Barbie does Pr0n

Not, really.

But I did an Epay search for Barbie clothing for a present and I found the damnedest things. EPay is known for their hilarious search results.

Among them are these, with not so much as Barbie on them:

• anything pink in color
• pink polka-dot umbrella
• vinyl bike shorts
• Women's Metal Studded Leather Vest Barbie's Bling
• Hipster Reversible Bikini Bottoms in Barbie Pink
• Barbie by Andy Warhol (meaning it also didn't have Barbie on or in it anywhere)
• black and white hair tie with skulls
• a mumu
• and screaming hot bodysuit lingerie

Guess which non-Barbie item I'm ordering with the Barbie items?

And of course, a ton of Barbie crop-tops.

Crop tops are like crack to overweight women.

In summer, they go well with wool hats.

Search for anything and comment with the most ridiculous results.

My last hilarious result was a search for t-shirts, which returned men's underwear... with an..  'elephant trunk' on front, to hold your [external plumbing equipment].  Question: if I search for dildos, will it return Barbie crop tops or just official Barbie dildos?

Theme song for the Flying AIDS governmental response:

 The Beatles singing "We all live in a yellow Chevrolet"

Speaking of which, are those Supply Chain Interruptions over yet? Since the Flying AIDS alert has been taken down by the President, shouldn't the prices come back down? Or does President Giveaway have to bail out the supermarkets too?

• In one of the weirdest moments of my musical life, I turned off a Jeff Beck song. It still hurts.

Like I wrote recently, I finally bought myself a Christmas present. This is unprecedented for me. It was a nose hair trimmer. Yes, that's the only thing I could think of (that wasn't a Custom Shop guitar). In an unrelated coincidence, it won't work today. Like the rest of The lefty Show, I am doomed. It's mostly little stuff that wouldn't bother normal people, but piles up like ash after Mt. Vesuvius went off. It's relentless. Since I used it approximately twice, for 14 seconds, it must be the Energizer battery inside. I love taking things apart. Except nose hair trimmers, cuz you never know where they've been.

‘Am I gay?’-related Google searches soar 1,300 percent in 19 years: analysis

One of my favorite phrases: We are a country of morons.
 

Sometimes it really IS that simple. Or so I figure.

I am a CIS hetero white male. In other words, part of the problem - the PATRIARCHY.

The birds and the bees were explained to me early on and they resonated with reality.
 My heart races when I see Linda Fiorentino. It does nothing when I see Will Smith (both in MIB2). That's pretty much it for me. Men do not register on the Pleasure Scale.

The people asking Google if they're gay might be missing something. Possibly the ability to monitor their own feelings and sexual response. Possibly something north of their neck. Guys: if you want to play with another guy's naughty bits, chances are you're gay (or bi). Does his butt look hot in those pants? Would you rather see him naked than his girlfriend? Are you asking why he has a girlfriend when he could be with you? These are Really Good Signs that you're not entirely, or at all, hetero. If you want him to teach you a lesson, possibly about spanking, you don't have to ask Google. If you feel a desire to wear a sweater tied around your neck, Bing won't help much. If you have 2 pet Yorkies with bows in their ears; don't bother with Duckduckgo.  As they say in England, you're a poof.

I do not discriminate, ladies. The first thing to look for is plaid. If you wear it a lot, look for other signs. Plaid is not a good thing at all, male or female, especially below the waist. Slight exception for winter shirts. Ever feel you really need some Birkenstocks at this moment? Do people call you Butch, even though that's not your name? Do you find Rachel Maddow a style icon? When your female friends look at guys and say OOH, do you say EEW? When your female friends lean over, do you feel an imperative to examine their mammalian protuberances (just to make sure they're properly attached, of course)? Do you tell them their ass looks great in those jeans, then prove it by grabbing on? Are many of your jackets missing sleeves? Do you have to change your panties after 'reading' the Sports Illustrated swimsuit edition? Didja ever feel things would be so much better if you had something like guys do, but it can be put on and taken off at will? When watching pr0n, do you wish the guys could be girls instead? Do your scissors not cut paper?

You tell me... is it really difficult to tell if you might be gay? 

If you have to ask....

Also remember, Google tracks you. The data on the title came out of searches. Your name is likely tied to one of them. They are building quite a profile of you, as is Faceyspaces, Amazon, and our friends in DC.  If you're not Out, you might be, to advertisers who buy info from Google. This is why I say to use duckduckgo.com. They don't track you and are not building a profile of you to send ads to, or sell to their friends. Faceyspaces does, and you gladly help, by putting all your information out there and filling out your profile. Maybe crazy old Uncle lefty has a point...

Antipsychotic meds

Remember not to take antipsychotics if you are allergic to antipsychotics. Antipsychotics can cause drowsiness, dragon breath, the Thorazine Shuffle, and will piss off the voices. Swimming pools and rocks may stop talking to you. You may no longer be Jesus. Do not drink alcohol with antipsychotics, unless you're drinking an awful lot and driving.

