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You got this, C-Dawg!

Sunday 1/14/24

Too often I'm starting the day by trying to chase a headache. I had one this morning. It's gone now, but that doesn't exactly help me spring into action.

Yesterday morning I was doing push-ups in the hall at 4:57 when a woman who lives upstairs was coming home. I asked her if her sexual encounter came off satisfactorily, to which she replied, "Yes it did, good sir, very much so," with me then saying, "I'm glad to hear it, rest up."

Only the first two parts are true, obviously.

Yesterday on Facebook I saw a woman who billed herself as a "mindset coach." Ah, that sweet con! Of course, the con works because not only are people that stupid, they're that desperate to be conned and give their money to people as stupid as they are. They love that shit. But it has to be someone equally stupid. "Say! You're as dumb as me! Can I give you my credit card number?"

I saw another woman who favorably reviewed her new gym, complaining that her old one wasn't positive and inclusive enough.

Fucking hell, people. It's a gym. There are machines and weights. You go on them, you lift them, you shower, you leave. Do you really need, like, what? Happy signage? "You're doing great and looking great!"

You know what is so wonderful--among other things--about stairs? Stairs are like, "I don't give a fuck if you run me or not, asshole. I'm not here to cater to your fucking feelings. You want to be out here and run me, that's your thing. That comes from you." There are no signs on the side of the stairs: "I know it's cold and windy and raining, but you got this, C-Dawg!" Stairs are just there, being stairs. It is what comes from within that matters.

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