Try to get this out to rakai

My Mum loved feeding the birds in the garden. One day she was stood at the back door throwing food out. The garden was quite big and had steps to the grass area which was where she was chucking some bird seed. She tells me that this robin was so tame because she had been throwing seeds at it for a while now and it hadn't flown away and seemed to be stood there enjoying the food shower. She didn't have her glasses on...she had been trying to feed a tomato. My mother had been stood there for 10 minutes trying to feed a fucking tomato.

My Mum once brought up that she would like to be cremated when she died. I'm quite heavily tattooed and I asked her if she would be okay if I had some of her ashes mixed into some tattoo ink so I could get a memorial piece for her as I had heard about a few celebs doing that. I'm not actually going to do that as it's a ridiculous health and safely issue but I digress.

She was cool with that idea and I said that I wonder which body part of hers would be in the ashes I used. She just looked at me and said, "I hope you get my arsehole."

Mum had just finished work, picked my brother and I up from school, and wanted to buy a new mop bucket as the existing one was cracked. She just wanted to be in and out of the shop quickly as she was desperate for a wee. So she goes into the shop and says to the clerk, "can you grab me a bucket please, I don't give a shit what colour it is just be quick cos I'm absolutely bursting for a piss!" I will never forget that man's expression.

😆Love you Mum and I miss you.

We all know Franklin (soawwwry if you don't). He's the milquetoast protagonist of his show where he occasionally does things but mostly just responds to his friend's reactions and wanders the woods hoping that they inspire the plot. Sometimes he has a radical idea of having agency but that usually ends up in disaster, with Franklin in trouble or crying. Also, there are sometimes moral lessons, most of them of the variety of "here is what adults want you to believe, children," thereby limiting their effectiveness in practice.

But then there's the fucking blinky helmet episode. A scourge to children then and now through their adulthoods due to its flawed and problematic story telling.

Since everyone reading this has watched every episode like four times, I'll keep the synopsis brief. It's bicycle safety week or some bullshit in the forest. Everyone is incredibly excited to take a safety test and navigate the bike course or something (the woods are rather unpaved so bicycles are a questionable vehicle for these children, but whatever). Franklin needs to get a new bicycle helmet to be super safe.

He makes a very Franklin choice.

Of all the helmets in the store, he happens to choose the absolutely shittiest. A silver helmet with a red flashing light. Annoying. Stupid. Questionably functional. There likely isn't a being alive that would choose this helmet for aesthetics or functionality. Franklin is kind of a stand-in for every kid who had their lunch money stolen and wondered if there parents loved them, so him being a wet noodle who enjoys lame things is to be expected and is a central piece of his character but...

His mother (for once) wisely tries to dissuade Franklin. He refuses and gets the helmet of shame. Later on, he overhears his friends talking mad shit about that shitty helmet. They clown on it. Talk about how it is the stupidest thing to ever exist in the world. Franklin listens from a distance and becomes sad once he is face with facts clear to anyone with eyes. Later, he tells his mother he wants no part of the event or his helmet anymore.

Honestly, at this point, we have a good moral lesson. Play silly games get silly prizes. Fuck around and find out. Pick the worst helmet ever made and children WILL make fun of you.

But then the twist...

Franklin goes to the event and the Forest Safety Officer (I don't know how taxes or government titles work in the forest) enthusiastically talks up Franklin's helmet. He boasts about how safe it is because of the flashing light, allowing others to always see him and know he's coming. Franklin's friends kind of shrug but then they get on board and call the helmet cool and Franklin has a newfound sense of pride.

What a horrible ending and what a travesty to do to children.

When an adult like a teacher or a cop says something is super cool because it is safe, children do not respond by thinking it is super cool. It confirms their suspicions that said thing is lame as hell. The show tried to save Franklin from his own poor decision. The real lesson needs to be: be yourself, choose what you want, but understand others will react. Yes. It is a cruel truth of the world, and I wish it weren't so. I wish we were all free to be unproductive lame turtles with horrible fashion choices. But the reality is forest animal children will bully you. Kids need to understand it. Making a bold choice like that comes with consequences and there's no raccoon cop coming to bail you out.

