"No, not really"

Only side effect from omi-jab is a sore arm. Feel totally human otherwise, invincible in time for the next immuno-evasive variant to arrive over the holidays.

Vibes of Ted Cruz announcing Carly Fiorina as his running mate before the primaries were over in '16 as Tumor launched his revenge/ill-conceived indicitment avoidance greatest hits grift last night. Biden's reaction, when asked if he had anything to say about Tumor's announcing his candidacy, summed up all of my current thinking: "No, not really."

Still, waiting on the signs to pop up in this red state hell – or, rather, more signs to pop up since there have been numerous Tumor/Pestilence 2020 and Tumor 2024 signs and flags that never went away from the last time we had to listen to that shit.

Tried working in the evening last night and I really dug it. Thinking the reason it never worked before was that in the pre-LAST CHRISTMAS times, I had to work then – now I'm doing it because I want to.

this would be a title if i could come up with one right now

Inverse proportionality's vanishing act continues: whereas once fewer words in the Main Work meant more words here, they are – as with yesterday's more with more – few with few (though there are, as I let this flow, more here than on the main work so perhaps it's a return to SOP?)

What I can tell you is that Kirby has been demanding to sit in my lap – while I'm sitting in the office chair - all morning: growing up with The Morkie and The Jorkie, he's yet to understand how massive he is; three more months of velociraptor age-range that could last three years or his entire life. Whatever works: he is, utterly, Derbz.

Also: go read THE MEMORY POLICE now. It’s a fucking masterpiece.

Bivalent stabjab this afternoon; die COVID die.