Notices by M.S. Bellows, Jr. (msbellows@c.im), page 5

@david @Archergal @ChuckMcManis @peterrenshaw @ai6yr I rode a brakeless bike for a whole year in college. Lived on campus so no streets with cars (yay U.C. Davis!), stopped by being off the bike path onto any nearby lawn and going in circles until I stopped. Friends were shocked until they realized I was the only one of us who *hadn't* been in a bike accident that year, because I (a) paid more attention and (b) never got rearended and caused a pileup because I had unexpectedly hit my brakes in a crowded bike circle (a really common problem back then, esp at the start of each year when new freshmen were unfamiliar with bike circles and didn't yet realize the importance of matching speeds with everyone else).

Bright orange Sears 10-speed with the ramhorns rotated up. All I could afford, and immune from theft.

@newsguyusa Odds that Trump is indicting 94-year-old Raul Castro as an excuse to invade the country to "arrest" him?

It's election day in Oregon and many other places. And it's too late to have ballots postmarked today, because Trump's postmaster general has changed the rules so postmarks aren't necessarily done the same day something is mailed. So please vote, and please drop your ballot in a dropbox instead of a mailbox.

I hope that today, yikes, it burns *again* when John Roberts pees, for the third day in a row, and he finally mentions it to his wife, which is a mistake because she later notices that it burns a little when she pees, too, and she privately messages her concierge gynecologist for an appointment and when they go to their Catholic church this morning she gives him a questioning, slightly accusatory look as he enters the confessional.

I hope today it burns when John Roberts pees.

Today I hope John Roberts' hip still hurts and his throat is still sore, and that he's giving a speech to the Federalist Society tonight and has to take a long walk and then up stairs to the podium which aggravates his hip and the amplification isn't very good so he has to try to speak loudly and he's really uncomfortable and the crowd isn't very impressed with him because his gimpy limp and faint voice make him seem weak, which is never a good look among fascists.

I hope that last night John Roberts had his first erotic dream in a long time and it was super realistic and intense and pleasurable but the person he was with in the dream was Brett Kavanaugh who at one point sort of transformed into Clarence Thomas and then it was the three of them together and so all day today he feels sort of awkward around Brett and Clarence.

Today I hope John Roberts develops athlete's foot and it's really cracked and painful and burny.

Today because it's 68° and sunny in DC I hope John Roberts goes for a walk to see the cherry blossoms but they're not quite open yet and he knows he's really busy for the next 2-3 weeks and won't be able to make time to come see them at their peak and that makes him sad.

I hope that when John Roberts got home from work tonight, he was juggling his briefcase and a couple loose books and a bottle of wine someone gave him and managed to awkwardly get his right middle finger in the way as he slammed the heavy door of his Mercedes and it damn near broke it and at least jammed the joint, and now it's substantially swollen and turning purple and the whole thing throbs with pain with every pulse over and over and over even though he's taken too much ibuprofen and is applying ice, and he might lose his fingernail, and also he dropped the wine when he klutzed out and the bottle broke on his driveway and despite his pain he really needs to go sweep it up.

Today I hope John Roberts is finding it difficult to work because his jaw pain kept him awake last night and now he's really, really sleepy.

Today I hope John Roberts awoke with a sore jaw because all the small bad things that have been happening to him every day for the last couple of months are cumulatively starting to overwhelm him with cortisol and he has begun to grind his teeth at night, and later today he learns that the grinding has made his teeth super sensitive and how he learns this is that he sips a cold drink and experiences a sharp jab of pain right through his skull and also his jaw keeps clicking in a weird way.

I hope that last night John Roberts had insomnia and couldn't fall asleep until 6 a.m. and then his alarm went off at 6:30, and he's pretty sure the "decaf" his wife served after dinner accidentally wasn't decaf, and then he remembers that (unusually for her) she had Sleepytime tea instead of coffee, and now he's wondering whether it was really accidental.

I hope that last night John Roberts' wife didn't come home from yesterday's #NoKings protest until 3:00 a.m., and that when John awoke and saw her with her clothes rumpled, her hair disheveled, and her makeup smeared, he exclaimed, oh my God, did the protest turn violent?and she answered icily, my God, could you be more naive? and headed for the shower.

I hope that this morning John Roberts awakens pleasantly horny and happy because Saturday mornings traditionally are when he and his wife make love and then she makes her special super-hot, super-fluffy waffles, and before he even opens his eyes he extends a gently probing foot to touch her lovely warm body and initiate a cuddle but his foot finds only a cold empty bed, and then he gets up and wanders downstairs to a cold empty kitchen because his wife is at a #NoKings protest, and she didn't even set up the coffeemaker for him.

Today I hope that, yep, John Roberts is losing that fingernail because of the giant blood clot that formed, painfully, underneath it last night.

I hope today John Roberts realizes that Clarence Thomas and Samuel Alito probably will retire before the end of T's term so T can attempt to name their replacements the way Obama never got to because RBG was too stubborn, and that that makes him sad because them leaving literally will eliminate half of the friendships he's had in his entire miserable life.

I hope that this morning, as he transitioned through that productive, liminal state halfway between sleeping and waking, John Roberts was struck with the unpromped insight that all his success as a student and lawyer was born of a pathological need to please his overdemanding, vicariously ambitious father, and that he stumbles through the rest of the day with a surprisingly strong, even pathetic feeling of sadness that he actually should have been a professional sailor or large animal vet.

I hope nothing bad whatsoever happens to John Roberts today!

Ha ha April fools no seriously I actually hope he slips on a banana peel and breaks his elbow and has to be taken to the emergency department and today's oral argument on birthright citizenship has to be rescheduled for sometime in the next term of court and Trump's illegal order remains stayed until then.

I hope that someone keys John Roberts' car today, and not just shallowly so that it'll buff but all the way through the clear coat into the paint.