The importance of making good on consumer purchases in integrity in development.

I purchased my monthly General Relief ($221 USD) welfare budget mostly at Target at the University of Southern California USC Village shopping center.

They've got some truly rare gems of offerings, some of these at comparatively better than expected prices.

I bought another RCA Viking ÏÏ Tablette, as I saw it as a great product, comparatively, from last month's purchase of the same item, with which I was able to attain a lot of good Google Play Store downloads in my searches, and I made some good progress in establishing iPigeon outings to further my pigeons carnival aspirations in a slow and dedicated manner, still decades to come, I'm sure, until they're truly carnival-ready pigeons of DTLA.

On the next day, I had been wandering around the nearby Figueroa Blvd. area, as well as around South Park and Grand in DTLA, as it was raining intermittently, and heavily, and it was particularly cold, at that.

I had gotten my feet soggy, and I'd been doing some [somewhat] gravitationally-perpective-vanishing point scaling surveying work with my Bushnell (*my - I found it laying outside) passive laser golf device "thing," (not quite sure of the model itself, but I looked it up, and it was valued at $300). I noticed (since I'm nearsighted in one eye, and mostly regular-sighted in the other eye) that, in intervals, the telescopic features of the concave and convex lenses, with the measured scaling I was practicing, in survey and grade work - which I had determined I was capable in achieving in slight measures; definitely beyond my singular and subjective personal belief. 

[Perhaps there were also ... ? Hmm... well, people were working at the new park over on the other side of the street on Grand at 11th]

; 

I had, (also), collected and retained some of my poop from the night before, which was somewhat a fortuitous and strangely burgeoned development purpose, in that I had started to become a bit irked, acutely; 

...

It was stuff happening over the course of the day, actually. I was upset about this trawled out "showing up where I'm at" thing about last caseworker I had, and her supervisor's supervisor...

Stuff like that. I was more attracted to the supposed higher up 2nd supervisor, but I found the structure somewhat strange; it was as though a bunch of people somehow had to "manage my case," in which case, they're making money off of me; 

Meanwhile I had been getting verbally abused by remote personae; this had been going on for years, decades, even. 

One lady ; ... well, she was my case manager, Rochelle Williams, that she named herself, had stated that she does not clean her own home, and I found her to be - on first meeting her, constituently something of an unprofessional « off-hand » 

Then the group of them collaboratively established me in getting hospitalized for supposed psychiatric emergency; potentially with severely depraved intimations of violence towards my mother in having been committed against me as what had transpired while I was hospitalized. 

She later had it out in the local DTLA newspaper, somewhat ad hoc with a journalistic imaginative freedom, (most perhaps-ly) as Richelle Huizar, a momentary wife caught up in and that had played out as an FBI raid upon a city counilman's data. 

It was a time of November, of « even years » ...? or do these things happen every year? Elections; sorts of stuff. 

It (not to become overly Tolstoy, intentionally), was also a time of significant egotism, strife about class-needs and demands: amongst imprisoned solitary few - here, again, the victimization of the Eastern European Caucasians, as "Jews," [as people would decry, and as have of them], and of the Cantonese Chinese, as Christian missionary-taught Protestant faithful. 

There was a whole lot of "just kidding" glance-backs at the cause as a purpose in life, and a lot of traumatic screams; there were the hospitalizations, much traffic on the streets as violently anti-social and as civic activists beyond lawfulness being attested to. 

There was much of confusion of syntactical structure; we've come a significant farce from claiming so many things of former years; some of these many I'd largely expect to simply be years on, in being younger than myself, my age at this time being age 36. 

There were lies about process fulfillment, as intimated could would did done happening, and that was in words, that it happened, yet of all that, still unfulfilled. 

There were statements as towards, "well, why not just violently revolt against all of us?"

In truth, I'd been the one to not detriment the few who have friendly faces about themselves in my common daily life, as it passes; and at that, many unfamiliar unfriendly, and some, familiarly rude... 

What might could I really say, of some measure; and then it came to suggesting of violence [this had already happened, and it happened to me, first, and beyond compulsion, in to other collaborative efforts, of a suggestively depraved-magnitudes in, in having been established, as purpose as cause for the reason for so many things, to explain, at a certain point of comprehension]. 

On one hand, simply understanding that collaborative efforts had been established, beyond lies, first and foremost; 

I'd say that that's a sorry start to a first-hand disposition and objectively subject of focus in life as a remote, off-camerata personae talker (improper; of usage, perhaps), 

and they'd simply decided to be that way in life. On one hand, I couldn't say that I much could have known much better about them in order to have treated them well, given that I'd not met them, or had hardly been acquainted, or introduced properly, at all. 

Getting in the way of development work.

Given that I'd been made (scientific control environment) fearful of things that matter to me, and that the subject is my mother, and that I'm being targeted, as well;

I'd spoken on a few days, morning through night, as best as my mind could establish work logic productivity purpose to suit, 

I made some people the topic of subject at hand.

Given that sort of discourse,

It's been established that some people, perhaps had been establishing themselves, somewhat, as cannibals amongst a professionalism (of ethics, in work practice) expectation upon my life that is obviously strange, to consider.

* Redundant, (establishing), but that's how it came out, as far as I would, and do have "had attempted," as face-to-face interactions that've been established (*again, lol) as [as overseen], unsuccessfully kiosk-as-personae walk-up constituency that's most common of being claimed as such that would be that to deride, as having had never been established in life; of my mother, for example. Me, as well; fairly much, that they treat me as; claiming further defeats upon me to come, and a hopelessly to-be: unfulfilled American dream of all manners of positive nurturing environment in psychological backdrop that I'm allowed of myself, for the virtues that I'd been raised with, and corrected about, as that there'd been deprecations along the way, yet strange, that they'd attack my mother at her home, to be sure.

That being said, there are small and measurable gains to be made in development work for the sake and manner of establishing ethical small steps in dedication to finery in mannerisms and in etiquette. 

I'd been slated a bum, for various reasons I'd call less than more than they do, as far as words that I'd put it as, yet small steps to be taken; a long road in establishing virtue in purpose in life. 

These things signify aesthetics, authenticity, singularity, as well as developmental purpose in sustainability and progress.

As I sit down for a quick abstract on a more efficacious tobacco smoking method, a received broadcast of that my mother is screaming about her body burning in pain.

Peter Ehrlich, David Yang, and « homies » « bro » « dog » « fool ("foo") »

« [these police officers] » were offhandedly implicated; (contextually, not seemingly so much in deed of fault,

It's supposed as that my parents are being held up as hostage victims within their home. My parents had brought me up in the age of the internet as a believer in the inherent overarching goodness of people in society. 

Resonant harmonic frequency tobacco smoking, which was a sympathetic context to my aims in life, in that I aspire to produce the au jour pigeons carnival of some historic and cultural reputed austerity in life;

It's imaginably a purpose that's been fulfilled in other cultures throughout history, such as that had been achieved in the pipe-organ cathedrals of Europe. 

Given that pipe organs have a cousin in the Calliope, who, referentially, is the muse of Greek mythological lore, a traveling and compact version of the great pipe organs, which were produced most notably (according to my learning, at this point in time) - in the early-mid through late-mid centuries of the second millennium of our Lord, Jesus Christ.

Resonant harmonies, which, in a simpler sense, are easily portrayed as though steel drums might be thought of, as that they are metal cylindrical devices shaped in to various resonant shape-areas of the hammered top surface.

