I tried phoning the bank, concerning their computer glitch which ended up costing me $22.90. But there was a 15 minute wait - maybe because this has been happening to other people - so I decided to call some other time. There's a good chance they will own up and refund. USBank has a good reputation for ethical issues, other than supporting the Keystone XL Pipeline. That is because they are in Minnetoata.
For some reason my gas bill keeps going down.
Washed dishes, etc. I think crazy man did a big BANG at around 5:am. He might have overheard me doing my English exercises, thus:
"A bloody bevy of bare and hairy faeries, bearing heavy bags of bones and berries, crossed the levy dam at Swilly and, sword in hand, fed the fair and fallen frey, at harried County Derry."
He persecutes me for my Irishness.
Seriously. I think, to be truly Irish in America, is to be anti-mean-world. Be silly, dance and sing and joke around and pray to the elements and look asconse at all that riffraff in the streets that butter your bread. It's OK to be a mobster gangster punk in a church cloak, because that all fits in with mean-world. All the other ethnics that believe in eat-or-get-eaten mean-world views, they can understand this, and even forgive it, if you're willing to switch allegiances. But to sing in the night of this and that, as if having a penis were optional, (to humanity), this is not to be understood or allowed. Move in, bomb first, proactively retaliate, snuff it out before it becomes anything greater. The mean-world has a scanner going, looking for Irishness to snuff out. And, by, "Irishness," I mean, humanity - which is all of us.
When will the Irish in American rise up against all the mean portrayals in Hollywood movies? One day, the last great minority, will take us all away, to the better place we should have seen. To our better selves. If only we could end this sad mean-world.
I listened to the first CD of George Harrison in Japan. It was a 1991 concert produced for CD in 2004, when there was a whole lot of other George stuff going on. Well, by the time it got to, "Something," I was crying. I think there are not a lot of people who understand the journey of this man or, what's more, what he believed in. So. Let me start something here. George got together with Ravi Shankar, and came up with this Concert for Bangladesh. A concert, plus an album. Well, this was basically the first time anything of the sort had been accomplished, and set the stage for all other benefit concerts, from Farm Aid to everything else. And, George Harrison helped save lives in Bangladesh. Considering the lax requirements set by the Catholic church on Mother Teresa, I would say that Harrison's work on The concert for Bangladesh could be considered a miracle. What better a miracle than by the humane graces through action.
In a documentary on George Harrison, Olivia Harrison stated that, when George Harrison passed from this world, the entire room was literally lit up - with light. Maybe like a cigarette, and maybe like all the many songs George wrote about a divine light, the examples being too numerous to mention. He was always writing and sing about light. Even in his guitar solo on Belinda Carlyle's, "Leave a Light on For Me." So, even if it was all emotion, who is to say that the passing of George Harrison was not a kind of miracle?
And, so, I am submitting here, in this post, that George Harrison, raised in the Catholic Faith, and always making references back to that faith, sarcastically or not, SHOULD BE CONSIDERED FOR BEATIFICATION INTO SAINTHOOD BY THE CATHOLIC CHURCH. In all honesty, in light of all he has done, I do not know of many others who would qualify. This dark horse is a strong runner! Please, Pope Francis, consider this amazing spark of humanity for your consideration. I am hereby advocating an online campaign that George Harrison be considered for Sainthood in the Catholic Church. If the latter has any surviving sense of humility, it will knowingly oblige, and accept all satire as it's own umbrage of ecclesiastic beneficence, yo.
So, I was rescuing some sprigs of broccoli from damnation, by frying away their infectors, on a pan. Unfortunately, the pan came in contact with a little plastic, and smoke went in to the air of this abode. Disturbing. To breath in these corrosive polymers. I am take back to when I was on my last legs in Philly. I was set to move out soon - of an apartment wherein I had apparently contacted three days of Salmonella poisoning, and some kind of sepsis delirium. I had acquired a whole bunch of one-gallon plastic milk bottles. Lots of them, for some reason. Back when I was dairy. I don't think there was regular recycling back then. So, it was in my head to melt down all these large plastic containers into smaller, more compactable form. Maybe so they would fit in a recycling bin - I don't really remember.
But, what I did was melt them down by placing them in my oven - over - and over - again. I know my upper apartment smelt like obnoxious crap - and so, it would be inane to suppose that the downstairs of the townhouse - where my LL lived - did not also incur this tide of plastic fumes. Pretty dastardly. Horrid. Crazy stupid events in my life. Me just trying to good. I never asked for all this plastic. But, I should not have been doing dairy anyway. But what the fuck do any of us know? We grow up, we die, and we keep falling into the same mistakes of ancestors going back to the days of civilisation's beginning.
Lest I forget: I hope you will add proceedcyclone. She is competing in LJ-Idol. Soooo... If you were to add that, and plus VOTE for her, that would be super Irish of you. Because. I already voted for her. She deserves it. I know because she is the best. She has the sweetest little girl. And a loving husband. She came from a background of abuse. She deserves to be number one. She is number one.