What do you get the man who has everything?
Start with a box of macaroni and cheese for 99 cents plus tax:
"I'm going to make a whole big pot of spaghetti, and then use the cheese packet to season it all...
I've always thought that macaroni and cheese comes out too thick with cheese when you make it the regular way. I'll just add some butter and some salt and pepper, and pour in a can of stewed tomatoes; plus, maybe add some hot sauce. I wanted some mushrooms, but you guy's are out of mushrooms back there..."
"$4.58."
"That's one of my 'frugal living' secrets though; using the cheese packet from the cheapest macaroni and cheese to season a whole pot of pasta..."
"Next!"
And, of course, a can of cat food and a cup of coffee at The Quartermaster.
I paid 77 cents on a can that I could have gotten for 66 at the dollar store. That was a waste of almost one percent of the 15 bucks that I had made that Saturday night, playing from about 11:15 PM until about 1:30 AM.
I bought a 50 cent lottery ticket for the "Pick 3," upon which I will apply my new strategy of willing the number into existence.
I had been taking a passive approach to the Pick 3; trying to glean what the number was going to be, as if the number was totally outside my control and was going to be what it was going to be, through its own volition. I would look at the colors around me, some of them suggesting colors, like green for 5; and I would keep my ears open for clues to what number was coming.
This has been all wrong.
Now, I play a number of my choice; then I use the dynamics of my mental energy to make that Pick 3 number come into existence. This has been a breakthrough for me.
This first night that I decided to play this way; instead of holding the ticket to my forehead and going into my trance while the line of customers behind me complained; I just chose my number, "604," jotted it on the play sheet and handed it to the Ethiopian cashier.
"You are playing 604?!?" he asked, with a degree of excitement.
"Yes, I'm going to use the power of my mind to..."
"Tonight's number was 406, you didn't see tonight's number?"
"No, I just picked 604; but this is a sign that I'm doing things right, now..."
The Ethiopian cashiers at The Unique Grocery are of the Muslim types, whom I have encountered before. They don't drink or smoke, and live at something akin to a Seventh Day Adventist or Mormon level of purity.
And it is evident that they live governed by some principles that help them to remain upbeat and joyful, even though they are working probably 90 hours per week each -I go there at 10 AM sometimes and it is the same one behind the register as was at 2 AM, type of thing- and the rumor is that they each make only 5 dollars per day in cash; but are given free room and board in apartments that sit right over the Unique Grocery; and that, after something like 5 years in this arrangement, those Ethiopians, who will still be shy of the age of 30 will get their own stores to manage, etc. and will be well on their way to realizing the American Dream; having had the sensibility to realize that nothing comes except by hard work on this earth; and to have joyfully and patiently dispatched their duties, giddy almost, as if what they had had in Ethiopia paled by comparison to this land of plenty, where they can stand behind a register for 14 hours each day, before retreating to their apartments, indoors and with a water spigot where all you have to do is turn the knob and you don't even need pliers, and the water comes out, fresher than the Nile in springtime.
There are certain religions whose devotees get ahead in life, simply stated.
Of course, if you devotedly follow the path of abstinence, purity of thought, and tithing; you will eventually reap the rewards of going crazy with boredom because you're not anesthetizing your mind with any kind of substance, and deciding to pour your energy into a business venture; as happy over the increase that the 10 percent that you tithe will see with your success, as you are over any of the other trappings of it. There are those religions.
Catholicism is no proof against a man winding up living under a wharf with a black caped night heron as a pet, by the way; while on the subject of religion...
All that being said; the Ethiopians gamble.
They are some scratching fools when it comes to scratch off tickets. Either that, or they happen to wait until around 2 AM each morning -the time I usually show up- to scratch away and get it all out of their systems for the rest of the day.
I passed along some wisdom to them. I suggested that they wait until such a time that a customer comes in and buys a large number of scratch off tickets. If he is like a lot of such gamblers, he will scratch the tickets right in front of them; hoping to hit it big and be able to claim the money immediately. He will most likely win "a free ticket" on some of them; and will likewise want to be able to redeem them right there, and then roll the dice again.
