I flew east today. Weather enroute. Landed at RDU about 2 pm and it was a bumpy approach. Pilot had mentioned “low ceilings” and nobody had their window open so I was in a closed off box and couldn't see outside and had no idea where we were and so feared a missed approach the whole way until I felt a big “bump” and realized we had touched down. Yay, I get to live another day. First class roast chicken was good. I will NEVER fly in the back again. All they do in first class is treat you like a human.  Been raining cats and dogs here ever since. My Uber driver was named Mohammed. He was actually a righteous man, we had a good conversation about how to do right by your spouse.

I had a thoracotomy in 2005.  For several years following the surgery, I would occasionally have the distinct sensation that the skin on my stomach was wet.   a strange sensation...

When my feet are bare I still feel like I have socks on.  I was recently told I have moderate peripheral neuropathy in my feet and can't feel cold sensation anymore so I bet that's what's going on there. The doctor wants to put me on a ZERO carb diet. No low, zero. I still don't have diabetes, just pre-diabetes but apparently that can cause PN too.

In related news, the Boy Scouts are removing the term “boy” from their name.

I’m so sick of this shit.

Why don't those who are fighting hardest for a new communist / socialist America realize that they will be the first ones up against the wall when it happens?

Because they don’t know history.

I'm so pissed off about all this.

I am extremely angry about what they’re doing to Trump but on the bright side, it only seems to be increasing his popularity.

Peter had been in Police work for 25 years.
Finally sick of the stress, he quits his job and buys fifty acres of land in Alaska as far away from humanity as possible...
He sees the postman once a week and gets groceries once a month... Otherwise, it's total peace and quiet.
After six months or so of almost total isolation, someone knocks on his door... He opens it and a huge, bearded man is standing there.
"Name's Cliff, your neighbour from forty miles up the road. Having a party Friday night. Thought you might like to come at about 5:00..."
"Great", says Peter, "after six months out here I'm ready to meet some local folks. Thank you...!"
As Cliff is leaving, he stops. "Gotta warn you. Be some drinking."
"Not a problem," says Peter. "After twenty five years in the business, I can drink with the best of 'em."
Again, the big man starts to leave and stops. "More 'n' likely gonna be some fighting too."
"Well, I get along with people. I'll be all right! I'll be there. Thanks again."
"More'n likely be some wild sex too."
"Now that's really not a problem!" says Peter, warming to the idea. "I've been all alone for six months! I'll definitely be there. By the way, what should I wear?"
"Don't much matter. Just gonna be the two of us."