Such a major pain in the butt.
The printer is hardly ever used. The ink cartridges cannot be kept in the printer or they will dry out. So after each use the two cartridges, one for black, the other for colors, are removed, Scotch tape placed over the exposed electronic bits and the exposed ink dispenser, as they are when they're new, put in a plastic sandwich bag and placed in the refrigerator until the next time the printer is needed.
The colors are not true so replacements ordered. These things are expensive as f.
The printing project has a two day window. The cartridges arrived on time. Put into the printer and nothing. No test marks, no marks whatsoever. The old cartridges work, but poorly. The new cartridges nothing. In order to have the project done, I hopped in the truck and drove to Office Max and bought two more cartridges. They worked brilliantly.
Off to Amazon to leave a scathing review.
Then I thought, why not just tell the vendor what happened and give them a chance to respond?
At Amazon, "please limit your message to 4,000 characters."
That again!
Fine. I'll write like Hemingway's terse war messages.
"Please allow two days for response."
This was late at night. They responded in twenty minutes.
"Sorry this happened. We'll send replacements to you and refund the full amount immediately."
!
They're paying me back twice. I thought now I must leave a positive review but not mention the details because telling the story like this suggests ideas to morally weak for fraud.
Oops.
Please don't do that.
Sunday, June 24, 2018
Oh, how we laughed and laughed.
I meant to say, how I laughed. At two things. Yelp reviews of Red Hen and comments to Yahoo article on Melania Trump's message-raincoat.
Red Hen, Lexington & Yelp
As you know Sarah Huckabee and group were dismissed from Red Hen restaurant. People pro and con went straight to Yelp. Yelp put up this message:
Good Lord, these people have imaginations. And they straight up lie. About getting food poisoning, then they give themselves away by including something political.
Let's read some. So you can laugh too.
You have to read through a ton of code for the page, and then this:
Red Hen, Lexington & Yelp
As you know Sarah Huckabee and group were dismissed from Red Hen restaurant. People pro and con went straight to Yelp. Yelp put up this message:
This business recently made waves in the news, which often means that people come to this page to post their views on the news.But part of some of the messages still show. Just barely. They're faded by 99%. How frustrating! I want to read them. If they show partially, that means at least some are still there. B-click to "view source" of the page. Sure enough, there they are. At least some of them.
While we don’t take a stand one way or the other when it comes to these news events, we do work to remove both positive and negative posts that appear to be motivated more by the news coverage itself than the reviewer’s personal consumer experience with the business.
As a result, your posts to this page may be removed as part of our cleanup process beginning Saturday, June 23, 2018, but you should feel free to post your thoughts about the recent media coverage for this business on Yelp Talk at any time.
Good Lord, these people have imaginations. And they straight up lie. About getting food poisoning, then they give themselves away by including something political.
Let's read some. So you can laugh too.
You have to read through a ton of code for the page, and then this:
Westword Music Showcase
They're done.
Now it's going to be clang, clang, clang, clink, clang, clink, diddly-diddly-clink, clang, clang, scrape, clang for the rest of the night as they disassemble their festival tents and their temporary fencing, and pack up all their equipment.
We get one day of music, my neighbors and I get three days of noise and disruption.
This photo is from Westword Music Showcase 2018, but the photo was taken last year. The photo is shot from our party room balcony. Best of all places to watch but our management shut it down because uninvited visitors were so rude! A few years ago the whole place was packed with people I never saw before and who don't live here. There I was talking to this guy and he was cracking up laughing just by me telling him what happened the previous week when I got a bit ill several blocks from home. I thought walking would heal me but it made it worse. I ended up at Buckhorn Exchange, the place with all the dead animals all over the walls and ceilings, and the woman told me that they had just stopped serving lunch but I could have lunch upstairs. The stairs are tight, old wooden staircase, multi-level, and dauntingly steep. I demonstrated to the guy my unsteadiness, hanging onto the railing and looking upward, speaking confidently but showing physical weakness, "Oh good. I can do that. Sure. Yes. I can do that. I always wanted to go up there." Then swing around on the pole with knees buckling while holding a steady gaze upward as if determined to boldly face the challenge of the stairs. "Uh, er, maybe it's best if you stay down here. I'll have the cook stay for you." This is where the guy cracked up laughing, it really was ridiculous. I left an extra $20.00 tip for the cook because I could tell he was pissed off by having to serve a late customer. "WHAT?" I heard him bitching back there in the kitchen. And all I had was a bowl of bean soup.
