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BY Davey H

05/01 Direct Link

Oh, and that hotly anticipated Corona Stimulus check? Another ‘hey what the heck?’ on deck.
For you see, Davey is among the growing cadre of suspicious citizens who question the official narrative in this ostensible pandemic situation.
Let’s posit the checks are indeed sent. Then further conjecture they actually arrive and are cashed or deposited or whatever. Too late.
Too little – especially for city slickers:; that money is already spent. And here’s the kicker: they can’t pay their rent!
To wit: Yes, Davey gives a shit. But not being possessed of miraculous powers,
Davey guessed he was keeping bad hours.
05/02 Direct Link

More time for reading, much knowledge to glean; no mask, no bleak quarantine.

One of life’s features: we’ll have many teachers
and bosses as well who could fire us
at the end of the day out in this foray
we could say this new boss is a VIRUS
Hah! What a pain. So insane – he’s not crappin’;
he wrapped up for rain that never did happen.
 
Damn weather so-called ‘predictors’can’t predict jack-shit – even with NOAA advisories.
 
Now it’s 4/9, and so far, doing fine as Davey will often retort; he’s getting informed as Corona stormed by watching the Corbett Report.
05/03 Direct Link
So he waits and watches, watches and waits for immuno-splotches proposed by Bill Gates.
The computer maven has gone too far
as now he’s a ravin’ Ted X star.
Telling Pharma what it wants to hear
and filling us all with a viral fear.

