God Would Be Mad

It's been a rough morning.
According to Wife, it has rained the last fifteen days. By default, she would be more correct than the forecasters.  When it's not raining, the humidity has been in the 90s; it's gross.

Back in the office first thing in the morning, it's 64 degrees with only 93% humidity. My arm hair is sweating. Wife suggests a fan. Like all married men, I have to ask her for wisdom, then I make the mistake of questioning her. But won't that just blow the humidity around?

Ok, fine, it's Fan Time.
There's a window fan, located, strangely enough, near the window.
So I get my climbing gear and lift the fan. Unfortunately the fan is held down by its own power cord.  Grumbling, I yank. POOF - here's the cord! And it's attached to an extension cord that will NOT pull, move, or do much but silently mock me. I have no idea where this cord goes. The humidity is not conducive to following it. And when I say humidity, my eyebrows are wet. Plus there's so much stuff on top of it that if I pull too hard, the entire room will disappear in some sort of Freak of Physics alternative universe, so I'm not tempting fate.

Battered but not beaten, I decide to steal the living room fan, as no one's using it at the moment. Et Voila - overnight, so much stuff has appeared on the fan's base that we'll need a dynamite crew to excavate it.

[sigh] Back to the room.
Well, since neither fan worked, I'll sit here in the humidity box, thinking about how uncomfortable it is... hey.... I'll take the window fan and put it somewhere that isn't a window. Sometimes I outdo myself. Most times myself is outdone by other stuff. And it works!!! No, really! It's so loud that I can't hear anything I'm supposed to be doing! Someone helpfully suggests an air conditioner, because it won't be a problem to install the new 145lb unit, then hand down the remaining ones, so I can put one in my office. I can do that with my eyes closed. I can also juggle chainsaws and deliver eggs to little children in December.

Hmmm.... my stomach is grumbing out Morse code. This would be wonderful if I knew Morse code. I went with hungry, which turned out to be a good guess. I know - I'll make one of my word famous salads that nobody knows about! Lettuce, a dressing or three, and tuna, making sure to pour the juice into a bowl for the dog, who considers it heavenly. The secret ingredient, which I shouldn't mention, is bacon crumbles. Pour, pour, pour, pour, pour, ok - enough. More dressings, please.

I am infatuated with this salad. World class idea. Except for that color.
I am absolutely positive that I put nothing in the salad that's blue-green and fuzzy. As it turns out, I did. Looking in the bacon crumbles bag, I notice the entire contents has that blue-green fuzzy color and texture. The new bag of bacon crumbles. I'm reasonably certain they're not supposed to be that color. And if they are, I'm not eating them. Unfortunately, being crumbles, they crumbled all over the lettuce, hiding in romaine heart ventricles, and falling close to the bottom of the plate. After I threw the entire plate at, but not in, the sink, I realized I didn't have what it takes to make another. It's heart-wrenching. I heated leftovers, walked out of the kitchen, and watched the fork try to commit suicide by jumping off my plate to the carpet. While attempting to hold back the tears, I noticed the air conditioner was on. In the living room, which had no one in it.

What are you gonna do?
I'm through being mad for the rest of the month and I'm NOT going back to CostCo, so it's Time for Ice Cream, Yayyyyyy!!!!!!!

How was your morning?

• ThermionicEmissions is sad to say Rest in Peace to Peter 'Mars' Cowling, best know as Pat Travers' bassist on Boom Boom (Out Go the Lights) and Crash and Burn. Mars had a style and groove that you had to hear to appreciate. He could be busy or not, but the song went on. During this period, Travers had his best band ever, in my opinion. Pat Thrall on guitar, Mars, and Tommy Aldridge (Whitesnake) on drums. Very solid. Highly recommended. There goes another good one, this time from leukemia.
• Pat is a great guitarist, has some hot new stuff, and did some surprising instrumentals, like The Big Event, on which he plays keyboards too.

In the midst of all the crap started by everyone's favorite loudmouth, Roseanne, she admitted a while back to having multiple personality disorder. There are seven of them. Dr lefty says there might be more, but she hasn't discovered them yet. I wonder who else does in Hollywood...  maybe some of the pop stars, who break down completely, then go on a talk show and behave strangely.

