Saturday, October 27, 2012

Time, space, and whatever else those two things don't cover

Sitting for an hour.  Maybe.  Don't really want to go outside ... it's a little chilly.  I detest the cold; always have.  It grabs me, and I struggle to free myself.  It's as if it owns me or I've manage to cease its existence.  Very odd relationship we have.  Anyway.  Sitting for an hour.

Facebook rankles me.  I don't go there unless compelled, but I can't kill the notifications I get because sometimes - rarely - they are useful.  Just got one - the unuseful breed.

It's cloudy here.  Tropical Storm/Hurricane Sandy will be here in a few days.  Landfall Monday night - to me a day later.  No idea, of course, where the eye of whatever will be left of it will go. I'm supposed to get about 3" of inch.  Not bad.  Will see sustained winds of Trop Storm whatever - greater than 39 MPH lasting for over one minute.  That's the test, I understand.  I'll soap up the car before it gets here.  These things come and go, so no worries.  The only thing I will watch is movement.  I think it was 1973 when a tropical storm came here and stalled.  Washed out Wilkes-Barre.  In a feat of thoughtful engineering, they built flood walls up river to push it all down here.  We tested that theory last year when Bloomsburg was half underwater.  Effective.  One model has the storm coming here, turning around, then going back out to sea.  The issue is how long it hovers.  In '73, Agnes dropped 7" here and upwards of 19" on the other side of Blue Mountain.  This storm is nothing close to that.  I've got a case of Molson Canadian and some whiskey. Plenty of propane to cook.  25 gallons of water.  I'll be fine.  Onward.

You know I don't watch television except an occasional sports program, but it is often on in the next room.  This early afternoon's treat is some idiot that dresses like Elvis, is an out-of-control hoarder, and used to teach our children.  I could end the production of this (and every) episode in 30 seconds:  "You like this?"  When the main character whimpers affirmatively, I'd crack open a wall until I found a supporting beam, chain the loser to it, then fire up the bulldozers.  When the place is transformed into a neat pile of waste, it'd become a funeral pyre.  Done.  No, I haven't patience for such things.  Nor do I care for television programs or movies during which the average dialogue is presented through yelling.  I don't yell.  It suggests a lack of control.  But being yelled at is something I have enjoyed, deeply, coming from the right person ... smile.

Another fricking Facebook notification - So-and-so posted Halloween pictures.  Oh joy.  Delete.

I upgraded to Windows 8 last night.  I'm sure the computer is happy.  Computers enjoy such things.  Doesn't do much for me.  It demands a Microsoft account to do certain things.  I refuse.  Remember how long it took to figure out how to kill Windows Messenger?  And before we figured it out, it kept popping up with notifications to chat with seXXXykitten018.  Listen, little girl, I'm old enough to be your grandfather.  Hell, for all you know, I AM your grandfather.  Smarten up.  Get some respect.  And don't think you're good enough to be any sort of replacement through cyberspace that can't be found with a pulse within 15 minutes of trying.  Whew.  Moving on.

So Gary, our Elvis hoarder, has a clean place now.  The psych is concerned for his mental stability.  No shit. They're creating a safe pathway for him.  How nice.  Shoot him!  Shoot him now!  Oh man, someone's crying.  Pathetic.  The show's over.  Oh please, don't be a marathon.  Please.  Oh nice!  Voiceover tell us some body is found hanging off a bridge with a gunshot wound in the back of his head.  Where does these television shows come from?  No wonder I watch MLB Network.

I'm glad this coming storm stayed out of the Gulf.  I watched P'cola closely the one, and was relieved as it went west of there.

Oh joy, some English thing is on when in the timeframe when they had servants.  I really gotta step outside.

I'm going to see this guy tonight in Hershey ... should be funny.

Alright, I'm off.  Thanks for this time.  Bye for now.

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