Whoa. I thought I was at 46 posts on here, or so. Hopefully it's all good in backup stuff, and not f... [Well, it couldn't (obviously not) be a bad thing].

That's how it came out.

Talk of the moment, as par entre-doux en fien cours les confiderrietantes. 

That's my off-handed Françoise take on the taix entrebouerrerait.

All plop en Françoise at the helm of hoping I'm not making myself look less than appropriate, transliterative oblique-orthographically .institute actual serious, as the supposedly only contributor to this blog, as of content I/O and directives. 

My apartment was organizationally and calculatingly ransacked by psychotically attached drug addicts from my Jr. high through high school depravity context

That being said, it's a particularly despicable sleight that was as simple as such: handed off of on any sort of personal respect and consideration upon me by so many various individuals who spoke on the topic of conceivably, as they found themselves presented with the notion of people having had stalked my blog and social media output, as conceivably already blocked and ignored individuals on social media from me, for so many sleights at the establishment and all sorts of things good and common in society: they found me doing something ostensibly enjoyable and appreciable which they found they would simply disparage and bam off deplorable takes on that I'd been a whatever moment of half, to consider, and no more, on that note, for the fact that I simply don't think and dote on them, whereas they psychotically inevitably bam off common terrorist cell establishment and demands as such, that illicit drug distribution and abuse, of a maturity context of at least 10-15 years ago, of to consider my impulse control, and of depravity inconceivably trifling and strange, in particular, as far as my upbringing merits I'd ever have a mind conceivable to merit any appreciable attention to such ostensibly neglected infant as such that they present of themselves, and I find them wittingly and consciously stated as such, from fhe time that I've known them, to have had been slight to the notion of csring for nothing conceivably better than indulgences of what ends up as blatantly racist and dregs of society; an inconceivable burden in life that I had encounter me and start off any context of sociability, on their part, of truthfully anything except abuse.

Some new coconuts; I transplanted the prolific bubble mites @jay_ammon on Twitter of one coconut to most of the others, now for nutrients to be added. [Photos]

I determined that the prolific crawlers atop and crawling out of one of the coconuts were perhaps not fruit fly maggots, which are all abuzz in my kitchen, but instead, are perhaps, [as someone noted], mites which had been of some form of the class Arachnida, and imaginably could have been something that ended up worse than bubbly plump mobile and climbing creatures, and as well, I did some research towards investigating that topic. Thanks, Susan Patterson, for the info in a simplified and quick form. Perhaps the ionic mineral additives to the pigeon guano had seen these creatures in an accelerated evolution by the time they reached the top of the coconut hole, or perhaps, [getting back to somebody's statement, I had hit upon the part of the guano that held a tick's egg sac and the creatures fortunately did not come up as parasitic arachnids.

Now, as I had done previously with the first two brown coconuts - added some Chinese pharmaceuticals I had procured out of the trash dumpsters at USC, I am here, on this Wednesday morning, August 29th, 2018, adding an additional several squirts from the dropper over each of the already moistened

Actually "in to" *

Coconuts. The ingredients include blood orange essential oil and Texas cedarwood essential oil [newly added, as ingredients; the oils], which:

• Are noted as anti-termite treatment, as for the orange oil,
• Cedarwood, which was noted to be particularly soothing in skin rashes which were perhaps on account of some sort of insect traversing the floor where I sleep

These being with the aim of fighting off, in combination with the various other anti-viral, anti-inflammatory, anti-allergy, antibiotics, and vitamins, hopefully a fairly well enough offering to the embedded nesting organisms of the guano until I can go and get some more liquid ionic minerals from Whole Foods. (I got a $30 gift card for filling out some reviews on software I had used, which had been accepted, thanks to Capterra Reviews and TangoCard. [Sorry, I don't have a gift card affiliate link that would pay someone other than me, I'm just noting it]. I'm boosting the efficacy of the thrust of the pharma combination with some tricyclic anti-depressant samples I found, along with the other discarded haul from the trash dumpsters of USC apartments nearby, severap weeks ago, perhaps a couple of months or so.

Here are some pics of the progress, hopefully the bubble mites with see the Nicotiana tabacum plants I have planned for upcoming weeks and months' planting will stick with it, through going through the supplies I've gathered and also through some improvisational experimentation as new items come into my collectables, as I do my recyclables thing out on the streets.

Naproxen sodium.

Tricyclic anti-depressants and pain reliever.

Loratadine.

I decided to color the coconut shell opening edges to give the light characteristics going in to the coconut some special effect variance and UV protection; perhaps an additional attraction to enticing the creatures out of the dark, like the bubble mites pictured in this blog post title link to my Twitter.

