Caturday

Cake chills after his busy morning of
waking us up and zooming around the house.

Got my second vaccine booster shot yesterday and, goddamn, I’m tired and achey today. Is this is reaction to the shot or am I still in rough shape from overdoing on the exercising earlier this week?

I would have stayed in bed late 'till noon but all my joints (the unsmokable kind) were yelling at me to wake the fuck up. Also too, Cake made it clear that he wanted me to join him and Ten downstairs. What could I do? Besides, as counterintuitive as it seems, moving around will probably raise my energy levels and cut the pain a bit. Tylenol will also help.

I’ll take a short walk later and see if it kills me or no.

Until then, I believe I’ll read more of my latest favorite book, Mobituaries by Mo Rocca.

Mobituaries is an insightful and unconventional account of the people who made life worth living for the rest of us, one that asks us to think about who gets remembered, and why.  (source)

Did you know that, five years after slavery was abolished, in January of 1870 Hiram Rhodes Revels, a Black and born free man, was elected by the Mississippi legislature to fill the Senate seat once held by that traitorous fuck, Jefferson Davis, former president of the Confederacy.

That same year, Joseph Rainey of South Carolina, who was born into slavery, was the first African American to serve in the U.S. House of Representatives, the first to preside over the House and the longest-serving Black lawmaker in Congress during Reconstruction. He was sworn into office on December 12, 1870.

Another did you know, Treasonweasel Jeffy Davis (who had owned 70 humans) fled Richmond, Virginia, the Confederate capital, wearing his wife’s clothing. He was headed for Texas where he hoped to continue to wage war against the Union. He was nailed in Georgia—seems he neglected to accessorize properly and was thoughtlessly wearing his big-ass spurred boots instead of a nice pair of kitten heels. People are gonna notice that kind of inattention to detail.

Naturally, I’m wondering if the perfidious pumpkin hued piece of rabid skunk excrement will try the same trick. He’ll need to shed a hundred pounds or so before he’ll fit into his wife’s duds though.

I’m also learning about Prussia. The book isn’t just about interesting dead humans. It’s also about croaked countries.

No tales of dead aliens, werewolves or trolls yet. I’m hoping they’ll be in the next chapter.