They make very good bean soup. Here's the recipe. Know what's weird? When you approach the place you can smell grilled meat for blocks around. Weird meat. Buffalo, alligator, lamb, pheasant, stuff like that. Then their recipe calls for liquid smoke (!) You should try it. I bought a bottle of Liquid Smoke just for these beans.
Then I told the guy, "I've seen every music festival they've had from up here. It's the best view." And a woman I who I don't know, never saw, overheard that and she turned around and actually said directly to me, "Well maybe you should leave so others can see it." As if their seeing depended on me leaving. She is beautiful. Thin as a rail, well dressed, blond. Pale. Very young. And I looked at her and I said, "How rude!" (Skinny little bitch) Then she turned back around and danced. She pressed her back against my back to irritate me and to make me feel uncomfortable and unnecessarily crowded. But the thing is, she's so light, so weightless, she was like a feather tickling my back. Actually kind of pleasant. Intrusion fail.
I liked it.
I related this to management, friends of mine, and boom, no more visitors up there for music festival. I didn't intend that. The same with parking. We have the best parking around. But, NO PARKING FOR YOU! We're extremely jealous of our parking. We actually pay people to hang around waiting for infraction then have cars towed off. Both downstairs inside the garage and upper level, the roof of the garage. You'll see in my photos available parking just wasted. The best of all possible parking. Wasted.
Now it's going to be clang, clang, clang, clink, clang, clink, diddly-diddly-clink, clang, clang, scrape, clang for the rest of the night as they disassemble their festival tents and their temporary fencing, and pack up all their equipment.
We get one day of music, my neighbors and I get three days of noise and disruption.
This photo is from Westword Music Showcase 2018, but the photo was taken last year. The photo is shot from our party room balcony. Best of all places to watch but our management shut it down because uninvited visitors were so rude! A few years ago the whole place was packed with people I never saw before and who don't live here. There I was talking to this guy and he was cracking up laughing just by me telling him what happened the previous week when I got a bit ill several blocks from home. I thought walking would heal me but it made it worse. I ended up at Buckhorn Exchange, the place with all the dead animals all over the walls and ceilings, and the woman told me that they had just stopped serving lunch but I could have lunch upstairs. The stairs are tight, old wooden staircase, multi-level, and dauntingly steep. I demonstrated to the guy my unsteadiness, hanging onto the railing and looking upward, speaking confidently but showing physical weakness, "Oh good. I can do that. Sure. Yes. I can do that. I always wanted to go up there." Then swing around on the pole with knees buckling while holding a steady gaze upward as if determined to boldly face the challenge of the stairs. "Uh, er, maybe it's best if you stay down here. I'll have the cook stay for you." This is where the guy cracked up laughing, it really was ridiculous. I left an extra $20.00 tip for the cook because I could tell he was pissed off by having to serve a late customer. "WHAT?" I heard him bitching back there in the kitchen. And all I had was a bowl of bean soup.
They make very good bean soup. Here's the recipe. Know what's weird? When you approach the place you can smell grilled meat for blocks around. Weird meat. Buffalo, alligator, lamb, pheasant, stuff like that. Then their recipe calls for liquid smoke (!) You should try it. I bought a bottle of Liquid Smoke just for these beans.
Then I told the guy, "I've seen every music festival they've had from up here. It's the best view." And a woman I who I don't know, never saw, overheard that and she turned around and actually said directly to me, "Well maybe you should leave so others can see it." As if their seeing depended on me leaving. She is beautiful. Thin as a rail, well dressed, blond. Pale. Very young. And I looked at her and I said, "How rude!" (Skinny little bitch) Then she turned back around and danced. She pressed her back against my back to irritate me and to make me feel uncomfortable and unnecessarily crowded. But the thing is, she's so light, so weightless, she was like a feather tickling my back. Actually kind of pleasant. Intrusion fail.
I liked it.
I related this to management, friends of mine, and boom, no more visitors up there for music festival. I didn't intend that. The same with parking. We have the best parking around. But, NO PARKING FOR YOU! We're extremely jealous of our parking. We actually pay people to hang around waiting for infraction then have cars towed off. Both downstairs inside the garage and upper level, the roof of the garage. You'll see in my photos available parking just wasted. The best of all possible parking. Wasted.