Speaking of her crap, she blamed the tweet on Ambien, a sleep aid. I don't know about you, but I've never seen a sleep medicine jump out of the bottle and tweet. For that matter, making someone racist is not listed as a side effect of Ambien. On the other hand, a friend used to hide his keys in the freezer before bed because Ambien caused him to take trips in the middle of the night. His roommate told him all about it.

Lastly, I don't think the tweet was particularly racist unless you're really looking to find it.

Jarrett was the "product of a combination of "Planet of the Apes" and the Muslim Brotherhood."

Agree or not, it's vintage Roseanne. And I'm not a Roseanne fan.

• A Taco Bell manager stabbed his 21 year old employee, allegedly over a woman. Taco Bell Corporate said that they welcome different management styles but don't think this one is working out well.

Out in Denver, two young brothers decided to have a lemonade stand, with all profits donated to charity. Their parents taught them well. Within a short time of opening, the police arrived. The stand was shut down for lack of permit. It had earned $200. Further investigation could not pinpoint any law requiring kids to have permits for lemonade stands. They were not cutting into anybody's business or blocking streets, which is illegal.  Vote libertarian- we don't tolerate this crap.

• Alaska has been overwhelmed with skyrocketing numbers of new cases of gonorrhea. This is the second highest rate, behind Mississippi (do what you want with that). Chlamydia and syphilis are also an issue.  I don't know what all the confusion is about: there's nothing to DO up there but have sex.

In case you don't already know this, your cell phone company is selling your data and there's nothing you can do about it. I'd contact them, file some complaints, and speak to your representative. As much as I hate government interference, this is the only way to get the ancient law brought up to date.

• Remember the big brouhaha over the baker who refused to make the wedding cake for a gay wedding? The Supreme Court just ruled narrowly for the baker.
• I find the baker's stance reprehensible, but on principle, I believe they did the right thing. The government does not belong in the cake business. Or any other business. If you applaud the baker's stance, give him your business. If you find it distasteful, take your dollars elsewhere. Let the market decide. 

Microsoft, everyone's favorite huge, evil corporation, just bought Github for about $7.5 billion. MS was the largest user of the service, which provided a place to store and download open source software, from tiny to huge. As a result, developers are fleeing, some to Gitlab. So MS bought Github - what could possibly go wrong?

Speaking of Faceyspaces, a 'bug' may have made 14 million users' posts public. Facebook asked 14 million users to review posts made between 18 May and 22 May. These events are weekly at this point. Is this enough for you?  I just saw an article about using the Tor browser to access Faceyspaces. Might be worth a try. 

• Hey, how about those Stingray devices that police use to get your phone information? They just showed up around the White House area. The DHS sent a letter and Congressman Ron Wyden is MAD, demanding FCC action.
• It would be ironic if the People were spying on the government. They suspect hackers. Hackers who have somehow managed to get Stingrays up around DC. This could be quite dangerous, plus these devices have no place  in government hands. They clearly violate the 4th Amendment (search and seizure).
• this is not the first time the situation has been addressed, which shows the great speed of the government. I'm surprised - they have no problem using it against us, but aren't generally as tolerant against them.

In fifty years, college professors will study ancient forms of communication with their students. The newest textbook talks about this old means of one-way communication, called The Web. On the Web was everything from drugs, guns, something called Faceyspaces, and a lot of early forms of porn. In fact, half the web was devoted to porn.

In a tiny little corner of the web, they discovered blogs. In a tiny little corner of blogs was something called ThermionicEmissions. This is where the class would focus for the first day or so.

The blog was written in Ancient English. We know most of the words, but the idioms will have to be worked out. The spelling seems to be different than other blogs. There are also words we cannot find in all of our reference material. This leftystrat person might be taking liberties with the language but we cannot ask him and his dog won't tell. The author, leftystrat, is long gone, survived by his dog; ironically, with a cancer diagnosis.

The reason for choosing this difficult blog is not only his curious use of language, but that our advanced Loopyologists have studied the meanings of the words, along with the themes therein. Loopyologists, as you remember, is the current name for psychiatrist, after that field was found to be 100% ineffective and full of random ineffectual weirdos.

