

Science fiction, fantasy, mystery and what-not
Jill Dennison has curated another magnificent collection of ‘humor’ to highlight the friggin’ insanity imperiling us. I posted my favorites. Go on to her page to find more gems.
Cheers







Not necessarily toons but memes you may enjoy.
Cheers






Ashland, Oregon – Tuesday, March 24, 2026.
It’s warming today but not like much of the continental United States. Currently 68 F, our 75 F high will give us a comfortably warm day.
My wife purchased this little art piece for the house. It’s perfect for us, as we both enjoy reading, and I also write. I enjoy the little reader statue so much, I thought I would share.

My life is otherwise auto-pilot quiet as we go through routine tasks and await news or results.
As I often do, I began reading the news today and ended up struck with some ideas which evolved into a small piece about Trump world. I split it off.
Meanwhile, the basic theme stayed with me: imaginary. Much of Trump’s existence is based on false ideas, misconstrued history, and things which he imagines. My Neurons sensed the direction and introduced “Imaginary Lover” by ARS into my morning mental music stream.
It fits, though: “Imaginary lovers never turn you down.” That’s Trump and his base all the way; they never turn him down.
Also, despite all the files being suppressed and the history that shows Trump was friends with Epstein, Trump is trying to insist that’s not true. He’s trying to tell us that we imagine his relationship with Epstein.
I chuckled when I heard the song in my head. How many of Trump’s base imagine him as their lover?
I hope your day is comfortable, safe, and leaning toward optimistic outcomes.
Cheers
Ashland, Oregon — Monday, March 23, 2026.
Spring has a solid hold on our stretch of valley. 59 F and sunny, we’re heading to the upper 60s today. Good weather if you’re a feline looking for a sunny place to nap…
I will do more yard work. I did all of my tasks yesterday, including pulling weeds. But the weeds have had a very successful year. If I could sell them, I’d be a thousandaire.
I had to again break off part of this post to create a Trump-centric post. I think Trump voters are addicted to hate, and Trump himself addicted to power. He’ll do anything to elevate himself. Lies, fake information, bragging are not beyond him. Nor is AI generated content showing him to be superhero strong, smart, and healthy. To those of us outside of his sphere, we see these things and shake our head, muttering, “What the fuck?” It’s amazing how many of his base can’t see the truth; it’s more amazing to see how many are willing to lie and just go along with Trump. It’s frankly sickening to see how low they’re willing to stoop to pretend things are going great with Trump in office.
Nothing new on Mom nor my health. Just awaiting developments on these fronts.
I ended up with The Neurons playing “Addicted to Love” in the morning mental music stream. It arose from thoughts that Trump is addicted to hate, and his base are addicted to him. I always enjoy the Night of the Proms series so I was pleased to find this video to present.
Hope your life finds you moving forward, healthy, happy, and safe.
Cheers
Ashland, Oregon — Sunday, March 22, 2026.
Light clouds dappled with gray and white haze the sky. Blue peeks through like a shy child. Sunshine has grown bolder, spreading over the greening valley. 56 F, it’s springy in the best way, with the upper 60s listed as the day’s highs.
My wife and I are going through tasks challenges. Each night we ask the other, “What are you going to get done tomorrow?” The answer must be besides the normal activities. Yesterday, she did the quarterly shredding of receipts. Today, she is cleaning the bottom of the freezer. We have a drawer type freezer. I don’t know what happens in there, but below that drawer gets amazingly messy.
My chores include washing her car, pulling weeds, activating her new ID card, and buying a new phone. I already activated her ID, so I’m 25% done. *smile*
Here’s the long story behind that. I’m retired military, and she’s a retired military spouse. When I retired, my retired military ID became “Indefinite”. It wasn’t really indefinite: a new card was needed when I turned 65. At that point, I was eligible for Medicare Part B. My era’s retired military medical benefits change once I’m eligible for that, as Medicare becomes my primary insurance. My Tricare 4Life becomes my secondary insurance.
My wife’s retired military ID continued expiring every four years. That used to mean a trek to an office where a new card could be issued. The computer systems being used made getting this take about an hour. The local office is in Medford and didn’t do appointments. Everything was walk-in. So we would walk-in, join the line and wait about an hour to 90 minutes.
My wife’s card was expiring in July. Imagine my surprise and delight when the systems reached out and asked if we wanted to renew it online. Why, heck, yeah! Double the surprise when her card now has an “Indefinite” expiration now, too!
