Your love is like dog farts
- Khloe Khardashian had a rare tumor removed from her face. Now you can't see anything above her neck.
Today I identify as Spam. SPAM SPAM SPAM SPAM. Lovely Spam. Wonderful Spam.
Scientists believe existence of party drugs in space points to proof of aliens
No, really.
The problem is that what they're referring to as party drugs is nitrous oxide. I've used nitrous, but only at the dentist's office. It did a great job of calming me down. But let's put that aside for a moment... what would make finding a gas in space prove aliens? Are there any dentists in space? I sure hope they don't find mowers in space - that could easily point to the existence of huge, invisible rhinocerouses. There's an awful lot of vacuum in space. This could lead scientists to argue that the aliens use vacuum tubes or that they like to keep a clean planet. Most of all, there's a lot of dirt out there, mostly orbiting the planet. Maybe we could get some of that space vacuum to help. Obviously the large pink aliens are good with vacuums. What, you've never seen large pink aliens? Try some nitrous oxide.
Philadelphia was named one of the most foul-mouthed cities in America.
Can you fscking imagine the nerve of those shits?
The article I read did not mention the friggin criteria by which those bastards judged the cities.
Saudi women reject stigma to embrace pole dancing
NOW we're getting somewhere, only 20 years behind the US.
You will be surprised to note that not everyone in Saudi Arabia thinks this is a good idea. One prince said to his friend, "I told you this would happen after we allowed them to have drivers licenses. But we better keep an eye on this. Just to make sure there's nothing illegal happening. No other reason. At all."
TICKETMASTER MUST DIE
Once again I attempted a very silly, dangerous, and arduous task: ordering tickets.
Historically, this has never gone well. No part of the process is easy or just works. Each step involves more pain. I have to be tranquilized long before I start, and I'm completely out of tranquilizer. I just want to buy tickets. From when I was little, I bought tickets. The only problem I ever had was not being able to afford good seats. Since it went online, it all went to hell. Judging by the amount of seats already purchased, someone must have passed the strenuous tests required by Ticketmaster, but I can't imagine it.
Ticketmaster used to come out with sniper teams to shoot the ticket scalpers. Now apparently they've learned to cooperate. All the seats left are from 'verified resellers.' And they want $870.00 for the first rows. WHAT IS THIS? It's Jeff Friggin' Beck and Johnny Depp, not Led Zeppelin reforming. I sincerely hope they get stuck with them. Moving back a bit, row P seats are $200 and row Q are $120, depending on whether you want center, right, left, hanging from the rafters, or operating the mixing board. I'm ok with the mixer, but Wife never mixed before. There are a few seats left in Q, so I pick out the row, but Ticketmaster will let us know which two seats. We need to sit close to the aisle, but no problem... Ticketmaster knows best.
Then they want all the credit card info. It takes a while, so Ticketmaster lets me know this is no big deal by flashing a BRIGHT RED popup, telling me to HURRY UP - THE SEATS MIGHT GO WHILE YOU'RE TYPING. Then they want to verify me. The problem is they want to verify me by sending a text to my phone. It's a friggin LANDLINE. I changed it to my cell, and felt verified.
We got to the final charge, which included FORTY SIX DOLLARS in service fees. It's a small wonder artists are getting pissed at Ticketmaster. But wait - there's another few dollars in processing fees. So not only are the artists pissed, but the fans are ready to tear their throats out. Or anybody's throats, for that matter.
I am not happy. Really really not happy. Not happier than normal by a large factor.
You know it's not over yet, right? Of course you do - this is me we're talking about. I'm Captain Weird! I don't have normal problems. I clicked PAY, figuring I was all done. HA! There was an additional verification. I think they just want to see how many people will put up with their crap. The really amusing, and when I say amusing, I mean INFURIATING MURDEROUS, part is that it wants to call my landline, which I removed from the account. There is no way to fix this. Thinking on my feet (I normally think on my pancreas) I ran and grabbed a phone to plug into the landline, because our wireless phone broke. Two complete handsets broke. I was out of my mind. The police were getting calls. I was practicing my Madman Vocabulary at high volume. Naturally this triggered the dog, who started barking at me. EVERY TIME I tried to say something to Wife, the dog barked. After three tries, I completely lost it and went Pete Townshend on the phone, grabbing it by the wire and slamming it repeatedly into the wall. So now there was absolutely no way to verify the purchase over the phone. The good news is that we're saving a hell of a lot of money. The bad news is that we're not seeing Jeff Beck. Wife gets the same results, so it's not just me.
