The amazing thing is that someone is selling (and people are probably buying) a $300 countertop contraption for growing greens and it looks like it's made out of some PVC pipes and plastic troughs. I'm in the wrong line of work.
Ah yes, it’s been what, two years since we heard some news stories out of China about this virus thing that may cause a problem? Times flies fast when unvaccinated people are clogging the hospitals and I can’t get my rotator cuff surgery. Ever try to shovel snow when you can’t lift your arm up all the way? Damn me for procrastinating on the snow blower repair. At least I have an excuse not to go walking up my iced-up driveway.
While the red beans and rice simmer in the slow cooker, because what better way to fill one’s tummy than with a savory batch of red beans and rice, here I sit to compose. I should be browsing through the boxes of my record collection picking my new years’ set. But yeah, I’ll be celebrating an omicron new year this year. Speaking of which, isn’t that the planet that Khan in Star Trek was exiled to? What business does he have bringing a novel virus to our midst? Ooooh, bet that becomes conspiracy theory fodder for 2022.
Which can also be written as “2020-too”.
It’s Wednesday and I’m starting to get really bored with deciphering the social media ads that are generated for me. Heated sidewalk melters I can see, assuming the interwebs know all about my rotator cuff (hint: they probably do). Not that I’m going to dish out the $2000 I would need to cover my sidewalks and driveways. Certainly not when the product says it only lasts 3-4 years. Shoot, underwear lasts longer than that. At least the underwear that doesn’t come straight from Ali Baba does.
I’m not getting metal bird things with a large spike I can pound into a tree. Or the machine washable rugs; where I’m from we call such things “blankets”. Or a plug-in sized space heater that says it will head a room, even though it uses not even half the wattage a toaster uses. If it can’t crisp up my English muffins it ain’t keeping my ancient house warm.
Here’s the scoop. I would like quality conversation. You would like quality conversation. Doesn’t have to be about sex all the time, but my God, look at the URL of this website. And why else would an otherwise well-adjusted adult be posting here? Wait, you’re telling me well-adjusted adults don’t visit this site?
God dammit.
Time to copy and past from my post from long ago. You are smart. Emotionally you’re well put together. You’re open-minded in the truest sense of the word. Doesn’t matter if you are well-travelled or not. It would be nice if you read, I dunno, a good book now and then and maybe a magazine that isn’t found at supermarket checkouts. You can be from any part of the country too. Or maybe even overseas, but I warn you that I failed both Spanish and French in high school and college. And somehow still made the honor roll. Then again, Google Translate does spit out some interesting sentences.
What else. You can be married or not. I am, and frankly I love it. The chances we will ever meet are so close to zero that there is no concern that anyone’s domestic bliss will be threatened. It’s good if you have a minimum number of pets, specifically dogs/cats. Two is good; three is pushing it, anything more than that and you may be an animal hoarder. Or a farmer who needs work dogs or barn cats to control vermin. For that I guess I can grant a waiver. Even if you aren’t a farmer, you at least like the outdoors and understand that you don’t need an entire backpack full of food and a $300 walking stick to enjoy a nice hike.
Overall, you’re a respectable person, looked up to in the community except by that weird neighbor down the street who can’t figure out why you don’t at least wave every damn time they see you in the supermarket. The main thing is, like me, most people wouldn’t expect that you enjoy talking about adult subjects such as sex.
About me: average looking; safe to say it’s my brains that have gotten me to where I am today. Introverted. More of a homebody/hobbit than a globetrotter. Lover of great food, mid-century music, not mid-century furniture. I also love words; can you tell? My bookshelves are half-filled with books, a few of which I have yet to read, and half-filled with records, and all have been listened to at least once. Wait, that’s a lie. One shelf has a clock that needs winding. Thinks the typical American male dresses with way too many earth tones. A splash of color never hurt anyone. I have no real perversions: I’m not going to call you names, I’m not going to be your daddy (or son for that matter), I think pain during sex is flat-out odd (I don’t want to feel pain while getting a blow job, that’s for sure). I don’t have any fetishes. In fact, you can look through all the posts of very specific interests that people are looking to fill and I probably conform to none of them.