This is the size of the crowd compacted close to the stage near the end of the show. The stage cannot be seen from my apartment. I'm dead center of the inside of a U-shaped building, the bottom of the U, middle of the stack of floors. This view is just around the corner. A side of the U blocks the view. My view is the opposite end of this crowd, not shown in this photo, the crowd thins out farther away from the stage, where food and drinks are. Our building is in the middle of the block, this is the end of the block. Underneath the railing that's showing, the alley is blocked off for equipment trucks. There is another similar stage two short blocks down the hill. At times from my apartment the sounds were like dueling concerts. There are three more venues (I think), possibly four, across the street in front of our building, inside local clubs. These clubs attract huge crowds.
You can tell when the concert is winding down when they play brief covers of familiar melodies, such as they do at sports arenas. The band plays just a few bars and the crowd sings along, or hums, or makes the appropriate noise in tune. They played the familiar opening of Seven Nation Army and the entire crowd goes, "dah-dah-DAH-duh-dah Dah-Dah." repeatedly. But then the band never sang the whole song. And it's a cool song to. The whole point was to get the crowd to participate the familiar opening.
And I must say, the crowd sounds great singing that too. They have very good voices and fine senses of tune.
I'm gonna FIGHT em all.
A seven nation army couldn't hold me back.
They're gonna rip it off
Taking their time right behind my back.
Back rhymes with back. How clever.
There are a couple of more songs that they do this crowd-participation in familiar melody thing, minus the complete song. And it works. Everyone knows they're nearing the end of the festival.
Ah, young people. I love you so much. Your energy to burn is attractive. All good clean fun. Then it's back to work for you. Blowing off steam in like-minded crowds.
This is practice. This self-aggregation. Self-collecting based on vibes. This is the lower, slower energy analog to a higher, faster energy reality. This is the shadow of angelic corps. And while here, every bit as fascinating.
I can smell hotdogs.
That top balcony has smaller version of the Big Green Egg. And those cannot be used here. Neither can the grill on the balcony below it. I'm giving mine away tomorrow. The guys were stunned that I offered it. They tried to convince me to sell it. That's how conservative they are, in practice. But honestly, having it in the place that I want it to be means more to me than the cash from a sale. It's like new. It's value is about $500.00. It's a very good gift.
This is the wasted parking. These people drifted in via the breezeway. Bottom left is the roll-up door for the garage. Push a button on our key fob and voop, the door opens fast as a Star Trek door except a lot bigger. So all that available parking underneath is wasted too. They could have made a small fortune renting the space for a day.
Notice how thin everyone is. This right here is proof that statistics on American obesity are bogus. I don't know how they collect their information, but however they do, their studies are deeply flawed. Young Americans are not fat.
Saturday, June 23, 2018
Trump Time
Our entire country is temporarily insane.
But that's only online and on t.v.
In real life it just isn't so. These two ersatz realities do not match the reality in which we live and breath. And that's why it's good to get out and see it for what it really is.
For example, Just this instant the sounds outdoors escalated from zero to eleven. Westword (a local newspaper with office two blocks away) is hosting their music showcase. It takes the whole immediate neighborhood. (But not around them) The largest stage is the parking lot below my balcony. It's a bit annoying and a lot of fun. Half the alley is blocked by a large Coors truck, so that limits egress to the south exit from our garage. For three days, we must turn left to get out. Then when we do, a gigantic trash bin, the kind that appears at demolitions, two of them, are positioned right there on the street blocking view of oncoming traffic. It's an accident in waiting. Today the whole place will be crawling with music lovers. Young people slow walking all over the place for blocks around. Parking a major intensity. Right now they're testing amps. The little tents that you see are set up selling things nobody usually wants. Except for beer.
The ink that I bought to make beer labels is 100% dry. Nothing came out of both containers, black and colors. I need the labels tomorrow so that meant driving to Staples or Office Max to buy them again locally. And that put me right next to a Safeway grocery store in my old neighborhood where I used to go all the time. They've remodeled entirely. The whole place looks more splendid. Fruits and vegetables pouring out of the place. After marveling at the improvements I noticed they don't have shitaki mushrooms. What a bummer! I spoke to the workers there more than you usually do. I engaged each person conversationally as they assisted one way or another and to a person each one extended their usual service. Each person responded positively to simply being treated as a person and not so much as an employee. I wish you could see the very broad and genuine smiles on their faces when I told them they are helpful, that they make a good team, and so on. They are nothing at all like the people read about online and seen in videos online. These people, mostly young people but not entirely, are too busy to notice the things we concentrate on. For them politics exists as a ghost. They would have no idea what we are talking about and reading about.
