Truly, I have no words.
“My head is bloody, but unbowed.” ~ William Ernest Henly, from “Invictus“
Friday afternoon, cloudy and cooler, more storms, 77 degrees.
Well the appointment yesterday went much better than the first. They’re checking into my request for Aimovig, and if for some reason it doesn’t get approved, I’m going to try Botox again. I had really hoped that I’d outgrow my migraines, you know, like you outgrow acne, but not so much. The heat and humidity always does me in, and the other day I just felt like crawling into a cave somewhere and never coming back out.
Anyway, this is day three of this particular episode, and I still have that lingering tightness around my skull. I’m hoping that’s how it stays and that the intense pain doesn’t decide to rear its ugly head again.
Here’s a weird collection for you—born on August 23:
- Keith Moon, drummer for The Who (1946-1978)
- Barbara Eden, American actress, I Dream of Jeannie (1931)
- Park Chan Wook, South Korean film director, Oldboy (1963)
- Henry Lee Lucas, serial killer (1936-2001), who was born in Blacksburg, VA (didn’t know this tidbit)
- River Phoenix, American actor, Stand by Me (1970-1993)
- William Ernest Henly, British Poet, “Invictus” (1849-1903)
Enjoy. More later. Peace.
You have to appreciate advertising with a sense of humor:
Is it weird that I’d buy this?
Speaking of bathing . . . What do you mean you want soap?
I just don’t know what to say . . .
Man, I love Patton Oswalt:
This is just insane:
Yep, I went there:
A forward-thinking little girl:
And finally, there’s this:
Friday afternoon, partly cloudy and beautiful, 84 degrees.
I’m having problems getting to sleep again; I’m really hoping that this doesn’t turn into another full-blown episode of insomnia. Last night I dreamed I was having a good conversation with Brett’s partner, Dom. I was telling her how much I missed speaking with Brett. She said that she would tell him . . .
I’m hoping that Corey will spray the bugs around the house soon, so that I can venture outside without adding to my huge collection of bites. Oh well.
Hope you like today’s collection. Enjoy.
My nights lately:
In praise of words:
When you realize . . .
I love this picture. One of my earliest memories of is of my father working on a green car while we were living in Navy housing before going to England.
Love this sign:
To the billionaire owner of SoulCycle, Stephen Ross:
And this one, too:
Another one from isn’t:
Great bumper sticker:
Grooming a steer:
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And finally, I love this. I wish that I knew where my old I Read Banned Books button was:
Music by Buffalo Springfield, “For What It’s Worth” (just as relevant today)
Friday night, clear, 79 degrees.
Today I had my first appointment with the pain management center in Abingdon. That’s a post all by itself. Actually made it on time, early in fact. Then we did a few errands. By the time we got home, my back was killing me, so not a lot for leftovers today. Sorry.
More later. Peace.
Never say I didn’t teach you anything:
Oh yeah, I go there:
Music by Long John Baldry, “It Ain’t Easy”
“We are engaged in the search for progression. A story. But some lives do not make a coherent story, all they do is make a sound.” ~ Etel Adnan, from Paris, When It’s Naked
Friday afternoon, partly cloudy, 79 degrees.
So when the goats tried to destroy my laptop, they also killed my mouse. It’s always interesting here.
I’ve been on a British history binge lately, watching documentaries about the War of the Roses, the Plantagenets, Henry VII and VIII, and the time of Stonehenge. I already know a lot of this, but it’s a nice distraction. Whenever I watch things like this, it makes me regret not going into archaeology. I really, really enjoy learning about civilizations, and I think that I would have enjoyed the field.
Since the cable is out, I’ve been binge watching the show The Americans on Amazon Prime. I’m really enjoying it. I had always wanted to watch it, but it was one of those shows that requires dedicated watching so that you don’t miss anything, and at the time, I already had too many shows on my plate. I’m currently on season 5; season 6 is the last season, so I’ll have to find something else to watch after. I tend to watch a lot of TV whenever Corey is gone, just the animals and me . . .
Here’s today collection. Enjoy.
More later Peace.
I miss being near this:
What a great thing:
This whole thing is truly hilarious—it’s a military base; they have guns, bombs, you know, things to keep people out. It was a joke, people:
Nothing Tesla did surprises me any more:
No happily ever after here:
Dumpster obviously never watched Mr. Rogers. It explains a lot:
And finally . . . Okay . . . thanks for the info?
“The air—moist, sultry, secretive, and far from fresh—felt as if it were being exhaled into one’s face. Sometimes it even sounded like heavy breathing.” ~ Tom Robbins, from Jitterbug Perfume
Friday afternoon, partly sunny, expected thunderstorms, 82 degrees.
Apologies in advance to those who are about to be embroiled in a major heat wave. I feel for you. I really do.
I woke up very early scratching bites on my arms and legs. It’s too bad there’s no spot treatment for humans that lasts for 30 days like the ones we use on the dogs. So I took a Benadryl, rubbed some tea tree lotion on my limbs, and tried to go back to sleep, but the dogs woke up rambunctious, which meant fitful sleep with weird dreams.
In the one I had just before I got out of bed, Alexis had gotten in trouble on the bus, and a teacher wrote a four-page report on the event. The only problem was that the writing was so bad that it made no sense. I was appalled, especially because this teacher was so proud of it. I know. I’m critical even in my dreams. By the way, did you know that Filipinos believe that if you dream about poop, (which I did), it means that you’re going to get money? Oh, if only . . .
Enjoy today’s collection. More later. Peace.
Bittersweet . . .
This made me laugh way too much:
The fluffy comedian:
Never thought of this:
I’m in that kind of mood today:
But no one asked me if I wanted the new version . . .
Ivy Levan, “Hot Damn”
If it’s Friday, it must mean leftovers . . .
Friday afternoon, sunny (finally) and cooler, 69 degrees.
We’re trying to wean Roland from the bottle as he’ll be two months old tomorrow, but it’s hard as anytime he sees Zeke getting a bottle, he wants one. I just called Roland to try to get him away from Corey, who was feeding Zeke (a lot of names here, huh?), and Roland actually slid across the coffee table to get to me. I think that one of these goats is getting too big for the house . . .
Today’s collection is brought to you by Benadryl, what I’ve been slathering on my body for weeks now to try to calm the itch. Benadryl. It’s good for what ails you.
Seriously though, I may never venture outside again. Anyway, enjoy.
File under: Amazing but True—People have always been this way . . .
I like to think that this was written just for me:
Celebrating the summer solstice:
I never knew this:
Didn’t know this either:
Cant tell if I’m more bothered by the pigeons or more in tune with the captions:
We take the freshness of our biscuits very seriously, indeed:
My immediate first thought was how can he possibly afford this:
This is kind of arrogant. I mean, what if Mars already has a calendar system?
And finally . . . I shouldn’t be surprised by anything, any more:
*From an article in the Guardian about a Christian group petitioning the wrong company to cancel Good Omens . . .