They Wax Their Underarms?

According to my trusty indoor thermometer, it's sixty three outside. That's 6.547 British degrees, and in Canada, that's Bikini Weather.

Since my house lags the weather by at least twelve hours, it's pretty cold inside. It's so cold....
HOW COLD IS IT?
It's so cold, the neighbors told me to shut my windows: I'm letting all the cold air outside.

• Hi, my name is Stan. I quit smoking with Chantix. Yes, I killed my wife and children, but I quit smoking!

My toilet's dirty.
Not like that.
It's got dirt on it.
Yes it's cleaned often, thank you.
It's got real dirt on it.
It's not like I went out and rolled in the dirt then came in and drank from the...
Oh.

• There are two kinds of people: a hole has appeared in your plane...

1. you try to figure out how to remain alive
2. you pull out your phone and start taking video

Beyond Death Tip: if your plane is failing to fly, in terms of it rushing at the ground, write out whatever you have to say to whomever and swallow it. It is likely the note will survive and the autopsy will reveal it. You know... if there's enough of you found to autopsy.

• ok, try this one: a fight breaks out in a tiny fast food joint...

1. you duck the punches and flee
2. you pull out your phone and start taking video

• a man is on the bridge you're crossing, looking like he's going to jump...

1. you call the police
2. you pull out your phone and start taking video
3. you drive by and helpfully yell, "JUMP!"

Penn State University has banned its near-century-old outdoor recreation club from going outside because it is too dangerous out in the wilderness. I have a theory (don't I always?): when Stupid gathers, it eventually hits critical mass and explodes spectacularly. So stay away from colleges and universities.

• There is something going on with Ed Begley, Jr. We all know him as an actor and environmental champion. As one watches Really Bad TV, going back farther and farther, into black and white, one sees Ed Begley, Jr. a lot. Ed doesn't seem to age much. He's got that speech thing going. How can a 'young' Ed Begley, Jr., appear in Dragnet, then on a documentary about solar powering his house, looking just slightly older.
• Is Ed Begley, Jr. Satan? 
• Don't tell me I'm the only one who noticed this...

I think it's time we put aside this opioid nonsense and do something useful: cure my wife, who is buy-polar.

• I discovered yesterday, to my shock, that women's pants pockets are largely ornamental. If I didn't know this, what else don't I know?

I'm usually the last one to post this crap. Please don't think less of me.

• The other day, the man for whom the sun shines, Bono Kanye West, said he loves Donald Trump. The 'music' industry went into Immediate Meltdown Mode<tm>, proclaiming #KanyeIsDone.  Here's the report from Hollywood Hospital:
• JayZ and Beyonce have their own rooms while their wings are being built, pictures of the Obamas decorating their walls
• Rob Reiner never moved out of his suites
• Barbara Streisand broke a leg in the mad rush to move to Canada
• the Hollywood Hazmat Team was called out to an awards show, when 90% of attendees simply got a (different) blank look and fell over. As a precaution, all awards shows have been put on indefinite hold
• you could see Whoopee Goldberg momentarily turn into a reptilian
• Meryl Streep and Jennifer Lawrence held hands and fainted, blaming the NRA
• 50 cent devalued to 25 cent
• President Trump hailed the statement, referring to Kanye as 'my very good rap friend'.
• Kim Kardashian asked, "Who's Trump?"
• Sometimes it's fun to sit back and watch the world burn.

It's not a particularly good time to be funny and living in Britain.

A fella by the handle of Count Dankula received an 800lb fine for posting video of his pug making a nazi salute.

A teen from Liverpool was was found guilty of "sending an offensive message" after she posted rap lyrics by Snap Dogg on her Instagram page, as a tribute to a 13 year old boy who died in a traffic accident. BOOM: eight weeks community service and a 500lb fine. Never mind that the lyrics were incomprehensible, it's the principle. I would reproduce them here if there were any chance that this blog is read in England.

Any claim to freedom of speech in England is dead. Now would be a pretty good time to nip this issue before it gets worse. And it will get worse.

In the US, we're free to have our pugs perform nazi salutes while rapping about the best way to offend minorities. People would laugh at us, for other reasons, but we could do it.  I'm kidding: the SJWs would have a fit until we changed the lyrics to 'offending crackers'. We don't have censorship by law - we have censorship by SJW.  We have met the enemy and it is US.

• Work just sent me a voluntary survey to fill out. Now.

There is a Pupperoni on my bed.
The dog is sleeping late today, after keeping the wife up all night, teaching her new tricks.
I hope these two things are related.

• While out, I heard a remake of The Bay City Rollers' "Saturday Night." It was every bit as stupid as the original, but lacking in originality. I haven't been so thrilled about a remake since "Endless Love."

I mentioned that I'm a voluntary agoraphobe: I don't leave my house, not because I can't, but because Stupid People and Stupid Stuff happens when I do. There were errands to be run. I was elected to run them. When I say elected, I mean the wife told me to pick up some things. This is a mixed blessing, as when I do this, it costs considerably less than when she does this. Unfortunately, she's the expert.

Being an occasionally nice guy, I picked her up something for lunch. No, not some sushi from the convenience store... a sandwich from the convenience store.  Yes, I've run million dollar networks, but I hate those automated ordering screens. They're evil and you have to guess which category your food is hidden behind. Well, let's see... paninis are definitely not behind frozen drinks. Or are they? Since the wife is the expert, it didn't seem strange that I couldn't find my choice. This caused me to do what everybody hates most: ask a question of the friendly staff.  I've seen people pull their own hair out and leave the store, rather than ask an employee. The employee helpfully let me know what I wanted just went off the menu and won't be carried anymore.

I snickered an evil snicker. The poor fellow had no idea what was going on and openly wished he were somewhere else. Anywhere but near me. I get that a lot.

You're not paranoid if they really are out to get you.
And they are. Or he is. You can't see him and neither can I. Or at least I don't recognize him. He's the guy who follows us around, noting what we buy. When we leave the store, he gives the list to the manager, who immediately stops carrying whatever we bought. The thing that sounds crazy (really? only one thing?) is that it's not just one store... it's all of them.

Having located the substitution for the item they stopped carrying just for me, I noticed it had several items I did not want, to the extent that I sometimes launch them when at pricey restaurants. The evil display will allow me to customize the sandwich, but we have a fundamental difference in the definition of customize. To most of civilized society (and my neighborhood), customize means add or subtract things. To this store, customize means change the kind of cheese on the sandwich. I don't like cheese. But there's no way to remove it. I really don't like tomatoes. Not an option to remove it. Perhaps I'd be better off with a frozen drink.

I stood in line to pay, right in back of the lady who has a card with a chip in it. She pulled out prematurely, voiding the transaction. Then she hit CREDIT instead of DEBIT.  If this lady has a driver's license, she's about the make the convenience store a drive-thru.

Manning the register is a very cheerful lady. Very cheerful. The kind of cheerful that makes you want to harpoon her. The problem here is that I live in a No Harpoon State, which kinda torpedoes that. Hey.. torpedoes!  The cashier is singing, chatting, and jumping up and down, like some sort of crack addict with an actual job. Or a meth head... I always get those two mixed up. To make things more entertaining, she's blessing people, like Pope Crack. She told one lady to enjoy the beautiful weather God has provided for us. I have no problem with any of this, with the exception of the VOLUME. I just want to know, when the storm starts later today, if she's still going to be thanking God for the beautiful weather. Or blaming him, perhaps.

Have a blessed day, readers.

• Ren was Marshall's cat. He was incredibly long and lean, weighing 19lbs. He drove us up a tree, almost blowing up the house by jumping on the stove and turning the gas on. Eventually he stopped trying to kill us. His heart gave out one day, about two years ago. Every now and then I think about him. I miss the little bastard.

It turns out Elvis was a huge fan of Monty Python's Holy Grail. He would sit there and watch it with his posse, constantly quoting the movie outside. While playing ball, he broke a finger. He said it was just a flesh wound.  I'd pay for footage of this.

• I feel bad that I haven't brought you any good news in IT (no I don't), so here you are: hackers need just about a minute to turn your hotel room key card into a master key for common hotel door locks. So before you go to your room, check your laptop and sex doll at the counter.

Google did a redesign on Gmail that will enhance privacy (from everyone but Google). Here are details. There are some decent improvements, but not all are available right now.






Depression has been described in any number of ways. One particularly good one is an elephant sitting on your chest. Walking though molasses.

The slightest movement is very difficult. It can physically hurt. You burst out crying for little or no apparent reason. There is no joy in anything, including the things you love most. You might sit there at work, staring, unable to work. Or doing your work is too much. You sigh because there's nothing on tv and you had to wade through mud to change the channel. Getting out of bed becomes insurmountable. When you do get out, you desperately want to go back. You don't feel like eating.

Does any of this sound familiar?
Ask your doctor about it.
See someone.*
Talk to someone you know with depression.
Maybe you're more comfortable with a priest or minister or pastor.
You don't HAVE TO feel like this. It's not normal. It's validating and liberating to hear it. You can be helped. Wouldn't it be nice to get to just miserable?

And if you want to hurt yourself or others (more than normal), get to the hospital now. They will keep you safe.



* often the first visit is free. Your insurance should cover it. Cash fees can be negotiated. There may be city or county resources, plus crisis phone lines.

Passed Over

I'd like to wish my Jewish friends a Happy Passover.
But I can't, because it was a little while ago.
So I'll wish them a happy end of Passover.
The end of Passover, as I understand it, is the happiest part of Passover.

What is Passover?
Way back in the times when Charlton Heston parted Bea Arthur's hair and men rode on armed Chevrolet platforms pulled by octopi; Jesus had, through no fault of his own, become dead. This was later featured in Monty Python's Life of Brian. The Romans, a cheerful group that occasionally nailed people to wood, nailed Jesus to wood. Then they did what every forward-thinking civilization does - they put him in a cave with a huge rock in front of it, so his dead body couldn't escape. Well, Jesus showed them.... he came out of his cave in February and saw his shadow, indicating that everyone was in for four more weeks of pretending a rabbit is going to bring you candy.

Jesus was in no mood for this sort of thing and passed over everyone's houses, guaranteeing that Air Traffic Control would have to lie again and tell everyone there was no unidentified flying lord on their radar that day. And to this day, the holiday is celebrated by the Jews with matzoh, because they couldn't eat bread during the time Jesus passed over their house, because the village baker was on vacation that week. The baker's apprentice was on a bender, having been to see the Dead the night before. This was before Jerry grew a beard.

Now, allow me to share another tradition that is not taught in your comparative religion class...  For reasons unknown, Jews tend to buy too much matzoh and 'kosher for Passover' food for Passover. Considering that matzoh tastes worse than the cardboard box it comes in, overestimating the quantity borders on the insane. So at the end of Passover, there's all sorts of kosher food left. What is kosher food? In high school, my Jewish girlfriend said it was food that a rabbi spit on. That was good enough for me. If I didn't agree, I was going home by myself, so she was always right.

There is also something called guh-fil-ta fish. Don't bother asking me how it's spelled - it's spelled the way I spell it. The girlfriend showed it to me once. Your traditional fish, they come from water. You fish for them, they bite the hook, then you take them home to a woman, who guts them, throws them out, and cooks frozen fish she has on hand for just such emergencies. Guh-fil-ta fish does not come from water; it comes from a bottle. No, really. Ok, there is some water in the bottle, but it's mostly this very strange clear jelly, which doesn't show up on the periodic table. The 'fish' doesn't have a tail. Or eyes. Or any other characteristics that would identify it as a fish. Or even something that was alive at one time. It looks like...ummm... a sort of almost colorless almost gray.. ummm.. turd. There's really no way to describe it... run down to your supermarket this minute and look for a jar. It's craggy, like the surface of the moon, from where it's thought to originate. It is virtually flavorless.. more of a texture, like a fast food burger or something you make out of a cat. As if this weren't enough, they dip it in this Purple Stuff. Being the good boyfriend, I did. OHMYFRIGGINGOD WHYDIDN'TTHEYTELLMETHISSHITIS HORSERADISH? It is the most potent form of horseradish known to man, disguised as Purple Stuff. It was my girlfriend's family tradition to burn someone's nasal tract to hell every year on Passover. To this day, I cannot deal with purple food and never grew back my sinuses.

Mrs leftystrat's buddy celebrates Passover, and thus winds up with lots of leftover matzoh. Every year she asks Mrs leftystrat if she'd like some. Every year, Mrs leftystrat gets excited and says she loves matzoh and would be happy to take some. Every year I ask why anyone would voluntarily eat that stuff and besides, she never eats it anyway. Every year she lists the things she can make with it, number one being fried matzoh. I saw fried matzoh once. Only once. I shall attempt to describe it thusly: take a dry, flat, moistureless cracker, and fry it. In essence, you have Deep Fried Cardboard, with extra grease. Each piece weighs ten pounds and everyone claims to love it, although you never see anyone actually eating it.

Within two days, a five pound box of matzoh shows up, unopened. I told you there's overbuying.  Five pounds of matzoh is enough to feed an entire village in the time of Yul Brynner's shiny, bald head. And he died of cancer... draw your own conclusions. The matzoh sits out in a very conspicuous place for a few days, then goes to the pantry. Where it sits until at least the next Passover, by which time it hasn't expired. In fact, matzoh never expires - it's just a conspiracy by the Matzoh Lobby to sell more.

And that, folks, is the Secret Passover Tradition.



Say, it's around the middle of April, isn't it....?
That means it's Tax Time!
Tax Time: when you have to pay more of your money, or you get some of your money back, without interest, because the feds aren't interested in you.

Cheech and Chong, a married couple (their names were changed to protect the IRS) waited til the last minute, as they did every year, to file their taxes. They purchased an expensive tax program because their situation was weird. And who wouldn't have a weird situation if they had names like Cheech and Chong?

They fired up their tax program and for no particular reason, Chong turned ugly because she couldn't find her tax paperwork. She had only made three million dollars last year, which was a significant loss from the previous year's marijuana growing operation profits. Cheech asker her when she would like to start, as they were kinda due on this very day and Chong replied by suggesting something anatomically impossible, followed by telling him if he was so eager to start, perhaps he should start.

In fear for his life, Cheech put in his information and his earnings. Then it was again time for Chong, so he asked her for her paperwork. I CAN'T FIND IT but I can get a copy online. Cheech observed that she couldn't find the floor, then decided to keep that thought to himself; he had grown rather attached to his genitalia.

After establishing that the paperwork had mysteriously been eaten by either the house or the invisible goat, Chong decided to get the information online. And by get the information, I mean have Cheech go online. Whenever Chong tried to go online, she broke out in a cold sweat and the computer always wound up stapled to the front of the house, in a small bag of dark metal shavings, next to what remained of the monitor. Cheech went online, to the federal site, to get her information.

Oh no... you can't get your information on the site unless you set up an account. CHONG - what's your account name?

I don't have an account.

Ok, let me set up one for you.  Hey, it says there's already an account with your name. Did you set one up last year?

No.

Let me do a recovery for people who can't remember their names. Ok, your account is CHONG1234.

NO, MY PASSWORD IS CHONG1234.

You can argue with me if you like, but the site itself said your account is CHONG1234.  What's your password?

GODAMMIT, HOW SHOULD I KNOW?

The cat knew what was coming and retreated to the tornado shelter.

Let me see... ok, there's a password recovery. Ok, I.. oh wait... they are going to send you the password. In the mail. In 5-10 days.

THAT'S NOT GOING TO HELP ME. YOU NEED TO FILE FOR AN EXTENSION.

Oh, look... here are your security questions: what's your mother's middle name?

My mother doesn't have a middle name.

Ok then, just wait for that mail to arrive. Perhaps you should call and ask.

SURE - I'LL SIT THERE FOR HOURS, WAITING FOR THEM TO PICK UP THE PHONE AND TELL ME THEY CAN'T DO IT.

Play stupid - people will help.

WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK I WAS GOING TO DO?

Cheech had a few suggestions as to what she could do, but decided it might not be a good idea to use his outside voice.

An hour later the problem was solved. The customer service person was unfailingly polite. She could not provide the password, but freely gave out the info Chong needed. Don't bother thinking about this - it will only cause serious headaches, resulting in your inability to understand Survivor.


Meanwhile in PA:

After, through some sort of miracle, we managed to file our tax return, we had to file the state return. Since the stupid tax software only runs on Windows, I had to bring up Windows. This is distasteful to me. I shudder involuntarily.

One of the good things about Windows is how it identifies hardware that you plug in. Since I needed to print the return, I plugged the printer in, waited too long, then got an error message that it couldn't install the hardware.  Funny, linux installed it in a blink of the eye.

Off I went to get the Windows driver.
Wife breaks out in a cold sweat when she has to do taxes. I break out in a cold sweat when going online to get something specific or ordering tickets or most transactions. This was no exception. After several clicks, I closed my eyes and clicked a few more times, eventually winding up at the drivers page. It correctly identified my operating system and helpfully told me it could not pull up the list of drivers - maybe I could reset the operating system and hit the update button. Only there was no update button, just a change button. So I updated and changed and it refused to let me. When I reloaded the page, it again correctly guessed my operating system again, and couldn't find the list of drivers again.

I can't download drivers from an official website for a huge printer company. Huge. Do you see why I break out in a cold sweat? Every time I need something. I tried two browsers, including [heaven help me] Internet Explorer.

So I rebooted into linux, the One True Operating System, and printed the file.
Windows: it's not an operating system, it's a virus.

• Seven students at an elementary school in Maryland cut their wrists at school using blades from pencil sharpeners.
• Well, I guess we're going to need pencil sharpener control.
• Oops, a ban on pencil sharpeners was announced.
• Things are going to look really weird when the district finishes banning everything the students can use to harm themselves or others. The kids will have to remove shoelaces and belts before they hit the metal detectors, which, instead of guns, will check for pencil sharpeners. Shirts and pants can be used to hang themselves, so they will have to go. Since children are cruel little bastards, they will pick on underwear, so that will also be forfeited. Then some parent will accuse first graders of raping each other so genitals will be banned...

You probably heard about the Southwest plane that was forced to land at Philly International after an engine blew and threw shrapnel through a window, which almost succeeded in sucking a passenger out a window. She was pulled back in by passengers and given CPR. Unfortunately she died. A tremendous job was done by the pilot and passengers. The passenger was the first death in an accident involving a US airline since 2009. This is some safety record. Condolences to family and friends.

• We mourn the passing of Barbara Bush (92). She seemed like a really good person. Her choice in men was questionable...

Starbucks is closing over 8,000 stores for racial-bias education day.

What about gender bias?

Unconscious transgender bias?

Secret Antisemitism?

Latent Latino bias?

within a few years, they're going to have to recover from Cracker Bias.

• A panhandler stabbed a man with a steak knife in New York City when the man refused to give him money.
• SHIT. Prepare for knife control.

A transgender woman is claiming discrimination because she was booked into the male section of the Sacramento County Jail. The jail promised to send her some money when it gets a job.

The person identifies as a transgender woman. I identify as a surface to air missile. What section will the drop ME into? First you have to check to see if I have the correct surface to air missile parts.

"My humanity was stripped."  Sorry, you can't say huMANity. It's sexist.

She feared for her safety in the male population. "I have female body parts; I just felt dehumanized." I think part of the problem here is that she also has male body parts.

I am not lacking in compassion. I feel compassion for the poor jail staff, who weren't sure what to do with this lady. Seriously.. if she has any more than the required male or female parts, or they're intermixed, what are they supposed to do? The woman was moved to the female population in short order. A spokesman said transgenders are always booked separately. Furthermore, the woman was put into a cell by herself, which happened to be on the male side.

Naturally, transgender advocates are up in arms, demanding transgender equality behind bars. Naturally, I have a solution: if transgender and other people spent more time IN bars, they wouldn't spend much time BEHIND them. My other suggestion is, heaven forbid, not to do the kind of stuff which would land you behind bars.

• The phalanx of lawyers hired by Bill Cosby to defend him against rape charges put their heads (or some other body parts) together and came up with a bulletproof defense: Bill doesn't like intercourse.
• In addition, they claim each one of the fifty women made it up.
• Who, aside from married women, doesn't like intercourse?

Because it's been quiet at Starbucks(?), a camera has been discovered in the rest room of an Atlanta suburb's store.  An alert customer removed the camera and took it to the manager. The manager immediately called Corporate, which asked if it took any video of People of Color using the bathroom. The camera will also go for bias training when the chain closes its 8,000 stores.

• The Jacksons are very concerned for Paris, daughter of Michael 'No Nose' Jackson, noted racist who tried to become white. Suicide attempts, self-harm, and substance use have plagued her life. 
• Grandmother Jackson became distraught when she learned Paris was dating a model/actress. Grandma is 'not a champion of same sex relationships' and 'believes she may have failed as a guardian'.
• Paris' godfather is Macaulay Culkin. Her relationships with men have been rocky.
• In what possible universe could a child of Michael Jackson turn out to have trouble?

Speaking of unrelated matters, Michael's other child, Blanket, is still suffering PTSD from being called Blanket. Matriarch Katherine put together a documentary only available to paying fans. Joe Jackson, Michael's father, said Blanket is bound for greatness, because he was told so by a fortune teller. Is Michael starting to make sense to you now?

Prince Jackson, Michael's son, has been very quiet since his teenage years. He is rumored to be in a special clinic in the Azores, for children of celebrities to learn how to misbehave and start a life of crisis and gender confusion. Prince had his first nose job at five.

I think the courts should have stepped in and taken Michael, for his own good. Perhaps then he and his poor kids would have had a chance. Prince, Paris, and Blanket: it's time to find a good influence and listen carefully.

• In Chicago, an elderly woman was found pushing a shopping cart which contained the body of a black woman. Police released no other details.
• You mean you're not supposed to push carts with dead bodies in them in Chicago? That's not what I heard.
• The elderly woman was sent to Starbucks for bias training.

Revenge porn, the practice of putting pictures or video online featuring your ex to shame them, is a hot topic on the internet. One popular site was taken down already. A Texas appeals court just ruled that revenge porn is protected by the First Amendment, noting that it usually prohibits "content based" restrictions.

As a First Amendment proponent, this is a very interesting case, which could wind up at the Supreme Court. I haven't seen the law, which covers a small portion of Texas, and is supposedly vague.

• I joke and snicker about Knife Control, as we all should. Today brings the news that a Texas mother who lost her son in a knife attack is calling for knife control, stating that the perp “should have not been allowed to have an illegal knife on him and use it to murder somebody.”
• Should we set up knife checkpoints all over Texas? If this was, as she said, an illegal knife, this proves that any sort of control will fail. And what's an illegal knife?
• It's bad enough that we have a country desperately trying to be a Nanny State, but useful idiots like this are making it worse.

RIP Coal: one of the good ones.

The Hair on my Left Elbow is Killing Me

Due to my love affair with the couch, I seem to be attaining a soda belly. It's not my fault.. I'm not doing anything different.

Wife brings me some fresh cupcakes. I thank her and remind her, for the fourth time this week, that I'm trying to cut down.

"SINCE WHEN DO YOU CARE WHAT YOU LOOK LIKE?"


After that, she went to visit my parents. Mom was taping flowers to the wall. This is not a good thing. Mom would have ordered special flower mounts, not used tape.

It's just another day.

• Saturday: 80 degrees. Sunday: 40 degrees. Monday: 4 hour flash flood warning. Tuesday: raining carburetors.

It's a sad thing to have to admit, but I never saw Led Zeppelin live. I did, however, catch the solo tours of Page and Plant immediately after. Page's doubleneck guitar got a round of cheers as it was put on its stand.

Everyone seems to be up for a reunion except Plant. It's difficult to form an opinion on this.. I want to see Led Zeppelin, as do millions across the globe. Plant's reasoning is that he doesn't want to be a best-of act. Understood, but if you do new material, you're not a best-of act. Meanwhile, his solo career is going well. I've seen a few concerts online and his band is in fine form and the songs are good. They even slip in a reworked Zep tune here and there. Recommended.

What's bothering me at the moment (as opposed to what's bothering me in general or specifically at any other moment) is something about Plant's solo career.  I don't even know what it is.  Recently I discovered some live shows from the early 80s. I was there, front and center, at the hockey stadium. For whatever reason, it became very important to listen to the concert and collect more. The music came back to me. I remembered the riffs and where everything went, including stuff I didn't remember I remembered. And then I had my fill.

Don't you know that I came across another old concert and some rehearsal material and listened for a bit. Now the songs are whirling through my head again, like one of those amusement park rides that... whirl. It is said that music recalls another time and place. I certainly don't feel like a different time or place. I feel good tunes. Regardless, they're back again and I'm enjoying them. It's just that I always have to know why, which makes life frustrating.

• England recently held the BAFTA Game Awards. Yes, an awards ceremony dedicated to video games. Next year, the Hand Mixer Awards air for the first time. I, for one, can't wait.

If you log into your Yahoo or AOL email (if you still have AOL email, there's little that can help you), you'll see a new privacy and terms notice. In light of the Faceyspaces scandal, they want you to know they're reading your email, and will most likely share it with Verizon, their parent company. Full disclosure is wonderful, isn't it? Don't you feel better?

Speaking of Faceyspaces, Techpinions did a survey on 1,000 people, of which 9% said they deleted their accounts. I'm trying to figure out if this is a good thing or a bad thing. If the numbers hold, it's a pretty significant thing. To reach 9-10% of Faceyspaces users usually requires the personal invitation of a Kardashian. Or meth. While this number is significant, I'm bothered it wasn't higher. THANK YOU, SIR, MAY I HAVE ANOTHER?

Speaking of Faceyspaces again, they just deleted over 100 private discussion groups that have been facilitating identity fraud and cybercrime on the platform for years. Faceyspaces did not discover the groups by themselves. The whole operation would've been quick and efficient if someone complained that the groups were hate groups, run by right wingers.

• Many Android device manufacturers are not telling the truth when they say they have patched phone vulnerabilities in new updates, researchers found. Fortunately I have nothing to worry about, as my carrier is too stupid to update anything and can't even tell me if I'm going to get the next version of Android.
• Reminder: put black tape or something solid over your laptop or tablet's camera. It's no longer something just us tin foils do... Zuckerburg does it too.

Are you a T-Mobile customer?
They just got hit with a $40 million FCC settlement by using fake ringtones. When you'd call someone out of range, they'd play ringtones, making you think the other party was hearing the phone ring. This was banned in 2014. Ever wonder where the settlement money goes? Certainly not to the affected parties.

• Russia is attempting to ban the secure message app Telegram. You know you're doing well when a country's leader wants you blocked.
• ThermionicEmissions' strong recommendation is to use Signal. It's available for all platforms.

David Buckel, famed gay rights lawyer, set himself on fire in New York to protest the use of fossil fuels. In a statement, the nations of the world pledged to stop using fossil fuels immediately. I sure hope he didn't use an accelerant.

• It is of no matter that there are gays in the NFL. What does bother me is that the Social Justice Warriors (SJWs) are starting to get by the detectors. NFL player and activist Terry Crews said: 

• “People have to understand that masculinity can be a cult, and when I say cult, it’s not different from David Koresh, it’s not different from Jim Jones,”

Is this some sort of Halloween joke, where he dresses as a football player but in reality is some crazed uber-feminist with green hair? The cult of SJW is large and strong now.





A substitute teacher in the Philadelphia school district has been suspended for allegedly hitting first graders.  That's one way to teach respect early on...

Speaking of Philthy, Mother Nature was booked yesterday for drunk driving. There was a line of coke on the dash and a speedball in her pocketbook.

• A college in California (of course) is hosting a No Whites Allowed pool party.  Can you imagine a college hosting a No Blacks Allowed pool party? There would be riots and calls to burn the school down.
• The invite stated only "people who identify as POC" permitted to attend (person of color).
• No problem. I identify as a person of color. And a fire engine! Vroom vroom - wooooooooooooooo!

A few days back, there was an incident in a Philadelphia Starbucks, that has no doubt gone around the world. The only facts not in dispute are that there were two male People of Color. The employees told the men they couldn't use the restroom if they weren't paying customers. They called the police, who escorted them out. Both the police, who were on camera, and the mayor state that the police did nothing wrong. The POC are claiming racism. Starbucks has apologized, letting a POC spokesperson deliver the news. Philly's Groups You're Supposed to Apologize To are apoplectic, saying that they will not accept Starbucks' apology.

The mayor will meet with Starbucks, along with his HR Helpers in case of Unconscious Bias. Starbucks will force sensitivity training. It's good that the mayor could take time away from soda taxes and his great work with his sanctuary city.

Unconscious bias. What a great term!  Is racism losing its effectiveness?



Later that night, in a Philadelphia row home:

Dad, I learned about racism today in school. It's terrible. I'm not racist, am I?

No, son, you're not overtly racist, but we have to consider that you might be unconsciously racist.

What is uncongslee racist?

Well, you could be racist and not know it.

But Dad... how can I be racism and not know it?

Err... you could have a tiny little racism gene, waaaaaay down inside.

Well how do I know?

That's why the school district says everyone has to take unconscious racism training.

[crying] But Dad... I'm NOT a racist!

I know, Bobby, but you have to trust the training.

Will it tell me if I'm racist?

Um.. not entirely.

Then why do I have to take it - you know I hate tests.

Because everyone is racist, son. Unconsciously at least.

Who says that?

Human Resources departments.

How do they know?

Because... uhhhh.. they were told so.

By who?

Industry people. Mostly lawyers.

Do lawyers know if you're racist?

No, lawyers know that it's bad publicity to not look like you're doing something, plus people of color will blame you for being racist. 

So I might not be racist unconshly?

No, but they invented the term just in case.

Dad, what's white privilege?

SHUT UP AND GO DO YOUR HOMEWORK.

Thank God for the federal government. Without their intrusive nannying, it's a wonder any one of us is still alive. The FDA has banned the sale of caffeine in bulk quantities directly to consumers.  No, seriously. They said it could lead to injury or death.

Still no word on aspartame, or the thousands of other things they approved that can cause injury or death. Next week, the FDA will ban water, because too much water can kill you. Look up hyperhydration or water toxemia.

If any of you can snag an interview with Ben Franklin or Thomas Jefferson, can you ask them about this? I'm pretty sure their intent was to allow citizens to make their own mistakes.

• The Pentagon has turned loose a $5.1 million contract to a cybersecurity to identify illness in its soldiers via their smartphones. SARGE - hold your fire - I need to send a text!
• The phone's camera, microphone, and motion sensors will be used 'to keep tabs on deployed U.S. service members.'
• The ACLU said there just might be some privacy issues here.
• What kind of pussies work at the ACLU? Just because the government will soon have the ability to monitor your 'health' by turning on every sensor your phone has, doesn't constitute a privacy problem.
• I call BS. They can already turn on the sensors. This is just preparing us for the announcement. Even if you don't believe me, you can still see it happening, right out in the open.

That Damn Cartoon Music

I've been a Frank Zappa fan for as long as I can remember.
And why not? When you put a song like Yellow Snow near a teenager, it's bound to happen.

I had no choice but to dig deeper into the catalog. I liked more and more of his music. The first album (yes, album) I got was The Mothers, Live at the Fillmore 1971. This quickly became a favorite, playing over and over, even though I had to get up to flip the record every time. Aside from the very interesting musicianship, the thing that got me was the fantastic interplay between the singers, Mark Volman and Howard Kaylan. Only later did I learn they were The Turtles (Happy Together, actually performed on the album), aka Flo and Eddie. These two were hysterical and worked incredibly well together and with the band. Of course Frank rehearsed them to the edge of their lives. It was a huge production, and I wanted to see that live. Alas, this was a small part of Zappa history, without a ton of video I could locate. This was also before the internet [SHOCK and AWE!].

The theme of the album was being a rock star and traveling all over the country, meeting and trying to bed groupies.  Between the hilarity was instrumental bits that were kind of interesting. Not the usual masturbatory guitar solos I listened to normally. Frank was a great guitar player and a complete 180 degrees from anyone else who played. He played for as long as he wanted, and it was interesting all the way. The instrumental bits were not all guitar solos - he had other interesting things happening, but not too weird... just slightly out in his own neighborhood. Do you see why I never got called to write reviews professionally?

It's a good thing, too. Whenever I read or hear a review, I always wonder if the reviewer and I listened to the same piece of music. What I heard as ear-piercing howling, the reviewer referred to as 'the wide range of the lead singer's voice'.

In any case, further explorations into Frank's catalog turned up a few more hits and catchy bits. And even more strange, out there compositions. I refer to them as compositions because that's what we was: a composer. Yes, he had songs, but some of the stuff he did was beyond explanation; way too complex for my young ears to grasp. So I left the compositions there and enjoyed the Joe's Garage trilogy.

As I matured musically (who the hell am I kidding - I matured in nothing and remain the same genial hardhead I was at 16), I went back to the complex stuff and found I had an appreciation for it. Mind you, this is the music that parents and girlfriends call Cartoon Music, because it's very busy, fast, and jumps around a lot. It's also impossible for most rock musicians to play, but I appreciated the hell out of it. Mrs leftystrat, not so much. Since she processes things differently, it's too busy for her. Having read Vonnegut, especially what read like time travel, it confused the hell out of me. She said it was perfectly understandable to her. Oh well... if we were the same, there'd be no fun in it.

In listening to the more complex stuff, I gained an appreciation for what must've been involved, and composition in general. I sure as hell couldn't do that.

Try it out for yourself. A ton of his songs appears on YouTube. Funny stuff and cartoon stuff. Also a series called Shut Up And Play Your Guitar, which is, as you'd expect, only instrumental. If you like the music, please purchase it to help his kids, who are split into warring factions.

• A blind guy goes kayaking in the Grand Canyon. Fortunately he's not crazy enough to do it himself: he takes a guide who knows the area like the back of his hand, as well as his team, which stays in touch by radio. You know what happens next, right? There's a sudden disturbance in the water, a reinforced fiberglass paddle snaps, and the kayak turns over, trapping him in the water.  The guide, I mean.

How's Marshall?

He went for his followup visit at the acupuncturist the other day. She's very pleased at his progress. His lesion has shrunk significantly! We're beyond thrilled.

Think about this for a minute. The doctor thoroughly examines him, sticks a few needles in him and sends him home with some Eye of Newt and Stuff, and he's doing better in two weeks, maybe sooner. What does this tell you about chemicals?

Possibly to detract from getting well, his behavior has gone down the loo. He has successfully taught his mommy to walk him on command. Marshall has his own yard, so he can do whatever he wants. But there's something about his leash that makes him happy. Starting at two or three in the morning, he whines, very quietly at first, then ramps the volume and pitch until she gets up and does what he wants. Since he discovered she will walk him, he now sits by the door and whines. He trained her faster than he could ever be trained. To be fair, we never know whether the pitiful whining is pain or manipulation. My wife, bless her, lets me sleep because I have to work. Plus training me could take years.

As we know, I'm always late to the party.
HOW LATE ARE YOU?
I'm so late that I didn't know Barry Manilow was gay until last year.
THAT'S REALLY FRIGGIN LATE.

I didn't realize the power of my own dog.

When he went to the acupuncture doc, she and her assistant were oohing and ahhing over him, saying no way he could be 13-14 and he has a puppy face. The doc asked if it was ok to take pictures of him. Ok, but I'm not going to be a stage parent.

The regular vet practice is also incredibly fond of him. We take him when we're just picking something up and the multi-doctor practice goes on hold until everyone has come out and said hi to him. He's a celebrity.

On twitter, people follow his progress. One fan said if she lived here, she'd steal him.

That dog has more mojo than Dr John. If I ever needed a date, all I'd have to do is stand near him.

I can say, completely objectively, that he's a tremendously good looking cocker.
And some sort of furry therapist... he brings out all sorts of things in people.  Who knew?

Fuzzy Green Chairs

Know what a Stingray is? The one that isn't a Corvette.
A Stingray is a catch-all, as well as a brand name for IMSI catchers. Wasn't that helpful?
It's a device sold to law enforcement that gets put up as a fake cell tower, to catch and monitor your cell phone. You have no idea it's there; the phone operates normally.

One company found a bunch of them in DC. Nobody knows whose they are. The letter agencies are aware of them, but some claim not to know either. Very smart operation, guys.

So it wasn't enough that law enforcement spied on you, now it's all over the place in DC and no one is sure who is doing the spying. Or what's going to be done with, or about it.

Isn't that lovely?

• Panera Bread, Sears, and Best Buy have been hit by breaches. Check your accounts and act accordingly.

Question of the day: Does the color azure make anyone else manic?

The Faceyspaces Saga. On and on and on

• It's interesting to watch the Shitstorm facing Faceyspaces. Zuckerburg had a small point, telling people they ok'd the spying when they signed up. This is true; we know nobody reads the terms - they just hit OK.  Just the other day, I had to ok a license on my phone... rest assured I read the terms.
• And now, Zuckerburg is getting a lot of blowback over the privacy invasion that is the actual business of Faceyspaces. Yes, people, you are the product. Your data is being sold and not only do you lose your privacy, you're not making a cent on this. In case you didn't know, FB owns Instagram, so they have yet another data collector. While we're at it, Google owns YouTube.
• I want to emphasize that the Faceyspaces app on your phone has access to most of your data. It catalogs every phone call you make, as well as every text message. If you have friends that you might not tell your spouse about, FB knows. If you're texting with a 'special friend' that you might not tell your spouse about, FB knows. This is just the start of the info. At very least, uninstall the phone app and use a browser.
• Just because we're on this topic, Zuckerburg also mentioned that their reverse search function, where you enter an email or phone number to find a contact, was scraped, potentially exposing the data of two billion users (their total userbase).
• Apple co-founder Steve Wozniak is leaving Faceyspaces. Good move, Steve, but this isn't exactly new.
• What is new (aside from me warning everyone) is that FB has extensive profiles on people who aren't on FB, including a lawyer for the ACLU. This article is not for the faint of heart.
• Hot off the presses: Faceyspaces just suspended another firm for "non profit academic research", which translates to "we've got all your data too".
• Check to see if your data was shared with Cambridge Analytica.
• Annnnnnnnd once again, I'm not a conspiracy theorist - I'm a futurist. Or just a guy who's very concerned about privacy and safety. I TOLD YOU SO.

Twitter is again showing their colors by shadowbanning Ted Cruz's tweets. I'm not a Cruz fan, or a republican fan, or a democrat fan, but they are doing things and need to be called out on them. It's not that private corporations are required to play fair, but they're being very sneaky about it and people need to know. Nowhere does Twitter let people know that they actively discriminate and outright censor everybody to the right of Rob Reiner. I stick up for conservatives in this case because next time, they could decide to start throwing out libertarians. One account was terminated because the owner objected to a court decision. 

What is shadowbanning? Making an account much less visible. It's a discovered then admitted process.  Followers of the account don't see all the tweets.  What kind of 'trusted' platform does this in the dark?

The CEO of Twitter, the infamous @Jack, openly called for a war against republicans recently, on the national stage.  This is a small first step toward disclosure, but Twitter needs to admit its bias and make it put it in their terms. Let the people make their decisions by themselves.

Meanwhile, conservatives (and even 4 or 5 us libertarians) are moving to gab.ai, which absolutely does not discriminate against anyone. Free speech comes with speech you don't like, and this means I have to put up with a small amount of antisemites and what look like nazis. They're ugly, and the scum of the earth, but  deserve free speech as much as anyone else. Like Twitter, you can block or not follow people you don't like.

Speaking of @Jack, an article, quoting anonymous internal sources, alleges that the initial checkmark removals and alt-right bans came directly from Jack.

• Best Buy and Kmart say they're victims of the same third party breach that affected Delta and Sears.

One day we're sitting on the couch, snacking and doing what people do when sitting on the couch (no, not fighting). All of the sudden I hear STOP IT. Huh?  Stop making that noise. What noise? That noise.... you're not doing it right. Huh? You have to take a bunch out at one time and eat them. You can't reach in and get them one at a time. That noise drives me crazy.  

Oh.

Notice my contribution to the discussion largely consisted of Huh?

So I'm minding my own business, as I do, when the wife goes by, on the way to a different floor. Minutes later, I hear the dog shrieking to come in. Wife let him out. The longer he waits, the higher the pitch and frequency of the shrieking. The neighbors probably think he's being abused. My question to you: is my wife being passive aggressive by making me go get the dog?

Because if it is, I need to eat some snacks.

• I just heard about free range eggs. Do they allow the eggs to roam? What does that look like? Do the neighborhood teens wonder if they got more for their drug money?

Overheard: 

I'm out of bullets.

How did that happen?

I shot them all.

• A sex robot inventor said his creations helped save his marriage. He would turn to the robot when his wife wasn't in the mood. This is almost like my concept of Vice Wife; the woman who would take over when the Wife was not able to perform the duties of her office.
• Ever clever, my wife said perhaps she should get a Vice Husband. I'm a fair guy - go ahead. The only duties of office I fail at are mowing and trash.
• I predict the inventor's next disagreement will involve who cleans the doll when he's done.

I don't have much to say about the Cosby trial, other than noticing he's in great shape at comedy gigs and bumbles and stumbles like an aged Hillary Clinton on the way into the courthouse. He was rushed the other day by a topless woman, protesting his actions. The woman was identified as an actor who appeared on his show a few times, whose character was named Roofie Johnson.

• A West Virginia woman was arrested for beheading her boyfriend before telling cops, “You have to take me back and let me get my heads,” as they drove her away from the bloody scene, authorities said. Her lawyer is complaining about the judge asking for a test of mental competence, stating that it tarred his client's good reputation and her impending run for public office.

A man who ate a Carolina Reaper, the hottest pepper known to man, experienced dry heaving, neck pain, and bad headaches, referred to as thunderclap headaches. Who could have imagined that a man eating the hottest pepper on the planet would experience any negative effects?

The next time someone expects sympathy for their migraine, poo poo the idea and tell them to come back when they have a real headache.

• Baltimore, a hell hole even bigger than Philly, is attempting to drive tourism in new and untested ways. A man was jogging nude through rush hour traffic. Note to Baltimore: you might want to try it with a woman. 

Even YouTube isn't immune to hackers. Someone got into YT and deleted all sorts of videos, including Shakira's Vero YT account.  In the spirit of international brotherhood, I have volunteered to sacrifice my time to comfort her on this tragic loss.

• Pro Tip: before you come in the house and yell "Nipple check on aisle three", make sure no one but the owner of said nipples can hear you.

Why is it always California?

A bill has been introduced in California, which would require state-sanctioned fact checkers to approve online content. It's a shame we can't mandate fact checkers for lawmakers.

• Proving that satire is dead, the mayor of London has enacted knife control.
• The UK spends a lot of time laughing at the US, but now it's our turn. The police can stop anyone they suspect of carrying a knife and search them.
• First the ubiquitous spy public cameras, then the ban on speech that hurts feelings, and now Stop And Search for knives. It sounds more like a police state than the great country it was.

After getting cut off in traffic, Texas' own Ryan McFaul did the only thing a reasonable man could do: pulled out his BB gun and shot at a church's windows. The BBs went through the outer pane of the dual pane glass and no one was hurt. McFaul is out on $5,000 bond, with the condition that he holds the gun backwards the next time he shoots.

• Security Theater: Next time you're getting groped by the TSA at the airport, you better have your snacks ready for inspection. In yet another bid to look relevant, the TSA is going to start screening snacks. By the end of the year, look for intense shoelace scrutiny. Inside sources also point to underwear checks.

Canada is Pissed

I take a decent amount of crap online because of my pro Second Amendment views. Also my pro First Amendment views. This is largely on Twitter, as one would guess. It's just a matter of time until tweeters are not allowed to mention the Second Amendment. The most shocking, shrieking rebuke came from a Canadian. This particular Canuckian is a nice lady and we've been online acquaintances for a while. After the Florida shooting, I attempted to explain the Second Amendment and she yelled, as best one can yell in text, that I have the blood of children on my hands. Canadians generally live up to the stereotype of being nice people. Even the border guards are unfailingly polite.

In an email exchange with another Canuckian who is so level, you almost need to check for a pulse, she mentioned she doesn't like our president or our guns. I asked for some specifics and could feel the volume going up and the seething start. I guess I found the pulse.

I (used to) love hearing American jokes and what other countries thought of us. The main object of their laughter was that Americans only know one language. In a complete verification of the joke, Americans will not see the problem with that. 

Now all I hear is hatred for Trump and gun ownership. I really don't want to be lectured about my country and its Constitution by people not living under it (and roughly 50% of the people who do). They seem to think we're all armed to the teeth and the act of walking down the street puts one's life at risk. Please. They advocate gun control, in the form of not having them at all. They think this will stop the mass shootings. Oops - it seems the criminals are performing the majority of crimes, so gun confiscation will do nothing but harm law-abiding people. Here's another mini fact: all school shootings have occurred in gun-free zones.

I'm not sure outside folks are getting our culture or our Constitution. Ironically, they seem quite ok with the First Amendment.

Agoraphobic Mall Trips

Not frequently, but every now and then, a family member pisses me off. When my brother bought his first house, an older lady, whose thinking functions were fading, sold it to him. The house hadn't been redecorated in a while, resulting in what I referred to as 'The Trip Room'. The room came complete with silver mylar wallpaper, which was enough by itself, but also this unimaginable fuzzy green chair. I asked him to preserve just this one room, as some weird sort of tribute, perhaps to the seventies. He, or someone he happened to be married to, rejected the idea with great speed and efficiency.

Now, I hear the kitchen is being remodeled. The kitchen features some quiet but bizarre wallpaper, with tiny pineapples on it. It became a running joke, then I heard it was coming down. Again I asked one small favor... if you're not going to leave the wallpaper, at least leave a few square inches of it on a hidden space somewhere. Again I received an immediate answer in the negative.

My relatively new motto is "I ask for very little. And that's exactly what I get."  But I asked, because if you don't ask, you don't receive. And I'm feeling some kinda way about this. It's not like I asked for $50,000 or to live with them. Or for one of them to mow my lawn. Just a chair or a tiny piece of wallpaper. But nooooooooo.

If he had asked me to keep one small thing because it amused him, I'd do it in a heartbeat. Unless he asked me to clean... that's not going to happen.

• Life is funny. When I was a little boy, Mom would throw her munchkins in the car and take them to the mall. The other day I piled my parents in the car and took them to a mall and dinner.  It's the least I could do.

I'm still working diligently on my agoraphobic certificate. 

As you may remember, agoraphobes stay in their house and are afraid to leave. I can't get the full official certificate, as I still have to work. There are no exceptions. It also happens that whenever I do make it out of the house, I wish I had stayed home. So right now I shall retain my amateur status. Or maybe part-time agoraphobia.. I'll have to ask a professional.

That aside, as is bound to happen once every month or so, I left the house, not on a work mission. Remember mission, as this is another one of those Literary Devices I throw around now and again. I'm not a writer, but I know two or three terms, so I'm throwing them around.

We decided to take my reasonably near-sane parents out to a mall and dinner. They're always delighted to see us, possibly just because it means leaving the house, but I suspect they actually like us or something.

We went to a mall, so the ladies could look at Stuff. My wife has a favorite department store. My wife has many favorite stores, physical and virtual. This particular store is such a favorite that we frequently don't get out into the mall proper, because she's spent so much time there. We were determined, however.

After only two or three bags, weighing thirty pounds each, were purchased, I was unanimously elected to take them to the car or drag them through the mall. This is like choosing between chin-ups and running in the cold for (NOOOO) exercise. The car was pretty far away, so I dragged.

Why was the car far away? Every time we go to this mall, we park right up front. That day everyone and their extended family was at this store, perhaps because it was sunny outside. Yes, they couldn't wait to leave their houses because it was nice outside, so they could go to the enclosed mall. Logic is not our strong suit.

Just as it was last time, the area was heavy with Brow Options. There was a store called Brow Bar. I'm not entirely sure what went on there, but no one was being serviced. It didn't appear they were selling brows and I didn't notice a Brow License anywhere, so we were stymied.

Mom and Wife went into Victoria's Secret. Most people don't bother to find out, but I know Victoria's Secret: it's how they get women to spend so much on so little. Even little girls have little (fully covering) clothes. Now teenagers feel the need to look pretty under their clothes. We're a weird planet.

The menfolk discovered seats in the mall area and took full advantage of them. Twenty minutes later, Dad starts to get a little itchy, as the womenfolk hadn't returned.  I didn't understand the commotion; they would find us when (if) they were done shopping. This could eventually be to my detriment because the more I'm not with her, the more time she has to shop, and by shop, I mean spend. Dad got more and more itchy and probably failed to understand my calm. He called both of them on their phones, neither of which could hear them ringing. This is unlike my wife's phone at home, in which buried people, dead for a hundred years, can hear clearly. So Dad paced while I checked for the one piece of email I get every day or so.

We eventually found them. They had snuck behind us, across the mall to a different store. A store that has the same clothes, shoes, and jewelry in ten sections, displayed by color. Women understand this. Men, as usual, don't have a clue or a chance. It's not like my wife is there a lot, but they greet her by name.

The mall used to be a small affair; two anchor stores with some other stores sandwiched between. At some point they decided to add more stores. Unlike other malls that run east to west or north to south, this one added a cluster of stores outside this exit and six restaurants out back, not connected to the mall. It looked like some sort of tree branch, after the nuclear holocaust. As a manly man and a damn-near considerate person, I offered to retrieve the car so no one (else) had to do more walking. I showed everyone the exit I'd meet them at and asked them to stand there.

Because of the hodgepodge layout, one simply does not drive around the mall, like some sort of Indianapolis speedway at two hundred miles per hour; one drives around a ninety degree side, then out and around a bank that mysteriously popped up out of the ground, obscuring mall traffic. Then past the first mall entrance (or the last mall entrance, depending on where you entered) and around what looked like some sort of truck receiving area, but what in fact was a place for some unnamed Italian outfit to store bodies before they go out for processing.  Attached to the crematorium was a huge parking garage. This is a mall, mind you. The parking garage obscured it. At this point the phone rang. The phone does not ring at home, nor while I'm out doing something; it only rings when I don't want to hear it or I'm doing something that precludes me from answering it. At this point I was in the middle of a U-turn, fortunately with no one else coming. I went to get the phone from its holder and, as always, was completely blocked by the seatbelt. I hate seatbelts. Their only use is to hold your dead body in the seat after the accident. They get in the way of the phone, the radio, the wallet, and any of my wife's parts I wish to touch while we're both in the car.

Wife informs me they're waiting by Jeans House, John's Snotty Upscale Market, Half Foods, and Chicosan's Boutique. These are all stores I never heard of nor visited in the mall, so this wasn't helping me. This was also not where I told them to meet me. I asked a simple question: why didn't you meet me where I asked? We couldn't. You couldn't exit at the mall exit? No, we couldn't get out the doors. I decided to let that pass because if I took any time at all to think about it, it would produce massive headaches and possibly homicidal behavior. She said it was a bit down and brown outside. Oh, the brown section! Down by the thing. Yes, those were directions alright... just not directions for anyone who wasn't standing next to her at that moment. I promised I'd look and guaranteed I'd see her by dinner tomorrow.

Eventually I found the Brown Section, with yet another clump of stores not attached to the mall, requiring circling the outside of the drive and yet another U-turn, fortunately sans ringing phone. Some fellow got out of his car right before I drove up the lane and proceeded to walk, verrrrrry slowly, in the general direction of the store clumpage. I do not drive an electric car, so it makes six cylinders of noise. Noise this fellow apparently did not recognize as a car, so he continued moseying on down the lane, as I prepared to turn onto the main road. He outsmarted me by also turning, ever so slightly as to slow down my turn too. Talk about homicidal urges... this behavior should be punishable by a fine not to exceed five thousand dollars, plus wearing a sign outside the store for a year that says "I'm a slow walking car blocker".

It was all I had left not to zoom past the lot of them and take myself home, where Marshall was impatiently waiting, but in some countries it is considered rude to leave your elderly parents standing outside a mall for a few days (not your wife, though). No matter, I thought, at least we were off to our favorite barbecue place for our favorite barbecue. They even have a vanilla ice cream machine with tiny little cones for dessert and you get to pull the lever yourself. It's the little things....

We drove there, parked the car, got out, walked two steps, and discovered our favorite barbecue place had closed permanently. Not a sound from four people. We stared, mute. BUT OUR FAVORITE BARBECUE PLACE!!! It's not there. It's closed. We cannot purchase barbecue here anymore. No loaded potatoes, fried oprah, pulled this and that.. and no ice cream.  If we were but a few years younger, we would have stood there, crying, and proceeding to have an absolute FIT in the parking lot. No one was around, but I wouldn't let that stop me if I were going to throw a Serious Tantrum. I threw a Medium Tantrum when my wife dropped a candle and smashed five pounds of glass in her store. That day she was having a very serious problem with gravity. Sometimes it works much more heavily on her than the rest of us. So many things dropped and lept out of the cart that I took to calling her My Little Disaster Area. Romantic, no?

So there we stood, on the verge of Serious Tantrum, when my wife came up with  what she thought was the perfect solution: going next door and shopping at the strangely upscale second hand store, where one can purchase pocketbooks no man has heard of at obscenely low prices. What is truly obscene is what the pieces of imitation ugly leather cost when they were new. Hundreds and hundreds of dollars for an exceedingly ugly thing to carry around their shoulders. And I'm not talking fuzzy green ugly, I'm talking brown and brown with strange symbols ugly. It's like some huge joke on the part of the pocketbook industry: hey, let's design some absolutely hideous THING, charge $800 for it, then give a few away to a Kardashian. No matter how ugly or expensive, they will fly off the shelves. And sure enough, the internal plumbing crowd of the world stepped right up and snapped them up wherever they could find them. Some of these bags have individual serial numbers. I have guitars that don't have individual serial numbers. They were less expensive than these pocketbooks too.

Needless to say, at least two of us, probably the ones with external plumbing, were less than thrilled. As there was no Manly Section of the store, we assumed Manly Position, which is standing, arms crossed, heavily frowning, eyes front and staring out into a universe that included sitting and eating barbecue. Finally the ladies released us from torment and we struggled out to the car. It's amazing what not getting out much followed by carrying sixty pounds of purchased goodies around a mall will do to you. The back part of my feet hurt. I've never had a pain there in all my life. There is obviously some serious blame to be laid on this topic.

In a rather ironic moment, I drove down the street to our second favorite barbecue place, Mission BBQ (see, I got mission in there, like an almost professional writer). Mission is a chain that has just entered the area, founded upon respect for all armed forces and police. Vets eat free or reduced price. The food is good and the people are so nice, they had to import them from the South, or wherever else people are nice. Certainly not my area. The sad part of all this, aside from our favorite place closing, is that my friends from Texas laugh hysterically when I tell them we had bbq from a chain restaurant. Apparently every corner down there has a different bbq place, each better than the other one. Note to self: bad form to salivate on keyboard. Well, it's all we've got up north, so we have to call it good. Piss off, you hat-wearin', hornswagglin', sweet tea drinkin', hurricane tornado havin' rodeo state. And gitcher dang old horses offa the main streets before they leap on a twelve cylinder convertible Caddilac with steer horns on the front and a horn that plays Dixie.

You can't pay for vitriolic area-specific insults like that, but I put them before you, out of the goodness of my heart, because I like attention and because we're up to ten readers now. If we all work together, I know we can hit fifteen by Christmas (2020).

Art Bell

We're forced to say goodbye to another legend, long before his time.
King of the paranormal nighttime airwaves, Art Bell, left us on Friday the 13th. He was 72 and the cause of death is unknown; an autopsy will be performed.

Art created the nighttime show Coast to Coast AM, which aired on hundreds of stations across American and Canada. Who is on the road at strange hours of the morning? Truckers. Art became a favorite of truckers and anyone else up overnight. He had a very balanced view on most topics, including whatever his guests brought with them, but he was always fair.

Art was a ham (amateur radio operator, W6OBB) and could be heard now and then on 80meters, chatting with others. There's a recording, possibly on YouTube, of Art 'broadcasting', which consists largely of loud snoring. He fell asleep at the transmitter.

His main foil and partner was his wife, Ramona, who would pop on air now and then, but mainly was stuff of legend. She passed around 2006. Art met Airyn in the Philippines and eventually married her, staying there for a while until returning home to Pahrump, NV, near Area 51. They have a daughter.

Wikipedia lists cause of death as complications from Chronic Obstructive Pulmonary Disorder. This might make sense, in light of his chronic obstructive smoking. Even publicity pics featured a cigarette. Ramona Bell died from asthma, I believe.
--
Art featured it all: from local wiccans to conspiracies to a pilot calling from a small plane, venturing into Area 51's no fly zone (probably a hoax but great listening). Another famous story was Mel's Hole, featuring (oddly enough) Mel, who discovered a hole on his property. He'd throw significant things down the hole and never hear anything to indicate it hit. After he went away for a few days, guys in uniform without patches suggested he did not want to live there anymore and he was kicked off his own land.

Mad Man Markum was a handy guy. He bought, stole, and cobbled together something he called a time machine. Judging from what he used to build it, I'd worry less about time travel than serious electrocution. He used transformers that power companies use.

Jonathan Reed took his dog out for a walk, when he came upon something that had landed. His dog went nuts on a thing walking around the landed object and the thing killed the dog. Reed shot the thing, brought it back to his house, and put it in his freezer. This was the start of all sorts of intrigue, involving all sorts of unmarked vans, aliens waking up in a freezer and banging to get out, unnamed agencies, and lots of guns.

You can read about all of these events and decide for yourself if any happened or were hoaxes. They were certainly good listening.

Father Malachi Martin, an Irish priest who might've been an exorcist, was a frequent guest, and a very interesting one. One night he talked about multiple personalities being a real disorder and not being caused by demons. You have to respect a man like that. He was very intelligent and fun to listen to.

Art had a series of odd events happening, usually around retiring and returning to radio. One involved a lawsuit around his son. He stayed permanently retired from Coast to Coast AM, where George Noory resides (who has a phenomenal Indian rug). George, to put it politely, isn't as exciting or endearing as Art.

Finally Art decided to go his own way and start broadcasting from home, over shortwave and internet, hoping to build up another network of stations. In the evening, due to atmospheric conditions, high power AM stations can travel hundreds of miles. I listened to a Boston station in Maryland clearly. This can help popularize shows. Within a very short time, there were gunshots outside of his house and the police were called. I don't know if it was ever solved, but Art did not want to put his family in jeopardy, so he left, continuing to advise and record promos.

There were other suspicious happenings on the air. Whole transmission lines would go down during interesting guests. Segments of the show would magically disappear. One might expect that certain people or agencies would be upset with him, but if you stop and think about it, he wasn't bringing Top Secret Stuff out. Yet this interference persisted.

Thrust into the hot seat was Heather Wade, the former producer of the show. Heather has an incredible on-air voice, is very pleasant, asks good questions, and seems to be well liked. Just days ago she said she purchased Art's guest house and moved from what I believe was the Northwest. She has the ThermionicEmissions seal of approval (yippee for her). I listen most nights. For info, go to Midnightinthedesert.com

Art won the Snuffed Candle Award from the Committee for Skeptical Inquiry's Council for Media Integrity, for propagating bullshit. If you piss CSI off, you're doing a great job. They consist of Michael "don't bother me when I've made my mind up" Shermer and Seth "I'm completely scientific when I say it doesn't exist" Shostak, head of SETI.


We bid the king farewell and thanks for all those nights. We hope he has the answers now. And that they allow smoking wherever he is.

Will the Last Person Please Turn Out The Lights

I've bemoaned the terrestrial radio situation before, but today it got worse.
We have one rock station, and one classic rock station, which plays the same songs by the same artists, over and over and over and over.... Then there's NPR, but I don't need to hear why Trump is wrong about everything or four hours on plants, until most of the listeners commit suicide.

So we're in the car, which is the only time we listen to the radio, as the cd player broke. We put on the rock station and hear..... hockey.

There used to be another rock station that was a hair more listenable. Naturally that couldn't be left alone, so one day they went sports talk. A talk station on FM. Why? Do we need color commentary to come to us with full fidelity? Can't we just listen to our teams lose on AM?

After much searching, I managed to locate the email address of the rock station's program director and sent him an email to share my feelings. Because the world seems to operate on feelings these days. Before you shudder at my feelings, sharing them, or what else I might say to the person, I want you to know I kept it very level. At no point did I threaten his family's well-being or even his genitalia. I made no comments about his predilection for crossdressing or cruising certain neighborhoods after dark. I didn't even complain that the morning team seems to be more of a Morning Mob, with much input from people who sound like they were picked up off the streets in South Philadelphia and told to put in their two cents whenever they felt like it. I simply stated that we have many choices for sports, but they're the only rock station, and how about playing some rock?  Not unreasonable.

I feel much better having done that. Maybe tomorrow I'll send an email to the classic rock station, suggesting they play something different from the 12 artists they play. I know it's what I'd like to hear.

I have got to invest in a new car radio. With AUX IN. It doesn't even have to have AM or FM. Just Bluetooth or a USB stick with music.


Will the last person listening to terrestrial radio please turn out the lights when you're done?


P.S. I received a response from the program director, explaining that they were contractually bound to carry the hockey game, due to some other station carrying football. Or basketball. Or water polo... probably water polo.

Guitar-Related: read at your own peril

Because I like to be told "no", it was time for another trip to Guitar Center. I like to go every now and then to see what's new and if there's anything I desperately need at that moment. They used to have new stuff. Now they have... blah. In large quantities. The place has shrunken down, both in space and inventory. In terms of lefties, it was a good trip: one used Strat, one cheap Strat, and one midline Tele. It used to be better, but stopped. The chain in is financial trouble, much like Gibson guitars. They were bought by Bain Capital, Mitt "Sue" Romney's firm, which squeezes out all profits, then discards.

The new Fenders, as widely publicized after the music show in January (NAMM) were nowhere to be found. Funny, they appear for sale all over the internet. So I asked, only to be told that NAMM is a giant tease, and no one will see the actual guitars til May. This bears checking out.

There was one guitar that caught my eye. It was backwards, but still.. I could probably order it. In fact, it caught everyone's eye because they could not help but see it. Then it burned out their retinas. It was rather unbelievably yellow, in a way that could provide light for a hemisphere of the planet at very least. It might've had a tinge of green, just to make it more.... violently ugly. It was a Charvel and they introduced some wild, LOUD colors recently. Unfortunately Charvel is a metal guitar, therefore I wouldn't like it if it were lefty. Bloody necks that are wide and flat. But it was so wonderfully blinding that I could almost see myself playing it, next to my other incredibly ugly Strat. You know - if I ever played out anywhere.

There were two employees visible, both of whom were very nice and customer-service oriented. The store was dead, but I guess Easter Sunday/April Fools Day is not known as the best time to shop for guitars. I kinda liked it. I went in with money, ready to spend, and failed. I do this a lot, which says something about me.


Will the last person shopping at Guitar Center please turn out the lights?

Makeup

We took a trip to the makeup store too. My wife does not get off on being told no, and it works out spectacularly for her. Or, as we say around Christmas, What do you get the girl who wants everything?

I'm a relatively decent husband, in that I take an interest in things she likes. I don't mind shoe shopping or makeup shopping. Except today. When guys go shopping, they stroll in purposefully, eventually get the thing they want, even if it means looking at a list with one thing on it, and get their ass out of the store. Women are different (no, really?). Every aisle. Everything on every shelf required either a comment (got that, got that, don't have that, got that, don't want that) or physically handling the item. Sometimes this came with an explanation. Normally I can do this with no difficulty. Today was different. I was sweating. My good humor and geniality started to fade quickly (yeah, geniality.... very funny).

These stores are incredible. It's a license to print money. Guys, if you've never followed your lady into a makeup store, you owe yourself a look. Take one of those muscle relaxers first, or a stiff drink (or both) and follow her in. There are all sorts of things in this store, each costing a lot of money. And women and girls flock to these places to be beautiful.

There is makeup in all colors. Want blue sparkly lips? Gotcha covered. Purple eyes? Check. Foundation? Name the shade. Concealer? It will make you invisible. Spackle and trowels? Aisle 3. Want to know why she is short on cash?  Because her lipstick is $19.99, and most everything else starts at $8 and rockets upwards. I was going to surprise her with some perfume, which was only $70, but a better bargain at $99 for a slightly larger size. I buy guitar stuff that doesn't cost me this much.

The focus at this point seems to be eyebrows. Don't ask me, I have no idea and no way to comprehend any of it. Maybe if we find a woman, we can ask. I've been noticing eyebrows lately, because you can't possibly miss them on social media, with the interminable selfies. Just as I was thankful that they stopped doing stupid things with their lips and stopped looking like they slipped across their eyelids and onto the side of their face with mascara, we are now faced with eyebrows. My limited understanding is that ladies used to pluck their eyebrows. Now they can be permanently installed, done professionally, tweezed, hot waxed, drawn under, drawn instead of, and threaded. I understand this process uses thread but have no desire to watch or even have it explained to me.

My eyebrows are strategically located in the traditional spot (right above my left buttock). They largely sit there, occasionally falling out or growing. That's pretty much it. They require no real maintenance, color, marker, or threading (I don't think). No matter.. consult a woman and she'll tell you that you probably could use some cosmetic sharpening of the old above-eye growth. Thanks but no thanks - I've got to wash my hair that night.

Why do women do this?
To make themselves beautiful. After all, if you buy this lipstick, it will give you larger breasts. And if you use that blush, you'll look just like that adorable model on the cover. That eye shadow will make you look like Cindy Crawford, while that perfume will turn you into Julia Roberts, complete with that smile and her perfect-size bum.

How do they know this?
How should I know. It's probably genetic. They walk into a makeup store, find just the right concealer, foundation, and bath salts (not the ones that make you eat the face off people) and go home, safe in the knowledge that they can operate the makeup like they were born with it. If you put the purple stuff on your face, it makes the craters less visible. The green stuff hides pimples and redness. The pink stuff is good for bruises, after you 'fell down the steps' again. The brown stuff... well.... it makes your skin browner. We even saw something that, according to the model, gives you a gap between your front teeth. Some of that stuff gives you big blonde hair! My wife is hip to this scam. She learned a long time ago that you will not look like the model, nor will the stuff work anywhere near as advertised. Smart woman. Only took 13 years to figure this out. You laugh - many women still haven't figured it out.

I spied another poor guy, across the aisle, pretending to be interested in what his lady was showing him. Smart fella. It got me to wonderin'... with all this space, maybe they should either put in a men's section with products, or put in some benches and a tv. Internet access. Cinnabons, my god. Expensive coffee drinks! This is another money-making opportunity for these folks, even if the markup is better on makeup than $7.50 coffee with whipped cream, a few squirts of this and that, a half pump of watermelon, and some soy whipped cream because Muffy is lactose intolerant and we don't want to be following her down the aisles, if you know what I mean.... I need to suggest this to the chain, because I'm incapable of keeping my bright(?) ideas to myself.

The owners of this place have to be wiping their bottoms with hundred dollar bills. With the exception of the Metro group, guys don't do this stuff. But women flock to these places, handing over lots of their hard-earned cash for essence of this and foundation of that.

At the cashier, we stood in line because there was only a cashier. There were others, but they were doing homework for their Looking Busy class. Good job, I tell you. Cashier, a customer too, asked if we found everything ok. STOP. Hold the really bad overhead music. Keep the commentary down. What does that MEAN? We definitely found the things we brought to the counter ok. After having combed the entire store, aisle by aisle, there is very little we didn't find. Did she mean finding the experience ok? No, it was too hot and nary a product for a straight male, except maybe some $29 shampoo.

Better yet, just experience it vicariously through me. I'm here for you.

But That's Not All...

No sir. There's another place one must see a few times in one's lifetime. I won't mention the name, but it rhymes with Head, Laugh, and Be Gone.  I'm not sure our parents imagined a world that included a store carrying beds, coffee, coffee machines, coffee containers, coffee grinders, linens that resist coffee, pillows, towels, kitchen gadgets and makeup. Yes, more makeup.

I don't think it was unreasonable of me, upon her insistence at looking at even more makeup, that I politely told her I forgot something in the car, perhaps a life, and I'd be waiting for her there.

But seriously, folks... all of their stores take up mega-space. They all have room for that weird size brush with the curved handle that allows you to clean the bottom of those 18" tall spaghetti containers. Not the lasagna containers- that's a different tool entirely. And they have this tool in a few colors, plus left-handed for me. If you can afford the retail space for these items, you're doing well.

I have never seen so much coffee in my life, in the form of Keurig pods. They're everywhere, including the bedsheet section.  Let me give you a hint, if you're serious about your coffee: don't buy this crap. Stick with what you know. Especially the stuff with the big V on it. We wasted money on a large box of french roast V coffee and had to throw it out. I like strong, manly coffee, with seven tablespoons of sugar and a half pint of fancy creamer, in a girly way. None of this stuff measures up to Peet's. If you don't mind nicely flavored hot water type beverage, by all means, pick up some pods. There's an infinite variety. Donut Shop (actually reminds you of Dunkin, watered down), Cinnabon (absolutely not - real thing only), Italian roast (tries to sleep with your wife), and Green Mountain. Even people who drink from the toilet should avoid Green Mountain. They're owned by Keurig or vice-versa, and produce coffee-colored, mildly flavored water.

One of my most amusing finds was a creme brulee(?) set, with some bowls and what looked like a mini flamethrower. The first thing I thought, after realizing that I needed a mini flamethrower to go with the large one, is that they couldn't sell this in England. You're not allowed to carry a knife over 3" or generic cutting tools or a hammer, because they're used for breaking in. One guy was barely allowed to keep his carpet knife, because he used it at work to cut carpet. Can you imagine the look on the face of the cop who sees the mini flamethrower? They might have to ring the fire brigade, bomb squad, armed response unit, and an ambulance for the first cop, who had an aneurysm after he saw it.

The store must have a generous Screwing Off policy, as we watched one employee, clearly not on her break, sit on a stool and check her cell phone. Probably forgot to post an important selfie.

The As Seen on TV crowd will have an orgasm over this stock. Pillows, flat hoses, hose extenders, vibrating things, and some sort of flower sponge that sings. I walked away quickly.

I'm secure enough in my manhood to hold my wife's pocketbook, but frequently don't have the shoulder strength. The only thing worse is being stranded by the entrance while she goes to the ladies'. A caring employee finally came up and asked if she could help me find anything. I teared up and told her my wife walked away and I couldn't find her, so this is where we agreed to meet if one of us got lost. There's a reason I don't go out much.

I found a saying recently.... "Every time I go out, I remember why I don't like to go out."

• Students at the University of Colorado earn up to 3 points for attending the annual White Privilege Conference.
• Where do I get me some of this white privilege?
• How many points do I receive for attending the Jewish and Black Privilege Conferences? Will they be combined again this year? What do you get when you combine.... sorry... I said I wouldn't do that again.

Hey, if you're ever in Ukraine (economic problems forced them to change from The Ukraine), I've got the accommodations for you! It's a brand new S&M hotel.  You can get the Dungeon Room, complete with dominatrix (150 pounds/hour). You can even rent by the hour (3 hrs min). There's only one hotel rule: don't appear drunk. You can get out the belt and beat your partner til they're bleeding. Strangle them for pleasure during sex.  Spank them til they can't sit down for the second quarter of 2018. Make them wear WWI gas masks. Just don't appear drunk.

• Back in 2011, a photographer got a picture of Mark Zuckerberg picking up dog poop. Security 'escorted' him to Faceyspaces HQ.
• I think it's great that he cleans up after his dog.
• However, he's a slimy hypocrite who believes it's ok to mine everyone else's data but not his.
• Sorry, bud... if you're on the sidewalk, it's no longer private property.
• There's something wrong when you have your own security force that's not beholden to local laws.

For all of you End of Days folks, a rabbi said he sees Trump rebuilding the temple. I know that has some sort of significance - maybe the messiah? Or something from Life of Brian. He's not the messiah: he's a very naughty boy.

• Comment while watching British tv: hey, she's not ugly!
• Line from British tv show: She's not a foreigner, she's Welsh.

Due to the brewing trade war with China, they said America would learn a "painful lesson" by tangling with them. They have threatened to close all of their restaurants.

• London's death toll has bested New York. That is an accomplishment. The deaths are attributed to knife violence. The first hullabaloo was a demand for the mayor to speak. When he did eventually speak, he said, "Let me clear - there is no reason to carry a knife ... they will be caught and will feel the full force of the law.  Apparently not, Mr. Mayor.
• I think you guys need to sit down and have a common sense talk about knife control. This is when parody writes itself.

A couple of weeks ago, a Tesla driver crashed and died in California. Another one almost met the same fate while on autopilot, at the same location. The theory is that the line paint had faded and the camera could not make it out. However, there were no warnings about crashing into the divider.  Tesla advises its customers to keep their hands on the wheels, and to pay attention. This seems to negate the point of autopilot.

Regardless, this highlights my apprehension over self-driving vehicles. I don't like the way they seemed to appear so quickly. I'm not against them, but I don't think they're ready for prime time. I take a lot of heat for this.

Backwards World

There are over 1,500 people headed through Mexico to the US, aided by Mexico. They have released DEMANDS of President Trump.

“We demand of the Mexico and the United States: that they respect our rights as refugees and our right to dignified work to be able to support our families,” the statements reads.

The second demand is “that they open the borders to us because we are as much citizens as the people of the countries where we are and/or travel.” 

They're not even in America and they're already more entitled than college students.


Speaking of college students, George Washington University is holding a diversity workshop that teaches that Christians, especially white ones, "receive unmerited perks from institutions and systems all across our country."

Christian Privilege. Betcha didn't see that coming.

In case you fear where this is going, I'll add more workshops offered: “heteroesexual privilege,” “cisgender privilege,” “abled-bodied privilege,” “socio-economic privilege,” “unconscious bias,” and more. Don't forget right-handed privilege. white privilege, and male privilege.

Homework: count the number of your privileges.

The Derbyshire Constabulary mens choir is rather upset (British understatement) because they were told they have to admit women. Or at least anyone identifying as a woman.

More than one million illegal aliens have received driver's licenses in California, according to their Department of Motor Vehicles.  Send them to Syria and have them demand licenses.

Parents Being Parents

• Gimme that old time religion: An Arizona mother got her child up for church on Easter Sunday by tazing him. She was promptly arrested for some reason. I think she should be commended for parenting skills.
• Her two children are on probation and the sixteen year old tazee has an ankle bracelet. All she was doing was enforcing discipline. Let's face it - they'll never do that again. Nor will she.

• An Ingram, PA, couple ran a brothel out of their house, where three young children were living. Child endangerment charges have been filed.
• Another responsible parent, teaching her children the value of a second career option. Survival. Business skills. 
• The 18 month old might be a little young, but is it ever really too early to start?

Remember the Defense Department giving out armed forces equipment and vehicles to police departments? Some Wisconsin police are returning mine-resistant vehicles and replacing them with smaller, armored emergency vehicles, due to citizen complaints. Having no bearing on the decision is the fact that they're large, heavy, and difficult to maintain.

What's wrong with mine-resistant vehicles for combat against your own people? How much will the new vehicles cost and who's paying for them?
You know that the rest of the cities and states will follow suit.  Just kidding.

Florida, We Missed You

• It's been a day or two since we heard from Florida, but they've taken a chunk out of the news cycle: a Volusia teen has been accused of biting the head off a live chicken. It's going to be about five minutes until someone's lawyer blames Ozzy Osbourne. Aren't you supposed to wait til they're cooked first?

• So it's Easter, and in Altamonte Springs, some folks are having a nice Easter dinner. Shivon Perez asked a guest, her ex-boyfriend, to fix a pipe. While he was fixing said pipe, she sprayed him with gasoline and set him on fire.
• If he doesn't do the dishes, your next step should probably not be setting him alight. Hit him with a pan, maybe.

Marshall

How is Marshall coming along?
He had his first doggie acupuncture appointment the other day.
Yes, there is a doggie acupuncturist. Or at least that's what she said she was.
She had a degree on the wall from School of Modern Doggie Acupuncture and a white coat with her name on it, so we felt it was safe to go ahead.

The staff fawned over him for a while. We initially put this down to the amount they were charging us wherever we went. It seems to be pretty genuine, and he seems to lap it right up. He's not tremendously social, like his parents, but he does well. He sat there for his treatment, not moving around and not anxious (dogs pant and move their tongues in and out when anxious). The doc was most impressed with his appearance and health for his age and his condition.

These folks are using Eastern medicine. Know what that is? It's what people used before Big Pharma. Natural remedies. Stuff we should all be using. We were advised to modify his diet. I didn't get all the details but one phrase stuck in my mind: "there's a big difference between farm raised and fresh caught salmon." And give him some mushrooms (I thought they were almost inert fungus). So the dog will eat much better than we will, even when we buy expensive food. They said they'll stop the cancer at very least, and they've had success at driving it back some. I believe them. People have had all sorts of ailments cured via acupuncture. So why not my little monster?