I remember, back in the early 80’s or so, when my brother visited me in Vancouver, BC, where I was about to graduate from engineering school. I had to pick him up at the airport in my humble Honda Civic at the time. Upon picking him up and giving him a ride, the first thing he said was, “Jesus! It smells like a French Whorehouse in here!!!” I was a little taken aback that not only had he invoked the Lord Almighty to confirm his olefactory acuity, but that he actually knew what one smelled like! I learnt that French Whorehouses smelled like a cross between perfume, cigars, beer, aftershave, my girlfriend, and engineering students’ Honda Civics. Worse, he had just come off Air Canada where he was a line pilot, and I thought *they* smelled like a French Whorehouse. A case of PKB if there ever was one. I guess I stand corrected. He was a man of the world now, and they knew their French Whorehouses at “Pee Air”.
It smells different in here, sort of a cross between formaldehyde, ammonia, cat pizz, and methyl hydrate, or a Kitty Litter box. I didn’t miss or not make it to the washroom. Where was it coming from? Then it hit me. The reaction products of biofilm, Apple Leaves, and pectinase are coming out of the pores inside my nose on top of the ones inside and outside of my body. I will have to ask my brother over when he is back in town next month or so to confirm it is just me. I just assumed it was Bartonella biofilm breaking up like crazy. Well, it may be partly that, and other biofilm too. That appears to be, or smells like, what it is breaking down to.
The other possibility is the left mump from the 50’s. There is not as much drama as with the right one when it blew a couple weeks back. It is just slowly leaking like the tire on my 4×4. There is a lot of brain drainage going on there on the left side in general, and my middle ear there has suddenly come back online, occasionally. I realize a bunch of the trouble I was having with balance now. A bunch of it is plain Physics or Fzcks as they used to write it at school. My upper body is quite a bit heavier than my lower body relative to the way it used to be, or so my restored left middle ear tells me now that I am sometimes back to balancing in stereo. Like the guys balancing those spinning plates on the stick, I can see it will be doable, but it is going to take a little practice. At work, I used to put on 6 miles before coffee on foot with a 30 pound plus survey vest on, so you get an idea that my legs were pretty good then. Now I am still struggling back to tenderfoot like my helpers who would take the rest of the day to go 9 clicks and get a blister. I feel their pain and then some.
I tried to find an upper limit for my OMG!, and particularly pectinase, experiments by getting to 3 hour 500 mg. (Size 0 capsule) doses of consumer grade pectic enzyme which is pectinase cut with maltose. It doesn’t have the concentration listed. I suspected that is where the formaldehyde and methyl hydrate start to make you feel queasy. At 4 hour intervals it makes you tired. I took a couple grams of sodium bicarbonate which is the standard first line antidote for methyl hydrate poisoning and backed off to 6 hour doses again. I just had to find out, you know. That was where it started to make me sick and was before any noticeable degradation of vision. We have a basic TCM-H Du New Herb/Chemical Testing guideline to go by now. The downside is this place smells like a Cat House, Extra Pussy. Tigger, I feel… err, Smell, your pain. lulz
Kitty Litter is basically Diatomaceous Earth. Since your body is a temple, or so I have heard, and now we have cats in it, I think we had better put this on the shopping list. It’s gettin’ a little high in here. My litter box is definitely full. Unfortunately, we can’t find the cat, but we sure know it’s here *Somewhere!* OMG!, is it EVER! I suspect the little whore snuck in ridin’ GMO’s, and it won’t leave our cushy arrangement, so now we are its pet, whether we like it or not. It’s like my old girlfriend’s old wild cat that used to sneak in and steal all the Official Cat food. Being wild, he wasn’t exactly litter trained. She caught him and left him here 5 years ago during another big salmon run year. He thought he had died and gone to heaven, and I haven’t seen “Jabba” since. He may be a snack for the fish birds here by now, but at least he died happy. When I took a turn for the worse, and went into what turns out to be a biofilm festival, she dumped me too.
Hillary 2016, ”At this point, What difference does it make?”, says we should start listening to our scientists over Global Warming. I suspect she is deaf to Richard Lindzen at MIT. I prefer to pick my scientists by merit like Dr. Stephanie Seneff, also at MIT, and given the Clinton body of “work,” they are/”is” also deaf to/too. I hear the other ones, but really pick the shzt out of their body of work. I guess it all depends what is “is.” If it smells like a French Whorehouse, maybe it “is” sometimes, like the Whitehouse or La Honda. Just add French Whores! Monsanto has a fresh supply chompin’ at the bit, obviously. Her Russian sucked, and Bill didn’t think much of her “French,” either. YMMV. We didn’t exactly go there to “La Maison Du Chat” to “chit chat,” IYKWIM! At this point, we know the only thing that is gonna save America is a cross of OMG!™, Wild Apple Leaves, and Ralph “Unsafe at ANY Sprayed!” Nader. Cemeteries fulla Democrats may win elections, but what then? lulz
What if animals could vote, levelling the playing field with genetic fingerprint? It would be a landslide for OMG!™ Antidote Party vs. ©OP’s vs. ‘B®ATS. It is kind of a non sequitur though. Anyway, I was out working a bit and it tuckered me out. Add all that after physio with the Big Guitar, and I am po0ped, not even attaching the strap yet. Worse yet, my litter ain’t in the shztter yet. Give it time, I guess.