Sunday, May 28, 2017

RIP Gregg Allman

A few weeks back there was an unfounded rumor that Gregg Allman had died. He, or a surrogate, surfaced to let everyone know that rumors of his death were premature.

And today Gregg died for sure. He was 69. No cause of death was mentioned but he had a long list of ailments.

It would be wonderful for him to surface again but it's not going to happen this time, at least according to his own website.

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Somewhere in this fine place that I call a house is an 8track tape of the Allmans.  It could be said that I'm a lifelong fan.

I haven't seen them a lot, but after one performance I turned to my friend and asked how anybody could listen to Madonna when what we heard was Pure Music. 

This is a group that has suffered great tragedy and gone on triumphantly. Duane Allman's death, followed by Berry Oakley's the next year, put a strain on the band in the early years. Dickey Betts stepped up and took over the lead spot. Recently Butch Trucks took his own life, and now Gregg. 

The Allman Brothers called it quits recently and Gregg was touring solo. In its final incarnation were Derek Trucks and Warren Haynes on guitar. As it should be, they weren't Duane and Dickey - they made history as their own chapter of the band. Remaining were Butch Trucks (drums), Jaimo (drums), Otiel (bass), and Marc Quinones (percussion).

You can hear Warren Haynes in Gov't Mule and solo. Derek Trucks leads the Tedeschi Trucks Band, with his wife, Susan Tedeschi. I highly recommend catching both. Dickie Betts is still recording and touring-also recommended.

A chapter of rock and roll history has ended, people.

------------------------------------------------

For a musically talented group, they had a lot of hits. We don't see this often. Think of the memories evoked by Blue Sky. Where did you first hear Melissa? Whipping Post? Ramblin Man. Jessica. In Memory of Elizabeth Reed. One Way Out. 

Gregg's greatest quote: I did a lot of drugs and married a broad named Cher. I wouldn't recommend either one of them.


Guys - we will miss you. But you have left behind a legacy, for which we are forever grateful. It will outlive all of us.

Wednesday, May 24, 2017

Aaaaaaaaand it's Muslims

Our hearts go out to the people of Manchester after the latest cowardly terrorist act.

Some would describe any Ariana Grande concert as a terrorist act but I'll wait a few days.

It's getting to the point that the moment there's word of any disruption, you start the countdown clock, waiting for the announcement that ISIS is at it again. I'm sure the other terrorist groups are feeling left out.

It would appear that the people who want to 'extreme vet' immigrants have a bit of a point. Unfettered immigration overseas hasn't gone well.

*Speaking of Ms. Grande, she has been quoted as saying she hates Americans and then there's the video of her in a bakery, licking donuts and putting them back. She also dresses like a fetish model then complains she feels 'objectified.'

In further Manchester news, England will actually prosecute for you saying ISIS is bad. At least we have freedom of speech here.

In still further news from somewhere left of Bernie, noted game developer and part-time hat stand Brianna Wu let this loose on Twitter: When a man straps on a bomb of nails, goes to a woman's concert to kill an audience of women and girls, IT'S A SAFE BET SEXISM IS INVOLVED. To say this woman is unstable is to do an injustice to the people who are legitimately unstable.

As if there couldn't possibly be more, there is. Katy Perry has commented on the Manchester bombing: 'No barriers, no borders, we all just need to co-exist.' The wit. The intellect. It hurts.


  • Some random dude from Alabama is going to jail for online harassment of fifty women (that they know about). There was little rhyme or reason as to how they were selected, but he researched them online enough to guess their passwords and hacked away, getting into their phones and CLOUD accounts and stealing their pictures.  Again, this is some random dude from Alabama. If he caused this much damage to this large number of women, it's kinda frightening, no? It's not like he's a hacker. Hmm... oh, I see.. their passwords were so crappy he was able to guess them from online research. Read and weep. It's a good article, with practical examples of how to avoid this.

