[75] Screed City

[75]

01/04/2022 Tuesday. Kitchen Microwave. Beaver Haus. Lower Granville, Vermont.

The tyranny returns. I have sequestered G and Professor Curly into their respective quarters so I can write missives. What can I say? I run a tight ship. I mean, I have also been watching this show about Luey 14 that is very influential. I mean, not really. The show is bunk. It is very stressful though. Every episode is just rife with poisonings and intrigue and nothing good ever happens at Versailles. Aside from sex and more sex. I mean, I think the show is American and I think they are trying to do some sort of period drama. But the actors are kind of junk. And because it is American they all have English accents with a little bit of French thrown in. I can't stop watching it though. It is very frustrating.

I picked G up early this afternoon. We took back roads from Manchester to Rutland. Did some shopping at Michael's. Black paper, white paint, a paint brush, some white chalk. I am going to do a mock up for the Dishwasher cover. The advertisement shirts arrived. Professor Curly asked if the thing takes place in NYC, because of the shirts. I said no. The Statue of Liberty is supposed to stand for America. American Dishwashers. I mean, it is kind of jump in logic, but still, it looks good. I mean, I wonder if the cover will be confusing to people. But then, so what? I mean, always a book by it's cover, never a bridesmaid. I mean, what is done is done. But still, does not the Statue of Liberty mean more than NYC? I mean, I am fooling myself if I think otherwise, but maybe that is what America needs right now, a book about a dishwasher in Laramie, Wyoming with a confusing cover that makes it seem like it takes place in New York? It doesn't really matter. It really doesn't. Either way, I have 20 t-shirts now. Ready to be shipped to whoever. That say Dishwasher, instead of Dishwashers.

Somehow G's vibes got me a discount at Michael's. I mean, the cashier liked us for some reason. And it wasn't because of what I was bringing to the counter. I mean, it was a $5 dollar savings.

Before we went to Michael's we stopped at the Taco Bell drive through. Ordered 3 soft tacos, three hard, two drinks. $16 dollars. G's vibes didn't save us any money though. And they got embarrassed by me because I was so loud. Such is life for a teenager. Or, I mean anyone really that has to deal with my loud-ass. We ate the tacos in the parking lot. Then we went into Michael's. Then we drove over to the Hannaford's and bought some dinner stuff and hot sauce stuff. Then we drove back to Granville. Over Brandon Gap. I mean, if we are going to live in Vermont I think we should move to Brandon proper. The town is just so damn quaint. I mean, that is, if we can't buy this house. I mean, who knows if buying this house is a good idea, but still, we know it pretty good by now. We have been here for one year and three months. Shit! We need to pay rent. Money. Yuck.

I made chicken parmesan for dinner. Kind of. I forgot the parmesan. And we didn't have any mozzarella cheese. I used the melting cheese from Christmas. The chicken turned out great. There was a salad. With avocado and red onions and mushrooms. It was a success. I mean, G ate it. If that is how you gauge success. No dog came. Romeo. The puppy. It just wouldn't work. He is too young and we would have to just hunker down for the next four days doing nothing but taking care of the dog. I mean, the puppy is very cute. It travelled with G and their mom. But as we were driving away G mentioned that the puppy had diahhrea. I mean, that kind of proves my point. And I feel kind of bad to seperate G from their baby dog, but I don't know what else to do about it. We are just not equipped for a baby dog. We wouldn't be able to do anything. I mean, we are planning to go to the Museum of Everyday Things or something tomorrow. In NEK. The NorthEast Kingdom. I mean, I guess we could have brought the baby dog with us, I mean, I guess, but. I mean, I hate that I have to defend this. I mean, I didn't get G a dog for Christmas. That is all I will say about it. It somehow falls into some weird gray area of co-parenting. And, I mean, I am not anti-pet, but I do choose not to have pets for a reason. I mean, even the goats are crossing the line. But those aren't our goats, we are just renting them. And, I mean, I think the big one with the collar has about two days left to live before he becomes burger. Or more like sausage and steak.

I caught a mouse. 57 in total now. It was marshmallow that did it in. I am not sure how many remain in the house. But I am sure there is more than one. The amount of droppings I keep finding tells me that. The problem though is that I don't know exactly where they came from. I have a pretty good idea. From under the dishwasher. Like through the tertiary house. The haunted part. But I don't know if I closed off the entrance entirely. And there is no way to tell. I suppose I could set that game camera up that I got from Home Depot when I applied for a credit card that they denied me. I mean, I knew I would be denied, I just wanted the game camera. And, no offense to my fiction writing abilities, but I am seeing a little bit of Soft Elbows happening here. Art imitates life as the bridesmaids say. That and the Luey 14 thing. I mean, there isn't much going on around these parts. Just waiting for snow so the slopes are worth shredding.

