Umm... "

I’m going to write a story just for you. I’m going to begin with, “You. Yeah, you.” You may think you’re impervious to my machinations (much sniggering), but you aren't. You will succumb. You will fall, just like everyone else, and you will delight in my every word. — The Mule.

I like this word. Merely saying it gives me a frisson of expectation! ”Frisson; Frisson; Frisson.” Ooh, ooh, ooh — goosebumps! Every time.

“Let’s get technical, technical. I wanna get technical. Let’s get into technical. Let me hear your physics talks; your physics talk. Let me hear your physics talk. Let’s get technical, technical. I wanna get technical … .” I paraphrase. CRAP! I see @Bill W has beaten me to the punch! Hmm, it seems that when prompted we like minded think alike. (Also, humor is ‘effing’ humorous.)