Under “use it or lose it,” because we have not been using a particular CC, the company lowered our credit limit. *yawn* Let’s see if we can do that with our other CCs, too.
Still “Diamond Preferred,” though (whatever that means).
That Thing. . .
Title of a chapter in a kind of “cars for dummies” (NOT a part of the “Dummies” books, just a book of that sort—name forever withheld to protect the guilty) that had me put the book down. “The Thing That Makes the Car Work.” Nah, there IS no “thing” that makes a car work. It is a complex machine that requires MANY things.
*meh* Not a harmful book, just a book for REAL dummies.
Gavin Newscum as. . .
. . .Turdfinger, the man who flushed California down the toilet.
[cue campaign theme music]
“Turdfinger (Turdfinger) the man with the fecal touch. . . “
[Censored pre-publication.]
“That’s too weird” — My Wonder Woman.
Dealing With SuckyInternet(and TV)® Provider
Called to remove one of two cable services subscribed to.
CS: I need to verify your account. (This after referring to me by name.)
C: Why? You already identified my account [by name] from caller ID; you know I called from a number that is registered to the account. What else do you need?
CS: I can verify the account with the serial number of one of your devices.
C: ?!? Specify “device.” Which of the fifteen connected devices are you referring to?
CS: [Mentions the ONLY device my network allows them to see]
Downhill from there. But at least it finally got done. Probably. Maybe,
Until just last month, the only other –semi-legit– Internet service has been our local baling wire and chewing gum telco’s “DSL.” Yeh, I watched ’em try to hook up their “fiber” line to our POTS service a few years ago. No. Completely outside standards. Crappy phone service anyway. Dropped their POTS.
Looks like I need to take down a couple of trees [junk elms I do not want, anyway) to effect best placement for a Starlink setup. Then I can cancel EVERYTHING with SuckyInternetCompany®.
Government Regulation
Government regulation may reduce some risks, but it always makes innovation more difficult, at the very least.
Orville Wright did not have a pilot’s license.
Appropriate Attire ;-)
So. . . my “summer weight” Propper™ pants aren’t really. Summer weight, that is, at least when the humidity is as high as it is. Trading out for a cheaper pair of pants that are cheaper primarily because the fabric is so thin. Yeh, not great work pants (and four pockets short of the 12 pockets in the Propper™ pants), but the light weight and breathability make ’em more comfortable to wear for yard work. ¯\_(“/)_/¯ Tradeoffs. Oh, well. (And blue jeans? REAL “sweltering sweat catchers.” Just no. *heh*)
Updated Nursery Rhyme
Itsy Bitsy Spider
Itsy-bitsy spider crawled up the coffee cup;
Take a sip o’ coffee, slurp the spider up.
Gag and spew the coffee into the spinning fan
And itsy-bitsy spider crawled up the cup again.
(Based on real life fantasy. #heh)
Throwing Knives as Defensive Weapons? Not So Much
Throwing knives is fun, and throwing knives ARE fun. (So is English. *heh*) First one must concentrate on technique. Spin or no spin? (I prefer thee latter.) Then accuracy. Throwing knives as defensive tools? *meh* Not so much. Accuracy at inflicting disabling (or fatal) wounds is MUCH more difficult than with a firearm, and if a knife wound from a thrown knife is NOT disabling, then one has just handed an attacker a weapon. Not good.
Still throwing knives is as much fun as any target-plinking can be.
Crossing the “Ts” and. . . Crossing the Bar
Anyone who’s thinking of recording an address for their own funeral/memorial service–will reading, just think of it as your valedictory address celebrating your graduation to the Great Beyond. Ya might concentrate on inspiring people with all the lessons you learned from your. . . failures. (Life lessons usually seem to come from those more than from successes, even if the successes grow from the failures.)
I may resurrect an old (yeh, really old, as compared to my lifespan—currently sitting at 2/3 of my lifespan in the past) composition setting Tennyson’s “Crossing the Bar” to music and suggest that as a closer instead of “Just Plant a Watermelon on My Grave,” since the image of a watermelon plant growing on top of a Folger’s can (at this time, the designated receptacle for my cremains) seems a bit weird. . . ¯\_(“/)_/
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