This is the bottle I found 

The newly filled pigeon guano coconuts, ready to be squirted with some pharmaceutical and vitamin solution [also essential oils].

Is this thing some variant on a roach? Or a stink bug? They've been crawling around, mostly keeping to themselves, but they've also made their way in to the coconuts, as I left them out for a while, and perhaps they've got to be held at bay, from the hole in the wall of the closet I kicked in my sleep, months earlier. It's been months, and they've made headway in establishing their presence around the house.

Yesterday's quick roundup of tried-and-true tobacco curing tips and as-of-yet [I've not tried them] notable suggestions for a finer cured tobacco (post-retail, loose leaf, etc.)

Pictured is the tiny batch Gucci container I used to make an aside special try about for my first quick minutes oven aromatics oxalic acids fibrous juicer leftovers: confīte, atop hand-mashed [a bit] grapefruit quarters, reasonably well-medium fine balsamic vinegar in glass; there was cheese, perhaps, in a wetted sock (dirty, worn), some fragrant lip balm, better than petrolatum-based (on the organic side), a noteworthy tone-bearing plastic trinket (beacon, for slight transmission of a theoretical slight amplification of sound and particle wavelengths within a bellows box iOS device box confīte, topped with some slight brown sugar, plain brown sugar.

The Gucci box selection was wrapped with Farmer John's standard 8 pack breakfast sausage wrapper, unwashed. It was an attractive confīte box with my small box AirPods trash find containing the main tobacco store to be infused with the aromatics vinegar oxalic acids sugar confīte, and I had a fine cigar, smoked well enough to be rich, by this time, included in the box. I believe I put some allergy medicine in there; Claritin, for some unknown and fanciful belief of that it would impart a hypoallergenic or perhaps something somewhat useful chemistry BAM! about the reaction. There was pigein guano either inside or outside the box, perhaps in a custard dish ceramic thing, probably moist, or maybe not.

I closed the confīte box and turned the oven on, about 300 degrees Fahrenheit, and I used the restroom, or something like that.

[Did I blow meth smoke into it?] This would have been long into the time in which I had swore off smoking meth, but it may have been that literal bit of a set of days for a week, and then no more again, and I broke the glass pipe. I suppose that event happened twice, perhaps over a couple of weeks. Relevant? Hopefully not, I don't encourage smoking meth:definitely, and in general, it's a problem presentable as for a person who uses, of any sort.

Try it without any meth invokved, but for features' sake, it may have happened like that, for this batch. It was enjoyable consumed tobacco.

Within that somewhat reading span of length of time, the oven had a notable presence into the main living room where I was, and it would be so weird if it ventured through the walls and the neighbors could feel it also, so I rushed over and removed the box, placed it under and within a cashmere sweater, [is the cashmere thing truly radiation ionic blam! Insulating the blam! instead? I would say yes, but I have a thing for cashmere sweaters and sweating it out, or staying warm, and it does have a particular sort of insular characteristic. Perhaps ... I dunno. Maybe wool would work, but definitely cashmere.

It looked nice enough to eat: the grapefruit balsamic sweet beets confīte array, but I was [for sure] definitely on meth, to speak of, at all, at the time, and the near blam! expansiveness was an exciting moment. I felt like the tobacco must be infused with so much pigeon trinket sidewalk searching finesse, and some Françoise considerable distinction about it. It didn't disappoint, and the Gucci box portion was particularly resinous and rich, with a slight bit of pork sausage flavor about it.

I had, aside from this, also [prior to everything, first of all], had a popped open coconut of some sort, perhaps something, but it definitely was somewhat going to vinegar-alcohol-ish fermentation at this point, in the same kitchen. Were the coconut electrolytes of the coconut water and fat fermentation thing something... Like I had done something with it prior to that? I dunno. Maybe I just opened it and left it out, and it started going to vinegar.

I cooked French onion soup some time recently prior to this, maybe the night before. There was rotting food in the kitchen.

The suggestions for moving forward, beyond whats been established:

Milk chocolate somewhat characteristic impart to the tobacco, for a less fiery burn.

There was something else, perhaps...

Aside from that, I have less experimental and eccentric air-cured process ionic mineral arrête sort of transhydraulysis stuff, maybe the chocolate concept would be okay cooked in, or sprayed on, or something, and stuff with extracted oils and toying with the adsorbent nature of doing something [somehow], but I'll read up on it at that time. I've been collecting cardboard long tube "flues," and I definitely can't run a smoke house in here, it's a studio apartment, plus I don't smoke inside [nearly always].