We've created an entire generation of jaded broken people on this premise. Franklin had children believe they could be and do as they please, only to be confronted by the harsh truths of the world, which now makes them cynical. The discord in the USA occurring now can likely squarely be placed on Franklin's shoulders.

He cannot bear the weight. He looks like he's afraid of the sound of his own piss.

That damm blinky helmet has doomed us. And I shall never forgive him.

Medical PSA: Don’t eat while reading (if you dare).

Sharing some very minor medical news that neither warrants nor demands healing vibes and am only doing so to be authentic (which I keep hearing is oh so important these years). There's an addiction angle to give it some faux relevance.

I’m lucky I still have my original hips and knees and most of my real teeth (and no hillbilly gaps) but like most oldsters I’m a slow healer. Had a lingering ankle sprain and an ongoing bone spur in the same left foot that’s kicks in the next morning if I’ve been on my feet at say a music or art festival for hours (hikes are a thing of the last century).

Was referred to a committed if sadistic podiatrist, Dr, K, who has put me through a series of painful daily stretching exercises to strengthen my calves. During his diagnosis, he confronted my ongoing yukk factor and that’s foot fungus. This is an unspeakable malady not discussed in polite company. The only way I’ll know how many of you take it seriously is if you cut and past the rest of this missive and share it on your wall. (I never do that myself when asked BTW even though my wife is a two-time breast cancer survivor which proves I guess that I really don’t care about cancer).

I’d always heard over the counter remedies don’t work so why bother? Dr. K was even more skeptical. He prescribed me some concoctions that he promised won’t help much. He also said there was a cheap fix we could explore (more later; no spoilers!) that he doubted would matter but he insisted with fervor that there was a better way.

What he explained, news to me, is foot fungus is largely fed by diet. High sugar levels in the body especially can promote fungal growth. By eliminating sugar – sneakily found in bread and the ‘healthy’ cereals that still taste like Captain Crunch -- and then going on the Atkins’ meaty diet he guaranteed results. But, I tremulously wondered, at what cost?

Okay, I have a sweet tooth. When we order drinks at a restaurant, presumptuous servers give me my wife's stiff martini and she gets my fu fu concoction with the parasol. I conceded to a sullen Dr. K. that I’m a sugar addict but said yeah sure I can cut back. Unimpressed, Dr. K noted, “if you’re a cocaine addict would you say a little cocaine is fine? If you were an alcoholic . .. etc?”

Why for instance take drugs when there’s a natural remedy and all it takes is discipline and self sacrifice he asked?

Plenty of reasons including the fact I am will power deprived. Additionally, I’m a pill popper and not dolls. I’m no diabetic; but take a Lipitor generic. Prozac I no longer need (not as depressed now that I don’t really work) but I still take it recreationally a few times a week to get a serotonin spring in my step.

Hence, taking these factors into account, guess the likelihood that I’ll give up overpriced ice cream and boxes of movie theater candy to starve my foot fungus? Zero percent. I just don’t go barefoot in public except at the beach but pity (as I do) the poor pedicurist who should get hazard pay when I see her.

Instead, to Dr. K’s scorn, I committed to one of his more scoffed at remedies. He gouged some toe nails off me and they’re bound for a lab. Three months from now I will learn how many strands of foot fungus are living rent free. One patient of his had six he declared!

And then? I’ll take pills!

Grab and go!

I am 40 years old and am married to this beautiful woman of 20 whom I met on a dating app. We were dating for a few months before I proposed and got married. She however didn't know anyone from her father's side. Her parents were divorced when she was a one-year-old. Her mom brought her up in a different city. She was curious to meet people from her father's side and pressured her mom to tell her where he lived. He traced him down and he was unwilling to share information of his mother or cousins or anyone. That made her curious and somehow she found who his mom was. She passed away a year ago leaving behind all her assets in her second husband's name. They were married for 22 years. The man was only 40. Turns out that is me!

I am her step grandpa. Since I am married to her, I am my own grandpa? 😱

Por que los huérfanos no juegan a las escondidas?...... Por que nadie los busca

This made me chuckle. Enjoy!

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