Thirstda’s Theme Music
Hello. Excuse me. Is this Thirstda, July 3, 2025? It is? Well, I guess this is where I belong, then.
It’s 74 F now. Gonna be 84 F. Dropping down to a chillier temp tomorrow: 80 F. Nice having a not blazing hot summer. So far, knock wood.
The jobs reports of a 147,000 gains surprised everyone, especially after ADP’s report yesterday that the private sector lost 33,000. Experts are now clamoring, gosh, the U.S. economy is more robust than we thought, and the markets hurtled up with glee. Sure, tourism is down and the national parks are a mess, and manufacturing lost 7,000 jobs and teen unmployment and Black unemployment rose and DOGE cut loose a bunch of people, but all is well. Well, we’ll see.
Kudos to Rep. Hakeen Jeffries for putting himself out there and making the effort. He set a new record for speaking on the House floor, 8 hours and 44 minutes, rebuking the GOTP for that ugly bill that they bizarrely call the One Big Beautiful Bill. It passed in the House, so it’s on the way to Trump. We’ll see what happens next. I expect Trump will celebrate with a new product like Trump Beer, a bargain at $60 a six pack. Then maybe he’ll set up a presidential kissing booth. Loyal MAGAs can pay good money to sidle up and kiss Trump staffer ass.
Today’s music is “Children of the Revolution”. I don’t know why The Neurons put the 1972 song into the morning mental music stream. After going in search of a Rex version, I came across a cover by the Violent Femmes and used it, because I used the Rex version back in 2023 and I like the Violent Femmes. So, here we go.
The sun is shining and the coffee is consumed. I’m off to my physical. Have a better one. Cheers
WP Blues
WordPress blues struck again. Reading another’s post, I moved to comment. WP responded, hey, is this you? We’re asking because you’re not logged in.
I clicked to another tab which indeed showed me logged in.
That led me to an uncomfortable place. I don’t want to log in and re-enter my password on a page asking for such when I’m already demonstrably logged into that site. Cause, suspiciously, even though the URL looked okay and the page seemed genuine, it smelled. It this wasn’t a digital offering on a laptop but instead something tangible, it would stink like milk left out in a hot apartment for a month. It would arouse suspicions like a Nigerian prince offering me a million dollars if I just loaned him five grand for a day.
That’s how we live these days, at least in my abode, where phones aren’t answered unless the number is known, where unexpected packages are treated with deadly caution, strangers knocking on the door are ignored, and links in emails are triple-vetted.
Of course, it might have been some sort of WordPress malfunction. That kinda happens, too.
Wenzda’s Wandering Thoughts
They call it sticker shock. My wife and I labeled it a friggin’ kick in the head.
We decided to make brownies for our annual Fourth of July gathering. To give it an Independence Day flavor, red, white, and blue chocolate M&Ms would be added to the top. I hustled to the store to buy said M&Ms.
First stop, Bi-Mart, didn’t have them. Second stop, Albertson’s, did. One size: 38 ounces.
38 ounces. Seriously? Who needs that many M&Ms? But if I need to…I guess…
$15.99. On sale. Marked down from $17.99.
Get out of here. What are these, organic M&Ms hand-wrapped by virgins in gold foil?
Neither price was acceptable to me. As a boomer, I remember M&Ms as something I bought a little bag of for a quarter. Last time that I bought a pound of M&Ms, they were like $5. Even a pound bag seemed more than enough, and this wasn’t that many years ago. What are people doing, spooning M&Ms into their mouths?
The world has gone friggin’ nuts. I really am channeling the old codger in me, aren’t I?
Wenzda’s Theme Music
It’s Wenzda, aka humpday, but also July 2, 2025. Cooled down to a comfortable level last night some and the morning ingredients are calling birds, blue sky, sunshine, and 72F. High will be 83 F, a drop from what I saw yesterday at my casa, 95 F.
