I offer some suggestions on dealing with the blues. An offering called forth by the disheartening rate of suicides we’re seeing during the Coronavirus lockdown.
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So, I’m currently holding the wee bit of left bollock that hasn’t retreated up my abdomen with the rest of the kit. A feat courtesy of hearing that my shift starts at 4:15 AM. As such I can’t bring you the regularly scheduled joy of disjointed rambles that would make a a schizophrenic shaman on a peyote bender seem like a card carrying Presbyterian freemason. (Yes, I stole that last bit from Billy Connoly.)
Therefore I share with you my gleeful joy in confirming that FATTIES ARE MOST AFFECTED. If you’re a jolly person of size. No beef with you. If you have a glandular problem. I’ve no donut with you. If you just don’t give a fuck. I’ve no quarter pounder with you. Yes, this is the shittiest joke of all time. Welcome to history cunts.
No, the thing I have a problem with is moralizing fatasses wagging wingers (lol that was a typo but imagonnakeepit) at folk exercising because of a HEALTH CRISIS.
While I did fix the audio problem…(it’s now in stereo)
I still dunno why I can’t get Premiere to export my pictures in the original resolution:
Yes, I read from a script today for the most part. I’m a bit too tired these days to do unscripted stuff all of the time.
Here it is for those who’d prefer to read:
Yes, that’s wonderful. Took a ride round town come evening time. There is something magical in these cool Carolina nights.
I must remark on the immense psychological benefit of exposure. How essential it is to appreciating the comforts of hearth and home.
With all the wonderful amenities that modern living provides us indoors venturing out is sometimes difficult. Sucking you in like a well worn couch.
A couch whose magic is both created and ruined by overuse.
That’s why tonight’s little expedition was so exhilarating. The exercise, and the mild thrill of the dark corners of that one wooded dirt road in the back of a neighborhood that I used to live in, these provided the contrast to the fiery comfort of Scotch and high speed internet that I so desperately needed.
I really think there is a deeper phenomenon here than suburban malaise. I think that a lot of our modern psychological problems can be attributed to our ignoring the ancient need to range.
So, I’ve replenished my whiskey till next weekend rolls around. This time instead of the Founder’s Reserve I have the Glenlivet 12 which is aged in double oak barrels. The clerk that sold it to me also recommended an American single malt from Virginia but it was about 70 dollars for 750 mL if I recall correctly. Too much for my purse.
Also, I am a bit suspicious of any sort of American brewing or distilling. While there are lots of great American whiskeys and beers there’s a corner cutting in production that I’m not a fan of. Traditions like Reinheitsgebot help to curb US style capitalistic exuberance in Europe.
I’m not sure if the whiskey the clerk recommended is guilty of anything that I found in the article I’m about to read from but the general information does confirm the wisdom of my snobbery.
From whiskyadvocate.com:
“In Scotland, malt whisky is always made using 100% malted barley. In the U.S. many malt whiskeys (especially those labeled “single malt”) are made with 100% malted barley as well. But they don’t have to be: U.S. regulations stipulate that malt whiskey is only required to have a minimum of 51% malted barley in the mashbill.
Like bourbon and rye, the maximum proofs for distillation and barrel entry for American malt whiskey are 160 and 125, respectively. Additionally, it must be stored in new, charred oak barrels. Therefore, American malt whiskeys are closer kissing cousins to bourbon and American rye than they are to scotch single malts.”
I’ve only recently begun my whisky journey and will update everybody on my findings as I progress. Corrections and suggestions are encouraged.
Now back to waxing poetic about the merits of Carolina evenings. One thing that I found particularly catalytic for stirring vague sentiments of an eternal tapestry is being in places at the same time of day as I was when I had formative or otherwise grand experiences.
A relationship some half decade distant now had found me in an old style home with a lover, an old style home which was very reminiscent of the sort I dwelt in when I first came to the States, an old style home whose small but cozy glowing interior mixed so tidily with the night outside the kitchen door.
There were cigarettes and gin and the sense that I was stringing along some kind of coherency in these old dwellings. That dirty blond hair with just a hint of reddish hue was such a vibrant thing. So full of fresg life among this venerable bit of American.
She did say a lot of stupid shit though.
Let’s turn to less local affairs and read about a newly found exoplanet.
This article is from mysteriousuniverse.org, and is written by Jocelyn LeBlanc, let’s begin…
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Today’s daily variety includes the health benefits of whiskey, the first recorded use of the word ‘Fuck,’ and assorted rambles on everything from Trump’s books to Bigfoot.
First, the CDC said save masks for medical personel then on April 3rd Trump wanted us to gimp up Bane style.
There’s a lot to unpack here, and this video isn’t going to do that. This is just a breif ramble on some stuff I learned and the shittiness of this late stage policy and my flimsy ass surgical mask.
It’s goofy out there and I’m gardening partially because it rocks and partially because it’s the perfect activity for getting vitamin D, and taking the edge off, all while growing freakin food.
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In my area, we’re still allowed outside so I went for a bike ride. Need it to help me fall asleep since I gotta get up at 4 am. Some fatty suburbanite hausfrau slapped her wrist at me and a tub of lard soccer dad in a minivan blared his horn. Moments later I saw folk walking up the street and people round my neighborhood were walking dogs, strolling, and watching kids play basketball.
Why is it the fat and obnoxious who are suddenly health obsessed?
Fat office drone drains on the economy should not be allowed to vote or drive. Imagine how much gas would be saved if these self-righteous monstrosities didn’t way down their two ten SUVS with the weight of a walrus.
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Not Just Zazz…but Pizzazz
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