Chevy Chase movies. That, and Steve Martin, my two heroes when it comes to the women I like to see in the movies. Should I get rich, I'll stock up on everything they've done to set next to my Benny Hill collection. No, I'm not rich, but nor have I the personality of those who try too hard to get there. I like the old movies I've never seen. JZ, on the other hand, has seen them all. And this morning he refused to go to Cape Kennedy. He's tired of seeing the museums and pretty much all else I have not seen. But he says the new truck is pending (sounds familiar) and we can find another beach. Lack of evidence will never convince JZ the beach is the best place to pick up women.
My records show I meet the same number of women on beaches as anywhere else. I say shallow water and shallow women. Give me an electric bass and a motorcycle. On that subject, I tested the batbike for towing again this morning and I'm going to eventually need heavier shocks on the back of the Honda. That's $400 I'd gladly spend, which is nothing compared to the cost of a new Goldwing or the cheapest of cars. Shown here, the right saddlebag cover flew off on the road, taking both metal buckles with it (see picture). My workout this morning was a two mile hike to go back and fetch it.
Those saddlebags are unique to that year of Honda and unavailable unless I get lucky on eBay. Even then, nobody will sell me just the lid. Mucho thanks to the paving crew along 585 this morning who let me walk along their service road to retrieve the part and especially the loader operator helped me look for it as he waited for his trucks. If you examine the photo closer, you'll see it was a structural failure brought on by age. The buckle segment that attaches to the lid is stripped right away. The strapping is my roadside repair, as I have wrenches and starter fluid under that cap.
What was I doing on the freeway? I don't like freeways. Answer, I was on my way to make the final payment on my cholesterol program. It's kind of pricey but if it works, I can't stand being overweight without ever having had the enjoyment of pigging out for five years. It says here I can't ingest or touch any oil for the duration. Not even suntan lotion on my arms, the motorcyclist's best friend. This could be a rough go.
Real estate. I again found something suitable but declined. They wanted too high a down payment. That's one of many reasons I'll balk. If memory serves, I've explained how just now I've got enough for look for a rent-to-own in the Boca area. Part of what makes the search difficult is that sellers and their agents can be real scumbags with the listings.
Townhouses and condos show up under single family (when there are separate sections for those) or club properties with sucker mandatory equity pricing.
Of course, I'll wait for the right deal. My place is 100% comfortable, I just want something bigger. I'd like a mobile home with the land, well-treed lot, and a work shed. This is Florida. I don't want a monster house with monster neighbors.
England is about to ban porn. Clips like this will be blocked. The limey bastards will do it, too, as being a small island affords enforcement opportunities quite out of the ordinary. Somehow, I'm not so sure if Americans would be keen on the idea of registering at the post office for a peeping license.
What I want to see is how the Brits get around the law. They will, you know. (May I state categorically that I do not view pornography, but if I did, I'd fully admit it without guilt or shame whatsoever. I've had a very active life and don't care to watch relatively old people doing what I did when I was young. What's more, my women had better bodies, no tattoos, and weren't in it for the money. It's easy to tell, ladies.)
ADDENDUM
The curious orange whatz-it from last day. I show these around to let people guess what they are, you know it only takes one dumb idea to strike it rich. Or, at least independently wealthy. Plausible replies were a toothbrush holder or a key hanger. It is for clipping your electrical cords near the outlet, if you have any that you regularly unplug and drop on the floor.
I'm also out of reading material. I've now read every book in my house (around 300 of them) so many times I've memorized some. Nor do I care for the new format of Popular Mechanics, which reads more like a comic book these days. Articles on jocks skateboarding down sand dunes, yep, that's real progress. This month's feature is how the Marines, after twelve years in the desert, are now training to meet what they call a well-armed conventional enemy. Meaning China and Korea.
That's a laugh. One supposes the slopes could launch a missile at us. A lot of good pfc Dodson with his $735 M-16 will be up against that. But as far as any large armies slugging it out, exactly how is that supposed to come about? The world's two largest oceans are a damn good moat. The bad guys simply cannot get here, and if they did they'd blend in as successfully as, well, the Japanese did back in double-you double-you eye-eye. I think a standing army of maybe 25,000 lifers in the USA is plenty. Especially considering the way the police have been militarized. Give 'em a SWAT team and by God, they'll use it in a damn drug raid. On the wrong house.
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