Hey, ya know those 'table top air conditioner' cube-like things?

There's a lot of arguing about whether or not it works. I stupidly thought it either worked or it didn't, but I'm just a security guy, not an a/c tech.  A/C techs make more money and don't have to return calls, like plumbers and electricians. I think I figured out the issue: the instructions say it's designed to work in 50% humidity.  That probably explains why, after I turned it on, it laughed at me and spit out its own power cord. The same thing happened to every dehumidifier we tried.

I love it when a concert venue sends me their schedule. As I look at the listings, there is only one word that comes to mind: Who?  well, 2 words: WHO? and You're kidding me - they want to charge me HOW MUCH to see a Billy Joel cover band?

Speaking of The lefty Show, we went out one Saturday. There is something about Saturdays. With normal people there is something wrong with Mondays. With us, it's Saturdays. No one has any idea why, though. On Saturday, it's impossible to get out of the house. It's never a problem any other day, because I never go out any other day. Part of it is that I confuse my body by getting more than 5 hours of sleep. It has no idea what to do with all that sleep, so it simply demands more, thinking that's a pretty hip idea. It's never a hip idea to demand things from me. So my body and I start yelling at each other. This must look bizarre from a safe viewing distance, but it makes perfect sense while I'm in the midst of it. The arguing can take anywhere from a few minutes to hours. Most times the body wins, and I go back to sleep, because 12 hours just isn't enough on a Saturday. If I manage to win the fight, simply getting out of bed and down the steps has me more than ready for a nap. You know. my first nap.

This is but one of the many fun activities occurring on Saturdays. One other is locating Wife. We've been married forever, largely due to our schedules being 180 degrees off: when I work, she sleeps. When I sleep, she doesn't. It's very difficult to argue this way, although we're both pretty talented and can work around it. So even if we're marginally awake and haven't killed each other (yet), we will not get out of the house til around dinner, when we'll explore where to find breakfast. If you get up at 4pm, your first meal is breakfast, not dinner, so don't give me any of your holier than thou crap about eating at proper hours and eating proper food, and why can't you be like your brother; a decent married, hard-working man, with 2 beautiful children his wife is in the process of ruining, who have a permanent spot on a therapist's couch waiting for them? If I want to eat my first meal after 5pm, who are you to judge me?

So if we make it past the front door, it's only after a few hours of deciding where to go, then a few more hours of "I'll be right there." Tonight we decided to visit my old high school haunt, a pizza joint. Since we haven't had any real pizza in over a year, we were happy to go there. Like most people, my high school lasted 4 long years. Fortunately there was a pizza joint next to it, so that's where I spent most of the 4 years. I graduated in the top 10%, which tells you a lot about the public school system. It's always nostalgic to visit the place. Things have really changed, though. The school developed tall fencing with barbed wire around the outside (probably inside too). This might have something to do with me going there and referring to it as Bob's High School and Pharmaceutical Outlet. The whole experience terrified me, so I never went to college. It was a good thing, too, as I accompanied my BFF to register for his classes. We spent HOURS waiting in lines, only to be told to wait in the OTHER line. That was enough to put me off any further education (possibly life itself).

Like most things, memory is a fickle mistress (don't tell them you made that phrase up, dimwit). The pizza was certainly edible, but not quite as edible as I remembered it. At this point, we're so starved for pizza, it was the best we've had in quite a while. The only thing better than good pizza is ice cream, before or after pizza. There is a local chain that makes the most interesting ice cream flavors, called Brusters. Just reading the menu can excite most parts of your body. Being lefty, I figured they'd have 35 flavors, none of which I'd enjoy. Also being lefty, I checked their hours online, fortunately not while driving. This being The lefty Show, they closed in 5 minutes. Had we a small plane, a large plane, or a helicopter, we could have made it, but landing space is at a premium in that hood. I doubt they could have sent it up to us either.

Plan B was a place 5 minutes from ThermionicManor. Off we went. And really off *I* went. With street parking, a paid lot, and several large neighborhood streets, there was not so much as ONE parking spot. This tripped my trigger, which is always a very easy thing to do. I suggested we just go home, as the business could not be bothered to have sufficient parking, never mind handicapped spots. I shall email them about this serious breach of business etiquette. I'm sure there will be someone at the place who will really care what I have to say. They'll be so shocked they won't be able to reply to me. Yeah, that's it.

Normal people can go out and get some fine pizza, then find some delectable ice cream. We're lucky to get past the front door, especially on Saturday.

Stay tuned for another episode of The lefty Show, subtitled Unreasonable Expectations.

I don't wanna say the weather is weird here, but I do all the time.

Friday I needed the space heater in the office. Hours later, the fan. Then I made a crack to Wife that it would be 90 the next day. I was wrong; it was only 87. It's 'spring' and I have used the car a/c 3 times.

The dog, however, is perfectly happy to sit in front of the heater or the fan.