God said, in Latin, broadcast live from above Satan’s lair, situated, precisely and according to worldwide big brother goo goo radio Gaga – it’s gonna save your life but it’s gonna hurt – the amount of space occupied by a three-dimensional object as measured in units (such as quarts or liters) or capacity, or the ability to receive or contain the maximum amount or number that can be received– God said absolutely nothing.
In 1977, the serial murderer Ted Bundy is escorted out of court at the Pitkin County Courthouse, having just been captured after six days on the run when he escaped the same courthouse. The Post Independent recently had its long-sealed safe opened by a locksmith, revealing numerous old photo negatives, including this one.
A long sealed safe not opened by a locksmith is the beginning of our story. Come along.
Join the Einstein of another potboiler set – ahem – did you catch luke Skywalker cameeoh-in on criminal minds? Mark Gordon?
If I had to pick my moments today it would be Rhianna and Eminem’s love hate ballad as I considered how it made me feel – especially after alice in chains, rooster – and they say Americans are soft?
The Frith is here and he wants to know why you are here
And suddenly pushing buttons
Truly Frédéric you do not scare me.
mother courage, Godot, Doug Kenny – none compete with Kubrick Stephen King MA Jong and that sorcerer we pretended not to see.
The vastness of the pacific a place many just underestimate – thank you pacific especially the Hawaiian Islands for letting me live. Embracing me actually. But I loved you and was a gifted steers person – we’re talking rain man status.
￼ your brain is still a bit more about this one and only the most important thing in my opinion is that it was good singing
(that was artificial intelligence interpretation of my predictive poetic lyrics cat fight on the fridge)
Burnout has been recognized as an official disorder by the World Health Organization. It affects your ability to work [and] your emotions about work.
If that’s the case, I’m entering a period of remission.
Hear me purr.
I’m fragile – don’t let the faint bravado fool you. Scared shitless as they say. A bit apprehensive and a tad overwhelmed to Queen Elizabeth with a spot of tea. I still am horribly polite.
Loaded biased toward a particular outcome, bearing a load, especially a large one
Or the fourth studio album by American rock band the Velvet Underground, released in November 1970 by Atlantic
Who loves the sun?
Who loves the sun?
Burdens like a loaded
What gifts would you like to develop
What gifts would you like to develop
an NBA team has never gone an entire quarter without scoring a point.
Take Note of Your Body Language
Ask for company turnover [data] and turnover [data] for that individual manager.
Or this chick:
Raise your hands if you know this next monster!
Don’t let those flannel shirts fool you, this guy can walk into any boardroom with the same aplomb he chops some wood at his cabin in Maine before cooking fresh trout for breakfast. Dave, Jai, Jym, Jin or Jamee – all the same. Great guys until they’re not.
Warning signs –
- stress level telegraphed to everyone in the department- you know the kind, blames you for solutions, misses the dysfunction when it’s gone oft n refered to as drama junkies.
Um no thank you.
incredulous at sanity
He returned to Oslo. Killed 77 people while they wept.
You have to tune it out or else go insane, she said, Mona of Numbers and manners from letters.
She sighed. She was not a profiteering overseer and yet she gained innumerable margin from the inevitable failing called death, the suffering of the many at the hands of the few and the way poverty and exploitation of wealth can predict up to a point the ability to express a capacity for love, supporting another being – acknowledging the miracle that is life – this was a given.
She woke up in hell – the job interview.
Job and job
Suffering without uttering one complaint
What most people don’t understand is bench players do influence the outcome of the game greatly
Here we are
The Infinite Game
Today is my 54th birthday. On this day, a Friday in 1965, my mother gave birth to me, the records say, at the Cleveland Clinic in the holy hour (3-4 a.m.).
She was 16, my birth father, 17.
From what I could tell from the “non-identifying” information I was charged $50 for when I was 23,
Seemingly, I had more in common with my father. Height, basketball, class president, a penchant for trains. My mother, who sacrificed a semester to deal with me, was fond of camping and played a musical instrument.
The Children Services letterhead, since the Red Feather agency (I think that was the name) had long since disbanded adding yet another level of erasure to my already amorphous existential origin- the letterhead and contents of this letter are all I have of my heritage, my genealogy, my DNA. Who you would say I am.
Always watched but never seen
Records of our days, cataloged with no sentiment allowed to obscure the meta data (subjective conjecture need not apply) dot the landscape, forming an infinite grid of mortality.
Mortal implies limits, so an infinite grid of solely self-aware beings, our qualia, in particular, not involving anyone or anything else, carries each individual’s uniqueness, believing we are the onliest as our way of coping with the fact that as far as we know, this existence is finite.
I tell you bout the onliest man I knowed come from Virginia.
Self-awareness consciously knows and understands character, feelings, motives, and desires.
feelings, motives, and desires.
There are two broad categories of self-awareness: internal self-awareness and external self-awareness.
External self v Internal self
These mean very different things to you and me.