I've encountered a dozen to twenty articles about the Time magazine cover. A magazine that hardly even exists. They're purposefully provocative or else they'd have no existence at all. I haven't read a single one. I avoided all articles about Democrats clamoring. I avoided all articles about Never Trumpers clamoring for attention. I know what they said and wrote by the headlines and my bag of fucks to give is empty. Nil set. So headline after headline after headline, skip, skip, skip. No reading for me. All my bookmarks are worthless presently.
Meanwhile my president is sailing. And media is going insane. Celebrities are coming unglued. Activists are energized over nothing, over their losing, over their desperation, they're creating insanity out of thin air and we already know they don't give a shit about their issues because they were quiet about the same things previously. They're looking for issues, scrounging for issues, demanding attention. So I don't give it to them. No energy for you!
Here, have a thing wot I dun. This did take a bit of energy. But only because I used to really like Time magazine. They taught me to read. I relied on them for information. Then as they sank they taught me to read through them. They taught me to read them as a bunch of bumbling fumbling flailing idiots. They couldn't propagandize their way out of a paper bag. There are dozens of these parodies. Here's a couple. Here's mine.
I'll be busy today doing stuff in the real world. Not reading about Democrats worried about midterms and instigating insanity.
But that's only online and on t.v.
In real life it just isn't so. These two ersatz realities do not match the reality in which we live and breath. And that's why it's good to get out and see it for what it really is.
For example, Just this instant the sounds outdoors escalated from zero to eleven. Westword (a local newspaper with office two blocks away) is hosting their music showcase. It takes the whole immediate neighborhood. (But not around them) The largest stage is the parking lot below my balcony. It's a bit annoying and a lot of fun. Half the alley is blocked by a large Coors truck, so that limits egress to the south exit from our garage. For three days, we must turn left to get out. Then when we do, a gigantic trash bin, the kind that appears at demolitions, two of them, are positioned right there on the street blocking view of oncoming traffic. It's an accident in waiting. Today the whole place will be crawling with music lovers. Young people slow walking all over the place for blocks around. Parking a major intensity. Right now they're testing amps. The little tents that you see are set up selling things nobody usually wants. Except for beer.
The ink that I bought to make beer labels is 100% dry. Nothing came out of both containers, black and colors. I need the labels tomorrow so that meant driving to Staples or Office Max to buy them again locally. And that put me right next to a Safeway grocery store in my old neighborhood where I used to go all the time. They've remodeled entirely. The whole place looks more splendid. Fruits and vegetables pouring out of the place. After marveling at the improvements I noticed they don't have shitaki mushrooms. What a bummer! I spoke to the workers there more than you usually do. I engaged each person conversationally as they assisted one way or another and to a person each one extended their usual service. Each person responded positively to simply being treated as a person and not so much as an employee. I wish you could see the very broad and genuine smiles on their faces when I told them they are helpful, that they make a good team, and so on. They are nothing at all like the people read about online and seen in videos online. These people, mostly young people but not entirely, are too busy to notice the things we concentrate on. For them politics exists as a ghost. They would have no idea what we are talking about and reading about.
I've encountered a dozen to twenty articles about the Time magazine cover. A magazine that hardly even exists. They're purposefully provocative or else they'd have no existence at all. I haven't read a single one. I avoided all articles about Democrats clamoring. I avoided all articles about Never Trumpers clamoring for attention. I know what they said and wrote by the headlines and my bag of fucks to give is empty. Nil set. So headline after headline after headline, skip, skip, skip. No reading for me. All my bookmarks are worthless presently.
Meanwhile my president is sailing. And media is going insane. Celebrities are coming unglued. Activists are energized over nothing, over their losing, over their desperation, they're creating insanity out of thin air and we already know they don't give a shit about their issues because they were quiet about the same things previously. They're looking for issues, scrounging for issues, demanding attention. So I don't give it to them. No energy for you!
Here, have a thing wot I dun. This did take a bit of energy. But only because I used to really like Time magazine. They taught me to read. I relied on them for information. Then as they sank they taught me to read through them. They taught me to read them as a bunch of bumbling fumbling flailing idiots. They couldn't propagandize their way out of a paper bag. There are dozens of these parodies. Here's a couple. Here's mine.
