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Friday, May 1

The iPigeon.institute folklore of сдит Бебе рубеои


сдит Бебе рубеои was a memorable facet of the original iPigeon.institute slight home museum exhibition.


Here, we see сдит Бебе рубеои's original sketch in tattered fade, due to discoloration from the museum's flooding. 






сдит Бебе рубеои was founded by works of technical analysis and rendering on wool canvas (missing photo). The bird itself was a lame bird; it fell from a nest underneath 18th St. bridge, underneath the 10 freeway, just outside of DTLA. He was very tame, and I was sad to see him go, although he surely got a good home at the Pasadena Humane Society. 


I do pigeons du jour.


The pigeon island flock of Westlake Food4Less.


Pigeon island grazing pigeons.


The Food4Less pigeon island flock is a quaint and hearty flock in the epicenter of civic commercial Westlake, nearby MacArthur Park. On a shopping trip to Food4Less, the flock can be observed, on any given day, perusing the pigeon island, grazing about for some pickins. 



Tuesday, April 21

The slogth of troweling AF content into your yup (as far as news-feed shope). A trinzy into meta dating - pre-geeking the « unh-uhh. » ènNNooo. [Ur mom]

So, upon investigating some of the many various sorts of tech-and-lifestyle sorts of life-diggs-in-to, of a life I could have fwocked ieuppe some bwaistier shope than a most-domesticated "cleanly" sort - <_< ... I'm a bit otherwise, in simply doing a weekly clippers trip and line up in on the taper hair cut - I gotta look fuck-ugly "just cut my hair" thing, of a poor person, living outside, yet I had procured some new Wahl clippers, which I packed with me, in my bags of essentials.

I'm just joking. That last guy would have been, like, me... and insulting of the Los Angeles CA mayor, in some of his publicity shots I see online. It's a tough tundra topological Army Corps of Engineering's Arctic Watershed, of vastly much deeper than the frazhamm!!! - a ball sack bold enough to brave the COVID-19 beach-faring ocean sea Waters.

[the context underlying this notion was that the weather had been frigidly cold, for the homeless demographic, being that there were several systems of storms of this recent time span, amidst a Google Maps view of the underwater cliffs of the Pacific Ocean, which were (imaginably) manufactured as such, through large-scale civic engineering efforts that had possibly gone untold, in the popular media news outlets, given the expanse of relevant Los Angeles area underground engineering projects of a watershed establishment, such as the Los Angeles Ballona River extension, coupled with new and recent parks and recreation areas opened, along the development context of extending the Los Angeles River, through several new areas, as well as that the expansion of the Metro Train lines would require significant amounts of energy and cooling accommodations, which I believe had been touted as largely dependent upon hydroelectric power and that it would take advantage of the nearby coastline ocean waters for the sake of water's heat-bearing capacity, scalability of resource, and that it ought be a localizable resource of ethically fair and sustainable methodology, in to implementation). I believe I'd read or inferred this context, somehow. The waters, as age trawled along, in to my younger mid-adult-age years, seeming to be more imposing than my psychotic explorative and adventuresome willingness episodes had been seemingly thwarted, for the sake of the fear of that I just "couldn't get that high, anymore," to suppose that I submit to a suggestive or self-supported notion of taking a night and early mornings' passing as a dark hours exhibitionist, out by the waves; then, as well - for the fact that Google Maps seemed to portray an unseemly deep-gorge fall-off of the shore, in to the open sea waters of the Pacific Ocean. One of my good friends had related to me, at one point, of that he had swam out, past the rip ride, in the ocean's waters, and the current was significantly much more powerful than the near-shore waters, and he became very fearful of being swept out to sea. (The solution being to swim parallel to the shore, in order to get back to land)].

I'm just the guy who writes this stuff out, like that, for the fact that it's honest, and I touch on tidbits and marketing » persona « as a PR aside job-hobby, because "I used to," ... and such like that, such that I probably wouldn't, or wouldn't "be allowed to," whereas I hopefully find an impressions for content valuation hits, for readers, organically, over years, in establishment, on here. 

That being said, being included in on « Google News », for example - while it's not Apple News, or Apple News +, for example: their stores aren't even open. People had done Dixie way in to Alabama of a Mac Store's secret breakdown lives of the « tech and lifestyle » "demographictechies" - better than « urh, urh, uhh...<?>"...?" » 

Okay. No one's so « actually » so much, off-hand, so much like they're better than others, per se (sor speekin's saeke) that's how it comes out, for some people, of the "likes to" and "thinkful|-ing" sort of... "sorta" type.

I just hope that I land my editorial grammatical thumbsplotches within the right alpha-numerical space when it comes to unsightly - it's now down to 229 dpi bitsy-bits on the Target BLū Android Mobile device - not too bad, I must say. 