"Wait for some guy to come in and buy like 25 of the number 12 game, the Barrel of Monkeys one or whatever, and then, if he laments: 'Nothing!' and throws them all in the trash on his way out; without even coming to you to redeem free tickets, then you buy the next 25 tickets of the same game. That way, you will be doubling your odds against the system..." I had told them.
They seemed to see the logic in this, but maybe not, in their esteem, the wisdom of it. It might be considered against their religion to do something like that; kind of like cheating, perhaps?
They seem to just want to take their chances, like everyone else, and share equal chances in having blessings bestowed upon them by Allah, or whatever the god of Ethiopia is. I think they might actually be Christians...
178
So, tonight is the first night that I'm going to apply the power of my mind to the Pick 3 number at 10 PM, when it is drawn. I am going to make it come 178 tonight. I realize that I am interfering with a lot of the lives of people in Louisiana who play the Pick 3, I mean, what about some nice Louisianan, who didn't play 178 and who, thus, isn't going to win, who "might could" really use the money?
Or what about some dip-shit who plays 178 who is going to use the money to buy date rape drugs or something with it?
I hereby take responsibility for all of the consequences that are a result of my tampering with the Louisiana Pick 3 lottery.
So, tonight, the number will be 178, and I will have turned 50 cents into $249.50.
This is good, because the balance on my Visa Octapharma plastic plasma debit card is still negative 91 cents; more than 48 hours after having been drained of my plasma.
I would potentially have become livid had that 25 bucks been the only barrier between myself and abject poverty.
I had an unexpired all day bus pass going for me, though, and was able to ride back home from the place; and am now glad that I went out; weak and dehydrated; to busk and make the same amount of 25 dollars that I have, so far, been screwed out of.
Patriots 33, Raiders 8
I kind of "knew" the Raiders were going to wind up with a weird point total. I figured the game would end with them having like 12 points, or 18. I guess I'm getting tuned up for making the Pick 3 come "178" tonight, practicing a bit on the football game...
I could have watched the game somewhere, rather than come here to the Uxi Duxi to blog, but I sacrificed, for you the blog readers.
Brian Hudson
came by the Lilly Pad last night, along with a friend he had just met, perhaps.
I didn't know it was he; I was playing with my head down, and/or eyes closed at the time he and his friend approached.
The friend sat down on Lilly's stoop. This kind of told me that he was going to listen to at least one song. I had better make it good.
I was just about warmed up at the time, having about 7 or 8 bucks in my basket, 2 of which I had started the thing out with. I did one of my better original songs, "Her Thigh Said Sublime."
My emphasis of late has been on enunciation of words. I find it even helps to sing more on pitch when I'm trying to pronounce each syllable, as if I'm trying to communicate the exact meaning of each sentence to a person standing across the street.
This is something that can make players in a theater troop sound kind of stilted when on stage; like they're using their "play voice" instead of just talking normally; but it apparently works to their benefit; and I find it helps when busking. It could just be that by focusing upon diction, it helps the rest of the music exist in the background of unconsciousness; the same way I can play "Carry Me Back To Ol' Virginny" more accurately while trying to make up words to it at the same time, than if I had nothing but the results of my trying to play the thing to listen to.
The second of the figures had positioned himself to my immediate left, but had the relaxed posture of a person not intending to snatch my backpack and run off. After the song ended he put a dollar or two on top of the 7 or 8 in the basket, at which point I looked up to see the face of none other than Brian Hudson.
He introduced me to his friend, whose name I guessed wrongly to be "Jeff" (I like to try to guess people's names) and whose real name, I now can't recall.
It had been pretty much a total surprise to see Brian. He and his friend had been looking for a place to eat. I suggested the world's best hamburger for 7 dollars at The Clover Grill.
A Fowl Mood?
It is Sunday now. The Patriots seem to be slaughtering The Raiders in a game in Mexico City.
Since the stadium in Mexico City is situated something like 7,000 feet above sea level, The Patriots, whose game last week was in Denver, Colorado; remained in that city this past week, further acclimating themselves to thin air. The Raiders stayed in Oakland, breathing smog. They never stood a chance against the altitude ready team from New England.
Next on the calendar is Thanksgiving. If Lilly doesn't invite me to spend it with her and the girls, then I will be going to Howard Westra's in Gretna. It's almost a shame to be missing out on all of the food give-aways going on in various parts of the city for the homeless. I could make a few stops and return home with whole turkeys and other foodstuffs. But, of course, I would run into the likes of Leslie Thompson and that might really put me in a "fowl" mood.
