Stupid Brain

It appears I have reached that certain age. 

I had the second line written in my head, but now I can't seem to remember it. Oh yeah, I have reached that certain age where my short term memory seems to dying out like the candle in the bathroom that's supposed to make my 2nd office smell like mint and eucalyptus. 

Note to self: Order more scented candles and maybe get a housekeeper.

When I worked in an actual office I had an older boss, Lee Clow (maybe you've heard of him) who used to berate himself and complain about his CRS -- Can't Remember Shit Syndrome. It must be a late contagion. And it must have morphed into something Ms. Muse likes to call Location Blindness. Which is best demonstrated by the following phrases which we both utter with unsettling frequency, for example...

"Where are my glasses?"

"Did I leave my phone upstairs?"

"I can't find the car. Did we Uber here?"

What's worse, is the thing, be it keys, accessories, or even cars, we are looking for, are often right under our noses. 

I'm no lawyer, though I spent the better part of the last month in a courtroom watching a man who founded VagiKool (go ahead and Google it) try to squeeze $4 million out of a hospital on a laughable malpractice lawsuit, but if I were Donald Trump --and thank god I'm not -- I'd give this CRS or LB syndrome a good looking in to. 

Particularly as a defense to the THIRTY EIGHT count indictment he now faces. 

Turns out his lawyers in the Mara Lago documents case have abandoned him and let him sink to the bottom like a shabbilly built ocean diving submersible. But it doesn't seem too far fetched for a 78 year old man, suffering from the stresses of life (triple putting the 15th hole at Doral), to claim...

"I was looking for my red plaid golf pants and came across these plans for a two tiered pincing attack on the Iraniain Revolutionary Guard. I forgot I even had these. The good news is I found my pants. They're my favorite golf pants because they're made of Sansabelt, we all love the Sansabelt."

I seemed to have digressed.

Oh yeah, maybe I should be taking some nootropics. Those sketchy brain-enhancing supplements that are endorsed by experts like Joe Rogan, that allegedly increase cognitive function. 

Loyal readers of the blog, all 8 of them, might recall that John Robaire and I did a good deal of work for TruBrain not so long ago. Here's an illustration that still adorns their website:

In fact, now might be a good time to cash in those 2200 shares of stock I was given as renumeration. They might actually be worth something. 

If I could only find stock certificate?

Doh!