Friday, June 22, 2018
It's been a good week
Got some work done, it is only 92 degrees now and it will cool off nicely this evening. While posting a picture I noticed a picture I took on January 17th - how quickly we forget.
That snapshot made me think to take another one right now from the same vantage point:
What a difference five months makes.
Marine to be imprisoned for involvement with hate group.
Story comes from some place called MSN. But they didn't have the photo. That comes from a tweet generated by ProPublica.
Both places have more words. Turns out the guy's name is Vasillios Pistolis, he's nineteen years old and he's a neo-Nazi and he bragged about cracking skulls at a Unite the Right rally in Charlottesville last August.
The tweet has more words that go deeper into neo-Naizland.
Well, it takes all kinds.
Neither of the links mentions his gay porn videos where he bottoms but maybe I just imagined that part. Can you see him? Can you see him? Boy, that camouflage sure does work. I totally missed him the first look.
Both places have more words. Turns out the guy's name is Vasillios Pistolis, he's nineteen years old and he's a neo-Nazi and he bragged about cracking skulls at a Unite the Right rally in Charlottesville last August.
The tweet has more words that go deeper into neo-Naizland.
Well, it takes all kinds.
Neither of the links mentions his gay porn videos where he bottoms but maybe I just imagined that part. Can you see him? Can you see him? Boy, that camouflage sure does work. I totally missed him the first look.
Flavored beer
Paul told me he intends to flavor half his beer raspberry. This happens on Sunday when we bottle the ten gallons, two five-gallon buckets.
I don't like that idea.
Here's the thing, Padawan, students must first master the basics before messing around with variations on a theme. What are you Mozart? And the flavor that is added at bottling can be flavor that's added at pouring. You risk ruining half your first batch by messing around with unknowns.
Silly unknowns at that.
But Paul doesn't listen to reason. Once his mind is set, it's set. You'll notice a certain pride that dummkopfs take in their stubbornness. It cannot be remedied.
Therefore, I'll show him how he intends to ruin his perfectly good first beer.
The bottle-shop downstairs next to this brewing company that gives lessons has a surprisingly broad range of flavored beers. Several duplicates, lime, Mandarin orange, strawberry, watermelon, raspberry-blueberry, passion fruit, coconut, acai, mango, guava, weird shit like banana bread, cucumber mint, sour pickle, sour raspberry, peach. Flavors you do not expect in beer.
This pineapple one isn't half bad.
I don't like that idea.
Here's the thing, Padawan, students must first master the basics before messing around with variations on a theme. What are you Mozart? And the flavor that is added at bottling can be flavor that's added at pouring. You risk ruining half your first batch by messing around with unknowns.
Silly unknowns at that.
But Paul doesn't listen to reason. Once his mind is set, it's set. You'll notice a certain pride that dummkopfs take in their stubbornness. It cannot be remedied.
Therefore, I'll show him how he intends to ruin his perfectly good first beer.
The bottle-shop downstairs next to this brewing company that gives lessons has a surprisingly broad range of flavored beers. Several duplicates, lime, Mandarin orange, strawberry, watermelon, raspberry-blueberry, passion fruit, coconut, acai, mango, guava, weird shit like banana bread, cucumber mint, sour pickle, sour raspberry, peach. Flavors you do not expect in beer.
This pineapple one isn't half bad.
But not as good as his plain light beer already tastes. The hops in his beer is not so aggressive. None of us like bitter flavor. It's actually light flavored with an interesting spice-like complexity.
I learned something about all the grains they have back there in bins like the bulk section of Whole Foods except even more extensive. Only a small portion is wheat. And all of them are toasted to an extent, to halt germination, the process of malting, some roasted lightly and others more deeply like coffee beans. Some roasted severely. Strangely burnt to black. Who even wants that? The wheat that Paul chose is lightly roasted with a faint flavor of honey, so it's named "Honey Wheat." The bin is marked with a Canadian flag. Others named "Chocolate wheat" are toasted so long that the color changes to chocolate-y brown. It has nothing to do with the flavor of chocolate, just the color. So if you see a beer marked "Chocolate wheat" then that means the wheat is nearly burnt, somewhat acrid. As if salvaged from a fire. It tastes horrible as wheat grains. I can't imagine what that would do steeped.