As best we can tell, the intent of the blog was to document the author's disdain for most of humanity, especially the less intelligence-gifted. Although we cannot follow the links because the Web no longer exists, our best people have theorized that they go to stories of the day. The final feature was where the author would share what he believed to be his really bad luck, paranormal things that affected him during his days, and his wife. I say wives, but this is particularly perplexing, because he referred to her in the plural. Perhaps this was yet another liberty he took. The one trait that even a first year student can pick up is sarcasm. It was a theme that ran through every entry. He was prolific in it, much moreso than we could ever use it in the present.

As I said, the Loopyologists have had a go at the entries, especially the seemingly paranormal things that just seemed to affect him and nobody else. They have determined that, far from listing things to amuse others, he was actually documenting his descent into madness. [class gasps]

But what about the Sanity Room?

Fifty years ago was long before the invention of the Sanity Room. This poor fellow suffered terribly, but kept his sense of humor and attempted to make others laugh. We are now checking with the Ministry of Sainthood to confer the title of honorary saint upon him.

Has his dog spoken on this?

Yes. He would like something called Cat Food. We are researching his request.

• Hawaii is being overrun with lava from a nasty eruption. It's getting close to highways. Naturally, tourism is up. Dick Cheney is under watch, due to his propensity for throwing virgins into volcanoes. 

I'll admit it - I like Chik Filet.
I don't like that they're closed on Sundays, but that's not my call to make.
Fortunately for us, the day happened to be Monday. This was a relief because as you read, the other day, the mall that was open 10-9 was really open 10-6.  Pushing our luck, we visited another place with hours of 10-9. And everyone agreed on Chik Filet. Order placed, name given, seats taken.

Name called, I get the food and there's one drink too few. As there were only two of us, they were off by exactly one, but never took higher math classes. Both of the ladies were very busy running around and ignoring me. I know my car's invisible; apparently I am too. Or I make the car invisible (I didn't take higher math either). Summoning everything I learned from Harry Potter, I said the magic words, "Anorexia Nervosa" and POOF, the yardstick appeared in my hand. I held it out at such an angle that the employee crashed right into it while ignoring me and talking to the lady ten feet to my left. While this is going on, I'm turning around to where the wife is sitting, with that CAN YOU BELIEVE THIS SHIT look in my eye.

Strangely enough, the lady ten feet to my left told the employee that she was missing some fries. As employee whizzed by, I got out my Opera Voice and told her I was missing a large lemonade too. She asked what size.

After the lady got her chicken testicles or whatever she was missing, Employee went for the cups. I was in luck! She headed straight for the lemonade dispenser. It was heavenly. Then she told me that the lemonade had run out and did I mind if she topped it off with diet lemonade. I doubled Opera Voice and told her NO WAY - that stuff gives you cancer. So she dumped my not-quite-full lemonade into the sink and got another cup, into which she poured only diet lemonade. As she handed it to me, I made the universal sign for no diet soda please, which involved just the slightest pressure of my hand around her neck.

I realize she was at work, and probably busy, but how many of her customers tell her that artificial sweeteners give you cancer? You'd think that would stick in her mind, even for the sheer horror of someone saying it to her. Nope. I started to wonder what else I could say to her but decided not to torture her any more than requiring my order to be correct.

With full understanding, she apologized and went off to get a refill for the Real lemonade. Out she came, with a rather large container of lemonade. With a sticker that said DIET.  I looked around for the source of the joke. I checked myself in the mirror for the word 'diet' on my face or t-shirt. Nothing to be found. So I asked politely if this was DIET lemonade. She thought so too and mumbled something about being so stupid. I smiled and she went back to procure more Real lemonade. What we don't know is that there IS no 'in back' - she went next door to Cow Filet for the lemonade. She loaded up the machine, complete with lemon seeds (probably from a carton labeled 'Real Imitation Lemon Seed-like Substance') and got yet another large cup. I watched very carefully. I thought maybe she ran a hose from diet to Real and was trying to poison me anyway.

She apologized profusely and I wished her a nice day. Lo and bloody well behold, it was Real lemonade. No poison, no one spit in it, and as far as I know, no one picked their nose in it.

Back at the table, Wife was wondering what was going on. She wasn't surprised, as this used to happen 95% of the time. We agreed that the girl did not look that stupid. It might have been a trick though... she might have been blonde and colored her hair brown. That's called artificial intelligence.

Warning: they have an iced lemonade or something similar on their menu. I tried it. Only order it if you're in the mood for something that tastes like a lemon milkshake.

