MIG is moving house
ER found a new hydrant
None of these google street views look like it. 3rd one is just a standard fat boy, right? On top of a cistern?
brucine (broo'-seen), 1) n. Pharm., Chem. a bitter, poisonous alkaloid, C23H26N2O4, obtained from the nux vomica tree; 2) n. Bruce Bortin's 'low-impact' weblog
I love these bunnies.
Salt lick detail
Former boomerang. Now it’s just a stick.
Huck can not be trusted
Gayle’s cherry pie
That oak on the hill
It's like having the worst girlfriend ever, who you are madly in love with but who treats you like shit, makes you sell your car and house and furniture and even your high school yearbook that your crush from 10th grade signed and told you that you were cute. She's told you to stop talking to anyone you've ever cared about, they don't want to talk to you while you're still dating her anyways.
You sell your clothes so she can go out and buy new ones. You eat ramen every meal so she can eat at the best restaurant in town. In the morning you think about her and in the evening you think about her and when you go to take a crap but you can't because you're constipated you're reminded of her. You wake up and if she's not in bed with you you get the chills, your eyes water, you have diarrhea, you sneeze, your muscles ache, you have anxiety, you have depression, you don't want to eat because food isn't appealing even though your stomach is rumbling, you don't particularly want to drink but you're dehydrated so you force yourself to drink some water, and during all this your skin is crawling as if it was dirty covered in goose-bumps from who knows where and you wish you were still asleep so you could at least pretend she was still in the bed with you.
But you're awake now. So you get out of bed, and you go find her. Maybe today you won't have to do something that compromises your morals to find out where she's gone, but really you don't even care, as long as there is a way. You walk an hour and forty five minutes to get on the bus. You travel for another 45 minutes on public transportation. You get off at the train station in the bad part of town. All the while you have to shit so bad but you know once you find her that will be solved. You're hungry but dont want to eat, once you find her you can eat. You feel dirty and sad and anxious but once you find her she'll bathe you and make you happy and calm.
But right now your walking through the ghetto. You walk another 20 minutes. Maybe it's cold and raining, if so you are so so so cold. Maybe it's hotter than hell and that just makes you feel dirtier.
You find a guy that knows where she is. He says he'll go get her and bring her to you. And the cops pass you as you're talking to him and they have to know what's up. What's someone like you doing in this part of town? So the 10 minute wait for her to come back to you accompanied by the guy who could give two shits about you as long as you bring him money seems like an eternity. Maybe he'll run off with her and your money. Maybe she wont be looking so hot today, maybe she won't be herself. Maybe he'll come back with a woman you don't know and don't want to meet but now your money is gone and you're broke and sick and a good few hours away before you can get some more money and the world might as well be over in your opinion. But your girlfriend comes back, he brings her, and she gives you a kiss on the cheek.
Then you go home, to your mattress and your overdue rent and the lack of food and the piled up bills and the same clothes you've been wearing for three days and your parents that have called but you never answer and your friends that invite you out but you never go, but you're home and she's there with you. Eventually you go to bed.
But she's never there the next morning, and you know she won't be, and you wish someone invented a way to pause time, or go back in time, to that first time you met her, the first couple months when you guys hung out, before she made you sell everything to be with her, but you can't and you're fucked. And you know it. I'm not going to romanticize it, that won't do you or me or anyone reading any good.
cl has internist appt at Northstate clinic 5/23 at 3:00. try to Make map, give to cl, tech won't allow, try workarounds, nada. shit. Finally printed map, this took like an hour. by teleporting to HAP'uter, pasting map into blog, doing a printscreenscreen, teleporting back to clinic 'puter, & printing out map in Word. Word.
Turns out client is in county jail. [protracted sigh.] conv w analyst, oy vey ist mir. If cl is still incarcerated, I should call Nothstate & let them know. Phone:(415) 469-0508. Additionally, analyst was able to find all the stuff that I’ve been sending her, but it was an effort. Analyst will fax me a new, more general barcode for any future submissions. Chut.
Three people in bluescreen t-shirts at a stadium event, trying to hijack media coverage, thwarted by Google. There was an anti-info-beam deployed. The hijacked message, which was supposed to play on the bluescreens, à la Teletubbies, never got out.
Gayle’s Hat at the Riptide, Derby Day 2013
Bruce & Mary, photo by Cathy Mosbrucker. This one’s for Meg
Mary & Bruce, photo by Richard Hurlburt. For Ramona.
Thanks for taking the pictures, guys. Great job!