I can't recall where I saw this earlier this week, but it accompanied an article talking about the disconnect between men and women in relationships. Perhaps it was always thus, but it seems to me that we are living in coarser times - civility and dignity, never mind tenderness and love, have taken their leave from relationship behavior.
I apologize that the image is not so sharp as I would like.
Will the human race endure? I'm sure it will. Tommy Boy recently posted on the treachery extant in modern love. But isn't there at least something worthwhile and noble in trying a little kindness?
A few oddities from the crevices of my mind and the bathroom countertop:
People who make aerosol/pump spray fragrance buttons should use contrasting polymers for the button and for the nozzle. It would make it much easier for those of us over 40 (ahem!) to see which direction the darn thing is aimed.
Does anyone know why shaving cream is super fluffy at the beginning of a can, and very watery near the end?
I am almost certain that no person on earth gets their money's worth from a tube of toothpaste more than I do. No, I don't slice the tube open when it's done, but I'm pretty confident that a steamroller (gratuitous JT reference) could not dislodge another 1/8 cm³ from it.
A couple of weekends back, I took the train to the city where the East peters out, to see some fun stuff at their convention center. Despite much consternation from the nattering nabob nitwit brigades, I did not encounter any untoward sentiment personally, and was able to enjoy a fine time both days that I attended. Of course, it should go without saying, I was smart enough to not go on the day that multiple politicos were there for photo ops.
While I was there, I saw or met noted writers, Col. Craig Boddington and Phil Spangenberger.
While it can be argued that MSRs - and accessorizing accoutrements - were more than adequately represented at the event, there was still quite a lot for traditionalists such as myself to enjoy.
I thought I would run a few errands this afternoon, then mow the grass before darkfall. The rain dashed my plans.
Picked up some interesting CDs at the resale for cheap: Emmylou Harris' Duets, a two disc 60's folk music sampler (it has 30 songs - The Kingston Trio and The Brothers Four each got two songs), Whiskey Folk Ramblers - a local alt-country band, Undertakin' Daddies - from Canada, and one of those background sound discs of loons (yeah, like from On Golden Pond).
A few weeks ago, I cleared my schedule for tomorrow. Now, I have no recollection why.
This might be Matthew Perry, though...
The above was seen at The Old Home Supply. They had three busts of Elvis. Inasmuch as they have buiidings on all four corners of the intersection, and each bust was in a separate building, no normal person would have noticed. Ah, but I'm very observant...and not your average bear.
Henley does this Billy Sherrill song on his Cass County CD. Tonight, I learned that Emmylou had recorded it on her first album:
Last week/end I spent three nights sleeping outdoors: Saturday, Sunday, and Monday. It was kinda warm the first night, chilly the second (and Sienna was restless). I sleep comfortably under the stars, but Monday night the wind blew a bunch of tree fuzzies onto my sleeping bag and pillow. 😒
The moon rises also...
Daughter and I had dinner at the church Wednesday night. Breakfast for dinner. I was served by a twentysomething chick who gave me two pieces of bacon. Teen daughter was served by a teen dude...who gave her six pieces. What the heck? Luckily, she shared with me. I probably only eat bacon 2-3 times a year. It was delicious.
I wonder if I can set up a GoFundMe account for one of these:
I like the dark finish, but the 6-7/8" fluted bbl in stainless is probably better.
For Easter, I gave daughter a yuge stuffed Easter Bunny, with a gimme knapsack with scented soap and some perfume she wanted. The bunny, with its ears extended, is taller than me. Wednesday night, she told me she'd named it...Harvey.
Well played. I showed her this portrait of the pookah and me: