Why did it take 9 months I ask…what else takes 9 months? Could it be three quarters of a fiscal year? Those 2025 tax revenues aren’t going to look great 2026, so here’s a reminder to mark your calendar to check on those numbers when they come out. Something tells me they will be funky.

That’s good juxtaposition, that is.

So adorable.

The rest of that sentence might be: “If Dena aren’t running ads by Wednesday….” they are complicit in all of these GOP actions against our republic.

Where’s the, “You’re fired!” Guy when we really need him…oh, that’s right, he’s the pit of this rotten fruit.

Say what you want about the Pats, but they’re a good example of the importance of overtraining employees and redundant systems...unlike some ‘other’ companies I could name.

Sad day; Mr. Coffee at the office has died. No one else is as stressed about the departed as I am, but Mx Keurig here will comfort me for now, though, they’re showing their age as well. Stay strong, everyone.

Fund Healthcare for everyone. Stop unjustly detaining and imprisoning laborers! Release the Epstein Files.

Just ate a piece of meat with a deconstructed bbq sauce. You might think, “What’s the point?”, but on smoked pork belly, a dry rub, some honey, and a slice of lime I now have an argument in favor of it.

Just learned one of the “New Math” methods….oh my God. If you have read any Cold War history and politics, you will be familiar with horror, but the “new math” has given me a new perspective on despair.

When I woke up this morning I didn’t have the usual brain fog; it was more a brain padded-room. The tinnitus, soliloquy-salad, random song from my youth, and images of dinosaurs were still there, though.

No they didn’t. Talking points are not discussions on topics.

They appear to lacking volunteers.

Maturing is realizing if Jesus hung out with working class people (fishermen), he probably knows several dirty jokes.

Me: I have told you about Thor’s hammer, right?

Wife, exasperated: Which time?

Me: About how it’s a penis.

Wife: Yes.

How many times have I told my wife about Thor’s penis-hammer? How is she tired of it before I am? These questions only lead to more questions.

My wife, as she is pressing her cold feet as completely against my warm legs as possible (read: cuddling), “Will you get my [shirt] for me; you can’t leave, you are warm!” I’ll just send my bones for it, shall I? 😉

I miss the days where the only directions I had to follow were up down up down left right left right a b a b start; thinking on it now, tho, that’s probably why I feel a bit out of place—I was never holding my controller.

It’s 1am and my wife just stomped her foot and aggressively blew her nose at me sending me in to paroxysms of snort-laughter-screams. How does she fix this? Smothering me with a pillow. #imok #shesmyfave

Sounds nice!

Getting old is: postponing sex so you can sleep in clean sheets another night.

Rising playlist: “Zorba’s Dance”(two bars), an internal monologue about why we don’t need private health insurance, a pre-caffeine droning, tinnitus (mild), ttrpg rules competing with my wife’s breakfast discussion.

Breakfast was delicious.