Yes, that’s right, folks – the Bill and Melinda Gates Foundation has become a very well-funded mouthpiece for Big Pharma’s vaccine industry and by inference, its agenda. A deep-pocketed collective of disease mongerers intent on raking in the cash from hoped-for global vaccine “initiatives” – better known as mandates. As Bill has intimated, he wants the planet vaccinated.
05/04 Direct Link
So he waits and watches, watches and waits for immuno-splotches proposed by Bill Gates.
The computer maven has gone too far
as now he’s a ravin’ Ted X star.
Telling Pharma what it wants to hear
and filling us all with a viral fear. Yes, that’s right, folks – the Bill and Melinda Gates Foundation has become a very well-funded mouthpiece for Big Pharma’s vaccine industry and by inference, its agenda. A deep-pocketed collective of disease mongerers intent on raking in the cash from hoped-for global vaccine “initiatives” – better known as mandates. As Bill has intimated, he wants the planet vaccinated.
05/05 Direct Link
Because all the bad news makes for nasty world views. So now it was Saturday on a simmering globe given over to fear, disease, death, and pandemonium. Thus, Davey must make sure that he
always wears his PPE. Without a virus to inspire us, it’s safety first, you see? And working class still bustin’ ass so irrevocably. Yes, Davey did that bustass thing – long before onset of spring. So what of Alex? What will he do then? Well, Alex waits as his health concerns mount; for he’s fearing Bill Gates’s Microsoft account. He’s veering, nearing, fearing and leering at harm
05/06 Direct Link
Because all the bad news makes for nasty world views. We’re reeling on a globe given to fear, disease,and pandemonium. Thus, Davey’s makin’
sure that he always wears his PPE. Without a virus to inspire us, it’s safety first, you see? And working class still bustin’ ass so irrevocably. Yes, Davey did that bustass thing – long before onset of spring. What about Alex? What will he do then? Well, Alex waits as his health concerns mount; for he’s fearing Bill Gates’s Microsoft account. He’s veering, fearing and leering at harm – from what will be appearing: that shot in the arm.
05/07 Direct Link
So Davey H waxed concerned with some dread as things he has learned resound in his head. He has grown weary of bad news – the sordid dis-ease-suffused dreck he reluctantly seeks while ensconced on his cheeks. ‘Better witty than shitty’, he speaks. Some of his cohorts take everything way too hard instead of with a grain of salt; of course they ignore that Davey H bard, but that’s not all their fault. Today is the dreaded April 15th as Davey H lapses into a slump as he tries not to think or raise a big stink over so-called president Trump.
05/08 Direct Link
Thus to be an avid learner, he puts life on the back burner. As a working-class standard bearer, Davey, alas, is a working wayfarer. And surely as his flatulation, virus news has reached near-saturation. So every day they slam that hammer – a power play of NewsCorp yammer. “Trust us, we’re experts,” is the implication across the divided locked-down nation. Davey H and Mrs. T listened to ongoing corona droning, occasionally shrugging and wondering when things would return to so-called normal. Davey’s hunch was that this ‘normal’ state would precipitate what would be know of late as a vaccine police state.
05/09 Direct Link
Again, to reiterate: EFF that, mate! Davey H ended up not writing much today because he had so little to say. It was tough enough amid all this stuff to keep fatigue at bay. The humans raced and soon defaced their nutritive essence that went to waste. Davey H was still employed and wondered about the local ghost town he tooled through so frequently. No signs of protesters waving cardboard signs; at least not yet. That was one facet of social distancing that hasn’t garnered that much attention: the dispersal effect of said social distancing handily precludes organic protest efforts.
05/10 Direct Link
Meanwhile, the mere scrawling of these observations has irritated Davey’s hands and wrist to the point that he’ll now call it quits. The next day while scribbling on his well-worn Scratchbook©®™ⓂⓅ℠, the grate Davey H came to the stunned realization that, despite not having eaten since 5 pm the previous day, he still had no appetite. A garic clove or two later, Davey felt better, but not greater. A spring sign: SUN. That meant things would be fine when all said and done. Thought vault ‘oer asphalt: the term ‘done’ – should one be so persnickety as to insist on its
05/11 Direct Link
ultimate, non-negotiable meaning – refers specifically to baked or otherwise cooked items. When said cooking is completed, ‘done’ is the quite apropos term in its application. However, the word ‘done’ has been overused as a go-to for any completed task.
Thus, with wandering mind and little to find, Davey sets out with no axe to grind. “Somewhere in here,” did Davey say, “alas, I fear – just lost a whole day.”
Yet the grate Davey H has managed to log ample work hours despite the manufactured psy-op virus crisis as he tools around from place to place and yet another friggin’ place.
05/12 Direct Link
Now it appears to confirm his fears that he’ll need to kowtow. And how? Wear a mask on his face. Nevertheless, it was time to be calm. Bail stale gas and slather on balm. Horses with foals and the libertine rails continuing to hector. To wit – no shit – when Davey H expressed no disdain whatsoever for the freedom marchers who were protesting the lockdoens, he caught a massive load of flak. Not that he lost any friends or sleep over it, but he was surprised and dismayed at the reactions. Nonplussed, he now offers these snippets of today’s shopping excursion:
