Paying Attention To Detail

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I’m not here to bog you down with yet another detailed rundown of the ecological, ideological and virological crises that stubbornly continue to confront contemporary society. Suffice to say, the feverish, triple comorbidities of man-made climate change, invading incendiary Vlad, and the still “hot on the trail” coronavirus / variants amply speak for themselves.

Rather than rehashing any of THAT I’ve opted to discuss one particular, deleterious side effect, which this triple whammy has been having on me; perhaps you too?

I’m referring to how unproductively worrying about all that crap can easily plunge our biorhythms into a state of utter chaos; in particular, the sleep cycle; thereby plunging us into a rundown condition.

More to the point… we all must be on the lookout for the telltale symptoms; in particular…

Not Paying Attention To Detail

That I have such a prob does go way beyond my yawning a lot. That became all the more evident upon reviewing my April, WP posted content. To my astonishment (and mild embarrassment) I discovered word usage anomalies, sloppy syntax, spelling errors, typos etc.

To e.g. just one of my blunders… the usage of “chose” when I had intended “choose”.

Granted, within the blogging world, this tends to sound trifling, however, what happens when sleep deprivation fogs over the real world?

To e.g. that… consider the quality (or lack thereof) of tasks being carried out by the surgeon, commercial airline pilot and air traffic controller; hell, even the rush hour motorist? What of the nuclear power plant technician? The general keeping a watchful (bleary?) eye on the radar screens ISO (Vlad’s) nuclear missile launches?

Best advice, as each day draws to an end, we must all…

  • shut up all who air and stream bad news
  • shut down our device’s bright screens
  • shut our eyelids
  • shut off our minds and bodies
  • secure 8hrs of shut-eye (same time each day*)

* preferably night

Who knows? During our REM phase, we might even wind up dreaming up ways to shut down that ecological, ideological and virological mess we’re in.

At the very least… the odds of our working toward society’s betterment can only get better when we’re fully rested and…

Paying Better Attention To Detail!

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Stay Publicly / Properly Masked!
Stay Safe at Home!
Stay Healthy!

-30-

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Oh Shiitake!

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Propagandist’s profession; spew fake news; mind pollute
Owned by Big Biz / Big Gov pimps; he’s their prostitute
Akin to an anthropomorphous, vending machine
Dispensing shoddy commodities; wholly obscene
With plinked coin / pushed button, the truth he shall trample
Disinformation, diseased, disseminates; for example:

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Climate change twisters spin out, as balmy spring breezes
Covid-19 downplayed, to mere sniffles and sneezes
Trump’s Jan 6th insurrection, just pranksters, uh, playing
Kneeling playmates / porn stars; in cathedral pews praying
Question Stormy’s “short” story, for X-prez sports yuge penis
Vlad’s threat to “serve” mushrooms, just Shiitake genus

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Stay Publicly / Properly Masked!
Stay Safe at Home!
Stay Healthy!

-30-

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Eggs-istential Enigma (Part 1)

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This past Wednesday, I Ventured forth into the looming, zombie apocalypse for a much oVerdue grocery shopping “adVenture”. Like my waistline, my larder was thinning out, alarmingly so, and that’s ill-adVised, especially against the preVailing backdrop of massiVe ciVil unrest and societal upheaVal.

To keep it all real, who the hell eVen knows where one’s next meal might be coming from; e.g., [1] with Vicious, Venomous, Vacuous Vlad Violating Ukraine AND on the Verge of Vaporizing the entire planet Via the launch of his nukes, [2] Vexing Corona-V Variants Vehemently challenging the Vaccines and [3] aVaricious, maleVolent human/Viper hybird corporate VIPs deVastating the global supply chain (for fun and profit).

Hmm, waddaya think of my aboVe paragraphs’ “V” alliteration?

Anyway… all wordplay aside…

My primary shopping options were to EITHER frequent an in-town supermarket where the shameless CEO’s ongoing business model has been price gouging; predating, by multiple decades, our current sorry state of inflation OR head for an out of town, more reasonably priced store.

FYI, I’ve been limiting my trips to the latter to avoid the 89kph / 55mph highways; the far lower local speed limits saving wear and tear on my 23-year-old vehicle.

