We had to buy a birthday card for someone yesterday. I’d not bought a card for about two months. We tend to buy cards early so we have them on hand and buy a plethora of cards at once for birthdays coming up in the next several months. Anyway, in the time since I last shopped and now, our favorite local greeting cards purveyor, BiMart, had rearranged their greeting cards offering. Further they’d reduced them.
My wife said, “Where are all the other cards?” My wife is a greeting cards fan. When we go on vacation, she visits local stores for greeting cards. She walked around in shock, checking other aisles. “They’ve really cut back on the cards.”
I agreed. “Guess it’s a business decision.” I was mentally shrugging. This didn’t fit in as one of my pet peeves and I wasn’t overly bothered.
Then we started looking for a card for a female, celebrating her 70. She’s a friend…
“What have they done?” my wife said. “There are no friend cards.”
True, I saw. No friend cards. There was a small selection for LGBTQA+. Moms and sisters dominated. Grandmothers and aunts could be satisfied. Daughters. But friends? No. The greeting cards had become weirdly overspecialized, at least in this chain store.
“Guess we have to go to CVS,” my wife huffed. As we were walking out, though, she offered comments about it to an idle cashier, complaining about how much the cards had cut back and how overspecialized they’d become.
I’d walked on, waiting for her at the door. It just wasn’t one of my pet peeves.
I was in charge of a small law enforcement unit, part of a national agency. We were all casually dressed, not even up to casual Friday standards. The people I led were young and inexperienced but eager. We’d been working on a case. Now we were closing in for the arrest. I was cautioning them, “But we don’t want to arrest them too soon. We are still gathering evidence in other aspects, and we want them to think that they’re one step ahead of us. In reality, we’re one step ahead of them. But we need them to be overconfident until it’s time to make all of the arrests.”
We were arresting a small gang of middle-aged individuals. No idea what their crime was. At this point, the dream evolved into us arriving at a place, waiting for the criminals to arrive, then ‘accidently’ revealing ourselves, letting them get away, to our feigned frustration. We did this five times before the other units announced that all traps were in place, and then we sprang our trap and arrested them. Only then did their leader realize that my team had been conning him. The look on his face was priceless.
It’s Thirstda! I’m glad about it because The Neurons kept telling me that yesterday was Thirstda. I accused them of being out of sync and reality deniers, much like Trump. Man, they fumed with indignation after that, sputtering about how wrong it was for me to compare them to TACO, who is deeply and grossly embedded in an alternate reality, in The Neurons’ opinions. “We’re not like that,” they kept telling me until I finally acquiesced and gave a half-warm fake apology about being sorry for comparing them to Trump. That mostly shut them up but they still sulked for a while.
Today’s numbers are 11/13/2025 and 60/64/56 for month/date/year and current/high/low temperatures in F. Wind is busy teasing the poor trees and leaves into mad waving and racing. It’s the kind of wind that has me checking to ensure nothing has blown away. Papi came in after I’d spotted him huddled hard against something, head down. Soon as I opened that door, he bolted in. Then he gave an angry look back, like he was swearing vengeance against the wind, and launched himself into a hard house gallop. Besides the wind, it’s sunny now, but it did rain and more rain is s’posed to be dropping, even if it doesn’t look it now.
I know I mentioned it before but I will reiterate, having my gallbladder removed has left me feeling amazingly better. I sleep better, have more mental and physical energy, with better focus. I feel less angry, anxious, and emotional, and less troubled and more confident about the future. I’m wary about what I eat as I slowly re-engage a wider range of offerings while keeping the fat down, and monitor my body’s response. I do miss being able to fully exercise. While I’m jogging, I’m restricted from lifting more than 20 pounds. Pushups and planks and wallsits are all out for now.
I had two terrific dreams last night that I recall. Both had me laughing as I recalled them. As I finished working over the dreams, I want into thinking and writing my novel in my head and ‘lo, the muses came and gave the writing neurons some sweet little details to insert. It’s great when things like that work out. I’m eager to get into it later today.
Today’s music is “Blind Spot” by Bruce Springsteen.
I’m not certain why The Neurons have “Blind Spot” in the morning mental music stream. The clue might be in that chorus. “Everybody’s got a blind spot that brings them down, everybody’s got a blind spot they can’t get around.” Was I thinking of blind spots? I don’t know. It appears that the reason behind The Neuron’s song choice is…ahem…hidden in a blind spot.
