Floods In Texas

 It's like the song says, it's flooding down in Texas. We have below average temps this week and persistent rain chances, and we've already had a good rain and we could have another, but we are right on the edge of the area, a large one, that could experience flooding. All of that is south of us. I can't believe that the World Cup crap is still going on, as well as that other thing, that abominable clusterfuck "over there". When the petroleum reserves are depleted, and they will be, soon, then the shit really hits the fan. The pathetic delusional halfwit stumbles on and on, fucking this up, fucking that up, fucking up all that it touches, and still the morons cheer-- I suppose. Rumors suggest that at least some of them are waking up and smelling the shitstorm. The true shitstorm will soon be upon us, I suspect. And none of this was necessary. The rationale was an invention, a lie, a complete and total LIE. A foul and filthy LIE. 

Yes Indeed

 Excellent rain yesterday. A very moderate week ahead with some very good chances for additional rain. Hot again by the weekend though.

I remain in my journal for 1989. Fascinating. 

Cause For Celebration!

 Temps back off their highs today and next week is looking pretty good. Some cool mornings are coming our way. What's not to like about that?

Some people might want to at least TRY to think about whatever the hell they thought they were celebrating this past July, and see how much of it actually made a lick of sense, how much of it was real, as opposed to flag-waving fantasy. And lies. 

In November

 In November I'll mark the 9th anniversary of my wife's death and our 14th wedding anniversary. Grief counseling was worthless. A lot of blather about "moving on" and "new life" and "new horizons".  I have a new life by default. It's bearable and what I have to live for isn't human. Humane but not human. I seem to be always on the edge of an emotional breakdown. The loss is enduring and incurable. There is no recovery. I think sometimes that I have PTSD, due to the circumstances surrounding my wife's death. Some images are burned into my brain. All of the usual formulas and mantras people recite in order to cope are drivel. Worthless. Time doesn't heal. What I really want is what I lost. I will always find the past preferable to the present. The less said about the future the better. 

Today we start to get the benefit of a little heat relief and tomorrow it will be more noticeable. And rain chances improve quite a lot. I was productive yesterday. I'm still able to maintain the status quo. Change is unavoidable, of course, but I fight to resist and I refuse to accept. Each and every day I curse the world and the way of the world-- I damn what is. I call it an abomination. For me, that's therapy. Makes me feel better. I know where I stand. I hold my ground. 

NOT Over!

 Of course, I refer to the World Cup nonsense. I guess the wannabe jocks, worthless for the most part and as athletic as a bucket of lard, like watching stuff like that, in the sports bars and at home, sitting for hours and only rising up occasionally for another beer, more snacks, and to pee and shit. That's about as athletic as it gets for the average American. Soft. Very soft. But watching sports on TV makes them feel "manly". Talking about sports makes them feel "manly". But real exercise? Pumping iron? Running? Working up a sweat? Feeling the burn? Probably not. 

But that's really none of my business. I attend to my business and you attend to yours and never the twain shall meet. I have no use for couch potatoes. I have no use for drunks. I have no use for the self-indulgent and undisciplined. And so it goes. 

And it's not over yet. Something tells me that there will be a shock in the near future. It hasn't gotten real yet, but I suspect that it will.