As expected, I wound up finding thinned / emptied shelves, storewide. Even so, I did manage to load up the grocery cart, so much so, that the checkout lane cashier’s total came to $282.

Well, something just wasn’t adding up. You see, with pen in hand, I’d been keeping a running tally while shopping, ergo, I suspected this amount to be an overcharge; in the neighborhood of $15.

However, factoring in how I hadn’t had enough sleep the previous night, this gave me reasonable doubt that I’d done all my math correctly. Additionally, seeing how too damned many customers / Karens have been needlessly stressing out our frontline retail workers, I opted to give her the benefit of the doubt; i.e., defer registering any on-the-spot gripe.

Ergo, once back within the confines of my own home, I unpacked the shopping bags and carefully organized my haul atop the dining room table, kitchen countertops and (re the perishables) within the refrigerator.

With the register receipt as my guide, my audit began. With pencil in hand, I began checking off all that appeared to be OK.

Conclusion: while my math had been spot on, what I hadn’t taken into account was getting charged for 98 items when, IN REALITY, I had only placed 93 on the conveyor.

BOTTOM LINE: The cashier had charged me for 5 cartons of eggs.

The Eggs-istential Enigma, here, is that I had not purchased even 1 carton; which begs the key question:

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How the hell did, not 1, but 5 NON-EXISTENT egg cartons’ bar codes get scanned?

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My being a 30-year retail veteran (now retired) sales clerk, cashier and manager, I’ve heard and seen just about everything, ergo, I do have several working theories (not all of them involving innocent, human error if you catch my drift).

However, prior to my going into any details (to be revealed within my planned Part 2 to this post), I’d like to, first, run this by you, my readers; discover what you may be reading into this Eggs-istential Enigma.

I mean, this all sounds so bizarre that when I report this incident… and I do intend to report this… to that store’s complaint department manager…

Will (s)he even believe me?

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Stay Publicly / Properly Masked!
Stay Safe at Home!
Stay Healthy!

-30-

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With Friends Like That… Yadda… Yadda… Yadda…

 

Occam tells us that the easiest explanation is generally correct. IF… and that is a BIG IFIF so… THEN Donald Trump has proven his Singapore Summit, wheeling and dealing to be wildly successful. IF his inked agreement with Kim Jong Un actually turns out to be legit and far more than mere photo-op / fake news, THEN they’ve both eased the threat of nuclear annihilation and our thanks are in order.

YET… long sigh… who, of good conscience, could ever forget Trump’s hero worship of all things autocratic and his abysmal lack of ethics, empathy and relevant education. Such chronic character flaws mean that virtually everything he’s ever said and done instantly inspires both justifiable outrage and skepticism. Let’s flesh that out…

How is it even possible for two, hotheaded heads of state to suddenly… to miraculously… kiss and make up? Lest anyone forget, it was scant weeks ago when these very actors had stumbled onto the world stage to hose it down with testosterone… childishly compare the size of their “nuclear buttons” (vis-à-vis their manhood)… unconscionably and ignorantly threaten an-everybody-loses nuclear war, which could’ve downgraded humankind to irradiated cremains buried beneath mega-tonnage of radioactive rubble AND re-purposed our home world to that of an unmarked global graveyard and gigantic chunk of worthless, galactic real estate.

Were we to categorize all of that pre-summit era posturing as playacting, then both bad actors had turned in 5-star, Academy Award winning performances. BUT… lest that ever go to their heads… they had better not expect any thinking people to ever give them a standing O accompanied by boisterous yells of “Encore! Encore! Encore!”

Folks, it’s tough not to suspect yesterday’s summit-goers of collusion, too. After all, they are… politically speaking… strange bedfellows. Kim Jong Un revels in his role as the political strongman / international bogeyman. And there’s nothing fear monger Donald Trump loves more than trotting out such a exploitable, willful opponent / commodity. Furthermore, what better way to make yesterday’s negotiations appear more dramatic… more arduous than… in all likelihood…they had actually been?

Perhaps worse yet was… to borrow DJT’s own catchphrase… the ubiquitous fake news… most of it “courtesy” of the right wing dominated, MSM sycophantic propagandists. Always on hand to do the “prez’s” bidding, these storytellers did gin up that pre-Singaporean drama… you know… all of that “Is the summit off or on?” crapola / hoopla. It’s fair to point out that since the fake news occurred prior to the summit… it likely continued yesterday… and will continue to do so, unabated… in all our tomorrows to follow.