The last time I tried buying tickets at the box office, there was a BOX OFFICE FEE. It's not that I can't afford it, it's the principle. They have done nothing to add value to the ticket, but Ticketmaster and the box office seem to think that simply selling a ticket is worth a ridiculous addon fee.
So I've barely calmed down enough to type this. Although I can type 100wpm, half of them are mistakes. Making mistakes at this moment, without tranquilization, is not a good thing. Fortunately the police recognized my address and knew it was ok to not stop by. There was no glass shattered in any window on the block, so we're ok. I have stopped showing off my vocabulary and thinking of ways to assist Ticketmaster in their quest to put themselves out of business. More or less. The dog and the wife have fled to a different floor, so at least one of them isn't trying to talk over me. Unfortunately this puts quite a damper on dinner.
Is this tale over? What - are you fuggin kidding me? While out today, we bought the new Jeff/Johnny CD. While unpacking our purchases, I discovered the CD is nowhere to be found. It's almost like somebody doesn't want us to see (or hear) Jeff Beck.
The Next Day
Mrs. lefty gives it a try. She uses her phone, with no complicated browser restrictions. As she speaks out loud, I can already feel my blood pressure going up. Ticketmaster takes forever to find the concert. When it comes up, there are a choice of them. Click and POOF - blank page. She asked me to try, even remembering the poor telephone that still lay in pieces, as a reminder to Ticketmaster. I got the same blank page. Ticketmaster is a blank page. And they more than likely own the resellers whose tickets appear on their site. I believe the reseller tickets are somewhat cheaper than the Ticketmaster. I was all excited because there were addons. I want Jeff to sign my guitar. I was close - the addon was parking.
We were thinking of staying home because of the Depp-acle. It will look like a John Mayer concert, with huge signs and fainting fans. Maybe a judge and some lawyers too. At the end of the show, they will declare him not guilty. Poor Jeff. But it IS their album.
We decided to try another way, via the resellers directly. We found seats and only mildly userous prices, then they tacked on a $60 service fee. One place wouldn't even tell you what the fees were until you paid. I believe these were the Ticketmaster-owned resellers, so there was no big surprise. StubHub had seats and charged a reasonable fee, so we went with them.
First I had to transfer them via Ticketmaster. Uh-oh. And shockingly, it failed. Notice what just worked and what just failed. Eventually the Great Satan came around. When I went to print, my printer spat out one ticket, then choked on the second. Troubleshooting is fun because there's only a blinking light telling me something's wrong. No jams. So I turned it off and turned it on again and it printed. Perhaps it likes being cycled. I don't. I have never had so much trouble getting tickets (since the last Ticketmaster buy). Every. Step. Frought. With. Misery.
So I have tickets, times, and directions. Maybe even some barbecue. We gonna see JEFF BECK. In New Jersey, with Johnny Depp, but still. It will be better than the Loud Hailer tour, where the chick shouted into a megaphone.
After one of the recent Amazon warehouse fires, staff declared a strike.
After the strike, Amazon declared a firing. 80 were jettisoned.
Rather than actually doing anything about the warehouses, Amazon is suing the state that criticized warehouse safety. Amazon is, very quietly, bringing in Elon Musk to examine the warehouses' propensity to spontaneously combust, like his cars. They figure if anyone knows about spontaneous combustion, it's Musk. Meanwhile, Amazon has released this statement to its employees: GET BACK TO WORK. You could be number 81.
Speaking of Musk, 160,000 customers are running Tesla's Full Self Driving beta.
The customers are the beta testers. It's like Windows!
An NYU organic chemistry professor has been terminated for tough grading.
UC Berkeley is on strike in sympathy. A press release stated that this was a good first step in marginalizing education. Chemistry can be replaced with something important, like Protesting 101. Are there any Jews at NYU? They'll have to go.
Very little has been made of Kamila's statement that aid for Florida would go to minorities first.
I guess the press just forgot.
Today was another sad day in the ThermonicEmissions household: I had to mow again.
I'm sure the new neighbors appreciated it, but the main point was that I didn't. My only hope is that it will stop growing because it's getting cold. The power assist was very handy up hills (and over small children and squirrels). Then, of course, it's the raking. This is why I need to be very wealthy. Ok?
In other news, the Penny Bowl was scored like this:
DOG 2 Mice 0
DOG 1 Bird 0
Penny did not enjoy the home field advantage. Hopefully this will put an end to local sports.
The dog is napping. I am not. This goes to show the imbalance in the house.