Junior Mint got inspected. Passed with flying colors. JD said:

"I can tell that car wasn't born in Vermont." I was in his office. He wasn't wearing a mask. I was. See, there is something you have to understand about JD, he is a very typical male dude. Like macho. I don't mean that with his not wearing a mask. He is just an idiot when it comes to Covid. But whatever, that place and the Beer Cave are to be avoided at almost all times, that really doesn't concern me anymore. But he is the kind of guy that instigates small talk and then ignores you about it. Like something out of a Cormac McCarthy novel or whatever. Where everything is both meaningful and meaningless at the same time. Which, as a member of Society I find very annoying, but he will say "I can tell that car wasn't born in Vermont." And then pretend that he never said it. Like it is some sort of macho game of chicken. So I said:

"What do you mean? I mean, I bought it in New Hampshire."

"Oh, the rust on the bottom. I can tell it was born in the South or something." His use of the word "Born." I mean, I was surprised he didn't gender the car. I mean, I do that, I understand that I do that. But I call the car Junior Mint because of Don Jr. The Orange Douche's kid. Because that is what Kimberley Goyfoil calls him. And the car is mint colored. Either way. That is my prerogative. And JD can have his own prerogative, but still. Born? Cars are not born. And I think it is telling that he uses that word. I said:

"Oh, yeah? I was thinking of getting the oil undercoating next year, I missed the deadline this year."

"Oh, I wouldn't do that."

"Why not?"

"It's too late, the rust is already in the folds." And then there was a mis-understanding about the receipt and then he just ignored me until I left. I mean, it was a very odd exchange. From a very odd man. In a very odd town in Vermont. I mean, he is almost exactly as annoying as his wife is. I mean, who has a business in a small town in Vermont and just treats his customers like dicks? His wife does it too. I mean, I know he knows me at this point. He had to rifle through my glove box to find old receipts before he did the inspection. All the work that has been done on that car is from him. His business. For the last year and a half. I mean, I think it all so very odd. But whatever. I won't have to go back there until May at the earliest.

$50 bucks it cost me to get Junior Mint inspected. Oddly and in a nice turn of events I received a Christmas card with a check in it from a Secret Dianne that was for $50 dollars. I mean, that is Capitalism at it's finest. Last minute funds that are the exact amount for the funds that you need. I mean, plus, if you don't pay JD cash he charges you $2 dollars to use his credit card machine. So, I mean, in the end, like all good Capitalism transactions the buyer gets screwed just a little bit. Pass the cost onto you. The buyer. What a great system. He can't hide that money from the Government so I have to pay an extra $2 dollars. A tax on a tax. I mean, that is what I get for owning a car.

G is going to stick around until Saturday. Five days I guess. I mean, we have six Sequestered videos left to do before the project is finished. The last one is going to be a recreation of the first one. So that means we have five new ones to make between now and Saturday. I mean, I think on Friday we are going to go meet Grit at school and do one there. Maybe we can set it up where she comes out of school and joins a recording in progress or something. That or maybe we can go up to Sugar Bush on Thursday and do a ski one. Her school is planning a field trip. I think Professor Curly will maybe go and get involved in that if she can get out of work. They give you a free pass if you come help the pip-squeeks ski. I mean, maybe the New Landlord will be there. He works as a Lift Jockey during the ski season. In exchange for free passes. And supposedly Sugar Bush is top notch skiing. I wouldn't know. However, the snow shoe boots came. I need to try them on tomorrow. I mean, I was doing so good on reducing the lb's. But then work stopped and I am back to being Chunko. I mean, the one thing about dieting and body maintenance is schedule. Diligence in your discipline. I mean, with work you can just ignore breakfast. Only eat lunch. Work the rest of the day and have a small dinner or whatever. When you are standing around doing computer work or making Donkeys or whatever, I mean, you kind of lose that break-up in your day. I mean, you need to eat, that is for sure, but if you just eat when you are hungry, it kind of backfires. And especially if you don't really do anything. I mean, being middle-aged and all. But the snow shoes could help. Something tells me it is going to take a lot of work to get used to wearing them. And then what? I guess I walk up the road to the trail to Texas Falls and walk like 12 miles? I mean, I am not against it. It just seems like such a future goal. I mean, Professor Curly keeps calling them Horse Shoes. And she isn't wrong. I mean, much like playing horseshoes it is kind of long shot, full of luck that I will succeed. And I welcome the challenge. But it is a funny thing to start new hobbies. Even if they are good for you. I mean, at least with the hot sauce you get a tasty reward. Who knows what kind of mayhem I am unleashing with the Horse Shoes. Maybe I will become one of those outdoorsman types that litter this country-side. I mean, there is a whole bunch of nothing but time hanging out around here. I mean, back in the City I would just walk around all day. Really working the brainwaves. Thinking up dumb shit for these two detectives I like to write about to do. Up here, it is different. It is just moving from one place of comfort to the next. Followed by worry about the weather and shit you didn't do in the Fall that you meant to do. Followed by trying to get back down to the City to be part of Society again. I mean, I don't know. They say that Omicron is going to do it for us. The Great Big Forest Fire that will clear all the underbrush out. To allow for new growth. I mean, Nino says that he is surprised that me and Professor Curly haven't gotten it yet. I mean, he is in the know. And if he says that, I mean, I guess I should just brace for impact. WE should brace for impact. And just pray that we don't get Long-Covid or whatever. I mean, America is very much on fire right now. But the deaths are staying the exact same. Which, to me, just means that the vaccines are working and the idiot Republicans are going to have a reckoning that they stupidly brought upon themselves. I mean, how else are we supposed to interpret this new data? I mean, they started this stupid political game, it would only make sense to me that they are the ones that have to pay for it.

