Your love is like catching your nose in the blender
I can almost guarantee that there's not someone in your house, watching Three Faces of Eve, screaming at the tv that "YOU'RE WRONG," "STFU," and "I can do better than that."
Three Faces of Eve is an old movie about multiple personality disorder, starring Joanne Woodward. Joanne went on to star in Sybil, as the therapist for Sally Field's Sybil, who was multiple.
Today I identify as canned air
We've all heard of some bad jobs, but what about the people at the Make A Wish type foundations? What must it be like when all your charges die? Do you need a wish yourself?
I watched the news last night, which is never a good idea.
It was kinda nice to see the story on how local groups are getting together to help Ukrainian citizens by sending basic food and supply packages. This is both a humanitarian and libertarian ideal.
We have a real problem with gangs riding ATVs and bikes, almost flash-mobbing intersections and terrorizing drivers. The police said it's too much of a resource-drain and are no longer bothering with it. I'm going to start robbing banks, since the police are no longer enforcing laws. Hell, I've already got my mask....
As with any city, we have a full complement of news personalities, including a phalanx of Weather Weirdos. Since none of them is ever correct, the networks have to hire them for their proclivities. The general favorite is the generic Large-Breasted Weather Lady. Quickly up and coming is the Scarily-Dressed Weather Lady. We only see commercials with her in them, and boy, is she a sight. Most of the time, it looks like her pre-teen daughter dresses her. This is apparently not a problem, perhaps even a feature for the station. She is, as they now say, a Woman of Size<tm>, so onscreen appearances would be especially important to dress for. I am no expert in these matters, but she is likely pregnant too. When I say not an expert, I mean it's difficult to tell, and even *I* avoid asking women if they're pregnant or just fat. (I've come far, haven't I?)
When not dressed by her daughter, she's dressed by a blind person, in a wheelchair, in the dark. The other night it was some sort of neon green drapes or something, plus what looked like black sneakers, when they showed all of her. She obscures or outshines the weather board thingie in the background. They say some pregnant women look like they're carrying a basketball in there. She looks like she's carrying the whole court. Regardless of the reason, she is still gifted below the neck, so perhaps they were going for generic Large-Breasted Weather Lady, and got a belly with their breasts. Original generic Large-Breasted Weather Lady also seems to expand below her mammalian protuberances, but in more traditional shape for her background.
Maybe it's just me; I like petite.
Before you get on my case for being 'fat-phobic,' it was the choice of the news producers to hire these people, so they're fair game. And don't get me started on the small guy with the bowtie and little extra body surface.
Then there was coverage of the St Patty's Day parades.
Everybody is Irish on St Patty's Day, as my friend Muhammed Cohen tells me.
The main thrust of the parades seemed to be dancing, banner-holding, and drinking. One enthusiast dyed his hair neon green, plus there was green beer. It just doesn't seem enough for a parade. In fact, they tell me it's just a normal Friday in more southern parts of the city. The worst part, of course, is the interviews. I think Philly doesn't get its due in the accent department. Of course the country thinks the South is pretty funny, as is Boston. but the heavier Philly accent is absolutely cringe-inducing, even for Philadelphians. I think the city needs to hire consultants to get its accent more widely laughed at. Knowing the city, there are probably consultants already hired for this, but no one can find them, yet the checks are already cashed.
The spongy moth’s new name replaces an ethnic slur
In a further effort to make everyone say "Just give it a rest," the gypsy moth has been renamed the gypsy beaver. This should hopefully not offend anybody. Well, maybe beavers, but until they make their offense known, the moth should be ok.
Windows Suckage
Dear Windows: when I tell you to automatically connect to a particular wireless system, it's not a wish or request, it's an order. When the system tells me it has no path to the internet, I look at wireless connections and see mine, with the "connect automatically" box checked. But it didn't bother to connect.
Let's add to this, in a recent beta, File Manager started serving ads.
I don't know about you, but I am not a target for my operating system's ads. If you read what you signed on for in Windows, ads were included. I recoiled.
Funny, none of this happens in Mac or linux. You don't even need a Mac or linux account to sign on.
I have no choice, because work uses it, but there are no Windows in my house, making Mrs. lefty a happy woman. We don't do Windows. I don't think you should support this nonsense either.