People along my walking path have been generous with leaving out tobacco of cigarillo packets, and I tend to desire cigarettes less.

The main concept of the post-retail confīte oven curing thing:

Was that the fine cigar, once smoked down, would impart, and perhaps ad hoc fluff up, and via the aromatics confīte:given the vacuum bellows box concept: suck in the mineral solids of the pigeon guano aside and fluff up a quick oven up fluff of some concept of a tobacco bale curing ammonia somewhat concept, at least just maybe somewhat ammonia something, and then something about the arrangement and suction or moistness, and the tone bearing trinket thing was supposed to easily enough, end up perhaps [maybe not easily, but I thought it might] simply bam up some unscraped nicotine out of what was of the confīte box and tobacco in it, well enough to make it better tobacco.

It was really good tobacco, actually :)

Some development of the coconut shell pigeon guano air-curing project: soil mites!

One of my hard shell brown coconut guano cultures has developed what seem to be either maggots or mites; actually, it seemed that maggots were crawling around on the top of the guano after I left the coconuts out since last update, perhaps a few weeks or less, at this point.

I decided that perhaps I might see if some of the tobacco seeds would sprout in the mix, as early on in a decomposition stage as it might be; though I gave it ionic minerals and various pharmaceuticals, and perhaps some interesting micro-evolutionary epochs had transpired in the meantime, creating an advanced and or adapted form of 8 legged creature (perhaps), which could likely be of various origins, based on the bug life observed: I saw a scattering parasitic tick (just one) when I was gathering the freeway underpass guano [although that's not this particular batch; this one is dried grassland next-to-freeway guano and dirt. I'm assuming that there was somewhat dried out and starved for moisture insect and predatory parasite life waiting for moisture for them to be born; ostensibly of various modes of evolution, if the circumstances permit, as I had noted in my previous experiment in feeding a gutter mosquito birthing larval stage puddle with Humineral Zeolite Humic and Fulvic minerals, and the soon-afterwards appearance of the friendly mosquito (yet still itchy as it bit me).

I'll update this post with photos and more links soon.

Some links on soil mites:

http://www.savanna.org.au/all/soil_health_monitoring.html

http://www.fao.org/docrep/009/a0100e/a0100e05.htm

https://genetics.thetech.org/about-genetics/making-medicines

Pigeons at recycling centers are a common feature duo

A photo-blog scrum-up to UTD my GTD of a quaint and folkish pigeon flock of Chinatown, adjacent DTLA, towards NoLA or (North [of] Los Angeles) via Civic Metro Center DTLA as a common pigeon bum fashionable tech athleisure technical institute bum pigeons lifestyle-centric walking locale (most days). Chinatown illustrative art biopic survey photography quick snaps, for follow-up of ink or digital rendering.

Quick GIS quaint pigeon idiomatic colloquialism-localization  of Chinatown, of Downtown Los Angeles, California-adjacent - postal code 90013 : "Various views, vanishing points, and city street detail, for a follow up of an un- [mobile development device] (powered; "then,") very primitive [by means], yet notable endearing moment of pigeon society.

"Pigeons hounding for food outside ABC Restaurant, Chinatown:of Los Angeles California.

An urban pigeon-lover-bum's slight moment of awe at the ostensibly social nature of the «pigeon flock» as a herd-creature unit identity. The bum, as the perspectives-rendering artist, ostensibly resonates with some off-handed notable characteristics of the pigeon, as a "one of few" common diversions and recreations that conceivable common bums of Los Angeles might find themselves as, as internally projected by the artist over many a common day's bum life, « now he does pigeons » as the interplay of his true internalized concept of self, versus the significant proximal limitations of a bum, "at-Standards as he was raised on," [of the era], and against the literal actual truths of life, as can be made out: the architecture, a restaurant, a Chinese upbringing, a Chinatown squat for a lunch. Pigeons overhead. The pigeons ostensibly portray the unseen needs and desires bearing down on a solitary homeless man's identity, yet they contrast with his current visual take on an inner-solitude self, ostensibly reasonable context of a strange context life, as it's depicted here, for compositional development, into the future. 

Somewhere, perhaps, (still), I have the original sketches, or photos of the papers. Reasonably, the significant mock-up organic nature of a validly distributed ingress moment for artistic portrayal pertains significantly to a properly received art illustration. This is a quick look at the project t from an ad hoc passers-by random Friday, common bum, doing recyclables and Chinese medicine shop inquiries, after the library, can't check out books, at the moment, I've got $23 of fines.