Remembering and fulfilling my promise to feed the birds in DTLA, I reconnect with my grounded self.

Personal public relations matters have been a huge and consistent mess, in my personal and private life lately, ever since the approach and passing of Valentine’s Day Weekend this year. 

I’d been coming under personal attacks on a regular basis, within the confines of my personal space and home life; a significant intrusion and invasion of the serenity and stability of my wellbeing and of the development of establishing meaningful relationships to come, based on my outreach efforts I’ve made online, in my social media accounts. 

Even so, with this being the case, there are some glimmers of light that have shown through, in promising ways that I’m looking forward to following through on. It’s been truly a long time since I’ve connected with someone on a deeper personal basis, and I feel like the time is becoming ripe for me to find that sort of opportunity once again. 

As my readers and followers over the years would attest to, my commitment to feeding the local pigeons and sparrows has been one of my long-standing and richly-defining traits that have pervaded the content I publish. Being that my personal life had become a significant detraction from my current life’s aspirations and pursuits, I’d recently been letting the various flocks of pigeons and sparrows down, in that I’d become so significantly exhausted and forlorn, both emotionally and physically. They’d been on my mind, and dearly so, yet I struggled, and failed, thereof, in getting myself up and out for the sake of feeding them their daily bread and other treats that I’d typically regularly have for them. I’d become worried that nobody else in the community had been concerned with their feeding, and that their spirits would be let down, in the scope of a someday promise of that they’d become tame, and more friendly, in years to come, for the sake of this sort of personal nurturing, and for expectations fulfilled; for the rewards that are to be reaped of acts of loving kindness that all sentient and intelligent creatures long for and appreciate. 

That being said, I’ve since rested up significantly, over the past weeks, following Valentine’s Day weekend, and the birds were eagerly hungry and enthusiastic to receive some care, in the form of bread and baked goods that I’d had for them. It feels truly fulfilling, in a spiritual sense, remembering that I had happened upon the Santa Monica hand-tame flock of pigeons one afternoon, next to the Santa Monica Pier.

Today I fed the Manchester at Harbor Freeway underpass pigeon flock, and the Grand Park flocks, as well. Here’s some photos from Grand Park today. 

A rough and tumble Valentine’s Day Weekend.

This had been, undoubtedly, a Valentine’s Day Weekend of much-peaceful rest-seeking to follow that would have been seen. 

That being said, I won’t gloat over the highlights and enumerations; I guess that we all came out of it bruised and sore, like it were an erstwhile trip to Holland, and we were ill-fated of our southern California dress clothing, such that we found ourselves out in the cold. I’m not sure what anyone else, of my peers, did, for the holiday, but I’ll divulge that I was much up for the celebratory part in participation, be it what it may or could be, such that I could make of it, although I ended up not going out in my unicorn cosplay outfit, and I ended up talking our heads off, ending up trying to salvage what I could of some spirit of grounding sensibilities that we could all relate to; that we’d all have had about ourselves, yet the spirit of romanticism, amidst this modern day dirge of materialism, and social status stakes of one-upmanship were highly touted distraction events, and I suppose that, of any of us involved, we were all slight to lose our proper and appropriate selves, in the flurry, and the cold. 

Hopefully the spirit of what transpired is not lost in what carries forth, from here on out. In essence, we all desire significantly similar things in life, given a common ground aptitude and shared lineage of upbringing that we had. In that, I managed to bring up, for consideration, some moments which I found to be compelling, in their plainness and simplicity. We were not so much of a quarrelsome and disagreeing basis of identity, and genuine authenticity in character, back in our early years, when we were all children, and we found ourselves fraught with a traumatic separation from each other. 

The weekend, for me, ended up being a labor of dedication and wonderment, as I spoke on voluminous various contexts, trying to manage the scope and coherence of maintaining a public face, and composing a linear contextually relevant basis; a common understanding, for all of those observing, while addressing much-neglected and needful aspects of ourselves, within a limited and containerized context, which seemed to be the overarching story that brought us together, over the course of the days and nights of the weekend, forget the commercial and traditional context of Valentine’s Day, or any truthful establishment that had been violated - we were all in a similar boat, without any uncertainty - all single men, this time around. 