I realized this morning that I’m in a metaphorical holding-my-breath state. So many balls in the air. I scan horizons for ‘the next’ in six different directions. Out there is the One Big Beautiful Bill, known in some places as the Big Ripoff, the Great Screwed Up Give to the Rich bill in others. Trump was again idiotically blithering on TV like someone who shouldn’t be allowed out on their own again. Russia and Ukraine’s war continues. Iran and Israel are still out there glaring at one another. Israel bombed some more people in Gaza. Don’t worry: they’re ‘investigating’ how it came to be that they bombed a cafe and killed reporters and workers and such. Yep. Tariffs hang all over everything like toilet paper from trees after Devil’s Night. Supreme Court rulings have been issued and the storms building behind those will come out. It’s Hurricane Season. Europe is suffering record heat and it’s not that cool in ‘Merica, either. Wildfires burn and FEMA is ready to shrug because Trump says states should be doing it for themselves. DOGE has had access to personal data; can that be good? The U.S. measles outbreak has ‘plateaued’ according to the gov’t but has it really? And what will happen with all that new guidance from the science and medicine skewed HHS led by worm brain Kennedy? Killer Noem’s ICE Troops seem more reckless, sanctuary and blue states are being threatened by Trump, he has a new eua-du-shit out, and Musk and Trump have taken their insults to new levels. Then there’s the personal and family stuff.
Hold my breath. Wait to see. What. Is. Next.
Quickening to my mood and thoughts, The Neurons unleashed “I Will Wait” by Mumford and Sons into the morning mental music stream. The song came out in 2012. Led by Marcus Mumford, the band has a different sound but it works for me and enough others that they’ve established a solid career. Hope you find it okay for your Wenzda’s beats.
My follow up dental appointment went well yesterday. All is healing, no problems, no complaints. Biopsy showed nothing of concern from the cyst removed from my gum. Have another appointment, different dentist, for a cleaning.
Coffee-fueled energy is ascending. I’m off to early morning yardwork. Have the best day you can. Cheers
Twosda’s Theme Music
A new day, a new month, but it looks like the same ol’ times. It’s Twosda, July 1, 2025. Yes, we’re through half of 2025. Trumpification of the U.S. in which he brings his special brand of destructive failing shit to the nation and declares it’s wonderful.
The weather has again shifted, so today will be cooler than first forecast. We’re now in the low seventies in Ashlandia but we’re creeping toward the low 90s. Supposed to be in the upper 90s today but the thunder mass made an early stop, coming by Munda instead of Twosda. Some sources claim we’ll only kick the upper 80s today. Time will tell.
2 AM, I stepped outside to view the sky, check the weather, and say hello to the new month. Heat’s hold was softer but it was still as a frozen pond. Stars and planets and galaxies watched me but otherwise I felt unwatched, alone and comfortable. The Neurons took the moment to turn on a 1981 arena rock song by Billy Squier in the morning mental music stream, and “Lonely is the Night”‘s opening filled my headspace.
[Verse 1]
Lonely is the night when you find yourself alone
Your demons come to light and your mind is not your own
Lonely is the night when there’s no one left to call
You feel the time is right, say, the writing’s on the wall, yeah
[Verse 2]
And it’s a high time to fight when the walls are closing in
A-call it what you like, it’s time you got to win
Lonely, lonely, lonely, your spirit’s sinking down
You find you’re not the only stranger in this town
[Chorus 1]
Red lights, green lights, stop and go jive
Headlines, deadlines jamming your mind
You been stealing shots from the side
Let your feelings go for a ride
h/t to Genius.com
I was reading an account of a book about Trump and last year’s campaign and the shooting in Butler that had me doing early morning headshaking.
“They thought I had four or five bullets in me because there was so much blood,” the president said, referring to his would-be White House chief of staff Susie Wiles, future director of communications Steven Cheung and future deputy chief of staff Dan Scavino.
LOL. I bet they never thought that and never said it. Many people exaggerate things and their role and impact and others’ reactions. Some of that are honest errors and memory flaws. But Trump always does this to a hyper extent.
Here’s another quote from another individual that inspired some early morning weariness:
“Bezos said Trump’s instincts showed who he was, and he wanted them to have a friendship,” according to the book.