- Microsoft's second annual Work Trend Index report shows that half of bosses are out of touch with reality. This is right up there with cow farts studies.
- But seriously... who among us doesn't know this? If they understood reality, they wouldn't be your boss. The Peter Principle states "you are promoted to the level of your own incompetence."
Hey, if you've got lots of millions to throw away, Jeffrey Epstein's two islands are for
sale. The islands do not come with underage girls, underage boys, airplanes, open access to Ghislane Maxwell (yes, she is still alive!), and any guarantee of anonymity. Ok, anonymity is still on the table, because when you entertain the kind of clientele Epstein did, you either forget everything or go to jail, committing suicide by shooting yourself, then hiding the gun.
A Ukrainian priest was shot by Russian soldiers at a checkpoint and is being investigated as a suspected war crime.
You've probably sat down and asked yourself why there are Rules of War.
And these rules are agreed upon.
- Yes, you can bomb cities, but you may not shoot a priest.
- It's ok to shoot chemically-equipped rockets but not at a children's hospital.
- Do not get caught throwing people into ovens.
- Go ahead and shoot social media influencers but not orphanages.
I'm way more fun when asleep, apparently. I do Stuff. Stuff I don't even know about. Apparently the other night I was sobbing. Strangely, the dog was too. Poor Mrs. lefty. A while back I was singing Joe Cocker. I'm just wondering why I can't do anything useful in my sleep, like sleep. Or why I can't get paid to sing Joe Cocker songs while awake. I used to get paid to sing and play, but as with any gig like that, it came with band members. Band members who usually made the entire effort excruciatingly painful. Who would insist on practicing three nights per week, then get onstage and make mistakes as if they never practiced the songs. To this day, I don't understand it. Then there was the other band. I hadn't heard from them for a few weeks, so I called one of them. The band had broken up, but they forgot to tell me. Apparently the keyboard player flaked out at random intervals, and this was his time. How I was supposed to know that is beyond me. We played at a swim club a few times. It was summer (no, really?) but it was the absolute dregs of summer, about 92 degrees, with 95% humidity. I move around a lot when I play and noticed the sweating. Then the shortness of breath. I wondered if they had ambulances around - I never passed out onstage before. Fortunately I made it through the 3 hour set (ok, one hour), took off my shoes, and walked right into the pool. I would have played the rest of the day from the pool, but I suspect it would have involved electricity and more ambulances. But it sure was dandy they had a pool there (at the swim club) so I could cool off.
Flying AIDS News
Omicron is trouncing the argument for “natural immunity” to COVID
UK Covid infections climb by a million in a week
- South Africa wants to fight SIM swapping with biometric checks
- Usually this crap doesn't happen in South Africa first. Maybe Australia or the UK. Pretty soon you'll have to scan your eyes to use a phone.... no more burners either. You need to be ever-vigilant or your rights will go right out the window.
Life is not fair.
We mistakenly got that impression somewhere.
Remember this the next time it snows on your parade, the tree installed a hole in the windshield, the glass in your bedroom window decides to test gravity, and your screen door is parked in your neighbor's parking spot. You have a disease that doesn't have a name yet, the sentence for murdering your neighbors has increased by ten years, and your entire wireless network has taken a vacation.
I should probably have that on a t-shirt or five.
In bed, I notice there's no wireless.
I'm learning to just shake my head and go about (aboot in Canada) my business .
The next morning, I'm faced with a weird (not dead) network.
The problem here is that I set everything up, so I'm the only one who can fix it (I think). Why does my phone work but not my laptop? I sure as hell didn't do anything to anything to cause this. After a few hours of screaming (one cannot fix anything to do with computers without screaming), I got it fixed. The wireless told me it didn't have internet. Well duh, neither did my laptop. I think it was a bad cable (that somehow became bad late at night, all by itself).
I stepped out of the office, cables wrapped around my neck, cutting off some necessary blood flow to my brain, tripping on other cables, going face-down on the floor, and announced "IT'S WORKING." It was all for naught, as I was the only one around. So I had to settle for being silently pleased at my great job. Not even the dog was there to wag her tail at the announcement. She always wags her tail, but I was willing to suspend disbelief and claim she was proud of me too. She wags her tail at the groomer's; he says she's the only dog who does.
I guess I could have the standard wireless setup from the cable company, but where's the fun in that?
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