Taomeow

Definitely. Although the closest thing to a saree I've ever worn was a Queen of the Night outfit in a school show. Thinking back to that thingie of flowing black silk and gauze, I can imagine that riding a motorcycle while wearing it would indeed have required a saree guard, plus a couple bodyguards.

Pray for my country, for Bezos, Soros and Gates to meet their maker. To meet their maker, AI chatbots go online, humans go to war.

I wanted to buy a medicine for off-label use that is FDA approved and not a controlled substance but is by prescription only here, while it's OTC in some less-pharma-captured countries (not less corrupt, mind you, just differently corrupt.) Made the mistake of trying to buy it from India. I signed up via my computer. They wanted my phone number for verification. I made the mistake of giving it. I am now getting offers from a dozen sellers from India every day -- by email, by phone, and on WhatsApp. Getting rid of those messages is very boring. And I'm reluctant to buy from any of them because I don't know which, if any, aren't going to scam me.

Know these? I saw them for the first time last year washed onto all of our beaches -- thousands of them. As the summer progressed, they dried up and became indistinguishable from pieces of plastic littering the shore -- except unlike plastic, they eventually disintegrate with no harm to the environment. And now they're back. Some people claim they sting. I try not to step on them so I'm not sure it's true.

On one of those very rare (once in several years) occasions when I get what I call dream-visions, I was visited by a jellyfish UFO. It appeared in the sky, swimming through the air the way jellyfish swim in the water. It was a biotechnological thing, alive and sentient but also a vehicle. I won't tell the whole story (I may have at the time it happened, years ago), but I get a jolt of recognition every time I see pictures or video of some rare jellyfish from the deep ocean, with lights all over and everything looking similar to that magnificent thing from my vision, only simpler.

I went down to the DaoBums tried to read or write a post no one could read or write any Bad Gateway took the host

Often sloppy, but not because of butter -- because of the method I use to make it. You have to watch it closely or it will suddenly foam up over the edge and deposit slop all over the stove. Cleaning up after this kind of accident is part of life -- happens roughly once a week.

One of my methods. Not daily but used often enough. I seldom want any carbs for breakfast, and hardly ever more than one egg. Preceded by two cups of coffee with butter. (Yes, with butter. What the popularizers of this approach call "bulletproof coffee." No milk or cream in my coffee, ever, but the idea to add butter was revolutionary and I never looked back. Of course it's unsalted butter. Irish.)

Looks like something that will take more time than shakshuka, or at least as much, if you make it from scratch. I would make something close out of leftover rice and chicken from the dinner the night before to make it quick. A somewhat similar dish I like is Katsudon. https://thewoksoflife.com/katsudon/ But that's for dinner. And the way they served it in one of the Japanese restaurants I patroned before the lockdowns put it out of business, it had no slop. Speaking generally, one of the reasons I like Japanese cuisine is that for the most part it doesn't have much slop at all. You can see things clearly and know what it is that you're eating.

Sloppy use of words is both the cause and the effect of sloppy thinking. And obscenity is the crutch of inarticulate motherfuckers.

How people like their eggs is another can of... well, eggs. I'm not surprised that in the Gulliver's Travels they went to war over which end of the soft-boiled egg to crack -- and that was just a minor point, you should see the way cooking time and the initial temperature of water etc. are sometimes discussed by egg devotees. Scorched ground. I don't make soft-boiled eggs anymore in mourning for my antique English porcelain egg cup which didn't survive a fall on the kitchen floor. It was so pretty, it turned every egg into a special event. I can't replace it with just any egg cup, and the likes of that one I can't find at a reasonable price. The sloppy version I sometimes make is known as shakshuka. Tomatoes, hot and sweet peppers, onions, garlic, cheese, herbs, spices create a base in which eggs gently poach. But this one is for when I'm inspired -- it takes too long for a regular breakfast meal.

Broken toes and dreams... damn, Hexagram twenty-three takes no prisoners.

House arrest

Vladimir Borovikovsky, Portrait of Maria Lopukhina, 1797 Maiden name Tolstoy. She was an aunt of Leo Tolstoy's, but she died before he was born, at the age of 23. One of her many siblings was known to the aristocratic society as Tolstoy the American, due to the fact that he participated in a famous circumnavigation expedition of Admiral Krusenstern in the early 19th century and behaved in such an unruly fashion that the admiral left him on the Pacific shore of Kamchatka, whence the young hooligan made it to America. He returned to St. Petersburg a few years later sporting Native American tattoos and dances-with-wolves-like stories. I like finding out stuff about old portraits and realistic paintings -- all of a sudden Time itself unfolds its endless scrolls, its endless stories. Earlier in the thread I posted a picture of Cardinal Richelieu and his cats. There was no mention in The Three Musketeers of the fact that Richelieu, the villain of that story, was famous for his love of cats... If there was, I'm sure some of the sympathies of the readers would have been with the cardinal, not with the musketeers who, now that I think about it, behaved like entitled brats throughout the novel.