Month: July 2025

Thirstdaz Wandering Thoughts

It’s a silly one.

My wife doesn’t online bank. She doesn’t trust computer and web security. Mind you, she will shop online, no probs.

I am at my computer. To my left is a small bowl of pumpkin and sunflower seeds with almonds, cashews, and pistachio nuts. Unsalted and raw, these are my safe snack.

My wife said, “Can you login and check my credit card statement please? I want to make sure the vacation house payment was charged.”

We’d rented a place on the Oregon coast with two other couples. There was half up front with the rest paid thirty days later. It was decided my wife and I would front the costs and the others would reimburse us. I was the one who paid for it, because it was online, but I used the Visa account. Technically in both of our names as a joint account, we refer to this as ‘her’ account. The MasterCard is ‘my’ account. Yet, when it came time to set up the vacation home payments, I did it, using ‘her’ credit card. We did this by agreement because my card had several grand on it for my recent dental work — three implants, a biopsy, and a bone graft.

“Sure,” I said. “I’ll do it in a minute. Let me finish eating my nuts first.”

Laughter burst out of me and my wife. We’re so immature.

Told you it was silly.

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A Poem For The Regime

Paul Vinent Cannon wrote a short poem, “Choices”. I find it perfect for these times and the TACO Regime. I attempted to reblog it but WordPress’s magic fizzled. So I have a link but also lifted the poem and posted it here.

An American Cinquain (2-4-6-8-2)

Choices

Silence
sometimes bidden
sometimes so moralised
well sometimes I just cannot be
silent.
Copyright 2025 ©️Paul Vincent Cannon
All Rights Reserved ®️

Hope you’ll visit his blog and enjoy more of his poems and observations. Cheers

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Thirstdaz Theme Music

Thirstda, July’s last day of 2025, greets us with clouds and sunshine. I’m off to a late blogging and writing start, delayed by a felt need to cut grass and weed before the sun and heat was too overpowering. Now it’s one PM, 84 F, with a ‘feels-like’ of 92, on the way to an 87F high. Light scattered rain is expected. I smelled petichor last night and went out looking for rain. While I heard what sounded like hungry stomachs rumbling among the dark clouds, rain successfully evaded me.

I’m already in the coffee shop. I noticed a sheet of paper on the counter. Handwritten, it was the inventory. That had me redoubling with chuckling. The writing, in black marker, was a combination of cursive and printing, which is my own style. Has been for years. It’s funny to me that this tech-driven computer age still features handwritten processes.

I like what a friend posted on FB yesterday:

Take your pick of weird Mother Earth events today in Oregon. Tsunami, red flag warning, lightning, thunderstorms, wind, fire, smoke. Hopefully it’s all pretty minor. Stay safe!

Jill Dennison featured a Foreigner tune on her blog. It’s the powerful rock ballad, “I Want To Know What Love Is”. The song moves many to tears and it’s not uncommon to witness folks singing along with it. I commented on the song selection, I mentioned that I enjoy Foreigner as a solid rock band. She asked me to suggest other Foreigner songs. I offered her “Dirty White Boy” and “Juke Box Hero”.

But was yesterday. Thinking themselves amusing, The Neurons slotted “That Was Yesterday” by Foreigner in my morning mental music stream. The 1985 song has a catchy chorus and is easy to mumble along to.

Working hard to undermine democracy and establish an authoritarian plutocracy, Texas is redrawing maps to exclude Democrats and their elected reps. Offering bankrupt ideas and languishing morals for most of this century, the bend to cheat results and steal power. My disgust is off the chart. We’ll see if Democrats and voters can turn back this effort. Fingers are crossed but between the heavy-handed Texas GOP and the swollen to the right SCOTUS, my hope is spider-web thin.

Peace and grace to you today. Hope both find you. On to other things. Cheers

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Traditions?

Daily writing prompt
What traditions have you not kept that your parents had?
View all responses

When I saw the prompt, I laughed and wondered, what traditions? Then I thought about it more seriously.

Dad doesn’t have traditions. He and Mom divorced in the early sixties. I moved in with him when I was fifteen. Well, he did have two traditions in those years: partying and working. Still on active duty in the U.S. Air Force when I moved in, he also had a parttime job, running a base all-ranks club. I have never seen Dad cook. Nor have I seen him clean house. Both of those duties fell to me when I moved in. I confess: I went back home to Mom’s house for Thanksgiving and Christmas for the next few years. Then I graduated high school, joined the military, and was off in my own life.

