Monthly Archives: May 2019

After Brunch

08 Wednesday May 2019

Posted by in food, Sexuality, Uncategorized

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Discussing Some Sexuality Stuff.

I had brunch today. Alone. At home. I slept til almost noon. Then I read http://ddjennifer Domestic Discipline Jenny Style episodes 311 and 312. She always has an interesting read. Upon realizing I needed to eat, I fixed huevos rancheros, fresh coffee and a fruit salad. It would have been nicer, had J been here, but she is at work and will be til after 8:30.

I’m reading Olivia’s post about toothbrushes.http://oliviasubmits Is it just me? . It is highly interesting, particularly the comments.

I’ve done some stretches, feel better. I enjoyed my brunch. My immediate goal is to finish my coffee before it gets cold. This is not trivial. My finishing a cup of coffee while still hot is about being “in the moment”, without some jive-ass need to multitask.

So I’m posting this, getting my coffee, and watching The Loving BDSM podcast on YouTube. Later. Yeah multitasking again (insert emojis)🎅😀🐭

Therapy Dog & The Silver Bullet Stretch.

07 Tuesday May 2019

Posted by in Dogs

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As I sit with my ice pack across my shoulder, I feel encouraged that the pinched nerve drama is entering the final act. As dramas go, it is turning out to be comedy, because there is a happy ending. I’m not going to die and I am keeping all my limbs and their respective functions (insert smiley face) ☺.

What has helped is a stretch. Matt the PT showed me one that stretches the right muscles, restoring the way it ought to be. It is not a “1 and done” proposition, but all I need to do is stretch it every hour or so for ten minutes. I’m working up to that ten minutes.

The other magic aspect of PT wss the appearance of a therapy service dog. She belongs to one of the other patients. Her job is help people chill out, by simply being a sweet and attentive dog. I petted her and she leaned into my legs as if she had known me forever. Just remarkable the difference this dog made.

Super Rant

07 Tuesday May 2019

Posted by in American History, Modernism, Politics

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Well shucks, I am still awake. I have a cold pack on my shoulder. I’m watching old cartoons on YouTube. I fixed tacos tonight. From a kit. To tell you the truth, they weren’t bad. I fixed J’s lunch. Tuna salad, mixed fruit compote, some snacks, like cookies,store bought, high end Pepperidge Farm.

Every time I watch the Democratic politicians, I see men and women, whose world is falling apart and they have no way to stop it. I am reminded of then Alabama Governor George Wallace, also a Democrat, standing in a doorway to block integration of the University of Alabama. I am reminded of the Soviet military trying to stop the collapse of the Communist dictatorship in a failed coup thwarted by Boris Yeltsin.

I also think of the brave forgotten Chinese student who tried to stare down a tank in Tienamen Square in 1989. Yeah, sometimes raw naked power still wins. And the Communist state survives in China, ironically supported by global capitalists, and the Holy See of Cardinal Bergoglio (Pope Francis).

It is a crazy world and the narratives that CNN or The New York Times, among others, try to promote as fact are failing to gain traction. People don’t accept what they present as fact without question. Scepticism reigns. And as more of the “Russia collusion” story is shown to be a fabrication, the Democratic Leadership is resorting to bluster and gesture, like their deceased forbearer George Corley Wallace.

The Götterdämmerung of American liberal progressivism is happening now. The repudiation of abortion by Millenials, while pro-choice politicians, like Andrew Cuomo, who support third trimester abortions, is one example. Consider,for example, the success of the film Unplanned or the pro-life rally recently held in Times Square. The liberal progressive decline goes beyond abortion, but abortion reflects so much. China has all but admitted that their “One Child Policy”, that has abortion as the keystone, has set the stage for a demographic collapse. In simplest terms, the abortion ethos is a prescription for cultural extinction, if not other iterations .

What is happening in both the United States and the world at large doesn’t fit the globalist paradigms promoted since the end of World War Two. The global deliberative body, the United Nations, or extranational ruling polities like the European Union are declining. National sovereignty has renewed support among many nations in Europe, Hungary, Poland, Italy, to name three.

The rhetoric used to besmirch the critics of globalism, “right wing populists”, for example, doesn’t turn people away from nationalist parties with the power they once did.

Oblivion is a long road. And a slow trek.

The Post Office

06 Monday May 2019

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Here in the U.S.of A., we joke about the post office, to the point where one of the unintended functions of the United States Postal Service is as a source of humorous anecdotes.

Today I had to return a package to an online merchant. I went to the local branch.This sign in the parking lot said “15 Minute Parking“.

“Shouldn’t be too long”, I say to myself, “if 15 minutes is the top end of a visit.”

Walking in, I see a line at the counter. People are queued up, with parcels and packages to send out. The counters have boxes piled three and four high. There are two clerks at two service stations to handle the crowd. I decide this would be a good day to use the automated kiosk. I press the kiosk’s computer screen, as directed. The next screen tells me I cannot use the kiosk to mail parcels or letters. There is a malfunction, somewhere. Oh well. I go in to stand on queue.

While standing on line, I notice one clerk seems to be spending a lot of time with a couple and their little baby. This couple is applying for passports and this clerk is assisting them. That means we actually have one clerk for everyone else on the line.

Astutely discovering that the line is kinda just poking along, a manager type offers to handle mail pick-ups, drop-offs, and stamp purchases. This syphons off a customer or two. Meanwhile Passport Clerk is administering an oath to the applicants about supporting The Constitution and not giving aid and comfort to any enemies, foreign and/or domestic, The applicants said “Yes!”, they supported The Constitution and promised to not give aid to any enemies, much to the relief of my fellow postal patrons and myself.

