Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz!

I have been mostly dull lately. Like a butter knife. And hoping to find, when called upon, something more in my arsenal than a butter knife. Unless my opponent is actually butter. Then that would be fine. Room temperature butter.
~ Bill Callahan, Letters to Emma Bowlcut

I have become the world’s most boring person. It’s TRUE. All I do is have neurosurgeries, take walks, do PT exercises, read, paint and spend WAY too much time on Twitter and Shoutyface. Christ almighty, I’m considering watching teevee just to add some excitement to my life.

Sometimes, the Brightest Smile,
Has the Dullest Story.
~ Somya Kedia

Yes…well…this is true but the opposite isn’t something to lay money on either. Ya know, a scowl doesn't mean there's an interesting tale in the wings. Honestly, take Prez Russian Doormat, (PLEASE!) – that freeze dried, rat excrement, pizza brain is nothing but sneers and glowering frowny faces. I doubt he’s got even one interesting, engaging, let alone selfless anecdote in his tiny, corrupt bean.

Eternity is not the inexhaustible sum of all the centuries, quite the contrary —it must surely be this absence of time. Absolute calm (which can be more than a little dull!).
~ José Eduardo Agualusa, Nação Crioula

I’d take calm with a fat side of dullness right now. I meet my spine surgeon tomorrow at noon. Just in time too. My upper back and neck have begun screeching at me at top volume: “HEY TWATZILLA, get these tumors removed STAT – we’re in some motherfucking pain! Dig?”

When will my surgery go down? //shrugs// Hopefully I'll find out tomorrow though, with all the Plague related juggling, I expect it'll take a few days to fit me and my wonk-ass bod into the OR schedge.

THIS on top of the daily, horror show news. I feel damn lucky to live in Massachusetts where masks are required attire for shop entree. I keep reading and seeing these clips on Twitter of insanely twat-ish people who refuse to consider the health of their fellow humans. Nope, it’s ALL fucking about them and their delicate convenience.

side note: YES, I'm deaf so I can't hear the Karens and Brads whinge on with their I'M-the-REAL-victim wankage. There's no closed captioning either BUT the body language tells me everything I need to know.

I don’t wish Plague45 on them – that their lungs become enflamed and fluid filled and their breathing becomes a total fucking challenge. I don’t thrill to the idea of their liver and kidneys crapping out OR them descending into septic shock. IF these self obsessed dimwits DO contract Trump’s Disease and survive, I would hope they’re not riddled with heart and blood vessel damage. Having said that, after witnessing the tantrums, I really don’t give a good goddamn whether these guppy brained imbeciles contract their Dear Leader’s hoax virus or not.

Thoughts and prayers, assholes. Thoughts and prayers.

Down here on the Neck, I don’t often see masked bikers, runners or walkers.Though this is in no way a rural area, it’s pretty easy to stay 6+ feet apart.

In conclusion, like I said, zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz!