Stop the heresy!

Reminded myself today of the manic pace of Twitter, chockful of repetition [which I can live with, as long as I have the license to roll my eyes].

But there’s also lethal advice posing as healthy lifestyle choices.

Take note…

— “You don’t need coffee, drink water.” (I’m an ardent follower of my good friend’s dad mantra: “Hey, water just rusts my pipes.”)
— “You don’t need chocolate & sweets–eat fruit.” (Unless that fruit is nestled inside puff pastry, that whack-job needs to be rooted out and summarily dismissed to a low-bandwidth principality..)

So, retired folks, be wary. Stay vigilant. The Internet is crawling with loons like this.

Nap well, my friends.

Cuppa joe? Bald no mo’.

Now just calm down everybody. I’m not trying to sell anything here. Unless, of course–okay, never mind.

***

Having just learned why deer don’t eat daffodils, I moved on to uses for stale coffee beans. (Not at all related, but that’s the thing, retired guys, why waste time on linear thinking?)

Son of a gun if I didn’t run across some life-changing tips…

Coffee Affection tells me to use it on my scalp to stimulate hair growth and improve its texture.

I can see it now (assuming anyone would be seen in public with me)…

Desperate friend in need of social contact: Oooh! I’m smelling some nice Italian Roast.
Me (tilting my head toward him): Yep, double-duty! Great with my morning scone and an hour later, the dregs were in my scalp.
Desperate friend (flicking soggy grounds off my shoulder): You are supposed to rinse’em out, right?
Me: Eventually. But the ski cap contains it pretty well…Hey, where you going?

***

Glad someone’s checking on me…

Yep, thank God for email connections. Question: If I don’t respond to this, will the U.N. (or, more precisely, the ‘United Nations Organization’) assume I’m dead? I’d better clear that up.

I’m also wondering if someone with ‘Oliver’ in the email address really IS all that interested in my welfare.

But hold on now…he’s with the United Nations, so of course he’s concerned.

What makes Oliver think I might be splayed across the recliner with some air fryer infomercial blaring at me? Have I given off a ‘near-death’ vibe lately?

But really, how DARE Google question the validity of this message…

It’s not as if anyone would send anything illegitimate via the Internet, would they?