Likewise, various and curious notable pleasurable tobacco smoking experiences might; conceivably, due to the radioactive nature of the tar, smoke, and chemical components of smoke passing through an aluminum can (here, I used a Red Bull 8.4 fluid ounce can) - produce novel and slightly variant smoking experiences (here, I had been graced with discovering a pouch of Backwoods tobacco, which is a well dried and cured cigarillo tobacco with a bright and rich character about it) -

Through aesthetically and mathematically organic, natural forms, representationally; be fashioned on to the aluminum can in some consideration of harmonic resonances which can be produced through poking holes in the can with a regular large (1-1/2 inch, or so);

Perhaps in tetrachordal or isomorphic imaginative form. Various poking-centers in logistically, complementaritively, or through ingenuity - will create various suction-based slight high-frequency harmonics to suit the purpose of creating conceivably-resource for technical analysis or for aesthetic enjoyment. 

A look at some of the great things that can be achieved through choosing a startup development aspiration on mobile with Google Domains on Android.

An iPigeon.instiute DTLA Nightlife Fun Page of Carnival Pigeons Sort - a « sidewalk-outside-of » Karl Strauss Brewery Can-Smashing Activity

DTLA Karl Strauss Brewery Sidewalk Can Smashing Activity.

To be updated and fulfilled of .webp shortly.

But check out the dynamics of coloring alteration as the phone / tablet moves! You do work on mobile, right? Aztec codes ought to be dynamic user experiences.

Some truly classic rainy day pigeons (photos)

I'm gonna grab some bread at the bargain corner at Ralph's for them!

January 3rd, 2019 - contemplating the new tri-sept-"something" orthographies of the passing days of the years (only less than one year, so far; yet the Fall and Winter months of October and December are so ostensibly logos about Decimary and hexa-octet number bases of logarithmic counts. (Photo: an ass-sitting slade cloud trawl orthographic slade-cirrus cloud)

For spending an evening out (or something) that happened yesterday, I ended up framing my day's overnight home-based development efforts on trying to provision my latest device purchase acquisition - a Viking ÏÏ RCA 10-inch tablet purchase from Target at USC for $99.95 plus tax and CA electronics recycling fee - $5.00, in trying to wrap my mind around setting up a [free] Wi-Fi tethering notion to get my other devices, yet here, last evening, the Viking ÏÏ tablet, so that I could perhaps get it on to the Google Play Store and set up accounts, get it to be a well-burgeoned tablet device for development, perhaps reading, or something along those lines.

I did notice that the tablet has a great battery life; for being new, and that large format text document reading and page-layout work would do well on the device.

I've been ruining my consumer identity around town by the hopeless drug-addict wakeful days in between taking my Olanzipine and crashing out, comfortably (mostly) during the majority of the past month. My receipts had gotten beat up, in the trawlin' slade of my small space living spot by the bathroom; the front living room is purely trash('ed) former bwammo-stent-catheter artery bleed of what could have been an au jour pigeons illustrative slight exhibition of a clean room open space notion that I had, originally, about the place.

Could I do bake sales on the SprightlySparrowSeedlings.shop notion to burgeon some sort of funding mechanism of rational museum / institute foundry leanings beyond the hapless tweaker trawl and corner "spot" neighborlyness positioning factor of the apartment, amidst the marijuana co-op "whatever;" (sigh) [perhaps] ostensibly they sell hard drugs as well, but I trust my Skid Row people to not be uncommon faces for what I'm shown' up for; plus I'd find it distasteful if I had such a trite leisurely neighborly slade of just peeking groundhog out of my sladeAF bwamm-man-cave [at least I developed - this winter - a valid cheese culture of Eggnog beginnings]; but no.

I did go out and try to get some recyclables collecting hours out on foot, and the hibernation, given the climate disparities from here: 90003.zipcode Los Angeles to DTLA - amidst the trawling slade domestic abuse living room and the self-somewhat responsibility burden that's obvious - yet I'd still say that the mess is not quite fully my own to live up and out from and claim that I'm simply so slade for domestic airtime cold and ghostly notions of what people would consider communicability; it's all very communicable via discourse and reason, considering the reality of that I would obviously consider myself a better person than that, given some words; yet the prospect of being involuntarily hospitalized is an ugly slade shade of shitsicles left unheeded, no asswipe, and there's never nothing to discover, of found-objects, for ass-wiping of an art historian humanities major of at minimum, Bachelor's Degree earning, such as myself.