I ended up sleeping outside, and waiting an entire day to recoup my belongings, and start off towards home - a disheveled and obvious failure, though I took pains to win some for the common ground participants and observers at hand. All in all, I couldn’t complain, and I didn’t ravage my living stability status, or reputation, all that much. Hopefully we all got through it well enough. 

Here’s to spring! To new beginnings, through the warmth of the seasons, bringing us some simple satisfaction as through natural cycles of the year. Let it bring us the simple promise of renewal, and rebirth. Thanks for being here along with me, all along. 

Where to go for the best breads in Los Angeles.

Anyone who follows along with my daily outings to feed the pigeons would know that I’m a huge fan of bread. Check out these tasty breakfast bread baking-restaurant retail locations from the Los Angeles Times. It’s hard to go wrong on good bread.



The best breakfast breads in Los Angeles

The iPad Mini (5th Generation) from Target proves to be a speedy [11.1] model iPad versus the [7.5] 7th Generation 10.2 iPad. (2019)

Those of you who follow me here, from my Twitter feed, would know that I was in need of replacing my iPigeon (iPad) status with a new one; thankfully Target Circle came through with a most timely email notice that, once again, the online and national chain store retailer would be offering its iPad stock up for sale. I returned to the trough like a boarish hog; this, my third one this side of summer. (It's winter). 

Regardless, I got (always) some good and well-wrought developlent, of a best-so-far blogging month or January (hits-wise), and in general, I've been able to manage the [otherwise] debilitating stalking (in-my-head) sort of oppositional slake on what I ought to reasonably be thinking about, and commenting on. 

炊口 剪水 欲死問成今刀代慢咋，玩鹽層卜— 剪水序禮间中 兆閑序土 對覆萊嚟句食成次弓 剪水 iPad— mini（5剪Generation）（ 句食梁玩， 玩分靚廣友口剪門戈嚟錯片禮， 今剪水7剪Generation鹽門柏哋iPad。  

The pigeons at Santa Monica Beach showed out as a huge, yet tame (some of them) flock.

I'm very tired,  after staying out in the cold, and attending to many things out at the beach (including exercise). I'm hoping that the efforts I've been making, in jogging, and starting (hopefully) an upper-body workout regimen, will afford me a sturdier line of progress in stabilizing my outlook; I've become disturbed, once again, by identities from my past bothering me through remote broadcast means. 

Here, in addition to Dennis Bachmann,  the enterprise manager, as I'd known of him,  however - Christian high school pastor, David Yang, Anna Nguyen, and others, perhaps as an installment at the beach,  as well - participated willfully in harassing and interrogating me.  The authorities currently have little will, or perhaps resource in serving justice for the abuses lodged at me. Birth identity, drug abuse,  sexual identity,  and racial heritage were largely the explanation and stated purpose of the stalking I've been experiencing. They were attempting to woo adherents to the enterprise by flaunting promises of drugs and Supplemental Security Income government benefits - causally tied in to the Full Service Partnership mental health program allotted to me though the judicial system,  back in 2016. Some partnerings and romances, and as well,  infiltration of my private contacts had been stated as deception and mockery tactics used to denigrate and psychologically demean perhaps otherwise good,  better,  or worse demographics of women, who were significantly at issue,  of partnering with men amongst the group, as with dating as the basis, and crystal methamphetamine, somewhat as the decree. 

Aside from that,  there exists a large hand tame flock of pigeons that I  fed some pie and sandwiches to.

Puff Bars are my favs in e-cig flavors.

Just Puff Bars, for Pinterest.

Check out my more fully-featured product comparison article here.

The Suorin Drop flavored nicotine salts and juices inhaler. Versus [comparison] Fuchai 200W | Puff Bar e-cigarettes.

The Suorin Drop nicotine inhaler is an attractive rechargeable nicotine inhaler.

