Sit Tight

Finally got my eyeglass order done. Had to find the prescription in the truck. All the junk mail gets thrown on the passenger floor, sometimes with other pertinent paperwork. Waited on a cooling to attack the vehicle. Meanwhile, the primary spectacles are under something in the house. Stepped on the back-up pair. Duct tape to the rescue.

The phone also has gone missing. Could have dropped from pocket. Has happened. If left behind, did the routine back-track. Unfortunately, since it wasn't formatted yet, it doesn't turn up on the search map pinpointing. On the other hand, a bit of a respite from engagement. Have gone incommunicado.

One wonders. If you clear your mind and all is "Fuggettaboutit." what to do? Let things sort themselves out. Tomorrow is sister's birthday. Miss Jiggles (The noive. A goad.) has had warpèd hostility for some time. She stole my armoire and one of the idiots stole my seat upon a break in the action. Football. Too bad we can't commiserate about Kenny Farrell's last visit. Most secret. Some people would rather compete than be friendly. No need for that.

Nothing to be done about it and I wouldn't bet on anyone giving a rat's arse about forgetting.

Had another thought of Francesca. There's a waitress nearby named Tiffany. I told her that she and I would come for breakfast. But I need to go lightly and no way I go off reservation.

Not My Rose

It's another while between posting but, however risky, have been going to Facebook. My own advise was not to use it as a blog but the demic has driven many an assertion. Call it a will to live.

Here and now, would like to thank Taco Bell for a link-up. They say you can thank them later but I need to cut the carbs. A lot.

Stopped into Francesca's old venue. She's moved on. Very dicey finding out her circumstance. Just as difficult as whenever last time was. Married women do not behave like she did, or so I presume. Who knows a loaded concept. Not my business except for her feeling me up. That's right; a touchy-feely utterly on my thigh while minding my own... business as usual... go figure.

She's still local but distant. We'll see. Unlikely any connection.

Merciless

Something of an issue, women wishing to be men. At a coffee place presently that's got a boozy profit center. The bartender has a haircut, a marginal mullet with the part of her head shaved, the hair dyed monkey-shit green. I'd like to go up to her and tell her she looks fierce but awfully officious.

Had brief converse with UofA medical student. Some mention of work experience along with that of Dr, Battalia. Usually exploratory laparotomies and cholecystectomies. He was also at many a ringside.

Jack Battalia Obituary (1921 - 2014) - Portland, OR - The Oregonian (oregonlive.com)

Not too hungry at this time... am reminded of the onion rings at Ringside restaurant on Burnside in Portland. Going past, one makes the turn north onto 23rd Avenue. Distressed at the time, shops to be had for a song. Vintage clothing, bookstores, croissants. Several taverns. A Greek deli. Sandwiches!

The woman! I'd have to take a picture. Ought I ask? Is she the bar manager? There was a problem the other day -- uncooperative juvenile barkeep. My coffee did not get creamed (A cheap trick!) so I asked him for some cream. He said he didn't have any. "How do you make a White Russian?" Punk.

The few words with the medical student went well. Mention of the facility facade on 7th Street. Oh... monkey shit green from P.A. in open heart. Sam. Did two tours in country.

Layered Look

 
Nothing but trouble. Undependable people. Idiots.

Killing time at Luci's waiting on traffic passing at evening commute but I just recalled that it's Labor Day so not to worry. Get back over to West Side and perhaps drop into Dave's place. Such a dive, but familiar. Stop off at home to check the mail? Long weekend, right?

Love this shot and the fashion concept. Maybe in December. 😎

Swifter

Lounging at Lux. They can't get the tunes straight, vulgarians blasting presently. Had a good groove going a while when, all of a sudden, electronic termination.

It sure was abrupt. So I blurted, "Cheryl interruptus." to the ladies. Ugh-oh.

Put some space between. A passing notification. A suggestion. D'uh ubiquitous.

So now there's only planning a get away.

Dead Horse awaits. After Labor Day. Logistics.

Bizzara Java

 A wicked pisser going midtown again. Delicate situation.

Have to go downtown. Business. Follow up property tax exemption.
Take some pictures; get out of there before two in afternoon. 🚨