Sir Roger Moore (89) has shuffled off his mortal coil, after a short battle with cancer.  RIP, Mr. Bond.

  • Marshall the cocker had his one month post-surgical visit the other day. The surgeon was shocked - she did not expect to see him in the wonderful shape he's in. We're all happy and thankful. Marshall was so enthused, he shit in the exam room. Marshall is a very complex dog.
  • Speaking of complex, we can now brag that our little monster can remove the white plastic top from a Dunkin Donuts styrofoam cup AND the clear plastic top from the clear plastic cup. After either, he goes face-down into the coffee, hot or cold, and sees no ill effects from it. It's a shame I didn't have him when I needed to write papers and book reports.



Data theft allegations against four former House IT workers have gone nowhere and people are baffled. The suspicion is that these workers have data on House members, in a blackmailing kinda way. If your outlook on government is not completely sour at this moment, read this article and see how you feel. My favorite line is that there are rules stating that staffers cannot make more than House members. These are the people who are legally immune to their own laws and don't have to use the piddling Obamacare insurance - they have their own.

  • A cyber-attack in Florida resulted in hackers getting hold of names of 16,000 people who hold concealed-weapon licenses.  Imagine.. that much information in one place. Poorly secured. Is there too much data stored? Do we need concealed weapon licenses? Do you trust the keepers of this data? Go ahead - guess what the ThermionicEmissions answer is.


UK Secret Classifications (applies everywhere):
Top Secret: Stuff that gets left on the train
Secret: Stuff the press has
Official: Safe to give to politicians



  • Got one of those dandy new Samsung Galaxy S8 phones? They have the dandy new iris scanner. As expected, the scanner can be bypassed with a photo of your iris. The only thing missing here is the Internet of Things connection so if your signal is bad, you can't unlock the phone. Or use your iris.
  • Speaking of iris. Irii? Irises? Iras? Samsung should abandon iris unlocking anyway and go for something more adventurous: breast unlocking. After all, no two breasts are alike... plus it would make morning commutes much more interesting - especially on the train.



Our local 'news' morning show has revealed that there's a 'feud' between Katy Perry and Taylor Swift. Putting aside my prior theory that Taylor is a fembot, and would therefore win any contest, I think this is getting out of hand. Feuds became very popular during the East Coast-West Coast rapper days. In a bid to pump up a career or get some 'cred,' these lilly white, alleged Songstresses to the Tweens are out there generating press.

No, seriously.

On 'news' programs, to my absolute horror, some have added a 'social media desk,' where a 'reporter' will weigh in on Faceyspaces and Twitter matters of great import. We will now need to contact the business on-air furniture department because we need another space: news will need to hire a Feud Reporter, with in-depth, up to the moment news of who's feuding with whom, who stole a boyfriend/girlfriend (or both), and some background on the feud and who it affects.

As if that weren't enough, we'll need one more seat. We can call this person the Sociology Reporter. He or she will report on what the feud means in terms of sociology and why we're all going to hell because of it. When news is completely devoid of content and owned by six mega-corporations, we deserve at least one person on staff to tell us the truth while the ninnies do their dance.


Wait, I hear someone fiddling....


Monday, May 22, 2017

You Picked a Bad Morning to Run Windows

If you haven't patched every version of Windows you use DO IT NOW, per earlier blog post, lest you lose all your files to ransomware. BACK UP YOUR FILES OFFLINE.

In case you're curious, everybody's best friend, the NSA, hoards vulnerabilities as weapons, not reporting them to (in this case) Microsoft. Unfortunately, these vulnerabilities got leaked and the Bad People are now using them. The letter agencies are completely out of control.

A very side effect of this is that medical equipment is getting infected. Do you want those machines that go PING next to your hospital bed to be infected? Why does this happen?  Since many medical devices run on Windows and they are connected to the local network, they can easily get infected with WannaCry."

