Wednesday, September 11, 2024

PECKING AT THEIR LEGS

So my apartment mate has suggested that I bring the stuffed turkey vulture to my next medical appointment (cardiologist, on Monday in the morning), he'd have such fun there! Treats! Spare body parts! Random dead people lying abandoned in the hallways! It's two busrides away, and I'm not sure I'm ready to deal with a feathered ghoul for several hours that early. I'd have to explain to people in the waiting room that they shouldn't worry when he's pecking at their legs. If they can feel it, it means that they aren't dead yet.

See? It's a good thing!

Perhaps it's time for them to find religion.

I never knew that requiring the services of medical professionals would be so stressful and require so much effort. If I had, I would have stayed in my twenties or thirties longer.

On a different note, I've asked my apartment mate if she would like dinner at a nearby restaurant which we both like sometime next week. No reason, but she puts up with me and the turkey vulture, and lord knows it can't be easy dealing with Dutchmen. Which is why my ancestors came over here. We were surrounded by our kind over there, and it must have proven traumatic. The Belgians and Germans stayed, and look at them today.
There are no Dutchmen in Florida, and life there is splendid. Good food, simple normal people. That's why they're in the news all the time. Honestly, it's a total paradise.
The weather is nice too. And the best education on the planet.

No hurricanes, no flooding, no rising sea levels, no iguanas falling out of trees during horrid cold spells. Which happens in Holland all the time. Just look at their mediaeval art.
Pieter Brueghel is notorious for painting that stuff.


Florida does not need additional healthcare, nutritional programs, publishing safeguards, or any police oversight. People are just happy to be there.

It's an American kind of place.



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