Turnin' isn't really spinnin' but I'm going with it.
There's really no spinning of the circumstance and not even the vibe but there's no more of the detail than is necessary due to the intensely-personal nature of it.
Cat sent her best wishes today and I relayed those to Yevette when she got back here. It's the same as with prayers from some of you and expressions from the regulars in any way which make sense to you but all that comes down to pure human goodness.
All of you know nothing fixes your body like sleep so, uh, tell me, prithee, what force is that.
We have all the science and know how all the proteins zip, zip, zip around doing the magical things they do but still we believe PHG (Pure Human Goodness) has an effect. Science has refuted the power of prayer to change physical outcomes more than once but we will believe PHG has an effect because why the fuck not. Even if nothing else seems to have a chance of working, maybe that will and I doubt anyone's willing to throw it away. Maybe dumb fucking luck will do it and it PHG cannot possibly do any harm.
Right now I'm just kind of a quartermaster who is trying to anticipate whatever will be needed and ensuring it's on-hand. That may even sound drably heroic but really it means making sure there are fresh bananas for her yogurt.
I remember banana sandwiches from when I was a kid in Australia. Slice up the banana, smoosh it up a tad on the sandwich, and then sprinkle a little cane sugar over it. That's probably infinitely disgusting now but that was some good eatin' for a kid.
I could see risking a banana for an experiment but sugar isn't much in evidence here.
Note: Yevette takes her coffee black. I'm tellin' you ... she's bad ass.
Ed: are you seriously going to pass that banana sandwich off as cancer therapy?
Lighten up, Marcus Welby, since we have three possibilities:
- it's infinitely disgusting
- it's ho hum
- she likes it
Seems to me 33% gets better odds than a lottery ticket so that's worth a bit of wtf I believe. It makes for some fruit and some carbs so it would even be good for her.
There is zero miracle cure, abra kadabra bullshit going on in the background. The Rockhouse is playing a book game and no-one ever plays chess except to win.
Maybe it needs no more detail than this week is the opening. In chess, we like to dance with each other a little before we start warring, don't we.
Next week we start into it and Yevette wants it now. See above about black coffee bad ass.
There is no false bravado nor is there unrealistic expectation. Yevette will get through this. It's going to suck but there is realistic survival.
This week is a little tense from waiting for the show to start but all stays generally cool.
It was cowboy cool today since the co-member of the Perimeter Defense Force was out there mowing the lawn. I don't know if he was ever a cowboy but he wears a hat sometimes. Maybe you have heard of cowboys beating women but this one was cutting her grass. Tip o' the Rockhouse Purple Felt Fedora on that, Cowboy Cool.
Many times people like to dramatize this as fighting but there isn't really any fight. Your job is don't give up. It's little league but going over to Dallas so they can dissect me on an installment plan has sucked a lot more than I've let on but continue or it gets worse so do it. They will do it again in a few days but this time it's an outside hotshot to carve me up real nice.
Ed: you really didn't have to buy the cancer economy package with the family bundle!
In retrospect, that is clear to all of us now.
One more time from the Radio Guy who broadcast from London during the Battle of Britain and he continued throughout the bombing, starting out every show saying, "You've got to larf."
Note: the story of Radio Guy came to me from my ol' Mother and I love my ol' Mother but I have never been able to locate the fellow, recording of a broadcast, etc. I would have heard it from her nearly sixty years ago so I may have distorted my recollection and the trail of Radio Guy is now wispy thin.
Nevertheless ... you've got to larf.
There's really no spinning of the circumstance and not even the vibe but there's no more of the detail than is necessary due to the intensely-personal nature of it.
Cat sent her best wishes today and I relayed those to Yevette when she got back here. It's the same as with prayers from some of you and expressions from the regulars in any way which make sense to you but all that comes down to pure human goodness.
All of you know nothing fixes your body like sleep so, uh, tell me, prithee, what force is that.
We have all the science and know how all the proteins zip, zip, zip around doing the magical things they do but still we believe PHG (Pure Human Goodness) has an effect. Science has refuted the power of prayer to change physical outcomes more than once but we will believe PHG has an effect because why the fuck not. Even if nothing else seems to have a chance of working, maybe that will and I doubt anyone's willing to throw it away. Maybe dumb fucking luck will do it and it PHG cannot possibly do any harm.
Right now I'm just kind of a quartermaster who is trying to anticipate whatever will be needed and ensuring it's on-hand. That may even sound drably heroic but really it means making sure there are fresh bananas for her yogurt.
I remember banana sandwiches from when I was a kid in Australia. Slice up the banana, smoosh it up a tad on the sandwich, and then sprinkle a little cane sugar over it. That's probably infinitely disgusting now but that was some good eatin' for a kid.
I could see risking a banana for an experiment but sugar isn't much in evidence here.
Note: Yevette takes her coffee black. I'm tellin' you ... she's bad ass.
Ed: are you seriously going to pass that banana sandwich off as cancer therapy?
Lighten up, Marcus Welby, since we have three possibilities:
- it's infinitely disgusting
- it's ho hum
- she likes it
Seems to me 33% gets better odds than a lottery ticket so that's worth a bit of wtf I believe. It makes for some fruit and some carbs so it would even be good for her.
There is zero miracle cure, abra kadabra bullshit going on in the background. The Rockhouse is playing a book game and no-one ever plays chess except to win.
Maybe it needs no more detail than this week is the opening. In chess, we like to dance with each other a little before we start warring, don't we.
Next week we start into it and Yevette wants it now. See above about black coffee bad ass.
There is no false bravado nor is there unrealistic expectation. Yevette will get through this. It's going to suck but there is realistic survival.
This week is a little tense from waiting for the show to start but all stays generally cool.
It was cowboy cool today since the co-member of the Perimeter Defense Force was out there mowing the lawn. I don't know if he was ever a cowboy but he wears a hat sometimes. Maybe you have heard of cowboys beating women but this one was cutting her grass. Tip o' the Rockhouse Purple Felt Fedora on that, Cowboy Cool.
Many times people like to dramatize this as fighting but there isn't really any fight. Your job is don't give up. It's little league but going over to Dallas so they can dissect me on an installment plan has sucked a lot more than I've let on but continue or it gets worse so do it. They will do it again in a few days but this time it's an outside hotshot to carve me up real nice.
Ed: you really didn't have to buy the cancer economy package with the family bundle!
In retrospect, that is clear to all of us now.
One more time from the Radio Guy who broadcast from London during the Battle of Britain and he continued throughout the bombing, starting out every show saying, "You've got to larf."
Note: the story of Radio Guy came to me from my ol' Mother and I love my ol' Mother but I have never been able to locate the fellow, recording of a broadcast, etc. I would have heard it from her nearly sixty years ago so I may have distorted my recollection and the trail of Radio Guy is now wispy thin.
Nevertheless ... you've got to larf.
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