G has the week off because of Covid. Then they have to be remote next week. Then they are back in school on the 17th or whatever. All of which could have easily been avoided except for "Freedems" and the Fuddrucker Rebellion. Protest Envy. I mean, pushback is understandable. I don't think anyone ever should just go along with any Government, ever. But for it to become a Political Movement to just be contrary to Science? Where "Research" just means going onto your computer and typing "Covid Lies" into the search bar and see what comes up. And it is just 12 newly minted millionaires selling multivitamins. I mean, I am devoutly anti-establishment but this is just so very stupid that I am officially allergic to the news. To the internet. To the world as it exists right now. And I mean, I am not even burned-out. I mean, I feel like I am more focused than ever, but it kind of feels like that scene from Melancholia where they all celebrate because the comet is going the opposite direction and then they realize that isn't true and they are indeed all fucked. I mean, the first 20 minutes of that movie are useless. If I had my druthers I would cut that from the film. But the rest of it is pretty good. I mean, you get to a point where all the bad shit that seems to be happening is just noise and when you get the littlest reprieve from it it feels like good news. But then it suddenly turns around and comes directly right back at you again. I mean, if you could sum up my entire philosophy it is this:

WE ALL JUST NEED TO WORK TOGETHER

But guess who gets laughed out of the room whenever I say that shit? I mean, I can't catch a break. Against all odds. I mean, it is really very simple. But then all the micro-aggressions that add up. The JD's of the world saying "That car must have been born..." I mean, I don't think we were meant to be inundated in the morass of bullshit for such a long amount of time as we are. Yet here we are. What once was simple is now complex. Not because it actually is complex, but because we decided to make it complex. And for some reason we think the solution is more inundation. I mean, I don't even know. I know that there has been a shift that happened. The few idiots on the Right that understand that they have gone too far. I mean, the people in the middle that don't know which way to go. And the people on the Left that are trying to get everyone out of the burning building. I mean, to me it looks like this:

The Right has lit the building on fire and are throwing Molotov Cocktails onto the flames. The reasonable people on the Right are dropping the gas cans and trying to get their people to calm down. The people in the middle don't know what to do so they are carrying gas to the Right but also running back to get buckets of water or sand. The people on the Left are screaming "Come over here! The building is collapsing! This is the way out!" I mean, maybe I am wrong. Maybe we need to run over to the fire and start throwing gas on fire. I mean, I am just joking. I do believe if we work together we can save ourselves, but still. There is no middle ground. There is no way in hell that Conservative Talking Points "Fiscal Responsibility," "BootStraps," "Personal Accountability," that lead to nothing is somehow going to slake the flames. The only way that would work is if we get a Godzilla to come use his giant foot to stomp out the fire. And that scares me because that is what I think the Radical Right want. A giant Orange Godzilla to come solve ALL of the problems for them. And it won't solve shit. It will just spread the flames to other buildings that will then set the entire city on fire. And that will only make them want more Godzillas.

I mean, whatever. I need to go. I have a thing to watch. Get up early to do some driving. Make some waffles for breakfast and such. Sausages. The amount of maple syrup we have is running low. March is a long way off, but also very soon. We need to cut some firewood. It's time. Firewood and money. That is what we need right now. Everything else can wait.