Science fiction, fantasy, mystery and what-not
I was deep into a writing day at the coffee shop when I happened to look up. Across the room was a young girl—maybe six. In her hand was a huge chocolate croissant. I swear the pastry was as large as her head. She kept attacking it with her tiny mouth, trying again and again to make inroads into the dough.
As I smiled to myself and glanced around, I noticed others doing the same. We all seemed to feel it: the quiet pleasure of witnessing a sweet moment—a sweetie going after a sweet.
Twas the day before tomorrow
And all through the land,
Was a man on television,
A person who many couldn’t stand.
Blustery and yelling,
Threatening to be harsh and mean,
Much of what he said made no sense
To those watching the scene.
“Affordability is a hoax,”
He shouted again and again.
“You just watch me, I’ll make it end.
“I inherited the worse job in the land.
“But it’s getting better,
“Just close your eyes and pretend.
“Start buying less of what you want,
“Prices will go down,
“Ten thousand percent, twenty thousand,
“So much! It’ll astound!
“You’ll be much happier
“With one room instead of three,
“If you work harder,
“Eat less eggs and meat,
“Play with less dolls,
“And watch less Teevee.
“You’d better be peaceful,”
He added in a rising voice,
“Or I’ll bomb you all
“Because you give me no choice.”
He finished up with a scowl and a smirk,
And stumbled away with a twitch and a jerk.
Then we read his holiday texts as day went into night,
“I’m the best ever.
“Give up! Don’t fight!”
With Trump involved, so many ways to contemplate this news evolves.
Will they be gold plated battleships?
With Trump trying to turn back time and erase history, how many masts and sails will the Trump class of ships have?
Will the Trump class of battleships be as successful as Trump Steaks, Trump Air, Trump Institute, and Trump University?
Which will be finished first: a Trump class battleship, the Trump ballroom, a Trump cellphone delivery, Trump’s next impeachment trial, Trump Ocean Resort Baja Mexico, or Trump’s funeral?
Is the Trump class of ships as real as Trump’s ACA replacement plan?
Are Trump’s promises and assurances about this new class of ships named after him any more significant than his promises to reduce inflation on day 1?
Does Dozy Donny’s statements about this new class of ships carry the same weight as his promise that “Mexico will pay for the wall?”
Dizzy Donny is referring to it as the ‘Golden Fleet’. Is it possible he’s thinking of ‘the golden shower’, like the one he had in Russia?
“The U.S. Navy will lead the design of these ships along with me, because I’m a very aesthetic person,” Trump said.
Yes, sure. Just look at what he’s done to the White House’s East Wing, Oval Office, and Rose Garden. They’re sooooo aesthetic.
Not.
“Hello, you old geezer.”
That was my opening to Dad when I phoned him today. My opening was part of a routine we’ve been doing for five decades, except I used to refer to him as ‘old man’. In a previous call, I’d explained to him that he’d graduated from being an old man to being an old geezer.
Dad responded as expected. “Boy,” the nonagenarian said. “I can still kick your butt.”
I laughed. “Sure, if I hold your cane for you and keep your oxygen on hand.”
He laughed. “Yeah, that’s true.”
Lots of laughter and teasing followed. It was a good conversation.
Floofteel (floofinition) – An animal who exhibits high class, or aristocratic mannerisms and behavior. Origins: 1603, Flooflish derived from Flench, itself originating with Old Flooftin, floof, meaning a furry creature. Traced to ‘gentle floof’ which grew into its current form, floofteel.
In Use: “A long-haired floofteel, Cora received guests visiting her owner, JaMykael, like she was a queen meeting subjects there to pay homage.”
The holiday party season has kicked off. One day already this week. Tonight is the second. Then there are parties, outings, brunches, and get togethers on Satyrda, Sunda, Twozda, and Thirstda. My spouse is quite popular. That’s a lot of socializing for one like me, who, my wife tells me, is a virtual recluse. Thank dawg for the breaks.
Getting ready was easier this year. Weight loss has given me a broader range of clothing choices. Hurrah for that. Most important part of this was that I didn’t need to iron anything. Hurrah for that!
Also, my wife still giggles whenever she encounters me in underwear with a shirt and socks but sans pants. Come on, girl, it’s been more than fifty years. Do you really still find it that humorous?
Guess it’s one of those eyes of the beholder things.
And it’s more sleight of hand in Trump’s MAGAland.
Trump announced with great fanfare that he’s gifting the troops a 1776 bonus. Tax clear.
Yes, this is another absolute scam. Money was already appropriated for military housing. Trump deviously redirected some of it and called it a win. Like moving the goalposts, innit? All to bribe the military’s approval of him because he’s that shallow, weak, and desperate for approval.
Did you hear? Trump believes himself to know more about grass than anyone because he owns a lot of golf courses.
Trump added, “I have a lot of golf courses all over the place. I know more about grass than any human being, I think, anywhere in the world.”
~snip~
*cough cough gag gag laugh* Sure he does.
Trump also complained that lawn mowers are complicated and probably need a high IQ to operate.
Trump said, “Farming equipment has gotten too expensive. They put these environmental excesses on the equipment, which don’t do a damn thing except make it complicated, make it impractical, and frankly, you really have to be, in many cases, you need about 185 IQ to turn on a lawnmower.”
As I’ve noticed many ‘brown-skinned’ people, the kind that that Trump routinely disparages, operating lawnmowers during the last decade, does this mean that they have high IQs?
I think Trump’s opinion about needing a high IQ to turn on a lawnmower makes us realize what a true idiot he is. I wonder, too: did Trump ever try turning on a lawnmower?
Maybe that’s how Trump hurt his hand. He tried turning on a lawnmower but wasn’t smart enough.
Finally…
Happy holidays!
The Great Penny Adjustment of 2025 has begun! Here’s my two cents about it.
The last penny in the United States was minted, ending a 238-year run.
The last pennies minted sold for a mint.
Yes, there’s a national penny shortage now because pennies are no more. Well, there are no new ones. Hoarding pennies is a contributing factor. People hope their pennies will be worth more someday…
Here in Ashlandia, businesses are adjusting. My current favorite coffee hang, RoCo, has announced that due to the penny shortage, change will be rounded off to the nearest multiple of five. They’re always giving me six cents in change. I’ve always told them, “Keep the penny,” or dropped it into the ever present penny bowl.
Will the penny bowl remain? Doubtful. I mean, why would they?
Now BiMart has a notice up: “Due to the nationwide penny shortage, please pay in correct change.”
They owed me 88 cents after my purchase. I told them to keep the pennies. The cashier replied, “Thanks. I only have two pennies left.” Then she took a nickel off the top of the register. “Someone found this and gave it to me. You take it.” I laughed and accepted, thanking her. That was the gracious thing to do. I’ll pass it on to someone else.
Penny for your thoughts?
I found her joke hilarious. Hope you click on it and enjoy it, too. Hugs ‘n cheers
I live on Clay Street. Diane Street is three blocks away. It’s to the north, so it’s ‘up north’. But it’s at a lower elevation, so it’s ‘down the road.’ I pretty comfortably hold these two ideas in mind, even though they might appear to be at odds with one another. I suspect that this is why so many of The Neurons are packing up and abandoning me.
Michael Seidel, writer 