The Suorin Drop Nicotine juice inhaler by Shenzen Bluemark Technology comes with a USB cable, package inserts, quality certification, and, of course, the Suorin Drop 2-piece body: one piece is the battery, USB port, and I/O juice charger; the other is the juice receptacle with a wick for the juices, an airhole, and the other end of the I/O charge pins 

The Suorin Drop hits pretty smoothly with a puff-puff sort of suction intake. I went to several stores around the DTLA area after I became fascinated, once again, with nicotine inhalers after I had found and lost one over the previous several days at the beginning of the month; and, as well, while undergoing midsummer shopping-haul shipping mania; whereas I think that shops had been doing an alternate Black Friday set of deals for faithful customers. 

I also (luckily) received an in-line (while checking out; that is), of a genuine Apple iPad Smart Cover from a very nice lady who noticed that I was having some trouble with getting my PIN number to work during the transaction. 

The lady who offered (and succeeded in offering), to extend a helping hand in my Target purchase paid only $11.00 plus tax for this iPad Smart Cover case. It was $39.99 originally.

I stayed the night in Pasadena (ostensibly probably Blogging, as well), and the next morning I came across a Targus tough shell iPad case, as well.

It was going down, at Target, on this Sunday night (July 26th, 2019), as far as spectacular sales prices on Apple products. The deals weren't listed online, and they weren't taking rain checks. 

That being said, I've still to unravel the debacle of not having my ID to pick up the next weeks' deal, which was an iPad for $249.99; down from $329.99 MSRP. 

Short of that, I don't quite look too young to purchase a nicotine inhaler; the Suorin Drop, which I had found, previously, around the USC area during some of my trash dive hauls in fortunate times of luck, or by considerate design, [as, it turns out, oftentimes, it seems], in that it feels like people leave out considerate trash dive "hauls" of cool stuff, such as a trial previous Suorin Drop and juice container (separately, though). Persistence and perseverance had paid off in finding a new favorite nicotine inhaler solution. 

I got juices and the Suorin Drop for $50 in Skid Row's tobacco and smoke shop specialty district around 3rd at San Pedro. I'll have to find the name of the store. The man was nice enough to accommodate my budget.

Cirque du Salt Strawberry-flavored nicotine salts juice.

Updates: regarding trash-dove’n gained nicotine (e-cigarette) inhalers. [It's about time]. 

The latest craze around the University of Southern California | discarded e-cigarette | trash-diving context is the über-stylish and compact Puff Bar, which is obviously any one of the four rectangular e-cigs pictured above. These nicotine inhalers really haven't been beat, in my experience, as far as flavor. Their "ice" flavored varieties, such as Banana Ice, Peach Ice, and the Cool Mint one, for that matter, are truly icy-cold puffs of flavored nicotine. My favorite, so far, has been Lychee Ice. 

 The big-hitting Fuchai-200W variable wattage nicotine inhaler. Many people have seen them. The guys who effortly blow massive clouds of nicotine juice vape outside, while non-partakers figure that they could blow a cloud that big, if they only but tried. 

I found this one on a trash dive today, out in Silverlake. It was perhaps intentionally discarded, as I checked out the internals and I/Os about it, and it's a non-recharchagable, special battery-powered unit. I was determined to find some batteries for it, the same night, and see it working, despite the fact that it had been dropped in water, and the batteries inside it had become rusted (not corroded, though). I trekked out to Hollywood Blvd., since the stores around Skid Row are 9-5 type shops, wholesale, that kind of thing, for the most part. Thankfully, I happen to look like a guy who can finagle a mark-down, just on account of my apparent visual poverty. The first guy who had the batteries was trying to do them for $15 a piece - an unfair attempt at markup, based on the prices I'd seen online for the batteries. I managed to wrangle the second vendor in on the notion that I was making him a sale, of perhaps "just sitting there" inventory. He had a lower starting price to begin with, - $20 for two (the thing requires two batteries), and I had $14. It was a done deal. He told me not to push the button and try it, before I got any juice in it, but when I got home and tried the thing out, it was a blessed power-hitting, cloud-blowing massive one, just like imaginably. A person could probably be gross and stick alternative choice materials in the juice container, but I'd think that that would become objectively distasteful. I'll stick with the nicotine juice.