July 6, 2023

  • Live better

    There are some observable details that signal an individual has made, at least, a cursory examination of Life's finite quality and has decided to act accordingly. Furthermore, the most illuminating of these sign posts will reveal whether the individual has set upon a life of reflective integrity or spiraling despair. One such revelatory details must surely be the unit capacity of carbonated beverages purchased. For example, as one reaches for a bottle of Tonic Water, there is only one condition in which that bottle must be prior to the conjugal release of its contents to the partially filled glass of Ice and Gin. To be clear, that condition is factory sealed, or more colloquially, un-opened. Now, some may be attempting the reconciliation of liter bottles of Tonic Water open for an individual drink. It would be hoped that three or four genuine friends in communion on the deck or the beach would, by equal measure, distribute said Tonic to their respective libations, because if this is not the case, most certainly the selection of the liter bottle was made in haste or habit, without even a Fool's thought about the course this unmeasured decision has set for the Soul. As is the certainty that a human with a re-capped liter of Tonic Water will add the residual to a future glass of Potential, resulting in a diminished shadow of an experience that need not have seen the Spirit thus gutted, so is the certainty that same Unenlightened will reflexively excuse such a ruinous result as some type of misguided attempt of efficiency.

    But do not advance to the conclusion that we have born witness to the aforementioned depths of anguish, as there might still be hope that the application of Knowledge to such a situation could blunt, or possibly cure, the wayward trajectory sufficiently for a chance at proper Redemption. No, if the reader needs exposure to such an incurable example as to generate that gasp of terror deep within the bosom, the focus should be on the shopping cart containing multiple 2 liters of Diet Coke, or possibly, store-branded generic flavors. These phantoms are of the type whose existence is distilled into a slow march in blinders to a personal gallows. Does any hope remain for the idled couch-ridden and their 2 liters of Mountain Dew Code Red? There does exist a way-point when the human condition has passed that event horizon of large-volume degradation, with the lowest possible odds of Salvation. This curse is known as the 3 liter bottle. Beware these plunderers of hope and dignity.

    The moral of the story: If engagement with Tonic Water from Schweppes or Seagrams is necessary, 10 oz containers should be considered the upper limit. To truly live, find the Boylan or Fever-Tree in 200 ml/6.8 oz.

    Lifetip: If it has a re-sealable, screw-on cap, it is a trap. Stick to classic bottle caps that deform upon opening or cans that punch out a tab.

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    A friend, my dad, and I explored another segment of the Grand River utilizing Juneteenth. The Grand River is an underutilized resource. The new holiday in June should not be an underutilized resource. Luckily, I have an enlightened employer. We dropped in around 8 am and were out before noon. We saw two humans on our journey. We encountered a deer attempting to cross the river. The birds serenaded us. We floated slowly past herons, ducks, and swans during our trip. The next step looks like a drop in that takes us out to Grand Haven. Of course, we have also been taking laps around the lake in the mornings and evenings when the water is still and glassy.

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    My Christmas present (chronograph) from my brother-in-law finally arrived after a period of back-order status. I can finally determine which specific .300 blk ammunition is leaving my 8" barrel at subsonic speeds. I would think that this should not be a hill I need to climb, but hell if the internet isn't a ball of contradiction and information black holes. I am spending some time switching out the buffer kit on the .300 blk to a lighter weight, in hopes that it will finally cycle a reload.

    If you are looking for a can from Rugged, I think they are currently running a few specials where they will pay for your $200 tax stamp.

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    I have been given access to a jar of Mateo's medium salsa out of Texas. I am not sure what their distribution footprint is right now (my jar came from Denver). I am not a salsa expert, but I am picky about which salsa I choose to eat. For years, my everyday driver has been Pace medium picante. I haven't purely enjoyed another salsa since the in-house salsa at the Peruvian place (Farolito, if I remember correctly) in Coconut Grove. If you see a jar of Mateo's and haven't tried it, I suggest that you do. I am running it 50/50 mixed with Pace as I type this.

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    Why aren't more people panicking about the next presidential election? We have already established that both Trump and Biden are busted, but it is like both sides are playing a game of chicken. We are on track for an entire term of senility, no matter which is selected. And neither will keep the old Vice, right? Maybe that will be our salvation? Doubtful. How can so much time go by without someone interesting and viable positioning themselves for a shot at the nuclear football?