By now, I had abandoned all hope of getting out in fifteen minutes. The customers in front of me all had packages, except for the elderly lady with a back brace who used a walker. I believe she was shopping for commemorative stamps, plate blocks in particular .

No sooner had Passport Clerk finished with these two applicants, than a family of four dropped in, all to get their passports, thus taking up more of Passport Clerk’s time.

The line was moving along, but that fifteen minute parking sign signalled an impossible goal. We Wretches With Packages, are known to the postal workers collectively as “Saps”, I am certain.

Finally I get some face time with the clerk.  He rattles off a few mailing options. I go for First Class. They were estimating a three day shipping time to send the package back across the country to Seattle, Washington. And they only wanted to charge $5.66. I promised I was not mailing perfume, volatile liquids, small arms ammunition or Cuban cigars.

I paid the money. They took the package and I was on my way. As I see it, my going to the post office was still cheaper entertainment than going to the movies.

Castor Oil Compress

06 Monday May 2019

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Porngirl3 suggested I make a compress of castor oil on cloth apply the compress to the area affected by pain and then apply heat to the compress for about 30 minutes. Yesterday’s session brought relief. Tonight seems to be working too.

Yes. I did the therapy for about an hour. I feel the difference.

I’m exhausted. Good night, all,

Awake. Pain.

05 Sunday May 2019

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It is almost 4:00 AM. I slept for a couple of hours, when the pain woke me up. I made a pot of decaf, folded some laundry, took some Ibuprofen, and I am watching Curiosity Incorporated. Alex is checking out a Volkswagen Beetle from 1968 that he discovered in a storage shed.

I find distraction to be an important element of pain management. Something to think about besides that I hurt.

Time for more coffee. Maybe I will have a pear too.

Swim. Pain. Aftercare. Postscript.

05 Sunday May 2019

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I did the castor oil compress with heat. Feeling some difference where it was applied.

Actually it feels a lot different about an hour after the treatment. Different as in better.

Until the nerve is no longer pressured, finding useful treatments for the muscles involved are critical. If the muscles can relax, normal activities with minimal aggravation is the goal.

Staring At Devon On A Saturday

04 Saturday May 2019

Posted by in Travel

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I am looking at a scene in Devon, Dawlish, to be exact, looking at the Brunel Railway. A train just went by, a swift, sleek, Vision Of The Future train.

Quite lovely. It’s a coastal scene. There is the English Channel, some cliffs in the distance, people strolling or cycling on the paved walk below the rails. All very England. Somewhere to the left, off camera, is the “sceptered isle” Shakespeare praised.

I look out at the sea. I’m reminded of what Melville wrote about the sea and bodies of water at the start of Moby Dick. We humans need to look at the sea. We pay big money to do precisely that.

Ever since I found The Magic Of Tidying Up, my house has gotten even messier. That’s probably how we all are. Once I discovered that things aren’t working, the not working part of my life is making its presence more obvious. Were it vocal, Not Working would be screaming.

I can’t decide what to do today, except spend time with J and swim. Definitely swim.

I have heat on my neck and shoulders. I still get “tingles” down my arm. But I will take my problems any day over what other people have to deal with.

My time at the seaside must end. A shower is on the horizon. And brunch. And time spent with my beloved. Later.

Welcome To The World Of Marina Morlok

03 Friday May 2019

Posted by in Uncategorized, YouTube-Videos

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Marina Morlok is a Russian woman in her early thirties who can talk a “blue streak” in Russian. That is no surprise. She is Russian after all. She just opens up her life to the entire Internet, and, as long as her viewers are as fluent in Russian as she is, they can learn about what she eats, what she wears, her makeup, her hobbies and artistic endeavours. We all get to watch her cats, her enigmatic hairless cats, jump about the apartment, and enter and exit the camera frame.

She is now my friend, not really. I merely lurk around the periphery of her life, partitioned by language.

You, Marina, and I are the new peasants in this Mega Domain, hopeful that Soros, Buffett, the Russian Oligarchs, and who knows who else won’t be able to acquire everything, but leave us enough to live on. We’ve been lucky so far.

I fear, sometimes, that there are virtual Courts, the modern version of Versailles, Vienna, Constantinople. They are based on news feeds, the covers of supermarket tabloids, business journals and broadcasts. The news reporters are the news makers. Here are the Murdoch children, There is a television journalist married to a powerful central banker. Here the rich play their games, plot their intrigues, seduce their next lovers. Maybe that next lover that a would-be tyrant takes will be the next Evita for him or her. And our drab lives will find colour in their travel, travails, sport, and dalliances. And somebody will write a musical intended for even more comparing and longing and admiration and envy

If we are smart, we will let Marina Morlok entertain us, rather than the Kardashians or Kennedys. Or whoever else can snag a reporter’s attention and pay a public relations firm enough money.

Now Marina is eating tomatoes, cucumbers, yogurt, and something else. She chatters on. And we love her. She opens the yogurt cup, licks the yogurt off the top, as we all do when we think no one is looking. Would Hillary or Bill, Melania or Donald, pig out like that? Reason enough there not to trust them.

We watch Marina’s cat drink water out of her cup on the table. On the stove it looks like Marina is heating up pierogies in a pot of water, or whatever the Russian equivalent of Polish pierogies may be.

This is my world today. Marina’s groceries have more meaning for me than the pathetic blathering of the inept plotters of the Democratic Congressional Leadership. They are Twentyfirst Century’s most spectacular failures at court intrigue to date. They wouldn’t have lasted a week in Byzantium.