Shortly after boot camp, I saw an article in a magazine about this ‘poor guy,’ who only had a van to live in, spending his time fishing to eat.

“What a life!” I thought.

Eventually, I altered that ‘story,’ making it mine. It included moving to the big island of Hawai’i, peddling a rickshaw bicycle, shuttling tourists around, buying a VW bus, and living on the beach. This little fantasy got me through a lot of trying moments, some that nearly cost me my sanity and a couple, my life.

Recently, I’ve been fantasizing about getting an old horse trailer…

“I don’t want to hit it,’ Darwin said.

“You have to,” his supervisor said, “It’s part of the program. Besides, it’s only a robot.”

“Yeah,” Darwin countered, “What if it’s as smart or even smarter than they say it is?”

“Remember Asimov’s First Rule?” the supervisor asked.

“Yes,” Darwin answered.

“Repeat it to me,” the supervisor said.

“A robot may never injure a human being, or through inaction, allow a human being to come to harm,” Darwin said.

“Great,” the supervisor said, “Now, hit it.”

Darwin lifted the bat, but the robot took it away before he could swing.

A printer came on somewhere in the laboratory, printing the result: ‘Human is injured by the thought of hitting the robot.’

It had grown more intelligent than its creators.

For 20-years I’ve been blogging and not once has anyone from my home-area ever joined in this task. And while he is not joining me, per se, I am happy to say that I can no longer say I am alone at this. Please welcome my long-time friend Rick, and please follow his endeavor… Yesterday is the future, or in this case, the future was 2 days ago. Tom Darby and I established a texting channel outside of FB’s Messenger 2 days ago. We are both highly censored and doxed and canceled and blacklisted and whatever other tricks the fascist tyrants implement these dark days. It is the…Solutions Will Present — SISKIYOUS LIFE Welcome, Rick!

My Cousin Elmo says, “Because of COVID-19, my garbage bin gets to go out more than me.”

My Cousin Elmo says, “Congratulations, you’ve made it one-twelfth of the way through 2021.”

He did everything correctly after the world went to hell. He made it to his initial ‘bug-out’ site and reorganized himself before heading off on his 400-mile journey home.

By the end of the week, he had started traveling at night, avoiding towns, stopping during the day to sleep. Three months later, he came to Giuntoli Lane, knowing he had less than 90 miles to go.

Deciding to cross an open field through some cows to a copse of trees to rest during the day, he had forgotten that the cows, now wild, might have different ideas. He could not outrun #272.

More bad news as my cousin Stephen Timmons died January 22, following an accident in Broken Bow, Oklahoma, where he lived. He jus’ turned 65, having been born in Enid, Oklahoma, January 3, 1956.

We had only ever met once in 1964 when I was three, and he was seven and that was at my Grandma Agnes’ funeral. All I can recall about that time is the turtle, the ‘midgets’, and the watermelon we enjoyed eating every night.

Years later, we contacted each other through social media and had tentative plans to get together this coming summer. Stephen had such a great sense of humor, was quick-witted, and an all-around great guy.

While I treasure the time we had getting to really know one another, I’m gonna miss his friendship.

“You’re always making up stories to get me to do stuff you don’t want to do,” my son said when he was eight-years-old.

“You’re only saying that to get out of doing your chores,” I said.

“I’m not either, and you know it,” he said.

“What story have I made up?” I asked.

“Well,” he answered, “like the one where you said you’d toss me through a portal into another dimension if I didn’t clean up my room.”

“That’s not made-up,” I returned. “What do you think happened to your older brother?”

“What older brother?” he asked.

I smiled, “Exactly.”

My Cousin Elmo says, “We need to investigate the Democratic party to see if they have any ties to the U.S.”

He was standing at the cellphone store’s window. Taffy recognized her former levitation and potion’s teacher right away.

She joined him.

“Though you might not be here,” he said.

“Had no idea that I was going to be here,” Taffy returned.

“Yet here you are,” he said.

After a brief silence, he stated, “The old magic is in danger from the new.”

“The new?” Taffy asked.

He pointed at the items on display, then disappeared in a puff of smoke. Taffy turned to see a woman with a cellphone camera.

“What..?” she said before also vanishing in a smoky cloud.