SIDEBAR: I don’t know about you, folks, but as I type out this blog, it feels as if I’m peeling away the layers of an onion. All that’s missing is the tear inducing chemical syn-propanethial-S-oxide. Of course… that’s not to say my pondering over today’s sorry state of politics won’t induce tearing later… i.e., once I post this blog. END SIDEBAR

Tearing away the next layer… let’s explore how DJT hasn’t really had anything meaningful to show for his first 500+ days in office. As such, he’s been desperate to secure something… anything… even remotely resembling a victory… even a diplomatic coup which, btw, conflicts with his chickenhawk nature. So, would any of us be shocked by the possibility that he may’ve even secretly granted KJU some extraordinarily unpalatable, inconsistent to core American values concessions… that he might’ve even sweetened the pot… by offering oodles of dirty cash-o-la and/or a “date” with a porn star? Or two? Or more? After all, what corrupt, billionaire businessman would not have easy access to both?

So… did hobnobbing with DJT bolster KJU’s status? Did the Korean dictator successfully manipulate his manipulator? Did these two autocrats truly become friends?

Returning to Occam… the easiest explanation is usually correct. In other words… whomever dares to deal with Donald J. Trump will drown in his swamp / suffocate in his stench, rarely win AND won’t have a snowballs chance in hell of ever being his best buddy.

If Kim Jong Un harbors any doubts, all he need do is ask for character references from any of America’s now ex-allies… the half dozen world leaders, who Trump had totally alienated and abandoned during 2018’s Canadian G-7 summit.

 

 

Threats to Nuke Guam OFF the Map Puts it ON the Map?

 

Check out this phone chat between the un-american, so-called prez (#45) and his spooky kindred spirit, Guam Governor Eddie Calvo.

Admittedly, the schoolboy giggle-fest vid… below… even clocking out at a paltry 3:18… is still a YUGE [sic] waste of time. Moreover, who’d even want to watch as both of these jerks verbally “jerk off” each other? But not to worry, you can still scroll down to quickly read a summarizing transcript…

“Eddie, I have to tell you, you’ve become extremely famous. All over the world, they’re talking about Guam, and they’re talking about you, and I think you’re going to get tourism. I can say this, your tourism, you’re going to go up like tenfold with the expenditure of no money, so I congratulate you.”

My reaction…

OMG!!!! Does #45 actually envision everyone eagerly packing their bags and booking flights / Carnival Cruises™? Everyone dying to become sitting ducks, dead center, at a potential nuclear ground zero?

And were North Korea’s Kim Jong-Un to ever launch an attack, does Amerika’s so-called prez fantasize about tourists mindlessly snapping smiley-faced selfies with billowing mushroom clouds as their backdrop? Everyone partying till they puke? Well… if binge boozing wouldn’t be enough to induce “survivors'” vomiting, the radiation sickness certainly would.

True, I cannot speak for everyone, but, with a thermonuclear exchange just one Twitter stormer’s antagonizing Tweet away… so long as we have two enraged, flabby, flaccid hotheaded world “leaders” with their grubby little hands poised over “The Button”… I certainly would NOT be putting Guam at the top of my list of trendy, all the rage hotspots to be visiting.

And, were I someone who called Guam “home sweet home”, any travel plans I’d be making, MOST ASSUREDLY, would be to join the let’s-get-the-F-out-of-here, we-all-had-better-run-for-our lives exodus.

Not since post 9/11 George W. Bush had recommended Americans “Get down to Disney World in Florida. Take your families and enjoy life, the way we want it to be enjoyed” have I ever heard such a greed driven, out of touch with reality, insensitive and blasé attitude.

Of course, the present-day, so-called prez’s state of mindlessness is far worse because the more tourists he encourages to visit Guam, the higher a nuclear war’s death toll would be.

One has to wonder… while the tensions between North Korea and Amerika remain unresolved… will #45 be stupid enough to accept Calvo’s invitation to visit Guam?

 

Grate… Not Great (One Quick Limerick #019)

 

 

Grump bullies non-WASPs / non-straights, spews his hate,

Deems rule of law / liberty second-rate,

In big biz world, he’s a glutton,

He’ll melt down, push “The Button”,

That irritant makes america grate.