You saw that coming, didn’t you?
Well, the Trump Epstein Shutdown of 2025 set a record but ended. Now we’ll see what happens with the Epstein files. There have already been some interesting emails leaked up about Trump’s involvement. May the leaks become a flood.
Hope peace and grace find us soon. Meanwhile, coffee is giving a pep talk to The Neurons about the need to be alert, active, and optimistic. Here we go, once again. Rock on. Cheers
Windy, sunny, foggy, chilly, cloudy. That’s Wenzda in a string of weather words. Also noisy with someone’s machine droning out a long song. Birds are scarce. Papi did a floofstep this AM, bouncing to the door when opened to gallop out, he slammed on the paws, and backed himself back into the house. He no like wind. The numbers for today, November 12, 2025, are 54, 56, and 52. Seriously. That’s what I was told is our current temp, and the high and low, all in Fahrenheit.
Mom is doing so much better now. While sis related that to me, she’s returned to texting with me, and they’re much more intelligent and thoughtful. She texts, “You’ll never know how much I miss Frank.” I will not, but my mind can give it some insights. They were together as a 24/7 couple for most of two decades, sharing meals and jokes, opinions and rants, tending each other when sick or recovering. I do get it but I won’t ever know all the ways he was there for her. I’m happy they were together, because I saw how happy they made one another.
As for me yesterday, I gut tested more food offerings and felt pretty confident that all was going well. At least, no overt reversals took place telling me otherwise. I call that a win. I’ve also noticed I have much higher energy levels now, sleep better, and think better. I still dream a huge amount but that’s something else. Bottom lining it, the surgery definitely was for the best.
Today’s music is “Love Runs Out”. That started in my head, “until the floof runs out.” I found Papi’s wind reaction very funny, which he, an austere cat with a measured gaze, did not find amusing. But when I chuckled about his reversal and sang a bit of half-remembered tune with my inserted words, The Neurons said, “Oh, that’s One Republic, here we go,” and delivered the melody to the morning mental music stream.
Haven’t checked the news. Enjoying the morning so much, I thought I’d give myself a reprieve before I submitted to seeing what fresh political bullshit the Trump Regime lays on the world. Far as I know, the Trump Epstein Shutdown of 2025 is still going on, and the GOP is giving a pass to Trump’s unsavory character and hiding his crimes, making them his accomplices. But hey, they got that Jesus thing going for them, right? “Who would Jesus be cruel to,” they ask themselves daily, and gleefully respond, “Everyone who is not us!” The GOP is a depraved bunch. Sure, there may be a few who are not, but given their silence and/or active participation of the GOP mass, they’re rarer than a daisy in Antarctica.
Epstein and Trump, forever together.
Coffee is serenading Les Neurons. Hope peace and grace find their way out of the wilderness and back into our lives. Meanwhile, here we go. Time to rock on. Cheers
Okay, this is a first world rant. Part of the first world blues I’m always singing.
My recurring prescription drugs are supplied through Express Scripts. And it works great. Except when it doesn’t. It didn’t this week.
I received a message from them to give them authorization to start an autofill on one of my prescriptions. I logged in and did as required. Another message came in: you have one item in your cart. Please complete your purchase.
WTAF?
I didn’t ‘complete the purchase’. I gave them feedback. Asked them to call.
Which they did. It was Kelly. She explained why she was calling in a chipper, professional voice edged with a little nervous quiver. I explained why I was annoyed. How I felt the system was telling me to do two different things. She then began explaining to me why my interpretation wasn’t correct. Nothing she was saying aligned with the messages or my experience. Reaching the point of irritation and recognition that nada was getting changed, I thanked Kelly and prepared to hang up.
“Well, do you want me to take care of getting the autofill restarted?” she asked.
Well, I thought I’d done that when I logged in and clicked on a button to start autofill. “Yes, please,” I answered. Kelly talked through the process of what had happened, what she was doing, and…
Her tone faltered. I sensed that she saw exactly what I meant in my complaint. Then, she finally said in a low voice, “Sometimes this system doesn’t make sense.”
Vindication!
I smiled.
“Is there anything else I can help you with?” Kelly asked.
