I can’t stay long . . . got things to do and many snacks to eat before I sleep.
In lieu of amazing narratives or words of deep wisdom I will — instead — regale new readers with a link to one of my most fun posts. There was also a sequel because I had to remove product labels from a few items or YouTube would have blocked publication of the videos. Go figure.
If not interested in clicking links, let me offer a few words of wisdom to tie you over until my next self-serving and semi-boastful tirade. Here they are:
If anyone claims to have the answer, you can be sure they don’t understand the question.
And now, the photo:
When people complain about how tough their lives are, show them this photo of surgical tools from the Civil War era. If you were lucky, the surgeon wouldn’t have run out of Ether or Chloroform.
Of course, that was still a number of decades before germ theory became accepted so even a “successful” surgery carried high risks. About two-thirds of the 620,000 Civil War deaths were due to disease and infection.
. . . medicine has advanced since then . . .
. . . but some things you can’t do much about. At least, not until our future robot overlords come up with ways to extend our lives. Why would they, you ask? Well, because they’ll have compassion for their pets.
Speaking of which, I came across this doodle of an Octopus Moonlighting as an Exotic Dancer in Las Vegas.
And . . . that’s it
Some of these posts will likely be longer as the mood hits me, but most will be thus; short, uninteresting, bland, and relentless.
You can read about Project 313 HERE.
That’s it. This post has ended . . . except for the stuff below.
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. . . my FP ward . . . chieken shit.
Finally, if you interpret anything on this blog as me asking or wanting pity, sympathy, or complaining about my life, or asking for help and advice, know you’re likely missing my subtle mix of irony, sarcasm, and humor.