Day: August 31, 2026💾

Last night getting home, I developed an extreme paranoia over the wires melting in the stove after that grease fire I had on Friday cooking my pancakes down. It wasn’t that bad, I was able to blow it out after a few seconds, checked the wiring, stove burners and oven, all working, until I saw that flash in the oven – which I swore in my extremely paranoid mind was an arc flash from the melted wires.

Seeking a few moments of moral clarity, 🧠 I turned to Google A. I. to consider what I was staring down. 👀 You know a week or two with no coffee, no easy way to cook breakfast 🥯 except maybe outside on the tailgate of my SuperDuty outside on my camp stove. Ultimately I decided to take it’s advice, sleep on it. 💡 When I woke up this morning, I decided to flip the breaker on, realized it was the oven light switch with it’s decades of grease and dirt in it’s contacts causing the oven light to flicker. Not an arc flash, just a flickering light. God I can be so stupid and panicky.

It’s all the weed you smoked this weekend that made you so extremely paranoid, 🦗 don’t you know you sad desprate drug user. I do got to admit I kind of like that super cheap High Falls Canna Stavia, even if they mocked me at the dispensary on Friday for mispronouncing Stavia. One toke over the line, always blame it on the drugs even if it had been well over 12 hours since my last morning hit with my campfire coffee ☕ sitting up on the tailgate of my SuperDuty up at Duck Pond 🦆 in BFE Schoharie County, where I’m sure plenty of boys and girls with the horny buck goats out back 🐐 would quite openly burn their garbage 🛢️ if not for the burn ban and the politicians stepping on our throats. 👢

I was not looking forward to having to email 📩 my landlord about my 50-year old rusted out, grease and dirt covered stove needing junking and replacement. The one that mice have over the years bored a hole through the oven walls, the one I finally replaced the drip plates on after Friday’s grease fire. 🧯 I still have this fear I will get evicted out of my abode of 19 years, and be forced into one of those plastic covered houses in suburbs with a 25-year old Honda Civic out front and have to drive in traffic every day to work as the cops sit with their penises dangling out of windows watching to see if you are going 2 miles over the speed limit, appear colored or poor, and hand you a $1,000 ticket, assuming they don’t preform oral sex directly on your mouth 💋 on the roadside. Extreme paranoia, clearly that weed. I really liked how it didn’t make me real paranoid, or make me couch locked, 🛋️ but made the woods full of color and wildflowers 🪻 though I know those days are fading fast as autumn approaches.

Labor Day Weekend starts in 4 days now for me, 🛻 heading north by this hour on Friday to hit Speculator by nine o’clock so I can remote work, set up camp, smoke weed and drink beer, and maybe if it’s warm enough float on Jessup River. ⭕ Probably not, I might want to bring the propane heater 🏮 and this time actually the propane tank, as the high for the weekend is about 70 degrees but it’s the North Country and Labor Day is September 7th. The leaves will be turning color. 🍂 They say that “new” extra-stong weed is making people addicted, but really I haven’t had much of a craving outside of camp in wilderness, which is fun to enjoy the colors of wilderness. But then again, they look down at pot smokers, 😮‍💨 just like they do at country boys and girls that burn their garbage, especially that all that plastic crap that burn so black, or the boys and girls that drive a fucking Ford F-350 SuperDuty in an era when poles are melting for climate change. 🐻‍❄️ Just think of all that crap I’ve kept out of landfill, and remember I ride my bike or take public transit to work, that is one bus left after they cut 🪚 every other bus because they won’t raise the fares and Trump butchered all the revenue sharing for bus companies. 🚍

Well, it’s time to shower, slap some grease on the bike chain, 🚵‍♂️ ride my bike to work. Get some eggs and milk at Hannaford on way home, if it’s not raining too hard, 🌧️ then three more days, then Hardwood Hill, and maybe less dreams of melting wire. Do you think such fears and paranoia where from you watching the garbage illegally burn over the weekend? 🗑️ The melting plastic? 🔥 I don’t know, see what you need is Better, Better Help! And a 25-year old Honda Civic parked next to fake plastics recycling bin ♻️ and grid-tied solar for your plastic house and the 100-square foot colored televiison. ☀️ I got to get to work, not be couch locked or dreams of wildflowers and wilderness. And pack the damn propane before heading up to wilderness Friday, so I don’t stink like wood smoke from cooking over the fire, though that was pretty yummy. 😋