So I'll make Paul taste these two beers, pineapple and raspberry, to show him the adulteration doesn't improve what would be his lovely light beer.
(I would have made my ale like Newcastle)
Thursday, June 21, 2018
Migration
Apple Migration Assistant from Macbook Air to Macbook Air.
Psych!
Thought this was going to be political.
Here's the thing that made it so otallytay upidstay.
The machines couldn't find each other and they're both right here side-by side. They cannot get any closer. (Man, this keyboard feels freaky new) The little symbols kept spinning around and around. And I tried everything I could think of. I read dozens of pages of suggestions, turning off the firewall, making sure "share" is turned on both, checking the network.
The new computer produced an error message that doesn't make sense. It refers to an unknown machine with an unknown technical name. Finally after starting over six or seven times, I clicked on the unknown machine and another message said of the new computer, "cannot migrate because this one is outdated."
The old machine had been updated to the latest version, High Sierra, while the new one still had the older version, regular Sierra.
Is that weird or what?
That's one of the things they don't mention. They say make sure you have all recent updates, but they don't mention make sure the whole operating system is updated to the latest. It was just such an odd predicament. That took me too long to figure out. Longer than it took for the migration of all other programs and content. Migration over wifi network was impressively fast. Not the five or so hours the videos say.
I had the computer in a box for six months. I have no real use for it. Except the battery wore out of the old one. It still works but it must be plugged in. I ordered a new battery that I'll replace myself. Already watched videos on how to do it. It involves taking out twenty or so tiny screws. The battery is flat, in four cells and it's wide as the whole thing. A flat thin battery. You can buy it at half the price on Alibaba but I don't trust them fer'ners. GET OFF MY LAWN! Their descriptions are too confusing. They load them with conflicting information then in bold letters say "be sure to order the right one." None of the numbers match what my computer says. It's frustrating. None of the model numbers match.
Psych!
Thought this was going to be political.
Here's the thing that made it so otallytay upidstay.
The machines couldn't find each other and they're both right here side-by side. They cannot get any closer. (Man, this keyboard feels freaky new) The little symbols kept spinning around and around. And I tried everything I could think of. I read dozens of pages of suggestions, turning off the firewall, making sure "share" is turned on both, checking the network.
The new computer produced an error message that doesn't make sense. It refers to an unknown machine with an unknown technical name. Finally after starting over six or seven times, I clicked on the unknown machine and another message said of the new computer, "cannot migrate because this one is outdated."
The old machine had been updated to the latest version, High Sierra, while the new one still had the older version, regular Sierra.
Is that weird or what?
That's one of the things they don't mention. They say make sure you have all recent updates, but they don't mention make sure the whole operating system is updated to the latest. It was just such an odd predicament. That took me too long to figure out. Longer than it took for the migration of all other programs and content. Migration over wifi network was impressively fast. Not the five or so hours the videos say.
I had the computer in a box for six months. I have no real use for it. Except the battery wore out of the old one. It still works but it must be plugged in. I ordered a new battery that I'll replace myself. Already watched videos on how to do it. It involves taking out twenty or so tiny screws. The battery is flat, in four cells and it's wide as the whole thing. A flat thin battery. You can buy it at half the price on Alibaba but I don't trust them fer'ners. GET OFF MY LAWN! Their descriptions are too confusing. They load them with conflicting information then in bold letters say "be sure to order the right one." None of the numbers match what my computer says. It's frustrating. None of the model numbers match.
Charles Krauthammer passes
To that great conservative commentariat panel in the sky. Details at Fox News, including video and a tweet by David Nakamura noting a moment of silence for Krauthammer during a baseball game at the Nationals Park.
Trump intends to reorganize government.
Stop crying! Or I'll give you something to cry about.
But I already have something to cry about.
Whap! Don't talk back to me.
Cries harder.
That's how Trump operates. He's mean.
But I already have something to cry about.
Whap! Don't talk back to me.
Cries harder.
That's how Trump operates. He's mean.
Canada can do better than this
In times of tariffs, it helps to have friends in high places. Canadian Minister of Foreign Affairs Chrystia Freeland talks about the value of her close relationship with the EU trade commissioner, calling themselves "sisters in trade." #cndpoli pic.twitter.com/PTCgvMSok8— CBC News: The National (@CBCTheNational) June 8, 2018
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)