On Monday and Tuesday of this week I took pictures out the front door of this house. I had put the garbag can, your standard big ass garbage can of this day and age, designed to be lifted by a small forklift, well, robotic arms, dumped and set back down. 60, maybe 70, gallons, though that’s hardly a measurement that make sense to me; it’s not designed specifically for liquid, most of my trash is solid, and I have no idea what a gallon of Chinese take out boxes is in volume or weight.
A gallon of milk is eight pounds or there abouts, about yay tall and yay wide. Yay!
I took the picture because the way the plows and drifts work to curbside, the trash can looked dwarfed, but the picture was also wide enough to show standing snow, and give a good idea of March in Michigan in 2015. I have thus far decided not to post. Just two stupid picture of a trash can and a lot of snow, one of them badly framed and fuzzy. Someone here asked for them and I thought it would be kind of cute to honor that request. But, that part of the country had a notoriously worse winter.
My dumbass brother in law claims to have frost bite on three toes as a result of — I don’t know, I managed to miss his last visit somehow, the word is second hand. It’s not like you couldn’t have gotten frost bite here this winter, several degrees below zero for several days, but you would have had to have been out in the winter instead of inside a climate controlled house. Frost bite is serious. Usually you lose the phalange. You worry about gangrene and sepsis. It’s bad.
I would be shocked if he ran across this journal and was surprised I thought he was a dumbass, I mean, I’m positive I have called him a dumbass to his face. It’s ok, I’m sympathetic to a lot of conditions that could cause a stunted intellectual development. I reserve the term dumbass for those who think they are either very intelligent (my brother in law claims his IQ is so high “they” couldn’t measure it. The closest I’ve gotten to a direct answer as to who “they” were are “doctors”. Dumbass.) or who are usually fully functional until they get behind the wheel (it’s my go to word for people who brake in front of me for no reason, or switch to my lane without a signal and damn near find the front end of my jeep up their dumb ass.).
He likes to identify with groups that are trending, he considered himself a computer nerd or geek for a while because the genuinely genius level folks around him (my sister and father for instance) didn’t know anything about computers, though the former knows how to use them. He currently considers himself a foodie. Keep in mind whatever is trending on either coast takes a while to make it to the heart-land. I don’t even know where to start with that. I’ll keep it simple. My sister is actually a good cook. Oh, and BIL can’t manage to prepare a meal without cutting or burning himself. Granted, better him than someone else, still, being inept at adequate food prep does not a ‘Foodie’ make. Also, about a month into any given trend, it becomes not an accolade but an insult. He still thinks he is a yuppie, for instance, though 64 and unemployed, which, when taken out of yuppie just leaves pee).
Huh. Maybe I’m in a bad mood. I’m bitching about someone you don’t know and who is beneath my contempt and there’s a large margin under there. The mild cold I haven’t seemed to be able to shake all winter has gotten gross lately and gives the illusion of making it hard to breathe. My doctors are useless, I mean to me, I’m sure they could do the Heimlich at a charity dinner, and so I’ve been loading up on Flonase, mucinex and fishermans friend (yes, ricola for flavor, fishermans friend if you expect a cough drop to actually do anything, at bare minimum they put the fear of god into your taste buds). Um, for those of you who haven’t heard of it, it’s a cough drop that can double as dry wall or, possibly, a bio weapon. It cannot be used as bait unless you are fishing for suicidal fish.
Last week I smoked one analog cigerrette. It was stale and tasted like a camp fire. I don’t know why I smoked it. I am glad I am not smoking analog cigarettes. I have stepped away from every Vaping discussion I’ve seen. It reminds me a bit of abortion discussions. My opinion on abortion is not the sort of thing that needs to be screamed in the streets. Of course I think they should be legal, the arguments against are non arguments (like immortal souls and stuff, people who believe a Tsunami can kill a thousand people because it’s god will seem to think he’s helpless to prevent an abortion with his will) but, I’ve never met anyone who wasn’t traumatized by their singular or multiple abortions; physically, mentally, emotionally. I’m not red faced yelling in the streets in favor of abortion, I’m against sharing trauma with a kid for his/her entire life. Another mark against a god that needs extremists to shout vitriol to enforce his will, but is perfectly fine with fucking up an unwanted child because he’s born with a soul — ok, I’m not up on the rhetoric, but there’s a lot of nonsense in the vaping arguments involving shit that really has nothing to do with nothing. I just can’t see how I can add anything of value to either debate. I’m against damaging things, but when both sides are damaging I’m in favor of the least damaging, it’s just not a position to hoot and holler about. It’s an internal dialogue for, I believe, everyone.
Wow, yeah, shit. I just meant to write an entry for no other reason than I think I should write things from time to time so that when there is something I really want to write it doesn’t feeling unusual and awkward. This is a mess. Be nice to one another.
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