he asked his daughter to text him The moon was melting into the sky

                                                                          he liked the sentiment but thought he might be able to say it better

when she did text it to him he replied an oval of butter melting under a thin rind of blue marmalade

she replied Ooooh he heard her Ooooh more than read it her Oooohs were sensational you were fortunate if you ever heard one it made your skin go goosebumps 

that evening as he walked he pointed the moon out to anyone he crossed

crossing them – they hadnt noticed – something about being too busy to see to look up into the sky – Ah he replied you take things for granted

they blustered Obviously, you’re retired.

he didnt say one way or the other

he let them think what they wanted they would anyways

when he was a boy and learned what retirement was he laughed he knew he wouldnt be able to retire afford to retire

and he was okay with that even then

retirement meant having a career

                                    and there was no fucking way he was going to have one of those

he was passionate about Life living would suffer no confinement and its attendant horseshit

                                                                                                   he didnt own a suit

he had a sport jacket he bought forty years ago

a concession he made in order to attend a wedding

he made it a point to watch the sun set 

he made it a point if not to watch the moon then to go outside spend five minutes and say goodnight to it

he was usually at work before sunrise

0849,  Twosday,  11  2. 20

1105,  Twosday,  11  8. 20

https://twitter.com/Jim_Jordan/status/1292847141422018562

                                                                      HEY Republican Representative House Freedom Caucus member FREAK Jim Jordan 

                                        howbout you get your priorities straight howbout you get behind the emasculated United States Postal Service and help them do their job despite the appointed Postmaster General Louis DeJoy  whos apparent joy is sucking The Presidents cock

Fall football

             or critical mail delivery provided to every American in every town and city and every rural province

1711,  Twosday,  11  8. 20

he tried to wipe the sleep out of his eyes but it stuck

                                                       and it was stuck-tight for theHAR foreseeable futureNo fuckin rest for the wicked – nah he wasnt wicked per se – he was a caretaker  he split time with untrustworthy others who were helping an old buddy who had no one left

                                            they had exited five of six in a car accident some ten years or so ago  the survivor was murdered not long after a cold case unsolved  cops couldnt cobble a motive together

                                                                                                        perhaps forgetting that motive isnt intrinsic sometimes murder is coldblooded without rhyme or reason it presents  its opportunity an someone dies

he didnt think that

he was told by an older employer when he was a young teenager

                                                                     Bill Hems

Bill was a rabid  John Bircher rabid

                                      Yawan, ya can get away with murder, easy.  Yep.  Don’t doubt me, boy. Roll somewhere out of town. Walk up behind someone in the middle of the night an shoot ‘em in the back of the head.
Walk away.

No motive, boy.

Except you wanted to kill someone.

Ever want to kill someone?

I have.

But then I’d have motive.

If you killed them, randomly, they’re known to take walks at night, you’d never be suspected. That; and you’re a boy.

when his buddy called him for help he flewno questions asked

they needed him

he was there

he could have said No

someone else may have

he didnt have a No for him Ever

his buddy wouldnt have had a No for him Ever

                                                 Whacha need? hed move Heaven an Earth if he could

they were committed buddiesthey broke knuckles together back-to-back

                                                                             rarely but on occasion toe-to-toe  theyd irritated the other they were volatile flammable  no apologises necessary  the best-of-friends lovers husbands wives on occasion couldnt stand the other

                                      however those spatsthose insignificant moments in time over years an years were forgivable they didnt erode the deep feelings they had for each other

everyones a fuckin human being

aint a more faulty creature ever made

                                         catch em in a bad mooda foul mood intolerant theyd break an broken ya both own it

they were dyed-in-wool buddies

too bad one wasnt a broad 

either would have married the other

he was exhausted

                     he couldnt imagine exhausted and dying

eventually theyd find their way out

itd end

not for him

             then hed be responsible to tell his buddys story  happily

Yagot a moment  Ill buy ya a beer   I got a great fuckin story

1402,  Monday,  10  2. 20

1627,  Monday,  10  8. 20

Mark Meadows the White House chief of staff  the informal leader of the 2013 Republican suicide caucus a devotee of the House Freedom Caucus apparently wants to up his suicide cred to homicide     

https://www.msnbc.com/rachel-maddow-show/mark-meadows-makes-difference-not-good-way-n1236366?cid=eml_mra_20200811

all Meadows has accomplished throughout his political career is being unable to do anything

he and the FAKE PRESIDENT are a tight fit they walk in stepcould say they walk in goosestep   SIEG HEIL!

1257,  Tuesday,  11  8. 20