That being said, I've got what appears to be a uniquely professional (now) take on a case manager for my "case," which is an off-hand strange notion, but I suppose things could be magnitudes more depraved if a person wasn't quite straight in the sladeAF pronz-on hibachi teppan-yaki sweet sauce for his own meat - flossing teeth: sometimes.

I do still feed the birds.

The Wi-Fi and BLE tethering does work; although apparently not quite well enough to outperform my trite locality of the majority of my mobile on-air and thankfully - unlimited, regardless of how slow and legacies broadband Wi-Fi heritage research I'm doing it is has had been, and I don't quite find it so inappropriate. I can hold off most things of a madman's shortcomings, yet ... "Whatever;" - perhaps. On one hand, it is a new year, and the slade of this trawl of mobile web and app development has produced all sorts of scarcely scratching the surface of just how sladeAF and out-of-Gregorian calendar timescale (perhaps particularly a California notion); yet in taking a look at internationalization of ohone number calling code distribution, the United States of America is taking on all sorts of small island Arby's beefy slim slices and pork buns, without any notion of ever needing to spare the hog much, at the end of the lifecycle, etc.

For now, I do SprightlySparrowSeedlings, of farm work, myself, and even at that, it's a returned purchases thing, as it turned out.

I've got to redeem my better notions of myself on app and ccTLDs and gTLDs, so obviously.

Work out some legal Federal Government Entity and EIN and self-sladeAF? Nah, bwam-bwipsicles shirtlessness, no doubt'nif'nin', I'd had to square it away as, as a grants and Federal funding application residual wash-up on last year's development people's funding that it had been - ostensibly, they'll perhaps acknowledge that they were just fucking around and no one did anything museum cultural agriculture Urban appreciable, in the jaunt-slade'd bwammAF slade of the snifflin'ness and a jaunted AF slade look of a real one -

Something like that.

Maybe, though, something for children - completely aside from depravity, unbeknownst.

The reach and spread of the developer documentation libraries of big tech is far burgeoned in to a discrete technical lexicographies dictattaphoneuse of what problems were caused, what presents of them, and solutions of open-source pie-slices of a bake sale, perhaps supposing that people had not jaunted a small-islands slight population Earth's orthographies topographically sladeAF, perhaps by the view of a satellite looking down upon the bwammAF of this one - way jaunted AF slade bwammo that this one's about.

"Suppose?"

Some slakeAF iPigeon « Propper » Scrum jotUps for a SprightlySparrowSupposin.jar Pop-in Hibernate: Java-based Android OS Kustom Widget of KLDT Development to Come.

Here are some original Inktober Tumblr-down-to-custom-blog site regaliae ink brush illustration works from October-ish of 2018.

These works accompany an hours-upon-hours post-trawl regaliaeux XV VVLXMMIIIpwnBwammmooooo speech of what had been jaunted as a most 

Satirically lès-ont-fourre-caricaturríesse med. poínt ink brush gestural re-jaunteded iconic pigeons-poses for mobile app and website / native operating system hibernate Java-based .jar syscall and UX egress of Analytics-remarketing-sais-non-plus-monetizable slakeAF user garbage, of objectionable concrete sidewalk-slab-flam, as it would ostensibly turn out to be, 

to pay back ostensible legions of debt, for so much bwa-bwammAF jaunted couchnights of seemly sees-it-does-it corner rug scraping bitsies-fweeking - un-rehabilitated by a Sprightly Supposin' Sparrow slakeAF of bwammo pigeons and sparrows - to get in the way of your jaunt aux-haute-bachi genetically bwa-bwammAF xoichleosure of choisçty-munchies fwam out on a couch, like that.