Month: August 2025

Wenzdaz Theme Music

Very cool morning and not hurrying to warm up. This is a cloud’s influence, a cloud offering gray dimples and wavy white lines but otherwise lords the sky from east to west and the other way too. We’re offering 67 F with an 87 F high in the works. Although you can’t tell from this weather, it’s summer, August 6, 2025. More like sumfall. It is also Wenzda. Hump day. Mid week.

Trump is still being chased by the Epstein Files. That’s no good for other countries. Tariff Man has donned his towel and tied it around his neck so he can pretend it’s a cape. Now he’s zapping other countries with tariffs. Zap, 50% on India. Kapowie, 39% on Switzerland. Boom, 250% on pharmas. Maybe. Depends on how well it deflects attention from Epstein. Right now, tariffs are sucking oxygen.

Epstein is still out there, though. “Will no one rid me of this plague?” Trump cries out in his thin, reedy voice.

“Sorry, my lord,” he’s already dead,” Bondi replies. “We would if we could, believe me.”

Scowling, Trump sucks on a can of Mexican Coke. A smirking glare wins his expression. “Increase Canada’s tariffs. That’ll teach them.”

In case you forgot, here’s a picture of BFFs, Epstein and Trump.

This is one of my favorite Kinks songs. Admittedly, I have several. I enjoy this one’s opening lyrics. “Hello, you. Hello, me. Hello people we used to be. Isn’t it strange, we never change. We’ve been through it all yet we’re still the same.” I’m not sure what personal reflections I was working on at the time. summI was in the kitchen, doing the standard AM kitchen tasks. The Neurons picked up on my thoughts and into the morning mental music stream came Ray and Dave and the band with “A Rock ‘n’ Roll Fanasy” out of 1978.

A drip of coffee has turned into a sip which became a gulp. Time to jump out there. Hope peace and grace visits you and stays a while. Cheers

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Twosdaz Wandering Thoughts

I should probably buy a new computer. Microsoft has warned me that it won’t be supporting this one much longer. That is a concern. Chrome never makes such dire threats. I don’t know if I can use another OS and other browsers. Probably can but it would be more of an investment in time than I want to do.

The computer is over a decade old. It can’t run Windows 11 without more changes. More importantly, the computer has developed some issues. Its chassis is slightly bent. That causes some control issues. Several keys have been replaced but it hasn’t been a successful fix. The HP Envy’s silver edges are worn black. The tab, q, and x keys often leave their stations. The backspace key broke in half and is held together by cellotape. Several keys, specifically the e, d, c, o, l, and n keys, have lost their identity as my fingernails tapped it away. I often need to consciously press hard on the t, c, and n key to get a response, along with the ctrl key and the delete key. It all slows me down. Every once in a while, the CD drive will pop open on its own, shouting, “Surprise,” like a drunk uncle, just to remind me that it’s there.

So a new computer need can be shown. But, this one still works. I’m just loathe to get rid of things just because they’re not the newest or because it’s less than perfect. Sure, it takes five minutes to fire up. When Chrome is used, five more minutes will pass before that is loaded. It plays pretty well with Windows and Edge, though.

I don’t know. I have the money. It was my birthday and I didn’t get anything else. Maybe it’s time, but I’ll probably let a few more weeks of sleep pass before I look for another. The whole thought train reminds me that I bought my first computer forty years ago.

Seems like it was yesterday.

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Twosdaz Theme Music

I heard something hit the house last night. ‘Bout midnight. Turned out to be Twosda, August 5, 2025, staggering into the siding. Cool night, and mostly clear, offering views of a waxing moon and a spill of stars. We’re relaxing in 76 F air with a cloud-stained coating of sun-filled blue sky. 86 F wil be the thermometer’s top mark for Ashlandia.

Democratic governors are pleasing me these days. First, a shut out to those Texan Dems who left the state to prevent the Trump-Abbott collusion to destroy democracy in Texas and the United States. Second, huzzah to the Dem governors who took them in, and the Dem govs standing up to the GOP bullshit. California Gov. Newsome and Democratic New York Gov. Kathy Hochul are vowing to redistrict to counter Abbott’s moves in Texas. Frankly, I think such forceful action is needed. Meanwhile, Robert Hubbell published encouraging news in More signs of life among Senate Democrats.

