Monday, November 23, 2020

My Service Aardvark Fills In When My Service Elephant Has Off

 

Your love is like a made-in-China enema kit


Every now and then I get shown a picture of someone from my past. This takes a circuitous path, especially if the picture came from Faceyspaces. I have 2 friends who send me stuff from Faceyspaces, because I don't have an account. It's like a remote Faceyspaces forwarding service. It also serves as a Faceyspaces Filter, as they only send me the important stuff, which is a picture every 6 years or so.

I hadn't heard the word cyberstalking, but I knew what it was. A friend stalked his ex-wife, another seemed to stalk his friends, and some of mine (I don't understand this.. you've read the blog - I'm not that interesting). Faceyspaces was initially referred to as a place to go to get looked up by people in your 1st grade class or the guy who taught you donkey riding when you were 8 (he always seemed needy, even though you didn't know what needy was either). 

One of my forwarding people sent me pics of people in my old group (the guy who stalked my friends). It was only 50% frightening. One guy was standing there at his sink, missing only a towel for drying the dishes. The female singer... well... she had gone into weightlifting. Or houselifting. People like this sort of thing, mostly the lifters themselves, but I don't. I don't want a woman who can bench press me. If you bump into her in the middle of the night, either you'll bounce off, or she'll make you wish you were dead. It's a bad look for a singer too, unless you're Henry Rollins. Henry is very muscular, and when you pair it with the 'I'm going to kill you and eat your bones' look in his eyes, it sorta works. She, meanwhile, was pretty, and I emphasize the past tense. I'm not sure how you get dates looking like this, except maybe other female lifters, and she wasn't into that. 

So it's good to have someone checking up on your past and sending you current pictures. Ok, it really isn't.


Today I identify as  Ed Sheeran. God, I hate myself.


Life is a learning process. By this I mean that I say stupid shit, and well-meaning people tell me that wasn't the right thing to say at that particular moment, to that particular person. I think it happened again today. The developers from a very large, international corporation asked how my team liked their new interface. All I said was "The interface designers all had some sort of interesting visual impairment." Even if no one tells me I goofed, total and complete silence is usually an indicator. Don't ever tell me I don't pick up on subtle cues.

My boss, bless him, was warned about me. He used to defuse bombs, so nothing rattles him. While this works greatly in my favor, if I'm having a particularly edgy day, and the potato chip clips on my balls aren't doing their job, sometimes I forget to 'play nice'. I figure I'll have this whole thing down sometime after retirement.

Retirement poses its own challenges, as do days off. Currently it's only a days off issue. I don't do well with vacation. I tried to get work to pay me for vacation days not taken, but they filed the idea with all my other ideas, in a special round file, near my personnel file. I told them if they insist I take days off, I'll just get into things, and do they want that on their conscience. They're still 'evaluating' my suggestion. We know I'm helpless around the house, and Mrs lefty is getting tired of my constant demands for boom boom, so she sends me out of the house. This is where the trouble starts. Whenever I'm separated from my couch, I don't know what to do with myself, so the Buying starts. Only I can never find anything I like, so it becomes an exercise in frustration. This is even worse during the holidays (which seem to come weekly at the mall). The only drinks available are at Starbucks, and I don't like Starbucks, so I have a habit of disposing of the drinks in 'interesting' ways. 3 story malls are interesting, but we shan't go there, on advice of my lawyer. I really don't like people, so malls can get tedious, especially around the holidays. We used to have a tradition of going to malls on Xmas eve, getting hot chocolate, and watching people run around like pure idiots, but even that has lost its luster with the Flying AIDS. I could go to the mall without a mask and try to get thrown out, but even that sounds boring. Or a mask that says FLYING AIDS on it. Everyone must be reading this blog because whenever I say Flying AIDS, they know exactly what I'm talking about, including doctors.

Upon further study, I just checked and I have damn near 7 hours to burn off or I lose them. 7 hours! I'm giddy with delight. I shall wake the Mrs and we can plan how to spend it. That's damn near a whole day!  I could start work, eat lunch, then take off the rest of the day, all without leaving the house. Unfortunately this leaves me back at being separated from my beloved couch. I can't bear to go shopping, even for guitars, with these stupid masks. It should be pretty funny at Guitar Center, where musicians, who are the rebels of society, pee their pants if somebody isn't wearing a mask.

And this, Your Honor, is why it's just best to leave me on the couch, with something to do.



  • The FAA cleared the Boeing 737 MAX for flight again.
  • Are you ready to fly on one?
  • Douglas Adams (Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy) refers to flying as 'throwing yourself at the ground and missing.' Let's hope the plane continues to miss.


In case you're interested, torrents available for download today are courses in Blender, R programming, The Long Kiss Goodnight, and something called I F'd My Step-daughter after Bowling Night. This sounds... errr.... umm... interesting. Of course I mean R programming. Blender is pure smut.


  • Scientists, via the New Horizons, discover space isn't pitch black after all
  • It's Pepto pink 


But seriously, folks, there is a Jimi Hendrix movie coming out, called Live in Maui. I saw "Voodoo Child" from it and it was intense. The man was a guitar god and no one has surpassed him. If he were alive today, there's no telling what he'd be into, but it would be good.

Also out is more from the Zappa vault. The Mothers 1970 is a period I really like, with Mark Volman and Howard Kaylan on vocals (they used to be called The Turtles). 


Dear lefty 

  • What hurts more - thumb tacks or wood slivers under the fingernails?
  • Ok, you got me there-I have no idea. Why don't you stop by this weekend and we'll do the science


A massive hack by a state-funded Chinese hacking group hit companies around the world. You gotta admit, China has some solid steel balls. First it's Huawei, then the Flying AIDS, now hacking. They're making a good case for 'regime change' or nuclear test bed. Nah-let's send the CIA in to 'advise' the leaders.


Flying AIDS news

The CDC is pleading with Americans not to travel for Thanksgiving. They will have an employee in every airport, pleading with you personally. At the end of the day, the employee will fly home.

The CDC also warns against non-household members for turkey, and will station one staff member per block to knock down on doors to check.

Jumping on the bandwagon, a Fresno bishop urged Catholics not to 'jump on the vaccine bandwagon'. He has concerns about stem cells, referring to them as morally objectionable materials. Fresno Catholics have concerns about some of the priests' morally objectionable behavior, which is way down on the bishop's list of morally objectionable things.

At the last Bishops' Conference, it was decided that whenever someone mentioned child molestation, they would say "LOOK- STEM CELLS!"

A Los Angeles stay-at-home order might be issued. This could be very beneficial to the rest of the country, but not for the reason Idiot Governor proposed it. Many have suggested Los Angeles stay at home, especially around awards time.

In England, extensive tracking shows the Flying AIDS caught from supermarkets. The British are cautioned to avoid shopping for food.

There's always one: in Philly, a woman wrote #stopthespread and hung masks from her tree. The masks went overnight, but local officials couldn't bear to tell her hashtags don't work on trees.

There's always another one: Idiot Governor's Health Secretary insists masks be worn outside AND inside the house.  Banned are indoor gatherings, indoor dining, casinos, gyms, museums, and libraries. Idiot Governor said they have no intention of implementing another broad-based shutdown (aside from indoor gatherings, indoor dining, casinos, gyms, museums, and libraries). #ImpeachWolf.

A group of restaurant owners are suing Philly over the restrictions. Philly's immediate reaction was 'restrictions are temporary, death is permanent'. Rights are temporary, abusers are permanent. YOU voted these people in, Philly. #ImpeachKenny 


  • if you have seborrhea (scalp itchies), you should probably not pronounce it 'gonorrhea,' especially to your mom or doctor. Don't ask.


That didn't take long?

The UK revealed its Space Force and some sort of AI agency.

Philly Mayor blames Flying AIDS, says Space Force has to stay home and wear masks.


Today in Los Angeles Superior Court, a class action suit was filed, claiming racism in the lack of news coverage of rock and roll one-on-one crime. Robert Plant says no one knows he shot Steven Tyler, Freddie Mercury's estate noted no coverage of his West vs East feud with Tom Petty, and to this day, no one knows how many of Scott Weiland's girlfriends were stolen by Kurt Cobain. Dave Grohl's machine-gunning of Pearl Jam at an awards show never got out, nor did Jimi Hendrix's ongoing theft of Janis Joplin's drugs, which she claimed was the reason she shot him. Plant said, "Yeah, everyone carried a piece. Hardly a car ride was had without a shooting."

The plaintiffs allege that no coverage was given to their violent, drug-filled feuds 'because we were white.' Reached at his satanic mansion, somewhere in the middle of England, Jimmy Page said, "Yeah, it wash like that. I mean.. the 70s were a time of great violence in Rock. Plus we didn't have stupid names like 'Stallion', 'Weekend Chance' or 'Bieber'. I would have died of embarrassment if my manager said to call me Jimmy Thee Mare. First of all, it's spelled wrong, then a mare is female, which nobody seems to question. It's obviously race-fuelled."

All attempts to reach Jimi Hendrix have been futile.



TV is awash with commercials for stuff with beets. If you take the stuff, you'll feel better, more mentally awake, and your nostrils will be larger. Over the years, scientists have worked with beets, and discovered that the problem with beets is that they taste like beets. Yes, they give you all the benefits, but they remain fully adamant in tasting like beets. One product attempted to circumvent this issue by telling you their product has a nice cherry flavor. Or sawdust.

Strangely enough, a beet product appeared in my kitchen. The other day I seriously needed a boost (and to be honest, a little bit of nostril enlargement) Bravely, I put on my armor and mixed it with 8oz (17km Canadian) of water. In addition to all my other areas of impairment, I cannot tell what 8oz of water is. Might be a coffee cup, might be a gas tank. I went for a happy medium - a beer barrel. Cautiously I put it near my mouth... I was already up one(!)-it didn't smell. With a true sense of false bravado, I put some in my mouth. This was my second mistake. OMG, this shit tastes like beets!  Apparently the brand that appeared did not have the good grace to taste like something else. Even broccoli would have been fine. Brussels sprouts. Dog poop. GOOD LORD - BEETS! 

I called in my Head Purchaser, who seemed surprised, even though she purchased it. This is the same purchaser who knows not to let cranberry come within 6 miles of my turkey. She put on her lead apron and tasted it. I gathered, from her rapid trip to the bathroom and resulting noises, she wasn't fond of it either (and she likes beets). She said it would be better in yogurt.

The following morning we had the Scientists in to do the Science. It turns out only 0.00061% of people like beets, and none of them are in North America. Or Earth. In fact, even food banks will refuse beets, as not even the hungry will take them, so they sit there, growing an odd, green fuzz, which eventually evolves the power to speak. If you don't like the flavor, you don't want to hear what they have to say.

So I tentatively dropped a spoonful of beet powder into my yogurt, with the promise that the purchaser would eat it if I didn't like it. Ok, I'm game. First we did some Science, bending down and presenting the powder to the dog. The dog was thrilled, wagged her tail like mad, took one sniff, then walked away. Have you ever seen a lemon face on a dog? It's not pretty. The scientists were aghast. Bouyed by the dog's input, I tried the yogurt. Within a second, I had taken up my purchaser's offer to eat it if I didn't like it, and placed it near her. She hasn't eaten it and I think it's about to say something. I understand not being able to camouflage it in water, but yogurt? I think it refuses to mix with anything out of spite. So you get crunchy yogurt, which might as well be Whizzo Assortment's Crunchy Frog. Even Clorox bleach wouldn't get the taste out of my mouth. So the Emergency Room Special Stomach Squad is on Standby, as is SWAT.



Happys - magic day for guitar players

Dr John

Duane Allman

Frank Marino

Joe Walsh






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