How to do Things, Lesson 1: Break into a secure building

Stand beside security door, wearing new polo shirt and khakis.
Pretend to speak to Important Person about security issues.
Ignore people.
When some mindless gump exists building, drop to tie shoe as you talk on phone.
Place rock (small, 1 inch max) inside door frame before door shuts.
Stand.  Keep “talking” on phone.
Open door when clear. Kick rock away as you do.
Commit malevolence.

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Sci Fi Writing Challenge

I generally don’t read sci Fi. I watch it, it’s fun, it’s flashy, it’s interesting, but without the visual shooty gunny robotty effects most sci fi is just political or romantic or interpersonal drama. As I would never READ a political, romantic or interpersonal drama (reading of fiction should be entertaining escapism, not reliving someone else’s problems) I find sci Fi books akin to sugar and flavour free unsweetened jello with a dollop of whipped cream.

The above being rambled, I have set myself a challenge. I will write in summary a three volume sci fi mega trilogy in one page of writing.

Can you tell I am bored?

My Hand

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For the better (or worse have you) of three years, I have suffered from what is commonly (or clinically) known as Trigger Finger.  My middle finger, commonly known as the Bird or F-You Digit, locks up. In recent months, after.multiple fateful attempts to repair it via steroidal injections, it merely REALLY hurts most of the time, locking only occasionally.

This is not fun…

So at most recent visit to el doctor specialista I agreed to consider then agreed to proceed with surgery. I’ve only ever had surgery twice in my life if you don’t count stitches in my head (no anesthetic) when a noob soccer player jumped too soon on a corner and came down on my head teeth first. My first surgery was when I had tonsils out when I was four (strapped down to kitchen table, whisky to kill the pain it being the 1800s..I lie). My second occurred when I broke my wrist in five places, again, soccer, and the surgeon knocked me out then manually reconfigured the bones, implanted a tracking device into my skull for the government (I think) then cast me and sent me home. I have henceforth been surgery free with about 16 years of only occasional broken ribs and messed up knees and ankles that were healed in the manly way of the Three A’s: Avoidance, Advil and Apathy.

Yes, I have a bit of a limp.
Yes, my one ankle overpronates now.
Yes, when a storm is a brewing, I start saying “Yaar” a lot and oh me joints they do ache and I need the rum…Yaar

So, what the Hell. He is going to slit open my hand, chip away at bone, slit open sheath around tendon, clean out scar tissue etcetera. Joy.

He says “it will hurt for two to three weeks”. Online comments range from “yeah it hurts” to “you will want to kill people it hurts so much”. Again, joy.

My hopes are that the locking will stop. That I will be pain free. That I can after healing again try to learn the ukulele. Maybe, just maybe, that he accidentally damages my hand beyond repair and I end up with a Luke Skywalker model as a replacement..

I will not watch the surgery and if the doctor asks I will say no. I will however one handedly take and post pictures for your enjoyment when it is all over and I am drugged up and belligerent.

More belligerent.

Joy