Its May and the weirdness has been extended. Last week, Governor Funbags extended the stay at home rules until the end of May. And is being sued for it. Now believe me, I can sympathize with being sued for something one believes in. In the last post I spoke about the Paradox of the stay at home mandate, that being the concept being excessive, yet necessary. I don't think my opinion (those are still legal right?) has changed. Indeed, the cases and deaths have tapered off, the high water mark may have been reached, despite the news/media stressing about over 100 deaths the past 24 hours along with some raging psychotic rubbing his nose on a store employee and a security guard shot and killed because his wife was told to wear a mask. Guess the demographics there on that last one. Ho ho ho, just kidding. Fear and Ratings in Wayne County. I could grab a photographer and get you 100 non-corona deaths in Detroit by 3 o'clock. That is the "excessive" point of view. The "necessary" flip side is that if we ease off too early there is the risk of a spike in cases. That damn Paradox. If I had to choose, I fall into the "just extend it" party, by only by a hair, because of the safety of others. I don't claim to be invulnerable, but the one thing I insist on is that I can't be croaked except when I give the word (great fucking line; no jinxies; spoiler alert). I can't wait until I can get a good steak, or see a bad Star Wars movie in a theater, or fly in an airplane with a bunch of total assholes. I miss that. But I also don't want to worry about the health of my senior family members or neighbors. That damn Paradox.
I am down to 125lbs, which is still UFC/MMA cut-weight in case I wanted a new career because being (the best/only) local freelance writer/journalist has dried up and I am indigent with not a penny to my name. I don't want this to be a sob story, though. I don't, nor ever will, have a Paypal or CashMe. I remain ever grateful for my friends and family supporting me in being gainfully unemployed. By the way, did you see that Electric 6 is hawking a Paypal "in these tough times"? Oh, fuck off. And lets not even get into those lazy pig fuckers [redacted times 7]. Alright, I'm getting off the tracks here. The reason for this post is the positive feedback for my first Coronavirus photo blog (Coronavirus and the Super Bowl). Quite a few wanted a Part 2. Sequels usually tend to suck, but I'll give it a shot. It'll suck.
Yesterday, I had Mexican carry out from a recently re-opened restaurant along with my first Summer Shandy of 2020 (I've had five since). It was among the top 3 highlights of 2020, along with Elizabeth First's visit with cool drink, good talk, and [redacted], and the Boneyard match at WrestleMania between The Undertaker and AJ Styles. My mom sent my cats a birthday card with a scratch-off. Won $50. Instead of using it for cat treats I said "Fuck it", and decided to leave the JCMsTown Compound for the first time in forever and meet the people, document the current climate, and get a steak that I will grill myself. The danger is high, and my life is at risk, but it is a gorgeous day, and I am going to grill, dammit. I could do carry out, but I like my food hot and my drink cool. Delivery is out of the question as the driver could be a double agent, FBI probably, mapping out the Compound. After all, a member of the Hamtramck Music Fest committee tossed out the idea that I should be reported to Homeland Security in 2017. Ironically, that same member was sacked from his own Fest soon after by other members of the committee, ho ho ho. Great job Tony Liggs. Tip of the ole cap. Whatever, lets leave the Compound and go see what a Sunday in May, the year of our lord, 2020 is like.
The first part of my plan was to equip myself in military gear, secure the hazmat suit along with a lavender face mask and high powered lavender plumber's gloves. I then grabbed the burner, porno laptop, and made a phone call.
I contacted a freelance sign language expert named Cynthia because, based on all recent news footage, everybody in the country is fucking deaf and I needed to have all the bases covered (no disrespect to the deaf Constant Readers; I know a few and they are the nicest people, despite a reason to be raging hyenas). Once Cynthia the Signer arrived I had my driver jump start the car. It was at this point that I discovered that Cynthia the Signer was also deaf. This was off to a great start so I just fed her a bunch of acid and whiskey and read a book to her. At this point it was time to move as the driver finally got the car started and Cynthia the Signer was far away from peaking. Time to go to Kroger you monsters.
I waffled on the hazmat suit at first because it could cause a panic combined with a deaf sign language professional high on acid, but ultimately went for it at first. It was difficult getting to the cart area because Cynthia kept wandering around signing at people, possibly drooling. She will need some of the cool drink I brought along.
Cynthia eventually wandered into the Kroger gas station so I decided to let them deal with that menace. By this time I was completely wild and wanted to see what was to happen inside the store, the real story, what's the score here? But first I needed another drink. So I wandered into the employee outdoor break area mumbling that I knew the coach, I mean manager, and that I couldn't breathe in this goddamn thing. The proles fled as I tried to relax, my photog yelling something about the police.
We entered the store with Cynthia the signer finally catching up and lecturing a crop of oranges, the peak emerging.
Despite the cars in the parking lot the produce area was eerily empty.
I made my way to the meat area to get my steaks. They didn't have much of a selection but that didn't stop Cynthia the signer to grab a package of round steak and suck the blood out of it. I realized that it might be time to cut Cynthia loose. I tossed a chicken breast to distract the sign language expert on acid and raced to the checkouts. Unfortunately I ran into Crabby Rich wearing his new Space Force shirt. He wanted to talk about the next WWE pay per view but I had to get out quick because I could hear Cynthia yelling incoherently from the meat section, so we decided on a photo shoot (my photog was back from drinking in the car).
I quickly paid for my steaks but not quick enough as Cynthia the signer caught up and was now signing in a foreign language, Chinese maybe, and chewing on an uncooked chicken breast. I told management that she has a bad heart and fed her some Ativan to calm this creature down. We got out of the supermarket just as the police were arriving. On the way back to the Compound we ditched Cynthia at a bar that was closed. Once back at the Compound I started my steaks. Finally. I also came up with my next post: a play off the live stream shows that keep bugging me online. It'll be fun. Got a quick start...
To end this, the steaks were great and I ended the afternoon (we all know the evening was not an option) with cool drink at the National Affairs Desk that lasted 15 minutes. Stay tuned for the live show muthas.
I Remain,
Bryan Metro
The Honor Role
Cynthia the Signer
AJ Styles
The Undertaker
Jag
E First
Tony Liggs
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