REPARATIONS!
When I got out of bed, it was cold. This is a new and unwanted experience. It took me a while to remember that when I'm cold, it's time to go outside, where it's warm. Then I get yelled at by the neighbors for letting all the cold out.
When I got done mowing, I was hot. Sweating. This is not a normal state for me. I'm surprised Wife recognized me, but I kid; she was still sleeping, and dog was keeping her safe. From what, we do not know... maybe Ticketmaster. Or UC Berkeley.... there are Jews in the family. So after having imbibed some grapefruit soda and Yoo Hoo, I assumed my default stance; sitting. In the formerly cold room, I turned the fan on to cool down. There was some kind of strange liquid falling down my forehead. The dog likes to lick my forehead before we go to bed. Nobody knows why. She doesn't lick Wife's forehead - just mine. Perhaps it's garlic or hot spices... I'm an honorary Italian. And an honorary lesbian. Maybe it's hormones. Maybe it's Single Personality Disorder. It didn't take long to realize I wasn't getting any benefit from the 24" industrial fan, only 15' (30 liters Canadian) away. Being the reluctant troubleshooter I am, I set to work. Mind you, after mowing, I felt I had already set to work, so I set to work, grumbling about already having set to work. It didn't take long to find the culprit: it was the 1974 Camaro in the dining room, which had moved between the fan and me. I just assumed it would stay where it was when it first appeared. It only took three days to become part of the house, therefore invisible. We spent some time trying to decide if it was good or bad that it had decided to move, and if it had achieved sentience (which it obviously had), or some joker moved it while I was out mowing. Dog doesn't have much of a sense of humor, Wife was sleeping. This would indicate a third party.
I moved the fan, because it was easier than moving the Camaro. Once I had it pointed at me, I re-sat to ponder the motion of the car. Sherlock Holmes said that when you remove some of the stuff, what's left is the answer (that may not be a direct quote). So the car achieved sentience and moved itself. How it moved itself vertically is another question entirely, as cars are know for motion strictly in the horizontal plane (unless they're dragsters in a spectacular upending crash, but we don't have the room for that inside, nor the boffo Start lights). It's the day after The Great Mowing and the Camaro is still where it originally blocked the fan, so I'm ok with it; unless it tries to sit on the couch. I will defend the couch with my life. On the other hand, it would neatly disassemble the couch, but we'd have to find another one quickly, and it's not a simple or quick process.
While at the mall this past weekend, I met a kindred soul at the candy store. Man, this place was a trip down memory lane, with all the candy I used to eat as a (littler) kid. We commiserated on how automakers don't make Real Cars<tm> anymore. No bench seats for the dog. No 8 cylinder engines. No families of 9 sitting comfortably in the rear seat (or the trunk). No really sweet ride anymore. No curved lines, making all new cars look like Volkswagen Beetles stretched out. But we did get lots of candy. Warning: anything described as HOT isn't. Except hot cinnamon Jelly Bellies, but they cost more than heroin per pound. A little known fact it that smart economists realize the economy is tied to Jelly Bellies. The more purchased, the better things are. When the hot ones sell well, look out!
So we're left with a sentient 1974 Camaro. While the Corvettes were cooler-looking, the Camaros were more comfortable. If the car has evolved speech, we will have to discuss getting on the road. Unfortunately in this state, anything over 20-25 years requires an antique tag (!) and can only be driven a certain amount of miles per year. If there were libertarians in state office, this wouldn't be a problem. Imagine letting a state tell you what you can and cannot drive. We'd ride illegally, because that's just the way we roll. Outlaws. I'd get a leather vest and some sort of bandana to put on my head (which would also hide the expanding lack of hair). I guess the car feels safe in the dining room, so I have no complaints. People tell me my house feels safe. This is in spite of the way it looks. It was decorated by the most recent tornado to touch ground.
Speaking of tornadoes, we stopped at a far away donut place. We were pleasantly surprised because we're used to Dunkin, which are a bit paltry, to be polite. These donuts can be thrown through windows, they're so dense and filled with good stuff. I ate one yesterday. It was lovely, but way too filling. I made a mental note, on one of those internal yellow sticky pads, which always seem to get lost on the internal desk, to avoid the donuts. HOWEVER, the donuts are still there, calling to me. Intellectually I know if I eat one, it will fill me up too much. But they're calling to me. I feel like Homer Simpson.
Ooh, donut. Yum.
Oh. Heavy. Stomach hurts.
Ooh, donut. Yum.