Odds are my readers are not employed as security professionals. That said, reading the above sentence, what would you recommend? Yes, this is your future... your fridge will eventually hold your food hostage.


  • United Airlines has taught themselves (hopefully) and us important lessons. One of their attendants leaked the cockpit door combination online. The lessons are to not drag people off planes when there's video and no matter how secure you are from the outside, there's always idiots on the inside who will screw things up. We have seen the enemy and it is us.

In the latest installment of Hackers Have Your Movie, Disney's new Pirates of the Caribbean is being held hostage and Disney isn't paying up. CEO Bob Iger has the Feds involved, but I wonder how long it will take until Bob's private files, featuring the donkeys, become public... or the Mouse House comes down on the private parts of the hackers.

In other, deeply personal hacking news, Brooks Brothers has been hacked; the hackers made off with payment card details.  When I think of all the money I paid for a closet full of high quality suits, I realize I can't even tell you where a Brooks Brothers store is. They want you to know they're right on top of the matter, though, as it has only been going on for about a year.


  • I bought a laptop stand. It's pretty much a tray table but looked like it would do the job. I enjoy the thing, but not near as much as Marshall, who has taken to camping out underneath it, like an awning, or right next to it, so I can't get around him. It's almost like he's part cat. Currently he's in doggie dreamland, farting up a storm and choking off my oxygen. If anybody strikes a match, the whole place is going up.


CBS has been slammed for new fall shows, all starring men. 
Whine whine... 
Let's get together and collaborate on some possible starring replacements for men:
  • talking breasts
  • fish
  • dust from vertical blinds
  • carburetors
  • elephants
please chime in.


  • James Patrick Page, guitar player of some note, in a band called Led something or other, is dating a 26 year old woman. Fame and talent hath its privileges, as she's one-third his age. Are you getting the idea about why I want to be a Big Rock Star<tm>?


A woman stabs her boyfriend. This is generally acknowledged as a Pretty Bad Thing. Well, she may be getting off because it will hurt her career prospects. Is this what they refer to as Male Privilege? 

  • Cardiff, Wales, home of the fictional Torchwood, is gearing up for its Naked Bike Ride protest.  It is not immediately apparent whether the protest is against naked bike riding or something else, but I dare not click the link, as it goes to Faceyspaces.  This event could go spectacularly wrong, so I advise caution if there's a live feed.
  • As if anyone could get enough of Wales, people are OUTRAGED at the ASDA retail chain is selling a jumper that says "Boys will be boys." The lead malcontent claims this maintains damaging stereotypes. Not mentioned was the other boys jumper that says "I have a penis," which also maintains the damaging stereotype that boys have penises (and can't identify as girls, presumably).


RIP Chris Cornell, former frontman for Soundgarden. He died suddenly and unexpectedly (of suicide). Another of rock's great lead voices gone. He was an original.

Please talk to someone. Seek help. Tell a friend. There is assistance. You don't have to feel this way. And there will be a lot of people left in your wake after you go. Condolences to Chris' wife and two children.

Lastly, this means people will pay more attention to Eddie Vedder. Nothing good can come from this.

  • Qualcomm has a patent on for internet-connected shoes. What could possibly go wrong?


Twitter has updated its privacy policy. Remembering that everything is opposite from the way it sounds, this means that Twitter has updated the way it ruins your privacy. The results are fairly astounding. Check it out.


  • Tired of the ridiculousness coming out of the college professors, a Portland State University professor and mathematician collaborated to write a hoax paper called "The Conceptual Penis as a Social Construct." Reviewers loved it, even though the authors tried to make is as incoherent as possible.  Nice to see a little humor in the process.

Thursday, May 18, 2017

God's Country

We don't get out much, not that I have to say that. Again.
Now that the weather has gone from cold, gray, and humid to warm, gray, and humid, it's time to leave the homestead now and then, for stuff not involving picking up dog food.

