All kinds of accounting problems going on with The World Bank and the Pentagon. The bank fears budget cuts from President Trump when he gets back into office because they’ve “Lost track of $2.4 billion.” The World Bank was set up in 1944 to rebuild Europe and Japan. Now it’s become one big slush fund. Wouldn’t surprise me if “Lost track” is just another definition of theft. The Pentagon failed another audit and is unable to account for its $824 billion budget. Let’s put this in perspective here. When the IRS comes in for an audit you’re required to cough up receipts for expenditures or at least substantiate them. Why is the Federal government an exception? Many Americans are living paycheck to paycheck but Pentagon cronies continue to misappropriate funds. This is why they love a good crisis, it’s easier to siphon out tax dollars. Not to worry though, their goal is to pass an audit by 2028.
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Let’s jump to something else. The senate race in Pennsylvania is still a big mess. Senator Bob Casey is refusing to concede to Dave McCormick despite the race being called. Some ballots are being recounted by Bucks County after the State Supreme Court ruled they were, “Ineligible.” Why bother counting them and wasting another million of taxpayer money? At this rate, Bob should just pretend he won and show up for work like George Costanza. It would be just as valid.
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Ran across a documentary on the history of curses last night. It was bit odd, but still fascinating. Let’s not forget there are anti-curses too. “A thousand curses never tore a shirt” (Syrian) and from the Cajuns, “May your curses like chickens, come to roost: they shall return to you as birds to their nest.” Hadn’t thought much about curses before, but I do believe that everything we say and everything we think about somebody has energy. This can be good or bad and affect in some way the person we’re thinking about.
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Wish I had an old poem my Grandfather Murphy knew. My Grandmother wouldn’t let him recite it. All he’d get out was the first line: “The dogs. They had a picnic.” Grandma would stop him, “James Murphy you are not to recite that poem in this house!” I never did get to hear it, but my cousins did and they still laugh over it. Come to think of it, how did Grandma Murphy know it was so bad? Lot’s of mysteries in this world. Like who dumped a pregnant dog near Kim Hanson’s home? Speaking of curses, I wouldn’t mind putting one on people who abuse animals.
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It’s time to end this rackety rambling and go home. I’ll roll back into the office tomorrow. Thank heaven there’s work to do and I’m able to do it. Good joss Old Buddy. The sun’s just around the corner!
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'Til Next Week:
J.M.W.