05/13 Direct Link
  he took note of the various protocols in place and the varying degrees of enforcement. The pod people – better known as dutiful sheep-like mask wearers – were pretty ubiquitous, and one store would not allow shopping if the would-be shopper dared to enter whilst unmasked. To Davey, a somewhat independent thinker, the mask requirement brought on a bit of unease. And the residue thereof didn’t dissipate after leaving the store. Later, at the Big-Box hardware store, the unease was still palpable and surfaced in a big way whenever someone looked at him. It smacked of a new brand of ‘citizen authoritarianism’.
05/14 Direct Link
Nevertheless, it was time to be calm. Horses with foals and courses with goals; dug dirt, couldn’t hurt on those smooth southern shoals. Not-so-cheap gas gives power to pass while raking you over the coals.
After that bit of nonsense – always a fair play in the interest of finger warmups – it shall hereby be noted that as of this posting, it is April 22nd and supposedly Earth Day. Yes, THAT Earth – the one we’re presently trashing. Many observers – pundits as well as ordinary folks – have noted the dramatic overall emission reductions presently occurring as a result of lockdowns and quarantines.
05/15 Direct Link
So take Davey to task for not wearing a mask: yeah, he’s such a weasel! But Davey is slight and never was burly; with all of his might he must get up early. Exercising whatever powers to trim the trees, plant some flowers to so please the bees; working quite late with his energy dwindling; lots on his plate as he cuts up some kindling. Maintaining awareness among other factors of what in all fairness becomes of old tractors: to see them is painful, so covered in rust, and no longer gainful in mud, weeds and dust.
So screw that!
05/16 Direct Link
He knew that the time was-a-wastin’, and though he’d been through that and taken a pastin’, someday he knew that he would live to rue that tractor’s demise before its time was through. Some surprise.
It is now time for another anecdotal bellicosity.  Out on Monk Street, a true believer is walking his sweet old Golden Reriever. Mo mask? You ask? Hey, let’s hear some static. Don’t take him to task, ‘cause he’s asymptomatic.
“I don’t recall ever seeing anything like this in my life,” Davey H muses. “But it’s not terribly surprising; we never can agree on anything anyway.
05/17 Direct Link
“The voices on both sides have become so strident, combative, even outright vindictive.” He pauses, takes another long pull on a glass of warm ginger tea and continues: “If your eyeballs aren’t glistening, that means you might not be listening. Not that it’s bad not to listen.”
Ugggh. In the present tense, Davey didn’t make sense.
Introducing Dr. Blakesly Hassenfoos, director of viral disinformation. . .EFF that. Davey H was pondering a post in which he would attempt to pillory a medical professional – particularly one in the COVID field. Not a wise choice. A dead end for sure. Therefore, he refrained.
05/18 Direct Link
Actually, said pillorying would be aimed at bureaucracy, not workers on front lines, lest anything to the contrary be construed.
At hand was a task: fixing a broken tool from yesterday’s job with J.J.Cale’s ‘Gypsy Man’ running through his head. Davey bid the work to commence. After all, worse songs could course through one’s head. At least ‘Gypsy Man’ was an upbeat, pleasing tune. Yo, check this sh** out: what if we caught up with Lee Remick to see what she thought of this info-demic. She’d say “not much, just read the Times; but, as such, my last name rhymes.”
05/19 Direct Link
“Heavens!” Davey shrieks with much dismay; and of what he speaks: he missed a day. But is this true? Upon closer look, whoops – he missed TWO! Now he plays a different tune; in Corona haze let’s GET OUT SOON!
Too many folks are living in fear, so ‘soon’s the word they loathe to hear. For renters and tenants it’s no vacation, and could lead to forceful relocation. Somewhat downtrodden, Davey still shopped, nitrile-gloved and masked; through many colored aisles he hopped, in LED lights basked. Though his opposition to all this was strong, he took the position of playing along.
05/20 Direct Link
Up off the ‘tocks and don’t weep and wail; then it’s out to the box to get yesterday’s mail. Pandemic polemic a damn double header; it makes one anemic before things get better.
Though 2020 will go down in history as the year the human immune system suddenly ceased to function, nobody bats an eye – at least not with compunction. But because of good immunity some saw an opportunity. Internet trolls crawled out of their holes and began to post with impunity. The workers worked and shirkers shirked wihlst lurkers lurked. Murky were the waters for mothers, sons, and daughters.
05/21 Direct Link
Indeed, all manner of information was being blared to a gullible populacfe already full to the earlobe level saturation point with input. Mainstream sources spouted ‘The Vaccine’ as if it would be the only solution to this intentionally overblown scene.
Daybreak Asia: open the schools; those displays – a ship of fools. None in power to besmirch; build your tower of research! Gone is Delphi, that’s a start; now her power is Wal*Mart. Did NAFTA hafta? How’d that go? South, you mouth – THAT you should know. [Thank the vulture capitalists]
Shush! Amid the ceaseless chanting, Davey needs to do some planting.
05/22 Direct Link