Much to the grief of the wife, it was a guitar and musician flea market. It was on the grounds of a large flea market, so everyone was covered.  There was a fifty percent chance of rain, which was a bit of a joke, but it seriously couldn't decide which way it wanted to go. This is why it's called Mother Nature, because only a woman would spend the entire day going from cloudy to sunny to cloudy, over and over again. The sun and clouds were fighting like Hillary and Trump supporters, with neither getting an edge.

The place was a bit far out, so we had to get some online directions; never a good idea. For instance, the directions said to make a left to Route 134 West, while the sign said Route 134 West was right. You know where this is headed, right? We sure as hell didn't.

We knew we were in for an adventure when 134 West crossed Forty Mile Road. Being from the city, we don't have Forty Mile Road. We have Market St. The Boulevard. I-95. Just down from Forty Mile Road was Granite Road.  Forty Mile probably indicated that in 1900, it was forty miles to civilization, not that much had changed, except some nice houses and grass. Granite Road was the entrance to the quarry, where Fred Flintstone worked.

It was ten miles to the next road, so being the Excellent Navigator I am, I mentioned we were to continue for ten miles.  A ways down the road (because you say 'ways' past the city line) I asked how close were we. The answer, Excellent Driver she is, was "I don't know - I got distracted." And so it began.

When we first met, we were unusually perfect for each other. We didn't fight and managed to do everything together and in rhythm.  As we got older, we started to notice stuff.... stuff like all of the sudden, it wasn't too good an idea to have both of us in the kitchen at the same time. It was like putting Gordon Ramsay in the kitchen with coked up Billy Mays, a few sharp knives, and maybe some grenades. I'm extra careful around knives because I almost amputated a digit when I was little. This is not helped by my wife's tendency to reach past me every time I slice something. Similarly, water acts as a trigger for her... whenever I run the water to do dishes, she automatically needs water for something else.  I don't pretend to understand, but let this be our biggest problem, right?

But no. Another large problem involves Going Places, specifically places we've never been, that rely on directions. She becomes very nervous and extremely short-tempered and communicates by yelling.  Since yelling is usually my territory, it gets hot and loud in the vehicle. Hot and loud is good during sex, for waking the neighbors, but it does absolutely nothing to help get somewhere.

'About' ten miles down the road, the yelling continued. We had no choice but to pull over and fire up my eternal nemesis... no, not the mower... the Garmin.  Technology certainly has come a long way from having to get directions over the wired phone, write them down, then remember to take them with you. Now you just have to know the address and put it into your GPS. Most people have stopped using Garmins and simply use their phone's system. Since I'm tin foil hat, I have the GPS in my phone locked down so far it would take longer to activate it than to walk ten miles. If we fire up the wife's phone, it will give us directions completely different from the Garmin.

I decided to make peace with the Garmin, in spite of my one hundred percent negative experience with the infernal device. This was going to be different, I told myself.  And of course I was mistaken. Putting the address into the device, it immediately told me there was no such address. This is absolutely typical of my Garmin experience. It always requires screaming. And the moment the first error comes up, I go from quiet and positive to wishing universal death and destruction on the device, its headquarters, and everyone involved in its production, down to the clerk that rang it up for me at the electronics store. There is no other device or circumstance in life that gets to me like this, except possibly the mower.  Once I established that the little $@&*er didn't understand 'Rt' and required me to type 'Route', it asked me if I wanted the exact address I typed.  Smart little box, isn't it?

Back on the road, it told us to go another few miles in the direction we were headed, causing a temporary thaw in international relations. The moment it told us to make a left from Green Road to Green Valley Road, one of us completely failed to make the turn, causing a recalculation. Fortunately it did not recommend driving into the water, as two of them did last time we used it.

Eventually we made it to the market. There is all sorts of folksy lore on the website about how the market came to be, with Old Papa Jed selling stuff on the roadside back in the 1800s (or 1900s or something) and the stand becoming so popular, it's now a large flea market.  And when I say large, I mean an awful lot of rock-filled drives and stalls, similar to a dilapidated drive-in of yore. The wife immediately started asking where it was. Well, it was the only indoor area and the rest of the place was stalls and parking lots. This was insufficient, for some reason, so yelling was indicated. Impossible physical acts were suggested. And cigarettes were involved.

Cigarettes are always involved. It's the most bizarre legal drug addiction I have ever beheld. While Mrs lefty is gracious enough never to smoke in the house or car (even she can't stand smelling it), it's worse than crack. The moment she leaves a building or exits the car, the cigarette is At The Ready, before she has actually left the building or opened the car door.  We call this PTSD - as if she's never going to get another one so this one is Very Important.

This was God's Country. We kept checking the GPS and our phones, shocked that there was signal at all. The big hangout was probably the Walmart, no doubt a very recent addition. There were feed stores, as well as actual hardware stores, which have all but disappeared in the city. The was an actual dairy with an attached ice cream shop. Horses, chickens, cows, and very few people were seen on the way.

After locating the sole indoor space, I sallied forth and intruded. After over an hour's drive, I had no idea what to expect, but at least there weren't two toothless family members selling used guitar strings and a whole lotta space. There were about twenty tables... I hesitate to call them vendors because this was an indoor flea market. Gone are the days of finding an ancient gem under someone's bed - things were market priced or higher.

One table featured violins in different colors. They even had ukeleles in different colors. Not sure if the color indicated the value or tone, or whether it was just best to breeze by quickly. There were definitely a lot of guitars there, mostly of the very cheap off-brand variety. Someone even had a few off-brand lefties, bless them. There was also a metalflake pink, star-shaped guitar, hopefully for young girls, although I wouldn't hesitate to play it if I were wearing a pink tutu, a set of Disney ears, singing Earache My Eye, as Cheech Marin. But I'm just different that way.

I saw a few Marshall amplifiers, which was exciting, right up til I got close and realized they were the kind that didn't have tubes in them, which sold about four units when they were new. There were also a few very old mixing boards, one described as vintage, priced astronomically. The board used to record Abbey Road sold for millions and was worth it. These relics of the Eighties were approaching $1,000, for which you could triple the performance by purchasing a new one.

There was one item I didn't want to leave without, but alas, the vendor was nowhere to be seen.  The Rules would tell you that since it was not marked, it was free and since there was no vendor around, I could just wheel it out myself, but I wasn't sure if these people read The Rules, so I decided to leave it there. It was a huge console tube tester. You know, old folks, when you had tubes for your tv or radio and you needed to see if they were good or you had to buy new ones. I use tubes in most of my guitar amps, so this would make a great piece of 'furniture' for the house. I even had Wifely Approval, but the bastard was nowhere to be found. Ok, I do have a portable one anyway, but this was in its own console and looked all retail-like.

I suspect because it was God's country, the people were largely locals and they were nice, amiable folks... the kind you like to do business with. I manged to escape with a few baubles. My wife, who can find treasure anywhere things are for sale, managed to locate some bizarre sort of pick holder that involved velcro. I already have quite an efficient pick holder made from denim. It's called pants and it has four or sometimes five pockets which can be filled with picks. Come to think of it, there was not a single pick for sale in the entire structure. In any case, she saw gold in these devices, purchasing a bunch of them for relatives who do not play guitar, but would find them invaluable for something entirely different. I gave up asking a long time ago.

Musician Crap: I got a Boss DS-1 so I could do some modifications on it and check out the differences. Also a Tascam USB audio interface that I took for granted will work with linux. This is an adorable little box that will take a mic or guitar signal and send it out to your computer via USB.

And that was that for the guitar show. If we were so excited we couldn't contain ourselves, it was also open the next day. You know... if we didn't get to all twenty tables in one morning.

