WRITER’S BLOCK

It’s another day in the 90s and, without a pool to swim in, I don’t want to go out.  It looks like my community’s pool is going to open in 2 weeks.  I have no idea when it will close.  They are working on the vegetable garden now and I probably won’t plant anything until next year.

Renee and I met one of the neighbors last night.  She seemed nice and we talked about having a driveway cocktail party with all of the other new neighbors.  Looks like we’ll sit in our driveways and yell across the street.  Whoopy!

I have writer’s block; I’ve not gotten very far with my book ideas.  I’ve also not found a job I can do from my home office yet.  I had my telemed visit with Dr Bianchi last week and it was better than expected.  Of course, knowing him for 20 some years helped.  Other than being grossly obese and having extreme fatigue, I passed with flying colors.

I’ve finished everything good on the 3,000 (maybe I’ve exaggerated a little) channels I have access to and now I’m doing comedy on You Tube.  There are some interesting pod casts on You Tube in addition to the comedy.  Maybe I should do stand-up comedy.  In my case, I’d have to call it Lean-on comedy, as, I can’t stand long periods of time without leaning on something.  Shopping carts are great for bad backs.

I’m sick of Covid-19.  I want to go to Nueva Vallarta and spend 2-3 weeks on the beach. They actually have as many problems as we do.  I want to go to Hilton Head and lounge on the beach or at the pool but I’d have to worry about exposure there as well.

I’d like to fly back to Chicago and see my friends, go to fine restaurants and do a little boating on the Chain of Lakes, but again, it’s too risky. The longer this virus stays active, the longer my list of things I want to do gets.  Also, the closer I get to going insane.

Actually, going insane doesn’t sound so bad right now.  It feels like I’m living in LaLa Land. Baby sitting on Monday and Tuesday helps some.  Smiles and kisses from Mackenzie are better than drugs.  Hudson is a crier but still a lovable.  Luckily, I’m half deaf and can nap right through one of his fits.

We close on the Illonois house August 31.  My friend Barb ran a 3 day yard sale which flopped.  No one came.  What a pity!  I left some really great stuff to sell but Covid kept everyone home.  A local church group is going to take everything and give it to the needy.

If I had listened to my mother, I would have been able to keep both the Illinois house and the Carolina home.  I can still hear her. “Stewart, you spend too much on the kids.  You need to save more for retirement.”  

I love summers in Long Grove!  I’m not going to get into the “shoulda, coulda, woulda” conversation.  I enjoyed spending money and still do.  My three great loves are sex, food, and spending money.  At 69, eating is the easiest of the three.  I have sex almost every day of the week!  Almost on Monday, almost on Tuesday, almost Wednesday, etc.  Spending money out of my retirement fund is not wise.  That leaves eating.  I’m still a world class cook and eater.  Lucky for me, North Carolina’s restaurant scene is not nearly as good as Chicago. 

So, when I can’t think of anything to write about, I turn inwards and start looking at myself.  I’ve been overly indulgent with food and it’s not healthy.  I seem to find enough will power for 2-3 days of healthy eating, then relapse.  As Bruce taught me, if you fall down six times, get up seven.  So, I’ll get up again and again until I get it right.

Time to go for a walk.  It’s been too hot to ride the bike.  I’m looking forward to fall and cooler temperatures.  In 10 years, I’ll probably write about missing snow.  NOT!

Here’s your music and another joke.

Little Timmy was sitting on the front porch with his grandpa when he saw the man take a sip of whisky.

Little Timmy looked up at him and said “Hey, PopPop?”

The grandpa looked down at him and asked “What’s on your mind, boy?”

“May I please have a sip of that whisky”? He pleaded. 

Thoughtfully, the aged man stroked his beard and asked “Well, can your dick touch your butthole”?

Unsure of his point, Timmy said, “No?”

The grandpa laughingly chortled, “Then you’ll have to wait when you’re older”!

Little Timmy was upset as he saw his grandpa light up a cigar. Little Timmy asked with a hopeful voice “Hey, PopPop? May I please have a suck on that cigar”? 

Amused by his persistence, he repeated “Well, can your dick touch your butthole”?

Upset, Timmy just sighed as he looked at the floor. Smiling still, the old man said, “you’re going to have to wait until you’re older, Tim”.

Little Timmy moped his way inside the house where his grandma saw him in such a dreary state. Thinking to herself that she knew exactly how to cheer him up, she started making his favorite chocolate chip cookies.

Waking up from his nap outside at the smell of cookies, the weary man stood up out of his rocking chair and followed the smell inside where he laid eyes upon his grandson eating cookies to his heart’s content. Strolling over to the boy, he quietly mused “Gee, Timmy. Those are some awfully good smelling cookies. Mind if I have one”?

Pondering this for a couple of seconds, Little Timmy finally asked “Well… Can your dick touch your Butthole”?

Smiling, the grandpa slowly said “Why, yes it can. “

“THEN YOU CAN GO FUCK YOURSELF! GRANDMA GAVE THESE TO ME”!

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