Oh well, this is going to fill my inbox to overflowing. I’ll have to log in once an hour just to delete things. Good thing I won't be busy outside shovelling snow.
Ah yes, it’s been what, two years since we heard some news stories out of China about this virus thing that may cause a problem? Times flies fast when unvaccinated people are clogging the hospitals and I can’t get my rotator cuff surgery. Ever try to shovel snow when you can’t lift your arm up all the way? Damn me for procrastinating on the snow blower repair. At least I have an excuse not to go walking up my iced-up driveway.
While the red beans and rice simmer in the slow cooker, because what better way to fill one’s tummy than with a savory batch of red beans and rice, here I sit to compose. I should be browsing through the boxes of my record collection picking my new years’ set. But yeah, I’ll be celebrating an omicron new year this year. Speaking of which, isn’t that the planet that Khan in Star Trek was exiled to? What business does he have bringing a novel virus to our midst? Ooooh, bet that becomes conspiracy theory fodder for 2022.
Which can also be written as “2020-too”.
It’s Wednesday and I’m starting to get really bored with deciphering the social media ads that are generated for me. Heated sidewalk melters I can see, assuming the interwebs know all about my rotator cuff (hint: they probably do). Not that I’m going to dish out the $2000 I would need to cover my sidewalks and driveways. Certainly not when the product says it only lasts 3-4 years. Shoot, underwear lasts longer than that. At least the underwear that doesn’t come straight from Ali Baba does.
I’m not getting metal bird things with a large spike I can pound into a tree. Or the machine washable rugs; where I’m from we call such things “blankets”. Or a plug-in sized space heater that says it will head a room, even though it uses not even half the wattage a toaster uses. If it can’t crisp up my English muffins it ain’t keeping my ancient house warm.
Here’s the scoop. I would like quality conversation. You would like quality conversation. Doesn’t have to be about sex all the time, but my God, look at the URL of this website. And why else would an otherwise well-adjusted adult be posting here? Wait, you’re telling me well-adjusted adults don’t visit this site?
God dammit.
Time to copy and past from my post from long ago. You are smart. Emotionally you’re well put together. You’re open-minded in the truest sense of the word. Doesn’t matter if you are well-travelled or not. It would be nice if you read, I dunno, a good book now and then and maybe a magazine that isn’t found at supermarket checkouts. You can be from any part of the country too. Or maybe even overseas, but I warn you that I failed both Spanish and French in high school and college. And somehow still made the honor roll. Then again, Google Translate does spit out some interesting sentences.
What else. You can be married or not. I am, and frankly I love it. The chances we will ever meet are so close to zero that there is no concern that anyone’s domestic bliss will be threatened. It’s good if you have a minimum number of pets, specifically dogs/cats. Two is good; three is pushing it, anything more than that and you may be an animal hoarder. Or a farmer who needs work dogs or barn cats to control vermin. For that I guess I can grant a waiver. Even if you aren’t a farmer, you at least like the outdoors and understand that you don’t need an entire backpack full of food and a $300 walking stick to enjoy a nice hike.
Overall, you’re a respectable person, looked up to in the community except by that weird neighbor down the street who can’t figure out why you don’t at least wave every damn time they see you in the supermarket. The main thing is, like me, most people wouldn’t expect that you enjoy talking about adult subjects such as sex.
About me: average looking; safe to say it’s my brains that have gotten me to where I am today. Introverted. More of a homebody/hobbit than a globetrotter. Lover of great food, mid-century music, not mid-century furniture. I also love words; can you tell? My bookshelves are half-filled with books, a few of which I have yet to read, and half-filled with records, and all have been listened to at least once. Wait, that’s a lie. One shelf has a clock that needs winding. Thinks the typical American male dresses with way too many earth tones. A splash of color never hurt anyone. I have no real perversions: I’m not going to call you names, I’m not going to be your daddy (or son for that matter), I think pain during sex is flat-out odd (I don’t want to feel pain while getting a blow job, that’s for sure). I don’t have any fetishes. In fact, you can look through all the posts of very specific interests that people are looking to fill and I probably conform to none of them.
Oh well, this is going to fill my inbox to overflowing. I’ll have to log in once an hour just to delete things. Good thing I won't be busy outside shovelling snow.
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