I used to be an Ectomorph.

And that’s not like saying,  “Oh,  I used to be a heroin addict”,  but just the same,  it’s been a long,  long time since I’ve actually seen my ribs.  

I’m pretty sure I still have them. Otherwise well,  it would be hard to sit up I suppose.   They’re in there somewhere.  Fortunately the restrictions of my belt fall well below where my ribs used to end.  The more accurate word should be “constriction” though.  Just saying. 

I look at skinny people now and think, “Ah,  those were the days”.   No doubt young ladies think that if I’m looking at them, I must be just some old lecherous dude (although I wouldn’t completely rule that out) but it mostly has to do with seeing someone living in that carefree “Calories?  We don’t worry about no stinking calories!”  stage of one’s life.   *sigh*

Travelling Companion is presently labouring over something or other that she wants to figure out before tomorrow,  and she just used the word,  “shrinkage”,  which I thought was a bit odd.   Am I talking to myself?  Actually,  “shrinkage”  is some sort of business term.   That was just a coincidence.  *phew*

 

I’m never 100% sure when exactly I’m being spoken to,  but I decided a long time ago that,  unless there’s “eye contact”,  any and all alleged communication is “null and void”.   If there was no third party to “bear witness”,  a recording or other physical proof,  then it never happened.  

Besides,  if I thought I had to actually pay attention,  I’m not sure what help I could be.  I mean,  when I hear,  “Oh, I saved that file,  now where did it go?”  Or,  “Oh shoot, I just printed that at work”  or when printing here at home has been sorted out,  I then hear,  “Oops,  that’s 37 pages!”   

Do we even have 37 blank pages?  Better check.   Thankfully there’s that little feature called,  “pause printing”.

I just put in the earphones and go to Youtube, or play a music file.   Just sitting quietly here in my little bubble.

 

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There was a suggestion recently by way of a comment that maybe I should have a “Bob’s yer Uncle”  cooking blog?   I think the short answer of “NO” will be a good start.  I’m barely hanging on here tooth and nail as it is.    There’s enough useless cr*p in blog land.  The guilt of contributing more cr*p to what I could very well be summarily convicted of adding up to this point would be too much to bear I’m afraid.   Not going to happen. 

 

Just go to allrecipes.com.  There’s something there for everyone. 

Thankfully,  foolishness is not an indictable offence,  or I’d already be in a heap of trouble.  Can you imagine?  “Excuse me sir,  but this is the “no stupidity zone”,  and I’m afraid you’ll be getting a citation.” 

 

Speaking of which,  I received a reply to my email that I sent off to my son-in-law with the subject line, “no words”. 

 

This was a photo that was taken while back, but it fits.  It looks as though my nephew Greg on the left is saying,  “Did you hear that Uncle Bob actually did some computer maintenance on his own?”   

And then you can see the response:

 

And that ladies and gentlemen,  would be your measured dose of foolishness for today.

 

Thanks for stopping by.

 

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