A Friendly Chat

I think I'm going to call her Beebee (but I haven't decided how to spell it). She is like at least two bees.

Ambien and Absinthe theatre presents:

The mystery of the Wasabi pees.

I have a small plastic container of wasabi pees that I like to snack on.  The container is sort of like a small tupperware container, meaning it's water proof.  This information will become important in a moment.

A very busy day for me doing <REDACTED> at work.  Quite stressful.  Fortunately I have remedies for such things.  Alcohol, Ambien and video games.  But there was very little time to eat.  Which means the effects of the evening cocktail can be... unpredictable.  I recall beginning to play Xcom2 and that's it.

Fast forward to the next morning.  I awake sleeping on the floor of my office to see an odd sight, the container of wasabi pees is soaked with some kind of liquid.  One would think that this would be easy to determine but it is not.  The dye in the wasabi turned the water green.  The smell of the wasabi masked any possible clues there.  If I were very curious I could taste it but I suspect the wasabi would again wipe out any other taste.

My top theories.

1.  I poured a beer into it.  I don't know what my motivation would be.

2.  It's water.  Possible.  Maybe I was cleaning it but I was too stupid at the time to realize there was still perfectly good food in it.

3.  This one "feels" like it's the most likely.  At some time in the night, I was too busy to walk an extra 5 feet to the bathroom and I peed into the Wasabi pees.

But we may never know.

I too am a fan of Wasabi peas, so much so that I am pretty sure that my subconscious would veto urination into them. A quick interweb check on the side effects of Ambien reveals a propensity for sleep walking, talking, and eating, maybe the pot and the dried nature of the contents triggered a pot-noodle response that was never fully realized.

You have to lick it to find out. There is no other way to settle this and it must be settled. For science.

Many years ago, we inherited a huge gothic arts and crafts dark wood dressing table from my grandmother with a triptych of heavy mirrors mounted on crenellated towers sporting turned spires and little drawers.
Looking at it closely it was made not by a master craftsman, but more of a spirited amateur but it suited my spouse’s goth heart, the bedrooms iron candle style chandelier, wall manacles and metal bed so it stayed.

The years however had begun to show, cracks, chips and scuffs, broken handles, gaps in some of the drawers, all these things had eroded its appeal, I suggested we upcycled it, so I dismantled it rubbed it down, painted it satin black and put new silver handles and knobs on it and carried it all back upstairs.

Here’s the thing, none of the drawers fitted. I know what you are thinking you judgmental bastards but the carcass ‘s where the drawers go were sound and I didn’t touch them and only three of the drawers needed work, but now none of them fitted, not tight with paint, they don’t go in the holes.

This revelation coincided with me asking where the fittings I had taken off, including mirror hinges with butterfly tightening screws the like of which I had never seen, that I had put on the marble hearth, were. To be told they had been tidied, my loved one’s euphemism for thrown away where we both go through a pointless ritualised search both knowing her borderline OCD has overridden sense and she’s lobbed them in the bin, which had been collected that morning.

For sanity’s sake I made a cup of tea and sat in the garden to ponder things, not my crazy partners thought process, this I know to be beyond me, but the non-fitting drawers.

There is only one feasible reason I can come up with.

Sometime betwixt the dismantling and attempted reconstruction, the universe had transitioned from expansion to contraction, and this has been only partially grasped at this early stage by its constituents, the drawers and carcass now being in different phase states.
Hopefully in the time it will take me to find replacement mirror hinges, possibly ones of a type that have not been made for over 100yrs, they will synchronise and I won’t have to set about them with my plane, time, which is probably now in reverse, will tell. 

I believe your dressing table is demanding that you upgrade it to nice shiny new self closing ball bearing drawer slides.

While it is out of character for gothic furniture, a smooth closing drawer creates joy in the hearts of everyone.

I believe your dressing table is demanding that you upgrade it to nice shiny new self closing ball bearing drawer slides.

While it is out of character for gothic furniture, a smooth closing drawer creates joy in the hearts of everyone.

I commend Jura for his upcycling efforts. The planet needs more people like him. I personally would have hired a skip bin and be done with it 

I believe your dressing table is demanding that you upgrade it to nice shiny new self closing ball bearing drawer slides.

While it is out of character for gothic furniture, a smooth closing drawer creates joy in the hearts of everyone.