Who knows - maybe the battery charging thing is something that hit us all - battery lives, lived [....errgh... whatever that word is - not facetiously, not interrently - but « in the place of » of a standard life, of a tech and lifestyle rendering - that's a more suitable digression far from an insult - a demographictechie might offer. 

But a metadata-magician for a Google Search and News-listing Enterprise self-initiative sort? Much more programmably-sayins' that sort of thing, in the journalistic foray of a world, whereas I take to fwthamm'ed garbage posting with unrelentless grammatical foundation to suppose I ought to look clean cut - and not have shaven my butt, lately - as the "holding it down" demographic for the sake of adulting "bum guy." 

Not like I would talk about myself, like this, to begin with. But how few people actually read and critically devour the context, of such plain text, bereft of Art of Composition connotations and embellishments - « to the eyes »  <_< ... 

I like it. 

The pigeon bum's bwitchy little bum life on Blogger. 

That's the most I'm hoping for. That I satisfy some unfulfilled,yet relationally fvwasthmmmwham... of a spread of persona demographic, then we move on, to the next, in enumeration, and hopefully,I'm still cite-fully good for courage in the battle's cry and purpose, and it goes down in what seems in to as becoming of the troglodyte Los Angeles heroite - a bitsy one - an iBeacobpidginKit.futbol player, in the future - (my future endeavoring aspiration, in gaming development) - such that I « just get to » , [do], albeit, in decades from now - all because of the years of demographictechie stuff, going on, like that. Like this? 

Well, okay. I met a most charming young vocal èntendué - ... okay. Of some French stuff you'd have to have been « as well » coquettishly en fançie-mais-way-too-gay, to have been localized parfait of "some day," some people are just fags, of how they're likely to have been received, in life... Me too, for that matter." 

For this Los Angeles area. Although, there is the culture high-brow demographic of "having children," of which « I don't » [laughably, although just simply good enough... the stuf... the stuff they have me writing on here, sometimes ... " 

And I can be "okay. It wasn't just quite so such like it was all about sex and reproduction going on so casually, without a proper formality courtsmanship, in acquaintanceship ecouterie etiquette, and Fetty Wap, yeah. I listened to his shit. Africa holds it down for the French state-nationality-maítre. 

A bit different than the Stateside identification, with something that wasn't French...? 


... A bit questionable, at this juncture, yet it could be worse, ... 

No, it wasn't that it was someone else, it could have been me, and worse, and not even dumb, - just acknowledging it. It was about me, doing a French thing, to begin with, but pulling it off? 

The French, and their African neighbors, alike, are all good for a good pig's roast. For those who don't eat pigs, I'll pray for you, I suppose. I eat all of pigs' goodness, as a Christian man. 

The topic? Pretty far out to sea, of digression, is what I'd established, of myself. If I didn't have to peek, or be helped, ... But I'm just typing, on some level... But what... 

What if I was actually stupid about what I was talking about, at this point in the discussion? 

Hahhhh... Ahhhh... That would be some seahhhh... droolin' life sort of take on me, for doing anything. And it doesn't get really any much better, for the standard observers, upon the topic.

"Just some guy. He coulda been like that girl." -[in the tabloids] ... sorta thing. 

Iconic legendary persona, yet not classy, of a nature of intimidating. Just drool-boy fwamm. 



But forgetting? That would be so everyone, on the topic, by now. 

But news meta-data pre-dating fwopp-on-schlepp'd they fizzled up the Scwheppes seltzer... And look how hard they're doing seltzer nowadays, in the grocery aisles. 

Alright, but supposedly, that stuff could be remanufactured - for the sake of a cultured and charismatic classy one to rebeouff, of the revue of the journalistic highbeams shinin', 


in Neww Yoooorrrkk, dah-dii-di-di Dih-di du dee-dee... 

Alicia Keys, and stuff. That was this young starlet one, here, in my presence, last night. I made sure to lay this one down with all the warmth and affections I ought to have offered, and chocolate, on top of it. [at that]. 

Okay. That's somewhat all my point of coming out Blogging was, for this one.  

Wednesday, April 8

I « almost » got a room at the Olive Motel

For those who know dive-trawl motel(ing)-Los Angeles, for this side of town (Echo Park), there's scarcely a more dive trawl motel to dump on in to, for a night of seedy scenarios playing out amidst the motel patron's self and periphery. Not that the management is all that bad; (the man at the register is a Chinese man), and, to their credit, I've never caught or seen a bed bug there. 