Hearing of the Trump Regime’s eager use of space stuff to try to distract from the Epstein list, The Neurons loaded a song about the moon in the morning mental music stream. “Walking on the Moon” is a 1979 raggae rock offering by The Police. Sting wrote the song, mentioning being drunk as inspiration and also an early love. The Neurons entertained me with visuals of Trump waddling around the moon. The Neurons thought that Trump would trip and start uncontrollabling bouncing across the moon’s surface.

I’ve had a wink of coffee. Think I’ll have forty more. Hope grace and peace has its way with you today. Cheers

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Twosdaz Wandering Political Thoughts

Sean Duffy, acting interim pretend director of NASA, wants to ‘expedite plans’ to put a nuclear reactor on the Moon. This is probably because, as everyone who has ever seen the numbers on space programs, sending people and equipment to the Moon is incredibly cheap right now, thanks to Trump’s tariffs. Also, thanks to Trump’s tariffs and the beautiful revenue flowing in to the Treasury, more money than anyone has ever seen at one time. The deficit will drop by 1500% overnight, so the U.S. will have more money to spend than ever imagined.

They also want to launch a new U.S. space station. With Trump’s love of gold, I’d expect the interior to be lavishly bedecked with gold plated pieces, including a gold plated toilet. He’ll probably want it named for hisself, so the regime will be launching the the Donald J. Trump Space Station. Melania Trump, who is a genius, as everyone knows (she married Trump!), will emerge from her seclusion to design the new space suits. Trump Space Industries will manufacture them (in China, of course). They will have tags which say, “Made in the U.S.A.”

Cost overruns will beset the project. So will schedule problems and delays because other countries which have the needed materials and manufacturing resources dropped the U.S. as a trading partner. Seeing the numbers, TACO will growl, “You’re fired,” replacing the project director with someone more familiar with Trump math, such as a Fox News anchor, or one of his personal lawyers. “Give me a Sharpie,” the Donald will bark, and then he’ll fix the numbers with a Sharpie, as he’s prone to do. (You should see the Sharpie markups of his personal Trump Bible!) He’ll tell us about his uncle, who was a professor at M.I.T., and tell us how his uncle taught him everything anyone knows about space and space travel back in 1980.

Trump will call it the big beautiful space mission, the most beautiful mission ever in the history of the world, the very, very greatest space mission ever. Grossly overloaded with gold, corrupted by Trump math, forced to use substitute products, the gold-plated Trump Rocket won’t clear the gantry and collapse on the launch pad. Comedians and social media will overflow with a comic Trump failure to launch meme.

“It’s Biden’s fault,” Trump will shriek, and order everyone to start talking about something other than the rocket launch failure. A text will fly across Trump social media. “The lying scum democrat Deep State led by lying Newsom and KAMALA HARRIS and Barack HUSSEIN Obama did this to me because they don’t want to Make America Great Again. THIS WILL NOT STOP US. WE WILL BUILD THE BEST ROCKETS AMERICA HAS EVER SEEN AND THEY CAN’T STOP US. Thank you for your attention to this matter.”

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Mundaz Wandering Political Thoughts

Time to take stock of other people’s thoughts and insights into the current political scene in ‘Murica 2025.

Sadly, too many voters did not realize what the lesson was.

It’s the Trump shuffle, a dazzling tapdance of deflection, projections, and lies that easily beguiles the weak-minded.

He admits the affair but denies the abortions. He won’t run for re-election. Wonder if he’ll end up in the Trump Regime. He has the record for it.

Yep. It’s a metaphor. Funny that it’s probably driven by Trump’s mind. His subconscious is trying to tell him that he’s turning the nation into a sewer.

Yep, the greedy, unprincipled Offal Office liar is living up to his rep as a greedy, unprincipled liar

Those who chose to put on blinders and pretend that the past was different than what history says are doomed to keep trying to rewrite it.

The fact that nobody around him has told him this isn’t how numbers work shows you how afraid of him everyone who works for him is. The fact that he doesn’t know after being in business his entire adult life also explains his many bankruptcies.

That’s the TACO way!