Start with a box of macaroni and cheese for 99 cents plus tax:
I've always thought that macaroni and cheese comes out too thick with cheese when you make it the regular way. I'll just add some butter and some salt and pepper, and pour in a can of stewed tomatoes; plus, maybe add some hot sauce. I wanted some mushrooms, but you guy's are out of mushrooms back there..."
"$4.58."
"That's one of my 'frugal living' secrets though; using the cheese packet from the cheapest macaroni and cheese to season a whole pot of pasta..."
"Next!"
And, of course, a can of cat food and a cup of coffee at The Quartermaster.
I paid 77 cents on a can that I could have gotten for 66 at the dollar store. That was a waste of almost one percent of the 15 bucks that I had made that Saturday night, playing from about 11:15 PM until about 1:30 AM.
I bought a 50 cent lottery ticket for the "Pick 3," upon which I will apply my new strategy of willing the number into existence.
I had been taking a passive approach to the Pick 3; trying to glean what the number was going to be, as if the number was totally outside my control and was going to be what it was going to be, through its own volition. I would look at the colors around me, some of them suggesting colors, like green for 5; and I would keep my ears open for clues to what number was coming.
This has been all wrong.
Now, I play a number of my choice; then I use the dynamics of my mental energy to make that Pick 3 number come into existence. This has been a breakthrough for me.
This first night that I decided to play this way; instead of holding the ticket to my forehead and going into my trance while the line of customers behind me complained; I just chose my number, "604," jotted it on the play sheet and handed it to the Ethiopian cashier.
"You are playing 604?!?" he asked, with a degree of excitement.
"Yes, I'm going to use the power of my mind to..."
"Tonight's number was 406, you didn't see tonight's number?"
"No, I just picked 604; but this is a sign that I'm doing things right, now..."
The Ethiopian cashiers at The Unique Grocery are of the Muslim types, whom I have encountered before. They don't drink or smoke, and live at something akin to a Seventh Day Adventist or Mormon level of purity.
And it is evident that they live governed by some principles that help them to remain upbeat and joyful, even though they are working probably 90 hours per week each -I go there at 10 AM sometimes and it is the same one behind the register as was at 2 AM, type of thing- and the rumor is that they each make only 5 dollars per day in cash; but are given free room and board in apartments that sit right over the Unique Grocery; and that, after something like 5 years in this arrangement, those Ethiopians, who will still be shy of the age of 30 will get their own stores to manage, etc. and will be well on their way to realizing the American Dream; having had the sensibility to realize that nothing comes except by hard work on this earth; and to have joyfully and patiently dispatched their duties, giddy almost, as if what they had had in Ethiopia paled by comparison to this land of plenty, where they can stand behind a register for 14 hours each day, before retreating to their apartments, indoors and with a water spigot where all you have to do is turn the knob and you don't even need pliers, and the water comes out, fresher than the Nile in springtime.
 |
| Ethiopians Set Sail For Jobs In New Orleans, La. |
There are certain religions whose devotees get ahead in life, simply stated.
Of course, if you devotedly follow the path of abstinence, purity of thought, and tithing; you will eventually reap the rewards of going crazy with boredom because you're not anesthetizing your mind with any kind of substance, and deciding to pour your energy into a business venture; as happy over the increase that the 10 percent that you tithe will see with your success, as you are over any of the other trappings of it. There are those religions.
Catholicism is no proof against a man winding up living under a wharf with a black caped night heron as a pet, by the way; while on the subject of religion...
All that being said; the Ethiopians gamble.
They are some scratching fools when it comes to scratch off tickets. Either that, or they happen to wait until around 2 AM each morning -the time I usually show up- to scratch away and get it all out of their systems for the rest of the day.
I passed along some wisdom to them. I suggested that they wait until such a time that a customer comes in and buys a large number of scratch off tickets. If he is like a lot of such gamblers, he will scratch the tickets right in front of them; hoping to hit it big and be able to claim the money immediately. He will most likely win "a free ticket" on some of them; and will likewise want to be able to redeem them right there, and then roll the dice again.