That being said, I caught some sort of sweat or parasitic critter-based rash that's been in development of fighting for it's right to exist, amidst « bird bath » sink showers, liquid ionic mineral supplements, both internally and externally, as well as some Permethrin 
cream:
PermethrinListen to pronunciation
Common brands: Nix Creme RinseLice Killing (permethrin)Elimite
Anti-parasite
It can treat head lice and scabies.
Brands: Nix Creme Rinse, Lice Killing (permethrin), Elimite, Lice Bedding Spray, Lice Treatment (permethrin), Nix Complete, and Stop Lice
Availability: Prescription sometimes needed
Pregnancy: No known risks
Alcohol: No known interactions with light drinking


 All things considered, I would have ended up a woeful caricature of a young adult motel(ing) demographic. My mental psyche periphery has thankfully been fairly calm seas lately, thanks to my dedication to talking things out, my postings on social media and here, on Blogger, as well as that I'd been dutifully bound to the critter community in the capacity of keeping them fed with some good nibbles - the latest kick for them is Log Cabin Maple Syrup.




Learn more about Log Cabin breakfast syrups, all made with no high fructose corn syrup, and our delicious, fluffy pancake mix.
This is my current outlook - in favor of a more pro-active stance and action against the potential ticks-infestation nibbling on my arms, in intervals.




After all, I did pick all this stuff up off the ground, outside. It stands to reason that some tick-infested poor soul found themselves stricken with ticks, and simply changed clothes, while dumping the infested clothes in the street.

Getting back to the mental health thing: washing clothes is, after all, a strong front in the face of hospitalization, which, due to coronavirus rules in place still (potentially until May, is probably a nightmare.

It's been a nightmare getting around, some nice my personal tote cart has been taking a beating, logging miles in Santa Monica for the first week of the month; now I'm back in the Civic center and Echo Park, of which I'll have a special photoblog to come.

Check out these cart wheels:



That's right - that's zip ties, aquarium hose, and plastic bag wrap cinching together my tires on my personal tote cart.

My upper body has been burgeoning with endurance lifting-holding strength, for the sake of the fact that I've been tilt-pushing the cart to preserve the wheels' integrity, while I pursue a new cart life, at some point soon.



My laundry is done washing.


Tuesday, April 7

A squirrel's lark's call is one of the fun heralds of spring.

Being taken for one's goods by a playful lark, though costly, is part of the process in caring for wild animals and birds. While staying over in Santa Monica, CA, this past week, I observed a family of squirrels, as I stopped on a bench at Palisades Park to feed the pigeons.

The call of a squirrel lark is similar to that of a bird, with a beacon effect. I was unable to capture photos of the family of squirrels because I had no batteries for my phone. 

Today, though, back over at Garfield Park, in South Pasadena, I caught some examples of a similarly playful lark of a squirrel. 







Thursday, April 2

A nook, or rather, a plaza - of iPigeon sneaky repose, amidst a mobile plug-in charging interest upon the place - the Ernst & Young | FigAt7th « plaza » :pigeons:;

The pigeons of the Ernst & Young DTLA high-rise corporate and banking building plaza is a scenic backdrop of foliage and masonry, alongside cast-irob and bronze statues of various social inquiry and satire at issue. 

It happens to be - 

Okay. 

« It » , though, being the pigeons bronze casting [or perhaps it's copper?" 

Anyhow, this blog would prove to be a bit clumsy in compositional merit, I'd have to admit. Yet I strive to delve deeper than late-night pizza pigeons, in the critical analysis of the text here, which happens to re-hash (and for new readers who had not covered my early material on this blog) the au français theme - of some nature, yet undoubtedly of a reference to the Administrative Language influence of the 25%, or so: indebted task to which we owe the nation France, of it's origin - of the classical Romance languages syntax and usage basis, as well as for grammatical and dictionary compendium of such that might, as much, amount to an ad hoc, more universal phonetic and semantic contextual usage, such that gestures of speech and text could be made-to-order, as take-out as Google User Information Download, which happened months ago, for me, and I never even looked at it. 

I've eaten garbage, to be honest, most affectionately, of what I can make out, about food. Today, though, as well as last night - two men, in vehicles - treated me to a more relevant: non-tech and lifestyle blog standard target demographic of the truly relevant ones, even so - the pigeons thing, ... pretty scarce info. 

Yet here, in this copper casting, we find that in the ending word phonetic iteration of nonplussed, it rhymes with dust, which would be simply improper, for a French language student's stake in what it should sound like, whereas perhaps it's simply what happened, with the text, yet it wasn't French, how it ended - sort of thing, as the issue at hand. It's perhaps a bit funny, to some, but the French would have had of it simply differently, making it an issue of seriousness. 

I won't further elaborate. Here are the photos of the two copper castings.



One more look at me, in the unicorn outfit:

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