Entertainment in the Time of Pandemic

The above photo was was something a Friend posted on Facebook. I was bored and decided to comment.

How do you steal five eggs?

I suppose that I should have asked “why” instead of “how.” The last time I looked, eggs only come in packages of six or twelve. Five? That’s like stealing one damn shoe. She probably stole six, but lost one of them in the ensuing foot chase down the street. Or maybe one of the eggs was broken? The cops couldn’t really bust her for stealing a broken egg—that would be a total dick move—so they only charged her for stealing the five unbroken eggs.

And they brought her a truckload of groceries? Even if it were a small truck, that would be a lot of groceries. I wonder if there was anything good in the load, or if it was just boring crap like rice and flour and ramen noodles or whatever. I mean, it’s the thought that counts and all, but would it have killed them to throw in a couple pints of Ben & Jerry’s or a bottle of gin?

Am I over-thinking this? Probably? Did I mention that I’m more or less under house arrest here and I’m sort of climbing the walls and so freaking bored that I think I may need medical attention?

Objectifying the Objectifiers

I troll a website looking for books to read that has a lot of romance novels mixed in with the stuff I’m looking for (not romance novels). From the cover art of these books geared towards heterosexual women, you get the impression that six-pack abs are the female equivalent of cartoonishly big boobs for men. Fair enough, I suppose.

How much will I have to pay for an ab-job?

Coronavirus Self-Quarantine Diary, continued

Oops! I feel a little silly because I just learned that in lock-down we are restricted to our apartments. I thought we were confined to our beds.

I’m so bored that I am considering watching the popular series, Tiger King. I’m sort of saving that one, though, like the last can of pork and beans in my pantry, or whatever the canned food equivalent of the series may be.

I swear that when this is all over, I'll never wash my hands again. It is going to end, right?

Many pundits are comparing this to a war. The old adage says that the first casualty of war is truth, but in my case personal hygiene and grooming dropped dead when the first shot was fired. How good do I have to look when the closest humans are on the balcony across the street? I'm saving a fortune on deodorant and shampoo. Add to this the fact that my total bar tab for the past 11 nights was exactly zero, and I think I'll come out ahead on this thing.

The next fatality in this war seems to be my taste in movies and books. The only immunity I seem to have developed is for shitty movies I normally wouldn’t poke with a very long stick (Did you know that there is a Lethal Weapon 4?). I also NEVER pass around “viral” videos but have done this on two occasions since I’ve been in lock-down. I don’t know if this reflects my reduced mental capacity because of the forced isolation, or the videos were particularly worth sharing. I’ll let you decide.

I had completely forgotten how much it sucks to be grounded. I really hate my parents. And if you have teenage children, how do you punish them when they’re already under house arrest?

I looked over my balcony and saw that people were lining up for the supermarket an hour before they opened. I looked again and I realized that they didn’t know that it now opens an hour later than normal so they had left. I really, really hate long lines and I’d rather resort to survival conditions along the lines of H.M.S Endurance before I stand in a hellish line. I will need food in the next 3-5 days, or I can just drop that ten pounds I’ve been meaning to lose. I’m low on coffee filters, so fuck it, I have to deal with it. Shackleton and his crew probably didn’t run out of coffee filters.

I’m hoping they will ease up on the rules to allow outdoor exercise. I would be fine if I could get out and ride my bike every day, something that would make this seem more like a true vacation instead of house arrest. I have a pull-up bar at home which is OK, but it’s no substitute for the little outdoor park I visit three days a week that has a sort of prison yard feel to it where I can compare myself to the teenage punks who work out there. Still haven’t decided on which gang to join.

The important thing to remember is that Trump has “a good feeling” about finding a vaccine. He’s assigned a team of crack scientists from Trump University to achieve this objective.

Does it mean that I’ve hit rock bottom when I realize that I’m too slovenly even for the task of taking out my garbage, or am I still in the downward spiral screaming towards rock bottom? I’m just going to wait until it gets dark. Daylight savings changed today, so it’s going to be a while. Whatever, it beats getting cleaned up.

On social media, my sister was yearning for the day when she can go again for a manicure/pedicure. I suggested a service that could address these needs based on existing technology: the bus station gloryhole.