Thinking about the political and war news today, and Trump and his support, I wondered, are they dreamers? I’d had a very vivid dream and wondered how their minds work. From my POV, they’re unrealistic and full of illusions and delusions.
Proof of this to me is that Trump says one thing, does another, and it doesn’t work out. He’s done this all his life. He’s had failed businesses and bankruptcies. His supporters say, yes, but he’s a billionaire. Yes, but we know that he built that off his father’s empire, inheriting substantial money, lying, cheating others, suing others to bully them to ‘go along with him’.
Trump breaks promises, laws, rules, and norms. He broke businesses; now he’s breaking our nation, and maybe the world. He’s certainly has made it much messier.
Anyway, with those thoughts stacking in my mind, The Neurons responded with a Supertramp song, “Dreamer”, in the morning mental music stream. That actually had roots in the lyrics “Far out, what a day, a year, a life it is”. Of course, I was shaking my head as I thought it. *smile*
“Dreamer” is a simple song. I found a video of it being done as part of the Night of the Proms series. I always like how the orchestras add to the song. Honestly, I find it fun to watch the musicians and choir.
Hope your day progresses with joy, happiness, and good vibrations for you.
Cheers
The DIY cycle continues. This week, I bought and replaced a burned-out bulb in my wife’s car, replaced window blinds, and exchanged some bathroom faucet cartridges.
The blinds were for the guest room and are part of our modernization process. The window is 72 inches wide. We had wooden plantation blinds in there. While visiting Mom last year, we saw zebra blinds. Deciding that we liked them, we bought them online. They were frankly a very easy swap over. I did need different mounting brackets but that ‘weren’t no thang’. Whole thing of moving the bed to reach the window, taking down the old stuff, putting up the new, and cleaning up afterward took about 45 minutes. The results are very pleasing.
Changing the damn bulb for the car, though, was accompanied by a lot of GRRRRs and swearing. The bulb was in my wife’s 2003 Ford Focus driver side headlight. It’s a tight space, cleverly engineered, but TIGHT, and required a lot of working via just the feel of my fingers. Removing the old one took about forty-five minutes and ten thousand swear words. Most started with F. Putting the new one in required another fifteen.
The thing is, the bulb is held by a spring door, if you will, which must be pinched and swung aside to get it out. Man, that thing refused to obey my bidding.
But it’s done.
As for the Kohler faucet cartridges…
This is a regular thing. We have three bathroom sinks with these cartridges with two per sink. They seem to need to be replaced about every four to five years. It’s exasperating but easy. I only needed to do one cartridge, one sink on this round. Five minutes, in and out.
Now I’m waiting to see, what’s next?
Something always emerges in DIY world.
Ashland, Oregon — Saturday March 21, 2026.
56 F, spring is holding on against a late winter effort. Today’s sky favors heavy cloud blanketing and pots of sunshine. Blue has been shouldered out of the scene. Our high will tap the low sixties and tomorrow is supposedly going down into the 30s at night.
Round and round is going round my head. I began writing about the news. It became so Trumpcentric, I split it off.
I’m also going round and round with health matters. It’s bizarre to me because I feel pretty damn good. Could lose a few more pounds, and if you’re giving out miracles, put some hair back on my head.
They found a mass in my bladder yesterday. Not big, something like 2cm. We’ll check it out next week, see what it is, deal with it. The CT scan said liver, intestines, spleen, pancreas, appendix all look good. No loose fluid. Kidneys are intact and the right one has come calculi. The summary says all those things look just like they did in the 2021 scans, when kidney stones advanced out of my left kidney. Oh, what a night.
Everything with Mom is going round and round. The tale is familiar and old. Mom seems happy, enjoying others’ company, goes silent with all. All seems well. Then WHAMO. We’re bowled over by unexpected news and then wait for updates. Mom is being very cagey. We’re letting the assisted living home and county adult social services run the show.
So round we go, weather, health, Mom, Trump. The Neurons have blessed me with “You Spin Me Round” by Dead or Alive in the morning mental music stream. The song’s sentiment is about seeing and wanting someone. The disco beat just has me hooked on the idea that things keep me going round like a record.
Amusing: do the children know what it means to go round like a record?
Probably as much as I knew about ‘going spooning’ or a bicycle built for two.
Going round with a cup of coffee now. Hope your day goes well and peace and grace came around.
Cheers
Quixoatic (floofinition) – Animal behavior marked by lofty ambitions which cause chaos. Origins: First seen in print in the novel “Floof Quixotic”, 1855.
In Use: “Dandy’s nights were quixoatic pursuits of bugs, spiders, and things which she only saw — awakening her people with a symphony of as pots meeting the floor.”