My smiled stayed. “No, Kelly. You have a great day and a great week.”
“Why, thank you. You, too.”
With that, we said our goodbyes and I basked in my tiny, tiny victory.
Twozdaz, November 11, 2025. Happy Veteran’s Day to my fellow vets. Hope peace and grace find you today and every day. The digit set for today is 49, 58, and 51, with dense fog. Yesterday turned gorgeous for me. Out walking, I encountered the friendliest and most beautiful autumn trees. Such colors and personalities. I’m fortunate to live in a place of such beauty and have the means to enjoy it.
Recovery is going great. Rolled out of bed without any thoughts to the incision sites or how I should move. Just wasn’t any pain or discomfort to remind me to watch out. Having had pain meds in several days. Did begin a protocol of med level Ibuprofen yesterday.
I’m off on a day of errands today. Highlighting the events are picking up my wife’s new glasses. Her last visit with the optometrist revealed her left eye’s vision had severely changed for the worse. She’s eager for new glasses to rectify that. Bought that at Costco one week ago. They called last night to tell us they were ready. After that, Trader Joe for some essentials, and a restaurant to pick up some Vet Day freebies.
With so much information filling our lives on a daily, is it any wonder that The Neurons introduced “Jammin’ Me” into the morning mental music stream? This song is all about too much. Written by Bob Dylan and Tom Petty, who were looking at newspapers and magazines and selecting words and phrases, Petty remembered that Mike Campbell had given him some music, and that’s the genesis of the song. Trippy.
Waiting to see if the Trump Epstein Shutdown of 2025 will end its record run. Disappointing that Dems caved. They won’t earn any credit for caving, and the situation will remain unbearable for millions, and worsen. The cruelty is the point, remember? The destruction of our culture and the rewriting of our history is the point. To put one party permanently in charge is the point. To keep billionaires rolling in money and to enrich Trump is the point. To empower the presidency over the other branches of government is the point. To undermine and enslave the majority is the point. To put children back into factories and women pregnant and back in the kitchen is the point. To have an uneducated, subservient, mute, and compliant population is the point. To have white males rule again is the point. When they say, “Make America Great Again”, this is where they want to take us, back to a time when it was more like this, and regulations didn’t exist to keep people safe and healthy. That’s the point.
Epstein and Trump, party pals!
Time to coffee up. Hope grace and peace find the way to the rest of us, besides the vets. Dense fog just rolled up, blanketing the sun and triggering the house heater. Here we go. Cheers
Blue is struggling for a presence against a gray and white coalition of clouds and fog.The sky is a dramatic pastiche for a classic fall line up of trees showing off golds, reds, yellows, and yes, some greens. My trees out front are into the traditional game of “Which leaf will hang on the longest?” Relevant numbers for this Sunda, November 11, 2025, are 63, 72, and 42, for the present, high, and low. My house’s outside system glowers that it’s still but 54 F out there. Overall, these elements blend into a pleasant fall day, good weather, if you can get it.
My wife is enamored of those talking button mats for floofs. These mats feature buttons which correspond to things like food, water, outside, treat. The floof presses a button to express themselves. We don’t believe Papi will ever be willing to express himself like that. He’s a reserved orange who keeps his thoughts behind a mysterious, watchful facade. We agree that Jade would’ve made full use of the buttons to drive us nuts. She was intelligent, vocal, and willful, wanting to be involved in everything, complaining and chastising us for not being forthright with sharing food, demanding to be pampered. She would’ve been a video star.
I see that Trump is manifesting his concerns about GOP election losses and the ongoing Trump-Epstein Shutdown (TES) of 2025 by losing his mind, blasting out crazier and angrier texts and statements. The GOP has decided that the best course forward is to do nothing, earning them another award as the Party Which Cannot Govern. That’s okay with MAGALand, as they think the government is out to get them and full of liberals which persecute the white man, especially if they’re a good, Christian, God-fearing, honest billionaire like Donald Trump. (Yes, that was 24k snark.) WWJD has left the building; they’re all about What Will Trumpy Do? It’s all good in their books. Evidence of preying on young women? That’s okay. Ripping off the taxpayers? Long as he’s in charge, they’re fine. Preaching hatred, divisiveness, breaking the economy, and starving citizens? Yeah, they good. WWTD. Some are starting to question about what they’ll do AT (After Trump), but they’re using very hushed tones. To question that there will an AT suggests that Trump is mortal, that he won’t be around forever. Judging from the way overweight Dozy Donny is shuffling around at this point, the countdown on him has begun.