And a final reminder:

Epstein, Epstein, Epstein, Epstein, Epstein, Epstein, Epstein, Epstein, Epstein, Epstein, Epstein, Epstein, Epstein, Epstein, Epstein, Epstein. With Trump. Smirking together.

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Mundaz Theme Music

57 F was our morning air temp, giving us a comfy chill for an Ashlandia summer morning. Clouds were squirreled into one sky corner, presenting the sun with an open path. A high of just 82 F, below our average, is expected to crown the day. No smoke; no fires, knock wood.

I’m just climbing back into the world today. Yesterday was chill. Wife and I visited the Oregon Cabaret to see Disaster! and have a brunch. Quite a silly musical, exquisitely campy. Taking off on the disaster movies which ruled like Marvel movies back in the 1970s, the setting was a casino on a docked ship. The dock was new, incomplete, and built on a fault line. The shady owner skirted regulations and cut corners. We had earthquakes, a tidal wave, fire, explosions, and a few love stories. One love story was behind a retired couple’s story while the other was about a couple with an aborted wedding. All this was structured around popular music from that era, such as “Saturday Night”, “Hot Stuff”, and “Sky High”. A couple of the performers, such Molly Stillens as the singing nun — it’s a 1970s disaster setting, remember? — really leaned into the campiness and made it shine. Good food and a fun show that fostered multiple belly laughs.

Back home in mid afternoon, reading to finish a book due back to the library was undertaken. Ministry of Time was well written, with deeply drawn characters and an interesting variation on standard ‘time-travel’ concepts. Kaliane Bradley is beautifully inventive polishing phrases. Then I wrote for an hour, followed by yard work. Little news was taken in.

Today’s song is “After the Gold Rush”. The Neurons remembered the song as I took coffee on the front porch and investigated nature’s plate with idle curiosity about what was planned, what was done, what was to come sort of montage. Neil Young wrote it and released it while I was in high school. Many covered it later. One famous cover came from a trio of famous singers: Dolly Parton, Emmylou Harris, and Linda Ronstadt, which was released in 1999. While Neil’s version as as heartfelt and raw as Neil sings everything, the trio’s harmonizing lifts the lyrics into another realm. Hope you enjoy it.

Time to let Munda stamp me with its intentions. Coffee has been had. Let me go forth. May peace and grace find you this day and everyday. Cheers

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Acfloofpuncture

Acfloofpuncture (floofinition) – Floofese practice of inserting claws into skin to cure disease, relieve pain, incur relaxation, or for amusement. Origins: 1784, Flooftin.

In Use: “Snuggles was rapidly demonstrating herself as an acfloofpuncture specialist, sinking claws into every piece of human skin offered her.”

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Sundaz Wandering Thoughts

We were out shopping. This goes into the home decor bucket. I didn’t realize it, but we needed new kitchen towels for the upcoming autumn season. The previous inhabitants were food stained.

My wife said, “We also need new pillows.”

For what room and use, I wondered.

“The ones we have are too large. We need smaller ones, like that one lumbar pillow.”

Ah, I see, it’s the living room.

“Where did we get that lumbar pillow?” she finished.

I shrugged. I don’t have deep vested interest in the living room pillows.

Our shopping target was HomeGoods. A home furnishings store, it’s a TJ Maxx & Marshalls sibling. They sell at a discount. I often have a sense that they rebuy the stuff that couldn’t be sold in Macys and stores of that level to be resold at a discount.

We walked into the store from the 90 F degree summer heat into a tacky Halloween explosion. We had black skeletons festooned with glitter or lights. Halloween skulls and gnomes, fake pumpkins in displays of cotton, yarn, plastic, and glass. Halloween place settings with skulled plates and glasses were set up. Halloween blankets and pillows were available along with Halloween mugs. We were throw back onto our back foot by this display. Halloween was a weed, taking over a quarter of the store.

“What happened to the fall?” my wife asked.

Then we remembered. We’d come here a few weeks before Easter onto to find they were on July 4th. Of course they were on Halloween.

I cogitated, “I bet the Thanksgiving stuff will hit around October 1st.” I remembered then, that last year the Christmas stuff was out in bulk before Halloween.

I wouldn’t be surprised to see it Christmas in July in a few years.

So it’ll be Thanksgiving in June in the United States. At least at the stores.

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