First and foremost, check out this egregious shit.

the yellow m and m character is wearing a ziggy stardust lighning bolt on his face like the iconic david bowie photo

Maybe Iman needs the money and sold Bowie's trademarked stuff to cover her NYC rent for April?

traditional bloggy crap

After Monday night, waking up at least five times from the pain in my left foot, I am really tired.

At the moment I'm wondering if I have enough time to sort out my thoughts, perhaps synthesize a few ideas which may be of some merit for my peers or society in general.

On March 1st I drove three hundred miles. From Toms River, to Bloomfield, down to LBI, then Mays Landing. Turns out I won a speeding ticket. On the 15th, I was approved for a credit card which is going to help my credit score and mitigate the hit from hiring a lawyer to mitigate the fallout of a fucking speeding ticket. Wound up choosing a lawyer because he sent a postcard rather than a letter in an envelope. The twenty-something envelopes I received from vultures wound up in the trash. This postcard would've gone in, except when I threw it into the can it fell out. Tuesday morning I saw it atop my lime-themed Hawai'ian shirt, put it on my laptop to remind me to call when I returned home from work.

My foot was bearable on Tuesday and I completed everything on my plate. I hope my foot's getting better because this is unbearable. Mind you it's a damn sight more bearable than the near-rupture of my right Achilles tendon.
One thing I noticed is when my direct report sends me my work packet for the day, the jobs aren't noteworthy. Yet when the title searcher manager decides I don't have enough on my plate, he sends the orneriest jobs ever. My direct report confided that a particularly hairy job sent to me by the title searcher manager was in its own special folder to be subbed out to another title searcher. Reckon the title searcher manager means well, but today's job went back to 1970 (give or take a few years) and didn't recite a prior deed. So I grantee'd the record owner at the time and discovered from 1931 to 1960 he had 101 real estate acquisitions. I'd have to yank 100 books, peruse them and determine if it's part of the chain of title. Searching the grantee indices between 1961 and 1973 revealed this nincompoop had his own section in the index.
LOL, no. I emailed my findings to the outside worker email feeling confident this would be taken off my plate on Wednesday.

On Wednesday I'm heading to the podiatrist and see what they say about my left foot. Not the Daniel Day Lewis film but my literal left foot.

Once I finished cooking and began eating, I started losing energy and just want to sleep. Maybe smoke a bowl before hitting the proverbial hay.

In other news, I'm watching Rich Hall's The Dirty South documentary on YouTube. It's breddy gud. Check it out for yourself.

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