It’s only noon and I’m already tuckered out. I don’t know why. Arthritis? Too much nooze? Erratic weather? Or some combination of the above?
How do I shake it off? The sun is out today. Maybe I should go outside, have a cigar, and enjoy a harmless book that won’t make me wonder if the author’s crazy. Maybe if I do that I’ll have the oomph needed to get back to work.
Well, I’m sitting here and the clock’s ticking… Out, I say! Out!
Having done this for several thousand days in a row, I think I’m starting to get nooze fatigue. Gradually the plethora of absurd, creepy, outrageous, mush-headed stories merge into one. And it’s a story I’ve already covered dozens of times. Where the devil is the exit?
I mean, what’s there to write about that I haven’t already written? Transgender mania. Governed by people who hate us. Race-hustling in the public schools. Killing the culture. I keep telling myself, “People need to know our country is being taken over by villains, thieves, lunatics, and scam artists. We need to know what we’re up against, so we can put a stop to it.” That’s why I’m trying to do this work today. Paul Revere on Geritol.
And how am I going to finish my book, Ozias, Prince in Peril? It’s getting colder every day. We had frost last night.
I’ll just keep trying.
Please pardon the lurid headline. I couldn’t resist it.
Thursday was bad and Friday was worse–one damn thing after another, all day long. By suppertime Patty and I were blitzed.
We need to relax this weekend; and a thing we both find relaxing is old-fashioned black-and-white horror movies. Patty nominated Carnival of Souls. And y’know what? That movie’s just the ticket. The set alone–a deserted boardwalk/carnival out in the middle of nowhere–is worth your time. I wonder what it would really be like to walk there, all alone. Ooooh! Scary, boys and girls!
Again I’ve reached the point where the nooze starts to look like it’s all the same story, and not one that you’d want to hear. Work hard, pray harder, sing louder. It’ll take God’s grace to get us out of this. I won’t ease up on the prayers until I see a lot of prominent Democrats taking off for countries with which we don’t have extradition treaties.
Hello out there! What are some of your favorite fright flicks? Maybe we’ll watch one of them.
Do you mind, out there, if I don’t do any nooze today? Really, the stories are flowing into the “I Don’t Want to Believe It!” zone.
As an alternative, I offer this boy and his pogo stick, showing off his ability to hop up and down a sidewalk and the front porch step. Kid, when I had a pogo stick, I went up and down whole flights of stairs–and if my mother could’ve seen it, she would’ve had conniptions.
I wonder if I could do that today. I could change my name to “Bustyer Kiester.” I dunno: things you did as a matter of course at 12 years old seem downright suicidal 60 years later.
But I think we should all have pogo sticks. It’d help us keep our sanity.
I have to do things to keep my sanity. One of those things is to refrain from writing up the nooze on weekends. Not that I can avoid the nooze–who can? But I can draw the line at writing it.
There’s stuff going on out there–produced on purpose, by various people–that’s nothing but a one-way ticket to Hell. A lot of the villains are inordinately rich and powerful, and can’t be stopped by ordinary means.
Oops. See that? Drifting into the nooze while trying not to. That’s how insidious it is.
We can always pray the Lord to fight for us. We can put our trust in the Judge of all the earth to protect the right. In fact, never mind “can.” We have to.
The pot will keep on boiling over the weekend whether we watch it or not. It will still be there on Monday.
Plenty of time to get our hands burned then.
![PHOTOS] This wildlife photographer's love for Quokka has made the animal an Instgaram famous star](https://imgk.timesnownews.com/74666103_2454188944828540_4366738148824794550_n_1574090431__rend_1_1.jpg?tr=w-600)
G’day! Are you noozed out–just can’t stand any more? Byron the Quokka here, with relief–yes, I said relief!
Brought to you by Quokka University and Acme False Facts Inc., we present a new set of guaranteed false facts that will not only take your mind off the nooze, but will also help you to astound your friends with all the stuff you know but they don’t. Just remember to recite your false fact with absolute confidence! And practice a withering glance of pity that’ll make anyone who questions you feel ignorant.
Without further ado, here are some samples from our newest set.
*In 1880 a man who claimed to have visited the Moon was given a ticker-tape parade by the town of Bent Spoon, Indiana. At the conclusion of the parade, they hanged him.
*A recent poll shows that 41% of the people descended from Osric Witling never heard of him. And neither has anybody else.
*When the musical We’ve Got Chiggers opened on Broadway on March 12, 1951, half the audience went home with real chiggers they’d unknowingly picked up in the theater, resulting in a massive lawsuit that closed the show after only one performance.
*With the seats in the stadium now occupied by cardboard cutouts of fans, Major League Baseball plans to populate the playing field and the dugouts with cardboard cutouts of the players.
*The discovery of the source of the River Nile was delayed for many years by rumors that Queen Victoria had already been there on her honeymoon. But current DNA analyses suggest she didn’t like any of the hotels in the neighborhood.
Well, that should be enough to get you started! Each and every card in the Emergency False Facts Set is guaranteed to be totally devoid of truth–and it can all be yours for a mere $1.28 (US), plus $640 shipping.
Behold “Predator X.” You’ll have a hard time fitting him in your wading pool.
I am supposed to write a Newswithviews column today. I’ve been thrashing my brain for ideas all morning. Politics? Gee, I’m tired of writing politics! What can I say that no one else is saying?
If only I could report to you that Predator X is still alive! Still cruising northern waters, looking for very large things to eat. They call him “X” because all they’re got are little bits of bone, not enough to deserve a proper name. But that only makes him more tantalizing to the imagination.
I don’t have much time left to come up with an idea.
Well, wish me luck. I’ve got to do this somehow.
What’s that ripple in the water over there?
[P.S.–Well, I wrote it, and you’ll see it Thursday.]
I think I’ve covered all the nooze I can this week, and that I’d better stop before I do myself a mischief.
I was outside working on next week’s Newswithviews column when I chanced to look up–just in time to see… uh, Batman!… walking down the sidewalk. Uh-oh. One too many news items: seeing Batman, that’s a sure sign of cracking up.
But there he was–and then I realized there must be a Halloween party going on somewhere in the neighborhood, and I’m probably still sane. Great costume, though. Just about convinced me I was losin’ it.
Time to veg out with a horror movie. Because in the movies, unlike real life, the monster never wins.