LOL, again. Anyone paying attention for the last ten years already realized that Trump the grifter, serial womanizer, and huuugggge liar had already shown who he is. Trump showed who he is with his eagerness to shoot United States citizens who were exercising their First Amendment rights. He’s shown it with his golfing hypocrisy, constantly golfing after saying in August of 2016, “I’m going to be working for you, I’m not going to have time to go play golf.” He showed who he is after calling military members loser for being a prisoner or for dying for their country.
But Bezos’s comments don’t surprise after that gaudy wedding display he put on. Bezos is becoming more Trump like with each new moon. Whereas he once showed a social conscience, he’s just another power hungry, greedy leech on society.
On to July. Hope your month brings you joy and satisfaction. Got my coffee. Carry on.
Munda’s Wandering Thoughts
Sunshine hangs long and hot. The temperature rests at 95 F. The sky darkens, heralding a fleet of clouds. The fleet burgeons as more clouds drift over to see what happens. Darkening and darkening under added layers of clouds, the sunshine skips out on the rest of the day. So dark at 4 PM, we’re forced into turning on houselights. Thunder cruises through with long throat clearing. We look out, talking out our thoughts, “Looks lik it’s going to rain.” “It’s going to storm.”
Wind dashes around and through the trees. Then it sinks.
The day grows still and dark. Feeling bored, the thunder slinks off. The darkness stays, the clouds remain, and the temperature puts it hat on 87 F, and stays there. Tension builds as we wait and look, asking each other, looking outside for clues, surfing the net for information. Friends share on the net, “weird weather.” No one knows nothin’; we wait.
It’s weather’s move.
The Writing Moment
The coffee shop had net problems today. Shrugging that away, I told myself, “Just write and check the net later.” Two and a half hours later, I’d finished 2300 words and the story had progressed as if I had some notion of what the hell was going on.
The Hunger Band was on my stomach’s center stage by then, their first notes careening through the rest of my bod. Coffee shop net still down, I listened to the Hunger Band’s sorrowful lyrics about dying of starvation and decided, “Yes, I’ve written enough. Time to go home and eat.”
Now to explore the kitchen to see what the Hunger Band will find acceptable. Salad? Maybe. Burrito?
Hmmm.
Munda’s Theme Music
Boom, and it’s June’s last day n 2025. Boom, it’s another Munda.
Today is Munda, June 29, 2025. Boom, it’s gonna get hot again in Ashlandia. 99 F. 73 F at the mo. My friend in Melbourne, Australia is miserable with cold, wet rain. I feel for him. The weather rarely satisfies us for many consecutive moments, especially if you’re a prince like me, cognizant of every ripple casting anything less than perfection.
Despite a heavy load of dreams, today’s music comes from PINO Trump’s “One Beautiful Big Bill”. News outlets are generally roiling with disgust about the bill. It’s a grab bag for the rich and strips away help for the poor and sick, and shreds protections for our land, water, and air. The bill removes gun controls and taxes so it’ll be easier and cheaper for people to pay guns. This, in a nation already slathered with gun violence. Just this weekend, two fire fighters were shot and killed and others were wounded in an ambush in Idaho. People polled are heavily against the One Big Beautiful Bowel Movement, for just reasons.
Yet, this bill is the perfect bill for this nation at this point. Filled with what the fuck provisions, sponsored and pushed by a liar and a cheat (yes, that’s Trump), it’s a bill by a billionaire for a billionaire. One that encourages and rewards greed, violence, and selfishness. Perfect for the ‘Christian Nation’ visualized in Project 2025. I have always considered Trump a con man; now his con has come to full light, and his supporters are the main marks.
BTW, read Mock Paper Scissors small’s bite on the bill: Playing Clue: GOP, In Congress, With Paperwork. If that doesn’t cause your GRRRR Meter to max out, nothing will.
Today’s song, then, is “Nasty” by Janet Jackson. The Neurons popped the song into my morning mental music stream after I read about the bill and the GOP capitulation and hissed, “Nasty.” That was all it took, and I was hearing, “Nasty. Oh, you nasty boys.”
Just read that Trump is to visit America’s newest Florida funpark, Alligator Alcatraz. Maybe a gator will get ‘im. It’s good to have dreams.
Hope your weather fits your needs and your day works out beautifully. I’ll do my best. Give me a cuppa. Here we go. Cheers
Michael Seidel, writer 