Back at Mom’s house, traditions gravitated around Christmas, Easter, and Thanksgiving. I guess there was also traditions for Memorial Day and the 4th of July: we always grilled out. Mom’s Christmas traditions were digging out decorations, putting up a tree, and that sort of thing. Easter meant baskets for the children and baked home for dinner. Thanksgiving was a lavish meal, turkey with stuffing, a bunch of fixings, and apple and pumpkin pie with whipped cream for dessert.

Well, it’s just my wife and me. Married for fifty years, we never had children. We did make Easter baskets for each other for a while, but neither of us claim a religion or a belief in God. I was also a shift worker for the first dozen years of my military career and often worked on Thanksgiving, Christmas, Easter, etc. And my wife became a vegan over thirty-five years ago.

The bottom line is, my Dad had no traditions, and Mom’s were limited. Now we have a tradition of going to a friend’s house to celebrate spring. We all bring a dish, hunt for easter eggs, and play cornhole. Once a year during the summer, we go to a local lake and dance to a local band with friends. There were fifteen of us this year. For the 4th of July, we always go to Pam’s house for a potluck branch and to watch the parade. A friend opens their farmhouse for all of us on Thanksgiving, another potluck affair, but they always provide a turkey.

I guess we have a new tradition of finding friends and celebating with them.

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A History of Fake History

Take the Time …

Trump has been spreading bullshit. Again.

Nan has connected to an accounting of some more Trump lies, aka Trumprications, or to use the two words separately, Trump fabrications.

But don’t read this CNN account of Trumprications if you’re already sickened and disgusted by his recurring disregard for the truth. The Daniel Dale analysis is just about guaranteed to nauseate you more. As Dale notes, “And the pattern has a purpose. Trump’s stories serve to exaggerate his foresight about and knowledge of domestic and foreign affairs, embellish his biography and record in office, and diminish his political opponents.“

More than that, the lies serve to impress and inspire the gullible and misinformed who put him in office.

That should tell you a lot about them.

1

Wenzdaz Wandering Political Thoughts

It’s just another WTF morning. Emil Bove was confirmed by the Senate to be a .

You might have more than one Emil Bove in your contact list. This Emil Bove was Trump’s personal lawyer. I know, that starts a gag reflex, doesn’t it? A whistleblower came forward before and reported that this honorable individual, sworn to uphold the law, told people to blow off the courts.

Bove reportedly “stressed to all in attendance that planes needed to take off no matter what,” though he also noted “the possibility that a court order would enjoin those removals before they could be effectuated.”

The suggested response? “Bove stated that DOJ would need to consider telling the courts ‘fuck you’ and ignore any such court order,” per Reuveni’s report.

His response to questions about this was that he didn’t recall. Well, of course this ‘honorable man’ didn’t recall saying such things. Despite that, other whistleblowers emerge to reveal this individual’s corrupted character. Republicans, as they’re prone to do in this era, ignored facts and truths and hurried on to curry favor with TACO. So now, Emil Bove has a lifetime appointment as a judge in that same legal system which he told other lawyers to ignore.

But what did you expect at this point for the United States Senate? Voters, led by Republicans, elected an embecile for POTUS. Not just an embecile, but a felon, convicted in court. A sludge of being who’s been accused of being a rapist multiple times.

  • A person desperately trying to squirm away from being connected to Jeffrey Epstein and his crimes despite aircraft flight logs, anecdotes, news articles, and photographs.
  • A decadent and disgusting individual recorded as saying derogatory things about women, such as “Grab them by the pussy.”
  • An individual, who, when accused of rape, didn’t deny it but instead said, “She’s not my type.”
  • An idiot of a human being who drew a map to overrule what experts said about a hurricane’s landfall, a brainless meatbag who claimed, “I would never golf,” because he would be too busy and has since mostly golfed.
  • A liar, documented and caught in lies well over 30,000 times and counting. One factcheckers catch telling a lie in almost every speech and statement he makes.

With that piece of puke as their leader, were there real expectations that Republicans would find a backbone and vote down his personally endorsed nominee?

Come on, man.

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Floofgonist

Floofgonist (floofinition) – An animal involved in a struggle. Origins: 1658, France & Floofland.

In Use: “As soon as Quinn spotted a spider, he became a floofgonist in a battle to vanquish the eight-legged foe, even though said foe scared the hell out of him, causing Quinn to spring backward when the spider moved his way.”

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