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- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Miscellany
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That's it, that's all. The US is done. We need a wall.
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- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Miscellany
- Hits: 1104
There are easily a dozen of these stories a day.
https://www.wired.com/story/japan-is-racing-to-test-a-drug-to-treat-covid-19
They should lobby for a meeting with Trump: https://www.msn.com/en-us/news/politics/major-producer-of-hydroxychloroquine-once-paid-michael-cohen-hefty-sum-for-access-to-trump/ar-BB12eeHz && https://lawandcrime.com/covid-19-pandemic/major-producer-of-hydroxychloroquine-once-paid-michael-cohen-hefty-sum-for-access-to-trump/
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- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Miscellany
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A quick trip with the daughter, arrive a bit early and poke around downtown, the city has grown around places I remember, or, in that other trick of time and memory, I find places I remember in unfamiliar settings, the daughter notes what a change in character and culture the city has compared to Calgary, and it's true. The city has a culture - Calgary, well, not so much. Calgary's the rich brother that didn't need manners or education or character because - hey - it had money.
Now who's laughing?
Walk past the Bistro, the old building that used to house it, now a shell that conceals the bottom few floors of a skyscraper, see other familiar old buildings revitalized, Churchill Square with it's library and concert hall, the McDonald Hotel now opened (it was closed almost the entire time I lived there), despite the large marginal contingent clearly visible on the street it's physically a much more vibrant city than when I last lived here. There's perfectly interesting and dirty streets, cafes, filled with people, a very different cultural climate than Calgary, even the daughter observes, it's been too long since I've visited, I need to spend a few days here and rediscover old haunts (those that still exist), need to come back and take a few days and rediscover it, who knows who I'll run into?
The "Wee Book Inn" - they tried Calgary, lasted a year - maybe - then folded. People in Calgary don't read books, not good books at least, I pop in and admire their selection. Nothing I need - but if you read books, know books - compare their selection - in a relatively tiny shop - with the same selection in a warehouse that represents Calgary's tastes - you'd understand.
We lunch at Bistro - they've done a fine job of rebuilding, relocating, the perfect blend of familiarity and renovation, the food, double and quadrupled in price, not expensive - but, again, the curse of memory, of ninety-five cent open faced sandwiches, those days are gone. I should have fattened up.
Nostalgia. Don't know if I'm a fan, but the sand is running through the glass, and - as I'm noticing - you never dip your toe in the same river twice.
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- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Miscellany
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This made me laugh:
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Of course there was an internet uproar, and Ryan Reynolds was quick to pounce...
{embed:youtube:H2t7lknrK28}
This made me laugh harder. He just saved her career.
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- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Miscellany
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My assessment still stands, although I was a little early in the execution.
Waiting, seeing the daughter, deadly hungover from the night before, having prematurely celebrated my victory a little too thoroughly...
Explaining my theory, swearing her to silence - no one shall know of this, NO-ONE! YOU UNDERSTAND!! NO ONE! WE'RE GOING TO BE RICH!!! RICH!!!! RICH!!!!
We weren't going to be rich, it was going to be a lot of boring work that would be entirely undercut if they knew what we were up to...
I explain it. She's doubtful. I prove it to her with spreadsheets and numbers and reassure her that - despite all evidence to the contrary - her Pa's a genius...
Head on down, take your place at the table, make your bets.
...it goes. This is the long boring part...
She speaks up - "Why not try #32?"
I ignore her. "Because it's not on the list...."
The croupier calls out..."#32..."
I look at her. She punches me.
A few more spins, again - "#29" she tells me, then changes her mind when I pile the chips. Chips off the table, the croupier calls it:
"#29"
This is getting to be a bit much. She refuses to assist me any longer, my precog-daughter, 7th daughter of a witch for sure, and my theory, it evaporates with my pile of chips on the table.
Running the numbers back at home, trying to figure out what went wrong...I should have fucked my theory and went with the daughter's guts.