If it’s Friday, it must mean leftovers . . .

Friday evening, partly cloudy and very cold (especially when you’re out of firewood), 36 degrees.

For the last three nights, a stabbing migraine has arrived around 3 a.m. I would say that I woke up with a migraine, but I was still awake at 3 a.m.  It’s a long story involving dogs, puppies, goats, a revolving open door, and Corey’s snoring . . . I’m saving my pennies to buy a used copy of A Very Stable Genius for some soothing, nighttime reading to combat my insomnia . . .

Today’s leftovers are brought to you pretty much exclusively by the site called Liberal Memes. Hey, I’m cold and lazy, but I wanted a leftovers post. Whatever.

Enjoy. Or not, as the case may be.


Orwell has been proven right time and time again:

Our national health and survival in the face of a worldwide pandemic depends on an educated, informed, efficacious response and approach by an administration filled with people whose only talent required for employment is the enduring ability to kiss ass:

Just saying . . .

Talking to you, Susan Collins . . .

Corey has never gotten over Bloomberg trying to regulate soda size in NYC . . .

It’s all a liberal plot:

And finally, let me close with these:

SOCIALISM! IT’S SOCIALISM!

Who cares what the evidence shows. We don’t want socialism. The U.S. isn’t a socialist country . . . Just don’t take away existing benefits/programs like Social Security, Medicare, fire and police departments, public libraries, military defense, the USPS, garbage collection, public schools, the VA, public parks, the GI bill, SSDI, school lunch programs, WIC, and many, many others, including the CDC, which we really need right now. All of these products and services rely on taxpayer funds to benefit our society as a whole. You know . . .

SOCIALISM………………………………..

If it’s Friday, it must mean leftovers . . .

Major computer problems continue, as does the insomnia. Vertigo is a bit better. All in all, more of the same. I haven’t done one of these in a while:

If it’s Friday, it must mean leftovers . . .

More cowbell!

Just one, but it’s a classic that features the incomparable Christopher Walken (and really, do you need anything more when he’s around?):

If it’s Friday, it must mean leftovers . . .


“For we all of us, grave or light, get our thoughts entangled in metaphors, and act fatally on the strength of them.” ~ George Eliot, from Middlemarch

Friday afternoon, drizzle, 48 degrees.

Another week without much production on my part. I’ve spent over a week trying to coordinate the delivery of my next Aimovig shot, and the entire process has been unnecessarily tedious and difficult, talking with different reps each day, being told different things each day, being told delivery was scheduled only to find that it has not been scheduled.

As I’m getting this medication free, I probably should not complain, but what bothers me the most is that I have been unable to introduce this medicine into my system uninterrupted; it’s one of those things that needs consistency to work best, so because of the hiccup in delivery, I’m starting over.

Things like this tend to consume my attention, which means that everything else falls by the wayside, which, most especially, means posting (or not posting, as it were) with any regularity. Add to this the stress resulting from the omnipresent impeachment hearings, and my daily allotment of brain cells burns up far too quickly.

I know. I could not pay attention to the politics, and I could ignore the incompetence of the people giving me incorrect information, but you and I both know that I won’t.

Oh well . . . . . . Have some leftovers . . . . . . . . .

Today is the birthday of British writer George Eliot, pen name for Mary Ann Evans (November 22, 1819–December 22, 1880). You can read about her here.


Need this:

Yep.

image

This explains Japan’s love affair with all things Kit Kat related:

It never fails to happen . . .

image

Too true, that . . .

Took me a second . . .

Do I detect a bit of sarcasm?

The memes are vicious today:

And finally:

“All things came close and harmless first thing this morning, a new trick of light. Let’s learn that trick. If we can, it will mean we live in this world” ~ Richard Hugo, from “Distances”

The Bystander, England, August 15, 1928

If it’s Friday, it must mean leftovers . . .

Friday afternoon, sunny, 44 degrees.

Pain management appointment at 8:30 am yesterday. I am not awake at 8:30 am; I am not even human yet at 8:30 am. Got a bunch of trigger point injections and talked about pros and cons of imbedded stimulator to treat pain. Still mulling it over. After finally getting home after some run around, I fell asleep fast and hard, woke up for dinner and a few episodes of Bosh, and then went back to sleep. Never fit in a post.

Oh well . . .

So I opened my laptop this morning only to see a headline about another school shooting, this one in southern California: 2 dead, 3 injured. One of the injured students sought refuge in the music teacher’s classroom, and fortunately, the teacher had a trauma kit handy. Let’s just stop for a second to take that in: her classroom was stocked with a trauma kit.

Or how about this: One student interviewed said that his parents had been practicing with him what to do in the event of a school shooting, things like holding a text book in front of his chest to help slow down bullets.

This is who we’ve become. This is how our youth goes to school now, armed not only with tablets and books, but also armed with the knowledge on how they might be able to survive a school shooting. Does no one else find this appalling?

Leftovers seem to contradict the solemnity of our current national state of affairs. Then again, perhaps leftovers are one of the only ways of getting through the day amidst all of the assaults on our senses, our beliefs, our psyches.

Enjoy . . . hope you can . . .


An unfortunate truth:

Good advice:

Circular logic, republican style:

I never knew this—our goats and horses seem to get along well:

Way to make a statement, Berlin:

Just consider: It had to be the overweight, bloated Elvis who did this, and still he managed to get them to stop just with his presence:

And finally, food for thought:


Music by Deftones, “Be Quiet and Drive” (acoustic version)

If it’s Friday, it must mean leftovers . . .

Geez, people. It’s her money……….

Friday afternoon, sunny, 53 degrees.

A motley collection today . . .


Comment not necessary:

Um, crystal clear, yeh?

The more you know . . .

imageimageimageimageimageimageimageimage

I threw up in my mouth a little when I saw the clip showing Trump doing this:

If it’s Friday, it must mean leftovers . . .

Clarion-Ledger, Jackson, Mississippi, July 10, 1935

Friday afternoon, cloudy and mild, 77 degrees.

So I sat at this computer for hours yesterday and produced absolutely nothing, not a single word. It’s not that I have writer’s block as I can think of at least four different things that I want to write about; it’s more that I can’t get my mind to focus enough to get started. I decided today that I’d just start and let it takes me wherever it takes me.

On Wednesday I had an appointment with my pain management group to find out the results of Monday’s MRI. So it turns out that I have a couple of bulging discs at the top of my spine, and they’re bulging towards my spine. Now I get to see a neurosurgeon for follow up. I told the NP that I’m not going to have another back surgery, not ever again. At least it kind of explains how doing these least little physical activity causes me to hurt like crazy by nightfall.

Too bad, though, as I had to dismiss the entire house staff for failing to keep my shoes polished and buffed satisfactorily. No wait. Sorry. That’s my Downton Abbey life rearing its head again. Damn. I guess that means that the laundry and housecleaning situation isn’t going to miraculously resolve itself. Corey and I had hoped to work on the whole bedroom situation once the weather cools more.

Hmm . . . things that make you go hmm . . .

Have some leftovers. More later. Peace.


Beautimous:

I miss having an intelligent, patriotic president who isn’t driven by pettiness and believes in the Constitution . . .

The more things change, the more they stay exactly the same . . .

Dr. Daniel Z. Gibson, President of Washington College, in the The Star-Democrat, Easton, Maryland, March 19, 1954

Sometimes there’s just too much to choose from:

Lisa was always my favorite: