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Weak XLV

5 November 2025

No. 5,676 (cartoon)

I have no reservations about ruining you.

You should make one; openings are going fast.

6 November 2025

Mail Meat

A woman in Kentucky didn’t receive the medical delivery she was expecting. Apparently, there was some sort of screwup at the factory: instead of pills and potions, she got a box with human body parts. One news account says it was “human hand, fingers,” but another publication reports, “a couple of arms and four fingers.”

This is yet another example of sloppy reportage. Neither story answered the big question: was the human meat on ice or pickled in formaldehyde? If it was preserved in chemicals, then it’s off to the dump. But if she got a shipment of fresh flesh, then grab a cookbook and browse the recipes that call for pig parts.

All I know is that the sketchy story ends when the coroner shows up to collect the remains. I haven’t heard an explanation of how the mixup occurred, but I hope the woman canceled her subscription before she was billed for another delivery.

7 November 2025

Make Video Horizontal Again

Willy told me that I was prescient in my curmudgeonly whinging about vertical videos designed for phones, and sent me a catalog photo of a “Make Video Horizontal Again” stocking hat. I hope the idea catches on, but I doubt it: the youngin’s are breeding and my generation is dying off.

That’s progress!

It’s been over two years since I quoted James Thurber, but this seems like a good time for a rerun. “Progress was all right. Only it went on too long.”

And as for the hat, I like the message, but I don’t wear my politics on my sleeve, or on my head, or anywhere else. And anyway, the only time I’d wear such a cap is pulled down over my eyes while I sleep, and that’s no way to get the demand out.

8 November 2025

Fiona’s Fishy Bedroom Adventure

Fiona was still in bed when I arrived at her place this morning. I was quite chuffed when she offered me a plate of kippered herring she’d rejected; it was still on her breakfast tray beside her. She said she’d wanted to try them after reading about the delicacy in a novel, but dismissed them as inedible.

I assured her that the fishy fish wouldn’t go to waste, but she was still grumpy.

“Do you realize that I’ll probably never try anything new in bed again?” she asked. “How pathetic that it’s come to that.”

I quickly changed the subject. I generally don’t want to know about what anyone else does in bed, but I was happy to make an exception for the kippered herring.

9 November 2025

Remembering Dennis Brain

When I was fourteen, I was absolutely certain that I was going to be the best French horn player in the world. No doubt about it. I had a simple, guaranteed strategy: I’d simply work longer and harder than anyone else in general and Dennis Brain (1921-1957) in particular.

I’d pretty much forgotten about my childhood fantasy until I saw a bizarre album cover featuring Brain’s pink and purple head floating in space like a South Park character decades before the show launched.

I was happy to exchange my French horn for a Nikon a couple of years later, since practicing it four hours a day wasn’t resulting in competence, let alone virtuosity. I still wince when I remember splattering the high notes that would be forever beyond my limited range. I’m so glad that I abandoned my goal of being what Frank Zappa called a mechanic in the orchestra.

10 November 2025

Toe Clap

Minnisha told me Annalee just discovered that she has cancer. I asked her to stop there, since I’m trying to remain as ignorant about malignant growths and tumors as possible. That way, if I hear that Kiliaen has, say, cancer of the tow, then I won’t jump to any conclusions. Minnisha laughed at that, almost certainly the first and last time anyone will find anything humorous during cancer talk.

She told me a story about her college years when her roommate went to gynecologist for a mysterious malady; it was correctly diagnosed as gonorrhea of the toe. So much for my hypothetical cancer of the toe; there probably is such a flavor.

11 November 2025

Lost Cat

I saw a poster for a missing cat. That’s always sad, especially when it’s posted where coyotes roam. It was also unlike any past critter announcement I’ve ever seen in that it offered a hint of what may have happened:

Possibly upset regarding our fight about a lizard
Please call or text Sunny 415-967-927X

The obvious question is whose fight? Did Sunny and her partner argue in front of the cat, possibly leading the cat to abandon an unpleasant domestic situation where Sunny squabbled—or worse—with her partner? Or did Sunny fight with the cat over the lizard? I could see a cat doing that if someone was trying to take its reptile toy away.

In any case, poor Sunny and poor putty-tat.

Coming next weak: more of the same.

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©2025 David Glenn Rinehart