Not marching in lockstep therefore, the grate Davey H did head out the door. Persistent rain meant little to gain and also brought pain and dank water stain. Of course, it meant loosened soil, therefore less toil so sumac could be pulled without blood to boil. The scourge of Rhus species and rosa multiflora has been a menace nearly from day one. Whoops. . . We interrupt this post to address an Ubntu update on Davey H’s slick-ass computer. It requires password entry to install it, you know. And as a point of reference, Davey H now divulges his password: ‘Tufted Titmou$e’.
05/23 Direct Link
So there. Try that one on for size, gals and guise. Good luck finding his computer in this mess, though. Hah! Nice tries!
Today, finally, a non-Gates foundation-funded reporter stated the obvious: the vaccine pushers’ wet dream – a hopefully [in their minds] mandated coronavirus vaccine – will stride to the ‘rescue’ as a one-size-fits-all non-solution.
BullSHIT.
Where once life was to be enjoyed, now Bob’s wife is paranoid. “I hope that it is not too late to retain rights NOT to vaccinate.” she said, somewhat flustered. Life was worth living and gifts were for giving and energy is to be mustered.
05/24 Direct Link
On the second day of May with the rain held at bay old Davey did rightly say that the sky was still gray. Then ‘they’ say: ‘Don’t wait: isolate.’ That message from the infamous ‘they’ their power to convey. When entering urban, semi-urban or ‘urban lite’ areas, Davey H gets creeped out. The vibe sucks. It is friggin’ pathetic. So many hapless saps with masks. At times he felt like a shallow-rooted tree; a thin-skinned underdeveloped sapling growing out of a crack in a Bronx sidewalk. Funny; he had never been through the Bronx outside of a car or train.
05/25 Direct Link
“These things are not easy to find,” Mrs. T said while shopping for Mother’d Day gifts. Davey H grunted his acknowledgement, adding, “I like ‘em all. They’re real purty to a one.” Unsatisfied with his response, Mrs. T pressed on: “Is Strawbridge & Clothiers still in business?” “Heck no,” Davey snapped. “That’s ancient history.”
Indeed, just like the late great Sears & Roebuck, which had flourished as the American baby boom generation came of age. “We’re going to see FAR fewer retailers in the landscape after this COVID psy-op is over,” Davey rasped, awash in cynicism. He could be harsh that way.
05/26 Direct Link
Mrs. T took this in stride, being accustomed to Davey’s acerbic replies.
Then it was Monday morning and birds are singing; rain, no drought, and the phone’s not ringing. So let’s go out, see what the day’s bringing.
Yup, they brought dirt today – LOTS of it. Riding the loader was very tiring and Davey H felt every minute of it. Truck running poorly? Gas sucking more-ly. ‘They’ want to control us and try to cajole us freedom is now needed sorely. It’s summer school of 2020 this lax student abhors; suck-screen time for learning aplenty, but will they go outdoors?
05/27 Direct Link
We all know the benefits of recess: a chance to blow off steam, piss and vinegar. Swings, jungle gyms, merry-go-rounds. Ahh, the age of innocence – an era gone by. Or shall we say ‘bogone era’?
In the aforementioned halcyon era, Davey H and his cohorts walked to school, played in the dirt by a creek, got bullied, and ate lots of junk food courtesy of a 7/11 up the street from where he lived. Fire drills at school were common and frequent. Nuke attack drills, too. Kids were taught to huddle under their desks until sirens [if present] stopped whining.
05/28 Direct Link
Nobody told us kids to bend over and kiss our asses goodbye while we were under those desks, but it might have helped put things in proper perspective in the context of preparing for the ‘real thing’ should an errant nuclear state decide to ‘push the button down’.
Every 4th of July a fellow down on Povidone Road would fire off an old Civil War era cannon in his yard. No balls – at least none expressed or implied – just the powder. Or so we presumed. This was, needless to say, a BLAST for kids and adults alike – all puns intended.
05/29 Direct Link
This road that wound around the neighborhood’s bowels and paralleled the creek as it snaked between this and another development – went directly into Mangosteen Elementary school’s parking lot.
It was indeed an era of innocence, or seemingly so, as the Vietnam war raged with its TET offensive and college students were gunned down by tin soldiers on Kent State University’s campus. Davey H and his playmates played on, remaining ignorant of the horrors being splashed in jungles so very far abroad.
Now back to the ever-mundane present once again; seeking comfort, avoiding pain. Davey is pleased to from cursing refrain.
05/30 Direct Link
He also reports that he’s hot on the heels of his new quiet wheels. Well, he is faring with one new wheel bearing that thankfully no longer squeals. So what do? Drive. Make appointment. Arrive. That’s the ointment. Well, sure that new bearing was good enough but the ride, if you’re caring, is still pretty rough. Davey bets a hundred bucks that he gets it: driving sucks. Furthermore, as Davey writes, he does abhor getting in fights. Imbroglios count toward that as well.
 
Rock & Roll blares from the car radio as the fingers hit the knob to lower the volume.
05/31 Direct Link
This would not have happened in the case of the late grate Mr. Blosky. No. He LOVED loud-ass rock. In fact, he would blast AC/DC until his speakers separated cones from coils if given the chance. Well, today, Davey could have been early, but a glance at the set-fast-on-purpose clock prompted the illusion of having ample time. Big mistake. Historically, it has been far too easy to get time complacent.

Elsewhere in the always dreadful news, a tenuous cease fire in Syria is ‘under threat’. So will it be jettisoned? You bet. Don’t wanna hear ‘bout Syria? We hear ya.