If you listen closely to this blog, you can hear them calling.
Maybe if I wash them down with coffee, everything will be different.
How could one possibly avoid a donut called Chocolate Thunder?
I'd wind up sitting there, on the couch, hoping the fan wasn't obstructed by automobiles, or anything else.
- High school was hell for me, but not for the reasons you think. It was mainly English classes, where I'd literally horrify the teachers by producing prose such as this. And quoting Zappa lyrics. One teacher had to take mental health leave after that.
- I used to feel like that after Shakespeare. I know exactly one person who understands Shakespeare. I'd look at the book and wonder what language it was in. I passed English because I was a Grammar Nazi, not because I could read the alleged literature. I passed Science befcause I understood it, not because I dissected frogs. I gave the teacher the choice of picking me up off the floor, or letting me pass because I understood science. He took the wise option. I have no idea how I passed gym. Probably because I showed up. For the torture.
The Prince and Princess of Wales (William and Kate) took over a British radio station to host a mental health special.
Because no one knows about the trials and instabilities of the common man like a Prince or Princess.
William: Prince of Wales here.
Caller: Am I on the air?
William: Yes you are. I'm William. How can I help?
Caller: I'm hearing you twice.
William: Turn off your radio, you twat.
Caller: isn't that typical of a royal
William: I'm very sorry. How can we help you?
Caller: I get a lot of headaches when I beat my wife.
William: Kate?
Kate: Don't beat your wife.
Caller: I never thought of that. Thank you, ma'am.
Next Caller: I'm really worried about a financial collapse in the colonies.
William: You should contact that whore, Meghan. She knows all about collapses.
Kate: I'm so sorry, but we must jet off now. We're going to wear silly hats for poor children in Nambia.
William: Zambia.
Kate: Nambia, Zambia, what's the fscking difference?
Host: We'd like to thank the Prince and Princess for taking over the station and their emminent wisdom on the topic of mental health. Please tune in next weekend when King Chuck will be here to talk about the finances of the average and the poor.
A teenaged boy was shot multiple times outside of a San Antonio, Texas, McDonald's. The officer, who has been fired, stated that the boy was eating the burger "in a threatening manner".
The entire Uvalde school police force was jettisoned last week. A good guess was the way they stood there for 70+ minutes while Cruz was inside, shooting away.
I wasn't there and don't know much about police operations, but I wonder if this is something that should be dealt with at the top. The boss was already fired. Can a new boss effectively get the existing force into shape? Or is this something that had to be done for PR? Not to worry, the school is being covered via a different police force.
It's actively being used against treatment-resistent depression. This is a great sign. It's definitely better than ECT (shock therapy). I think we still have very little idea how depression works, but if something works, without turning you green or spitting out your pancreas, it's good. Hopefully it can also be used on people with bipolar disorder, who can't use certain antidepressants (SSRI, for one).
Derrell Brooks ran down many people in Waukausha, Wisconsin, at a parade. 6 died, many more injured. I have a macabre question that has not been asked: if he was on a mowing spree, why didn't he drive down the center of the street, where he could have killed so many more? He drove off to the side. Even one murder is too many, but I'd like the question answered, Your Honor. Brooks is representing himself, which is never a smart idea.
Further on Kanye's antisemitic rants: I'm going to take my normal stand against "Hate Speech." There IS no hate speech, only speech, whether you like it or not. Instead of being banned, it needs to be kept in the light, where it can be seen and monitored. Howard Stern had the KKK Guy on for a while, and he served to bring the organization into the light for all of Howard's listeners. Howard made him explain his stances. The guy was particularly upset about Robin, who is black. Like most humans who are in frequent contact, he did ok with her. So let Kanye rant - it's good where we can see it. We can then act accordingly. Plus it might keep the ADL quiet, if that's possible.
Last time I watched a police-type show, they were looking for a lady, so they checked for her car. They found the car, via satellite radio. Read it again: satellite radio. They were able to track the signal and locate her car. It's also possible via On-Star-like services. And your phone. Keep that in mind. Not that you're doin ganything wrong, just that you're supposed to be free of tracking.
Food Shopping antics
Lunchmeat went up to $18/lb, but that was IF you could find it. They order and the supplier 'forgets' to show up or drops off way less. The trashcan looked nice, but not $75 nice. WTF is going on here? It's like we're going backwards, only with higher prices. $11 tub of butter substitute. A case of Coke was $7.50 - I mainline this stuff - might as well go back to crack. Just keeping you in the loop.
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