Poof - out of the music gate we went, walking in minor, freshly-installed lakes, to the rest of the flea market, conveniently located out of doors. Flea markets are different than I remember, not that I am a frequent visitor. The first few stalls seemed to consist of merchandise from QVC, which was a selling point, for reasons I am not privy to as a man. Guys, or other genders with external plumbing, would think that one doesn't need to drive over an hour to purchase merchandise that can be ordered via the phone or QVC's convenient website. Women, on the other hand, don't let logic interfere with a good shopping opportunity.

Some of the other vendors had tables plus what can best be described as a small shed that you could walk into and see more merchandise, some actually not from QVC, but in an atmosphere that could make mice claustrophobic.  The places looked a lot like episodes of Hoarders that haven't aired yet. My job was to Hold Things. It was my job for the day, apparently. Wife would pick something up, say some words, then order me to Hold This. As any husband will tell you, it's better to smile, agree, and Hold This, never asking a single question or uttering any noise that would invite further talking or debate on the item(s).

Because we don't get out a lot and because I'm probably past the mean age of crime, I'm not used to seeing an employee appearing wherever I am, 'tidying up' an area. And reappearing at a different area at which I've just arrived. Usually the more observant of the two of us, my wife did not notice. I did, and desperately wanted to find a different vendor to give my money. That was to be a losing proposition, so I just continued to Hold This.

There were a few places to get breakfast, like eggs, sausage, and bbq. Apparently bbq is what's for breakfast in God's Country. I do not have a single issue with this, so bbq it was, with some loaded fries, outside a railcar-turned food truck, in the recently started monsoon-ish wind and the clouds which had temporarily won the argument with the sun. It was romantic. We decided it was as romantic as we needed, whereas if it rained, we couldn't stand that much more romance.

I saw a drill press, next to some strange scented lotions, probably from QVC. I was compelled to look upon it's pressiness with manly appreciation, exclaiming that I wanted it.  What would I do with it, Dear? I have no idea... I could put it in the basement and tell people I had a 'shop' down there. Then show them the various holes I had drilled into my hands since I got it.

You know the stuff at flea markets, as do I. This flea market was no different, so naturally we had to look at everything. We are now the proud owners of a bunch of bizarre, loud, owl necklaces. Fortunately they're for a family member, as were the Daffy Duck glasses.

On the way home, we stopped at the dairy to get some ice cream for breakfast. We did well.

And nobody had any marks on them by the time we arrived home. Except for where the ice cream dripped.

Monday, May 15, 2017

HIGH PRIORITY - not kidding

If you're a Windows user, PATCH YOUR COMPUTER.

The NSA hoarded some Windows malware and it got leaked. Hundreds of thousands of PCs have been infected with ransomware. If you get infected, you will lose your files and see a demand for money.  Paying it may or may not get your files back.

PATCH YOUR COMPUTER!

Fred Astaire Reads This Blog

Actually there's no way to tell whether he does or does not. I'm going to err on the side of caution and let you know I'm making it up, lest I hear from his estate. Again.


  • ThermionicEmissions is researching this: there is a report that Uber has a $63 helicopter option. Of course we don't use Uber due to tracking, location, and other nefarious actions, but isn't this interesting?


No, Dear, I did not sleep with that woman. It was the Russians.

  • So there's the Crazy Lady next door, who has a hotline to the township, for reporting our suspected transgressions of The Rules.  She's having some sort of little rocks put on her property somewhere, and some of them fell onto our drive and walkway. I may need to call the township. This is clearly unreasonable and harassment.


Do you have an HP computer?  Check for this file: C:\Windows\System32\MicTray64.exe or C:\Windows\System32\MicTray.exe. If you have one of these, rename or delete it immediately. When that's done, look for C:\Users\Public\MicTray.log and delete it immediately. No one is taking blame for this yet, but this driver software, direct from HP, is a keylogger; it keeps a record of every key you type in the MicTray.log file. Every key. Passwords, financial, whatever.  It does not appear malicious at the time - more like bad programming on the part of the developer (Conexant). The log is deleted when you reboot, but can be used by many processes while running.

The program is an audio driver. When you rename or delete, it's possible that special keyboard keys will not work, which is the actual function of this driver.

This file will not show up if you're running linux [rim shot], as I do, on your HP computer.


  • The US is about to announce a ban on laptops on carryon baggage on flights from the UK and Europe.  As in all cases of Security Theater<tm>, it appears baseless. Ignoring the people who are pissed off they can't use their own gear on a plane, any alleged explosives would cause just as big a problem in the cargo hold. Plus laptops are 'sniffed' at the checkpoint (mine was wiped with a swab and the TSA fellow told me they were looking for traces of explosives. I told him he'd get dog hair and that was it). Is this ok with you?
  • Speaking of airports, Trump sped up the Facial Recognition program, where you will be scanned at all airports in the US eventually. This man is starting to become a hazard. Some would say he already was.


College costs getting you down? The University of Arizona is hiring "social justice activists" to "report any bias incidents or claims to appropriate Residence Life staff." Yes, the microaggression micromanagers can now get paid in something more than smug self-satisfaction. I predict an increase in the number of heads in toilets (swirlies) as this program gets underway. The sickening details are here.


Tuesday, May 9, 2017

Taylor Swift News

My relationship with Taylor Swift has been complex. No, not complex enough to wind up in one of her songs, nor to have John Mayer hanging out and commiserating (although if he wants to hang out, we can talk guitar).

Aside from her music, there seems to be no reason not to like her. She's attractive, tall and leggy, smiles a lot, seems to be a really nice person, and occasionally has nice hair.

Her music.. well... I'm not a teen/tween, so I'm waaay out of her target market. I've heard a tiny sampling of her songs and immediately requested their termination, as they screamed "You're Too Old" at anyone over sixteen.

But there's something... an unidentified something, lurking in the background. Something I cannot describe or put my finger on. Something odd. And when I have these intuitions, they're usually correct... sometimes it just takes a while to make it to the conscious level.

After much time, I think I've figured it out: she's a fembot.
Stay with me a moment.... there is a rush to design and market the first lifelike sex doll (which will cause a huge corresponding drop in internet traffic, as geeks and nerds swear off being teased by online women who do not exist). On the way to a final product, proof of concept and demo versions must be put together. I think Taylor is a prototype sex doll, only without the working parts for sex. They wanted to experiment and achieve a working human likeness first, before attaching Lifelike Female Plumbing.

I am not sure if her boobies contain machine guns, like the fembots in the Austin Powers movies, but eventually we'll see. Or we can check John Mayer for healed bullet holes.

Her fans aren't right either.

I bring you this information because I care.


  • If you downloaded HandBrake for Mac over the weekend, there's a 50/50 chance you have a remote access trojan. Since we don't use Macs, this isn't an issue, fortunately.


I think this might be the ultimate bath accessory...

  • A Wellsley college student has created a public database of professors who commit "ableist microaggressions" or fail to "respect" students' pronoun preferences.  It started out well and immediately degerated. These snowflakes are gonna be in for a rude awakening when they discover McDonalds will not allow a public database of managers who don't respect their pronoun preferences.


An Indian state has launched a cow ambulance service.  Because they're tired of the Muslims getting all the headlines.

  • Faceyspaces is doing the lord's work: if you're in Thailand, FB will block your ability to see a picture of the king, in a crop top, with his tattoos visible.  I may sign up because of this.


North Carolina has passed a bill protecting drivers who hit protesters on the road.  It's open season, folks- mow em down!

  • BULLETIN: WINDOWS - There's a pretty nasty bug, which was discovered, sent to Microsoft, and fixed within 3 days. Details at the link. A patch will be sent to your PC ahead of schedule.