You peasant!
No. my flabber is gasted, this is strictly wood on wood (that’s bound to attract an Aussie) with just a smidgen of linseed oil to avoid jamming, you’ll have me putting drawer stops on and treating the woodworm next.   

Another thought occurred as to the unexplained refit problem, it could be some sort of demon puzzle, that the drawers can only be returned to the carcass in a particular sequence, maybe even at specific phase of the moon otherwise not only will it refuse to be reassembled but an evil djinn will be unleashed, then again I might have overdone the coffee intake today.

There is a special place so very near, incorporating Malazan, Spanish Harlem, Heaven, and Hell, just head for the second star to the right and straight on til’ morning to find places far further than the voyagers have travelled, and James Webb has glimpsed.

It is our greatest asset our downfall and redemption.

A place of love, adventure, exploration, galaxy spanning empires, fantastic beasts, beauty, horror and because we are human, war and devastation.
It raises us from the dust, gives hope to some, a vision of distant horizons of how it could be. For others it becomes a cage, beyond wisdom it speaks in tongues, turns us away from others setting lies on lips that were never spoken until twisting in on themselves they spiral down into a private genie bottle of fear and suspicion.

Shunned by some as a childish thing we put away, it still whispers, what if? It is the place we become heroes in our own story.

Such a place was dreamed by the Boy-star, true to his nature it was a paradox, a dread place of salvation occupied by monsters and paladins, fought over by shifting alliances of the damaged and needy it yet produced camaraderie, comedy, and meltdowns.
It was a fine place, and I will miss it.

Indeed.  In my heart, I too am pouring a 40 for my dead penguin homies.

Perhaps one day its glory shall be restored in one form or another.

Ethics question;

If I have a nightmare about a problem at work is it okay to charge time for that?

Send them a detailed description of your nightmare, and charge them for pain and suffering.

The problem being, if you are paid for something, they have rights over it, do you want your firm to have control in any way of your dreamtime?

One of Beebee's baby fangs fell out yesterday. I've got my fingers crossed the rest of them fall out in the next few days. I swear this dog has the sharpest baby teeth of any puppy EVER. Not even my brother's pitbull will play with her anymore.

You mean Ratbag?

YES. I should have named her that, she is evil.

North Wales, through the Celtic lands, coloured and dressed by the mists and golds of Autumn, up through the passes and mountains of the Cwm Idwal nature reserve under the watchful shadow of Kite and buzzard, the Ordovician sea bed landscape twisted, raised and gouged by glaciers, walked by stone age hunters, weapons tipped with honed quartz, followed in turn by Charles Darwin and not least of all Jura, silver haired warrior poet of clan Glenlivet, spirit renewed by storm and mountain air.

Why does Beebee hate getting a bath so much? WHY DOES SHE LOOK AT ME LIKE SHE WILL MURDER ME IN MY SLEEP?

I would never look at you like I would murder you in your sleep!

Hey cool, that dog looks like a tiny but playable version of a freisian cow

Neat!

Do any of you nerds collect coins?

For parking meters.

I do not remember the last time I used a parking meter!

Anyway, my mom watched a youtube about pennies and was searching through her pennies, so I brought her the jars of pennies my grandma kept so she could go through them. We both got excited when we found several 2009 pennies, which are rarer than others, and then we got really excited when we found a 2009 "professional life" penny minted in Denver... BUT upon further research I think it might only be worth a couple dollars and not SIX THOUSAND DOLLARS. lol

That's still significantly more than penny.

OMG hi Ski!

OMG hi Ski!

How has space herding been treating you?

I trust you've been taking care of things here.

It's so good to see you here again. My life's been alright, just got over covid again, but other than that about the same. How have you been?

I keep waking up on this side of the dirt, so I suppose I have no real reason to complain (not that it stops me).

I expected I'd see more about the Chinese satellite malfunction, but I suppose not. Just a quick browse reminded me of how insufferable the globularists can be.  I don't have the time and energy to engage in all the global ridiculousness of late.

Took the kids back east (well, north of you) for a funeral and to see the small town much of the family came from. Really made me miss that place and the family, though I've never lived there myself. Maybe I'll buy a little farm in the boonies, and we'll be state neighbours. 

SKI!!!!

This can be the theme song for the move.