"Wait for some guy to come in and buy like 25 of the number 12 game, the Barrel of Monkeys one or whatever, and then, if he laments: 'Nothing!' and throws them all in the trash on his way out; without even coming to you to redeem free tickets, then you buy the next 25 tickets of the same game. That way, you will be doubling your odds against the system..." I had told them.
They seemed to see the logic in this, but maybe not, in their esteem, the wisdom of it. It might be considered against their religion to do something like that; kind of like cheating, perhaps?
They seem to just want to take their chances, like everyone else, and share equal chances in having blessings bestowed upon them by Allah, or whatever the god of Ethiopia is. I think they might actually be Christians...
178
So, tonight is the first night that I'm going to apply the power of my mind to the Pick 3 number at 10 PM, when it is drawn. I am going to make it come 178 tonight. I realize that I am interfering with a lot of the lives of people in Louisiana who play the Pick 3, I mean, what about some nice Louisianan, who didn't play 178 and who, thus, isn't going to win, who "might could" really use the money?
Or what about some dip-shit who plays 178 who is going to use the money to buy date rape drugs or something with it?
I hereby take responsibility for all of the consequences that are a result of my tampering with the Louisiana Pick 3 lottery.
So, tonight, the number will be 178, and I will have turned 50 cents into $249.50.
This is good, because the balance on my Visa Octapharma plastic plasma debit card is still negative 91 cents; more than 48 hours after having been drained of my plasma.
I would potentially have become livid had that 25 bucks been the only barrier between myself and abject poverty.
I had an unexpired all day bus pass going for me, though, and was able to ride back home from the place; and am now glad that I went out; weak and dehydrated; to busk and make the same amount of 25 dollars that I have, so far, been screwed out of.
Patriots 33, Raiders 8
I kind of "knew" the Raiders were going to wind up with a weird point total. I figured the game would end with them having like 12 points, or 18. I guess I'm getting tuned up for making the Pick 3 come "178" tonight, practicing a bit on the football game...
I could have watched the game somewhere, rather than come here to the Uxi Duxi to blog, but I sacrificed, for you the blog readers.
Brian Hudson
I didn't know it was he; I was playing with my head down, and/or eyes closed at the time he and his friend approached.
The friend sat down on Lilly's stoop. This kind of told me that he was going to listen to at least one song. I had better make it good.
I was just about warmed up at the time, having about 7 or 8 bucks in my basket, 2 of which I had started the thing out with. I did one of my better original songs, "Her Thigh Said Sublime."
My emphasis of late has been on enunciation of words. I find it even helps to sing more on pitch when I'm trying to pronounce each syllable, as if I'm trying to communicate the exact meaning of each sentence to a person standing across the street.
This is something that can make players in a theater troop sound kind of stilted when on stage; like they're using their "play voice" instead of just talking normally; but it apparently works to their benefit; and I find it helps when busking. It could just be that by focusing upon diction, it helps the rest of the music exist in the background of unconsciousness; the same way I can play "Carry Me Back To Ol' Virginny" more accurately while trying to make up words to it at the same time, than if I had nothing but the results of my trying to play the thing to listen to.
 |
| Colin back in town |
He introduced me to his friend, whose name I guessed wrongly to be "Jeff" (I like to try to guess people's names) and whose real name, I now can't recall.
It had been pretty much a total surprise to see Brian. He and his friend had been looking for a place to eat. I suggested the world's best hamburger for 7 dollars at The Clover Grill.
A Fowl Mood?
It is Sunday now. The Patriots seem to be slaughtering The Raiders in a game in Mexico City.
Since the stadium in Mexico City is situated something like 7,000 feet above sea level, The Patriots, whose game last week was in Denver, Colorado; remained in that city this past week, further acclimating themselves to thin air. The Raiders stayed in Oakland, breathing smog. They never stood a chance against the altitude ready team from New England.
"Hey, buddy! Have a drink; and another; and another!!"
Next on the calendar is Thanksgiving. If Lilly doesn't invite me to spend it with her and the girls, then I will be going to Howard Westra's in Gretna. It's almost a shame to be missing out on all of the food give-aways going on in various parts of the city for the homeless. I could make a few stops and return home with whole turkeys and other foodstuffs. But, of course, I would run into the likes of Leslie Thompson and that might really put me in a "fowl" mood.
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