Monday Morning

Pig Shit posted at PolitiCartoons. At first I thought it was a happy surprise. When I saw what he actually posted, it became a crashing disappointment. It was at least funny in how he seemed to have reverted to our stereotypical Russian troll. I was kind of relieved that I did not give in to the temptation to give him my Dreamwidth username, though it wouldn't surprise me if he has it, perhaps getting the information from Miss Fox, a fellow Russian.

I have no friends, not even the e-kind, not even a Russian. ... Hopefully, I will get over this fact and no longer feel the need to bewail it. Reading such statements, I realize that I sound like an angsty teenager. I need to start assuming my true social role in this world, that of the bitter, crusty old man.

Weather

A little overcast and well into the noon. Checking the forecast, I see we have a very strong chance for rain on Thursday and Friday. Of course, it would be our grocery day. Our grocery days seem to be a lightning rod for rainy weather.

Post-Nap

Pop went to the hospital to do some prep work for tomorrow's surgery. He cannot eat anything today. I tried a new rice that H.E.B. sells, their "Wild Rice", and asked Pop if he wanted to try it, which opened up the discussion about what he is going through.

Having the house to myself for a little while, I sought my fill of some chikan porn. SlutLoad.com has yet to get greedy for ad dollars and is safe to watch, for now. Heavy-R is also good on its ads, but Slutload has more chikan-type stuff. I do not seem to be able to get tired of these grope-rape videos. They are really kind of simple in both concept and execution, but ... well, I have yet to get tired of it. It obviously hits a sweet spot in my psychosexuality - the transgression of groping a fine woman that catches on carnal fire and turns to straight-out rape, even in the face of a crowd on public transport that must stand mutely by before the force of such natural primal passion.

Pumpkin Pie

Pop comes home with a pumpkin pie. We have been talking about it. 'Tis the season! Halloween is in the air, with turkeys and Santa Claus not far behind. It's particularly considerate of him since he cannot eat these couple of days. His mind is also pretty occupied with the fact that there was a mix-up regarding the medical arrangements, though everything is still a 'go' for tomorrow.

Magic Mountain

When I put down Lincoln this evening and resumed "Magic Mountain", feeling how deep my love runs for this novel, I felt moved to own a copy of Harold Bloom's collection of critical essays on the book (having read a copy from the library once). It is apparently out of print, but there is still a sizeable 'used' market for it. Even more, while I was there, at Amazon, I discovered a third collection of essays on the novel, one of those "Casebook" jobs. (Remember, I already have another collection, the "Companion" essays.) And then I came across a few promising critical biographies. I am feeling giddy with so much book-love.

I should not complain about my loneliness so much. It is happiness enough if I can continue to enjoy the life I have with these books, but I suppose carnal urges cannot be successfully and wholly denied, though one should be able to keep those urges from consuming what is good about this life, what makes it worth living.

The Affair

I got lucky and caught the premiere of the second season of Showtime's "The Affair". Remember, I do not have a lot of will to chase TV shows around the TV dial and around the weekly calendar. Netflix and Amazon spoiled me. It has to be a special show to get me to try, and although I really liked the first season of "The Affair", I was turned off by the cliffhanger, as it looked like it was going to be a big murder mystery that threatened to become a courtroom drama. However, judging by this new episode, it looks as if they decided to walk it back and focus instead on the personal relationships. That might sound soap-opera-ish, but they do a real good job of it. I find it engrossing, and I expect to stick with it.