PayPal is no friend of mine. I’ve been banned. I “knew too much.”
Covid-19 Quarantine has sent many of us scurrying back to our bicycles.
Some for the first time since childhood. I see them on the bike paths, wearing a T-shirt and jeans shorts with no pads, gears squeaking from the spider webs they didn’t bother to wipe, and weaving all over the road like drunks.
Old people often look back on their youth as a simpler time. That’s bullshit. Life was complicated as soon as we dropped out of the trees and walked across the savannah on our hind legs.
Some men show love and affection through jewelry and flowers. Some men buy houses and cars.
I showed my love through eating.
Put tires on my road bike that are 3 millimeters wider (25 to 28 mm), so I could ride on a little dirt. What did I get? A berating from two “expert” trail users.
I sometimes worry about my mental health. I’m lying in bed and I get these manic ideas of social research about spatial awareness or even how to save the world. You know bullshit theories.
This is a good one.
This “re-opening” shit is giving me Deja-Vu.
It’s either a glitch in the Matrix, or I’ve been watching too many fucking documentaries, and I spent too much time with my grandfather.
Other kids wanted to grow up to be astronauts, firefighters or doctors. I dreamed I was born the second son of a Landed Lord or a Robber Baron and blew the family fortune on booze and broads and bad ideas…
It took me 10 minutes to decide the •% symbols were the best to replace “uc” in fucking.
I had never used symbols to cover up letters in a dirty word before. If I’m going to use a dirty word, I want the full effect.
Email: Subject Line: [My favorite password]
Holy fucking shit, I’ve been hacked.
Ignorance can be bliss.
I wish I had never learned the “breed” name for my little pandemic puppy.
My father’s Senior Living Community in Arizona is sealed like a zip-lock doggie bag.
No family in or out. The “inmates” can walk the courtyard but not outside the building.
I don’t want to admit how many tens-of-thousands of dollars I have spent on road bikes in the past decade. But in this pandemic, worth every fucking penny.
I’ve had dogs that liked me, but they always “loved” other people. This past few weeks I found a dog that actually loves me. If I’m lucky, for the next 15 years, I won’t be able to take a shit by myself.
It took almost 20 years, but I have a new favorite joke.
My old favorite still makes me laugh, but not nearly as hard as it used to (be — a common condition at my age).