So the “Cruelty is the Point” Trump-Epstein Shutdown of 2025 forges further into record territory, protecting Trump from being exposed for what he did with Epstein, stuff that put Epstein in jail, while demonstrating that Trump and the GOP does not give a crap about anyone but the wealthy and powerful. He and they have confirmed who they are, as long as you’re not hiding in some right-wing bubble.
Musically, despite a long and interesting dream, The Neurons are dedicating today’s theme music to DJ Dozy Donny Trump. This comes after reading the news, yeah? The Neurons said, this sounds like today’s morning mental music stream inhabitant should be “Manic Depression” by Jimi Hendrix. Yeah, that’ll play. This is interesting but uneven footage from Jim and Experience doing their thing.
No sign of grace and peace in my area yet. Coffee has answered the call, though, so I have a coffee grin spreading. Hope y’all have an awesome sojourn. Cheers
That’s like a dog warning us there’s going to be barking.
The Trump Regime’s chaos warning would be funny and ironic under other circumstances. They are, by popular agreement, the greatest agents of chaos in the world. Trump has broken trade agreements and withdrawn from commitments whenever and wherever his whim strikes.
Judging from his texts, speeches, and decisions, Trump seems to thrive on chaos. “I’m raising tariffs on China by one billion percent! I’m going to bomb Venezuela. I’m not going to bomb Venezuela. I love Russia! Jeffrey Epstein is a great guy! I might bomb Nigeria! I’m going to build the biggest, greatest and most beautiful ballroom ever and will not touch the White House East Wing. The Gulf of Mexico is now the Gulf of Trump! I’ll stop inflation the first day I’m in office! Google google gaga. Lowering inflation is hard and I can’t do it! I’m lowering prescription drug prices by six thousand percent! We hate Ukraine. I have the concept of the health plan I promised to give you ten years ago! I’ve never heard of Jeffrey Epstein! We love Ukraine. China and I made a deal and I’m lowering tariffs on China by two billion percent! We’re demolishing the East Wing to build my big beautiful ballroom! Russia is mean! I will release the Epstein Files as soon as I’m elected. I saw a giraffe when I was at the doctor! Jeffrey Epstein is a hoax! He’s AI invented by the mean Democrat deep state who run everything out of a bathroom in Bill Clinton’s bathroom, an idea he stole from me, by the way. Tuesdays will now be called Trumpsday. God told me so when I was making water.”
Yes, I made some of that up. But in fairness, it doesn’t include all the crap Trump did through Elon Musk and Doge and the chaos which that spawned. Nor does it address the chaos spread by the dog-killer known as Noem and the extra-military troops known as ICE which she sics on anyone who sneezes the wrong way.
But here is a headline hot off the net about that vacuous agent of chaos, Donald Trump, warning us that because of the Epstein Shutdown which he started and will not address until the Democrats completely capitulate to him and promise to never ever have any more children, the Trump Regime will need to close some air space, which may cause travel chaos.
I suffered from writer’s block this past week. Yes, it’s real. Writer’s block exists. And it affected me.
I traveled with my wife to Pennsylvania to see Mom and celebrate her 90 natal day celebration and see family last week. I thought I’d write on the side. But no. Each time I sat down to write, my phone would ping with a text or ring with a call. I love ’em, of course, and was happy to do whatever favor was being asked, and appreciated getting updates, but The Writing Neurons were not as accepting.
Even on the flights, I had writer’s block. I pulled out my computer. Set it up. Began writing and typing.
Tap, tap, tap.
Wife: “How do I turn the volume up?”
Tap, tap, tap.
Wife: “I can’t get my tray up.”
Tap, tap, tap.
Wife: “Can you open this bottle for me?”
Tap, tap, tap.
Flight attendant: “Would you like more wine, sir?”
Yes, I know, I’m really stretching the complaining envelope here.
It’s good to be back in my cossetted, coveted writing routine. The Writing Neurons had become manic about getting more of the novel-in-progress written, pinging me via the headnet with new insights and plot points.
Now, time to write like crazy, at least one more time.
Michael Seidel, writer 