You see, by our society’s standards, I have no reference for the internal kind. Everything I got I learned without the leg up of familiar tradition, unspoken understanding and qualifying acceptance. In a way, I’ve always had to prove I am not a mistake even though clearly that is all I amounted to in the end, a foolish mistake for my mother to regret.
For some adoptees, particularly those who’ve experienced early childhood trauma such as neglect or abuse, it may be difficult to form emotional bonds. Some studies suggest that adoptees may also be at higher risk for depression, anxiety, learning disabilities, attention deficit hyperactivity disorder (ADHD), or substance abuse.
This started as a very different piece but between the narcissist showing me his drawing without caring about my writing kind of interrupted the flow.
The fact that I can’t really ever relax or do something mildly extravagant because I can never seem to get ahead, I’m terrible at getting reimbursed and in general, there are a million things I want to do, see, hear, and learn and chasing down the ability to just survive (it’s been that way for 20 years in the film and television industry) isn’t really my thing-the fact that I can’t really celebrate isn’t where I had hoped to be by now.
I’m tired. Tired of this particular existence that, the longer I live, seems more and more futile. Everything we were told was either a lie or a myth and now I’m in no position to take on the world as I once was, having been severely beaten, tortured and most recrntly mugged and stabbed in the past three years.
That’s not even the half of it. That’s not even what makes me sad. It’s the lack of friends I find myself enduring these days. The sadness just never goes away.
Please be creative with your titles: smart, short and eye-catching.
The St. of Discipline.
He had settled on the most magnificent piece of property on the far flung coast, years after starving had given way to dilettante displays of attention propped up by fangirls in their sunned entrances wearing summer dresses.
Using a creative, impactful adjective after “12 Most” can go a long way. Check out the posts on this website for reference and whatever you do, avoid using adjectives that have been overused (ie: common, important, useful…).
Don’t ever change
He gasped holding his chest breathing pained and desperate now
Until he got out the words —-
Had made quite an impression
on the ex-former-felon
What’re you in for
of dispassionate times
After abandoning “Don’t waste your time,” I still needed a receptacle for the ongoing churn of real time, actual human assessment of the tools of our digital trade.
I’m an unofficial tester of all things related to aortic writings of a familiar lean. I’ve tried most interfaces and delved into a multitude of platforms. I stopped short of learning how to code (for dummies, et al) because I am too old.
The notion that I would fill up that brain storage space with a language designed to communicate with a machine that is supposed to evolve with me in the time space continuum just isn’t as interesting as discovering the one hundred she eleven languages officially considered “lost” since only one speaker of its native tongue remains.
Rastro philio pustrocity
Rastrophiliopustrocity was hard to come by these days, but she prevailed.
These dialects of our tribal languages are inextricably woven into the human (auto corrects to kung-fu, btw🤔) ability to commiserate, collaborate, communicate and concentrate on the meaning of words between like-minded folk.
Those spoken and written lexicons adapted with us over time.
Lena L. Leon
So then, what could’ve been the very first word to ever be spoken?
I have three theories.
Cuidado! a warning to your child that the wooly mammoth behind them is a threat to humankind’s existence.
I love you. The word love needed to be made one day.
Either in caveman prayer or attached as namesake for that particularly desperate invocation, of mythological proportions, why have you forsaken me which must be addressed to some “one.”
We needed an anchor, preferably guttural, perhaps elliptic, but definitely a one syllable word for that guy.
We had to assign forever a gut–wrenching association to some supposed creator (would the word for God be different had we known we were worshipping atoms as Adam?).
The poet never knows.
For the record
June 27, Two-thousand nineteen
Review of “mailbuzzr”
The possibility for greatness exists: fast, ability to maintain semblance of control over mailbox folders, loads ginormous amounts of unread emails without crashing like other apps. But no snooze option? Can’t customize the swipe actions? All I want is a better version of mailstrom where I can delete multiple emails sent by the same robot and actually check emails I want to respond to (mailstrom aka chuck in mobile platform – talk about weird branding) is good for mass deletion that’s it. So I tried buzzr for a second time since their app popped up as the bee’s knees. All I can say about it is the aesthetic is working for me, it loads fast and the notification sounds are rad. Other than that, there is nothing to set it apart from spark or Edison’s email (which has some terrific features but crashes too much) app which has added features to save you money based on your e-commerce records (without being cumbersome).
No ability to add email addresses beyond outlook or Gmail is limiting as well since I still maintain an old yahoo account due to the personal and professional accounts associated with it. Not being able to do that means mailbuzzr cannot be the sole email app needed to manage an inbox behemoth.
No, no, let me guess?!
What? (*mouth full)
Let me guess what you’re going to say next!
I would let you
predict, manipulate, disclose the expression of anywhere from 12,000 to 60,000 thoughts per day…
Yeah coz you only have
which IS NOTHING!
An irrevocable negative bias
Recused 10:14 a.m. on a cool, overcast June gloom morning, the fifteenth if June two thousand and nineteen.
From ancient sciences to today’s modern scientists have come across a term known as negative bias.
Egotists never seek to help anyone, regardless of their circumstances.