Wet and gloomy. Pelting rain. I went on evening errands, cut them short to just get CUfB basics. Bacon was cheap - $2.99, but probably a loss leader. Cheese holding steady. Lettuce down. Orange juice, absurd.
They are promoting a new cereal:
As usual, it is ENLARGED TO SHOW TEXTURE, because when we're choosing cereals we're always keen to know precisely what the texture is.
Leaning in big on the Z spellings here, for hip reasons:
Wait a minute. I just figured it out. Broadus Foods. As in Calvin.
The YouTube page announcing the cereal's introduction has 27 views.
Well, let's see if there's anything else that's interesting in the new product world . . .
I don't know whether to laugh, cry, or pour it over weekend French toast.
As I may have said, I went downtown Sunday morning to take pictures for a piece I have in the paper next week. This was the other part of the building you saw yesterday, vandalized by the usual crew of morons.
A nice old 1952 building, abandoned, and presumably slated for redevelopment.
The purpose of the story was to dance on the grave, or the upcoming grave, of the YWCA building. It's a Brutalist monster.
More on that when the piece runs.
The area has one of downtown's largest open spaces:
It used to be filled with water.
The fountains that surround it are also of the "Concrete Has a Unique Aesthetic!" school:
Looks like a sci-fi city set in the desert. Better with water.
The YWCA in the background:
People love Peavey Plaza because it's a nice place on a summer day, with the water and the greenery, but honestly . . . this is not an inspirational site. This is like the Anti-Trevi. There is a bleakness to the site when the water dies, and arrogant indifference in that Y.
Across the street, by a stolid old church:
Aspiration.
And now, the weekly dream-journal entry, illustrated by AI, because that's what this week is all about.
I sat down at a table in the newsroom, and there was a fellow who looked like Walt Disney, His suit had a big signature that said ALL THE BEST, WALT in the familiar script. I sat down and said “anyone every told you that you look like Walt Disney?” I introduced myself and said I wrote for one of the publication he owned, and he laughed and said he hoped it wasn’t the one that was full of Nazis, and looked around for approval from everyone else. I excused myself and went to another part of the newsroom, thinking “that’s the third time I’ve met him and this happens every time.”
The suit was a new touch, though.
Prompt: well, not much here, just Walt in a corporate setting.
These are from the Bing AI art generator, Rockwell style.
What is happening to Mickey in the upper-right?
Crack work there, Tiny:
When Lance lights up before he's made an arrest, this thing is surely in the bag. Solution is here.
This year's old newspaper feature: a social no-no single-panel illustration. Can you figure out what's wrong?
The answer will be provided on Monday. PROMISE. That gives you an entire day to speculate in the comments!
Now two ways to chip in!
That will do! Thank you for your visits, and I'll see you on Monday.
