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My cat P. had a cold.

First time he contracted a human virus. He didn't contract my corona infection a month ago, but the common cold rhino type from last week.

He had three bad days, could hardly breathe through his nose, but thank god, there was no secondary infection or coughing involved. He was sneezing like a world champion though.

He is such a strong and tough cat (partly Norwegian Forest Cat, which makes the difference really), 17 years young, and got through this infection like a hero.

There were mornings when i feared i'd find him lying dead in his carrier box (his hiding place in times of trouble). But no, every morning when I shouted his name (he is almost deaf), he replied with a feeble miaow and then came crawling out of his box.

His nose has cleared up during the day, and he can now breathe much easier.

He is also eating again, even the kibble. which is great. I had to force feed him for two days with some renal emergency liquid, which i hate to do, but he felt better after the procedures.

Oh my, he is even licking up the tuna broth I gave him at 6 pm. Had to throw four servings away because he wouldn't even sniff at it.

So, things are looking pretty good at the moment.
 
My pair of yellow shoes has recently reminded me of how very sick I am of these goody-goody folks here in this small town where i live and also work.

This had been different a few years ago, when I still had to commute daily by train to the big city nearby, but working here as well as living has changed everything and opened my eyes the hard way.

Well, I was riding my bike, wearing the above-mentioned yellow shoes and a blue jeans, and noticed that folks would look at me straight away, up and down, which I hate, their faces strangely overflowing with artificial elatedness, joy and surprise, a welcome nod here and there, faces that tried to express mutual consent and acceptance. I felt recognized. Something I usually don't see in these faces. I don't have to tell you that I found this all quite irritating and was wondering what was going on and if something was wrong with me.

It later dawned on me that they were actually staring at my shoes and pants, and as these were yellow at the botton and blue above that, they thought I had dressed up that way to show my solidarity with the Ukraine, which I hadn't.

I hate seeing all the atrocious horrors and pain caused by the Russians in the Ukraine, but I am also very sick of these utterly folkloristic professions of sympathy by people who definetely have no idea about what is going on there in the Ukraine or anywhere in the world or who could tell you anything about the back story of this war, but they only do what everyone does, supporting the declared good ones and hating the bad ones. This reminds me very much of what happened when the vaccinations were approved: corona is bad, vaccination is good, now please everyone, get vaccinated. No more research and individual opinion forming necessary, just following the herd. And if you don't, then you must be an irresponsible arsehole. It's exactly these people who are now planning their sweet summer holidays in Italy, who spend their weekends in Berlin shopping, and who complain about higher gas prices.

The past two and a half years have made me very ungracious with these folks here, who, in their preemptive obedience, are always on the lookout for taking sides with the declared good ones. They wouldnt be able to be an outsider for a day, because this involves thinking and integrity. They would break and crumble.

It's time to go.
 
I was going to watch suede in Stockholm last week but then life and work got in the way.

The set list was BRILLIANT. They played Coming Up in its entirety, then a selection of greatest hits and then Life Is Golden as an encore. They rarely play Life Is Golden live. God, I love that song so much.

Sad I missed it.

 
Björn would like to make a book recommendation: "The Perfume" by Patrick Süskind - In the slums of eighteenth-century France, the infant Jean-Baptiste Grenouille is born with one sublime gift—an absolute sense of smell. As a boy, he lives to decipher the odors of Paris, and apprentices himself to a prominent perfumer who teaches him the ancient art of mixing precious oils and herbs. But Grenouille’s genius is such that he is not satisfied to stop there, and he becomes obsessed with capturing the smells of objects such as brass doorknobs and fresh-cut wood. Then one day he catches a hint of a scent that will drive him on an ever-more-terrifying quest to create the “ultimate perfume”—the scent of a beautiful young virgin. Told with dazzling narrative brilliance, The Perfume is a hauntingly powerful tale of murder and sensual depravity.

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oh shit, do i remind you of grenouille when i say things like that about neil?! :oops:

bun bun, tell Bjorn, that i HAVE read it!! AND ive seen the movie (with the delightful and dreamy ben whishaw!!). he was right to recommend it though: it is right up my alley! if i didnt have forty books waiting to be read, i'd probably give it another read! tell Bjorn thanks though, and that his recommendations are always welcome because i know he only reads QUALITY books!!
 
I was going to watch suede in Stockholm last week but then life and work got in the way.

The set list was BRILLIANT. They played Coming Up in its entirety, then a selection of greatest hits and then Life Is Golden as an encore. They rarely play Life Is Golden live. God, I love that song so much.

Sad I missed it.


aw too bad! i wouldnt have missed it for the world! of course, you've seen them before (AND met dreamyneil!!)

life is golden is so great!!!

Carve your name in my tender skin with your beautiful words

uh oh, hope that mingey old slag Ms. NOW isnt around or she'll be like "those lyrics mean NOTHING!":lbf:
 
aw too bad! i wouldnt have missed it for the world! of course, you've seen them before (AND met dreamyneil!!)

life is golden is so great!!!

Carve your name in my tender skin with your beautiful words

uh oh, hope that mingey old slag Ms. NOW isnt around or she'll be like "those lyrics mean NOTHING!":lbf:

I know it’s a bad thing to talk about song lyrics. Who do I think I am? I’m such a mean girl. Really, I should tell people about my needy minge or latest shit, or even better tell someone to go kill themselves to fit in with the nice and good people here.
 
Kitchen's clogged up. Two plumbers working on it at the moment.
I've never understood the sexual connotations of that, but when you tell ppl that you had plumbers around, everyone immediately goes hahahaha or aaaaaaand? how was it??
 
p1 - Kopie.jpg


Darling, I hug all legs, oh.
He just got through another delirium phase and is now sleeping, and I am also pretty tired. He gets them every week now. This one lasted for three hours or so. This will be a quiet night coz these phases seem to exhaust him quite a lot. Tonight he woke me up at 3 am because the food he wished for wasn't available any longer. I don't care as long as he stays alive and is feeling hungry which is a sign of life and health.
 
If only he was plaing Glastonbury in June, he could meet Go_A, and unvaccinated Brits could see him again.
'Playing' Glastonbury, I mean. Sorry, I just saw a magpie kill a blackbird, and I'm very upset and so I'm having some wine.
 
I’m kinda bummed i didn’t catch Moz at the Fremont in SLO. Those are my old college stomping grounds. I had McCartney on Friday then the whole Cruel World weekend. It was too many shows I’m getting too old for this driving around shit.
 
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