 

 

You can access more original limericks, poetry and lyrical parodies by clicking onto my poetry category.

 

 

Fire & Fury (One Quick Limerick #018)

 

The man-child’s foreign relations routine,

Vows fire/fury world has never seen,

Sane folks can’t sleep at night,

With Earth’s end now in sight,

Guess it’s in Heaven where we’ll reconvene?

 

 

More original limericks, poetry and lyrics can be accessed by clicking onto my poetry category.

 

 

Rattle + Prattle = Battle (One Quick Limerick #017)

 

The fools’ nuclear sabers both rattle,

And they spew forth too much mucked up prattle,

With diarrhea of mouth,

Hopes for truce talks could go south,

They’d end up with a mushrooming battle!

 

More original limericks, poetry and lyrics can be accessed by clicking onto my poetry category.

 

 

Old Cracked-Donald… E-I-E-I-Ewww! (Poem #1)

 

Old Cracked-Donald spews out hate, E-I-E-I-Ewww!

And on the stump, he’ll agitate, E-I-E-I-Ewww!

He hates hates Muslims, no big news,

Hates Hispanics, hates Ted Cruz-Cruz!

Old Cracked-Donald is irate, E-I-E-I-Ewww!

 

Old Cracked-Donald off the cuff, E-I-E-I-Ewww!

His anti-Muslim bluster’s rough, E-I-E-I-Ewww!

He goes ballistic and grows wild,

To ISIS is wild poster child-child!

Old Cracked-Donald, nuff’s enuff! E-I-E-I-Ewww!

 

Old Cracked-Donald plans a wall, E-I-E-I-Ewww!

‘Tween Mexico and U.S.… TALL! E-I-E-I-Ewww!

There’d be one upside, to put forth,

Wall could keep old Don north-North-NORTH!

Old Cracked-Donald plans a wall, E-I-E-I-Ewww!

 

Old Cracked-Donald dotes Dave Duke, E-I-E-I-Ewww!

They’re two sick Klansmen to rebuke, E-I-E-I-Ewww!

Duke lynches victims, hangs from gallows,

Burns cross crosses, roasts marshmallows!

Old Cracked-Donald makes us puke, E-I-E-I-Ewww!

 

Old Cracked-Donald tries to schmooze, E-I-E-I-Ewww!

Asks, “What do you have to lose?” E-I-E-I-Ewww!

This albatross and preying vulture,

Paints bleak portrait of black culture!

Old Cracked-Donald tries to schmooze, E-I-E-I-Ewww!

 

 

Old Cracked-Donald feeds throng’s rage, E-I-E-I-Ewww!

His rowdy crowd’s, in need of cage, E-I-E-I-Ewww!

He’s circus master, of three ringer,

Runs his rallies, like Jer Springer!

Old Cracked-Donald feeds throng’s rage, E-I-E-I-Ewww!

 

Old Cracked-Donald he’s profane, E-I-E-I-Ewww!

His vulgar speeches are a bane, E-I-E-I-Ewww!

Drops “F-bombs” here! “Mofo’s” there!

“Damns” “Hells”, “Sh-ts” he’ll cuss and swear-swear!

Old Cracked-Donald he’s profane, E-I-E-I-Ewww!

 

Old Cracked-Donald sexist pig, E-I-E-I-Ewww!

Misogynist who exists big, E-I-E-I-Ewww!

Cad Roger Ailes is Don’s best bud,

Oink oink porkers bathed in mud-mud!

Old Cracked-Donald sexist pig, E-I-E-I-Ewww!

 

Old Cracked-Donald full of bunk, E-I-E-I-Ewww!

Right in public, touts his junk, E-I-E-I-Ewww!

Hints he’s YUGE, hung like a steed,

That’s more skinny than we need-need!

Old Cracked-Donald full of bunk, E-I-E-I-Ewww!

 

Old Cracked-Donald, he’s hothead, E-I-E-I-Ewww!

Vote him in? We’ll wind up dead! E-I-E-I-Ewww!

He’d push the button with small hands,

Exchange the nukes with foreign lands-lands!

Old Cracked-Donald, we must dread, E-I-E-I-Ewww!