Our table faced Chik Filet, so we got to watch the action. They closed at 6, because the mall closed at nine, and who could possibly want food at 6? Wife asked why. I suggested that maybe God would be mad if they worked after 6 on a Monday.  All the lights were off and the staff was cleaning things. We watched about 20 people come up and ask if they were open. Yes, we always turn the lights off and clean when we're open.



Whilst walking, we came across a music store. I haven't seen one of these in a long time, so we went in. It's a good thing they put 'music store' on the front, because it looked like a $5 store, with some music hidden in the back.

Also in the back was a shelf dedicated to all sorts of turntables. You know.. for playing records. Remember records? Only the turntables were cheap junk, some styled to look like vintage stereos. And next to them were records. I don't know if it was the records, the turntables, or the acid that caused the flashback, but there I was, in my teens, spending all my money on records (as opposed to now, when I spend all my money on the dog's doctors). And now records are the Latest Thing. Everything old is new again. Except the records cost three times what I used to pay. And yes, I realize I bought records just after the paleolithic age, so there would be something of a price difference. They cost more than CDs now. My turntable is still out in the open because some of my favorite stuff never made it to CD. And now we're back to vinyl.

He's Not Writing About Sports Again, Is He?

Only a tiny bit, I promise.
It came to my attention, indirectly, that the Philadelphia Eagles won an important game. If you're from Philly, it's pronounced "Dem Iggles." I say indirectly because that's the only way I'd hear about it. I was in a mall or slaughterhouse somewhere and my phone started making noises, telling me my friends were in a group chat. It got really annoying, as any more than one DING does. They appeared to be commenting on a game. Since it's cold, it was probably Dem Iggles. I could see the straining through the phone. I suggested fiber. Apparently they won. My friends probably had to change their shorts after that. It took me quite a while to wash out the flying bits of animal that were intercepted by my clothes.

The whole thing reminded me of a lovely, happy celebration I saw once. It should be on a billboard that says "Welcome to Philadelphia".

I think she's a cheerleader

I told you it would only be a little bit.

I lied. Here's a little bit more: people are making dog masks and wearing them, in support of Dem Iggles. We are a nation of morons.

• Fortunately for Hawaii, the incoming missile alert was false. Triggered by one mouse click, the entire state went into panic. While one click set it off, there was no Cancel click, so 30+ minutes of panic ensued until somebody figured it out. Is it remotely possible that the alert system is about as mature as Carrot Top? That no one knows where to go? That we need a $*#)ing incoming missile alert? grumble grumble grumble YAH.
• The employee who clicked must be the most hated and horribly embarrassed person in 50 states. He was reassigned because it was a 'mistake'.
• Remember the Good Old Days, when the missile threat was from Russia?
• To give you an idea of how serious Hawaii is about security, they posted a serious looking picture of a serious looking man in front of serious looking computer equipment. It all looked pretty serious.. especially the password on the Post-it note, attached to a screen. It's apparent that we should just surrender now.

It's bloody snowing again. I flash back to winters where we barely saw snow [sigh]. True to form, our 'annoying dusting', which was to show up late tonight, managed to rear its ugly head at least twelve hours in advance. To be fair, the forecasters said eight. So they were damn near correct, especially for them.

But wait!!!!  It will snow tomorrow morning very early.  4-6" forecast, maybe 1-2", depending on day of the week and who you ask, and if their dice are rigged.

As soon as I started grumbling, I remembered a very early adopter of this (alleged) blog, who is completely friggin' buried under snow in Kentucky. Kentucky is prepared for snow only a little more than Hawaii. The drunken lawn tractor races have been postponed for a while, which is a shame, as this is the official sport of Kentucky. The KKK is deliriously happy, as it's white all around. They expect to have a highway cleared. At some point. The locals may be expected to clear streets themselves, which may require chains on their lawn tractors, and worst of all, being sober while running them. The local police have sprung into inaction, triggering heart attacks, because they thought it was raining cocaine. Can you imagine... 8+ inches of cocaine all over the place? People would be so stoned they couldn't move. Which may not be a bad thing for Kentucky.

The Kentucky Tourist Board says Come to Kentucky-it's a great place to rest.
Because you can't go anywhere.

• Indiana, free of snow (temporarily), is the site of yet another ransomware attack. Hancock Health got stung, forcing the entire crew to go back to pencil and paper. Employees under 25 had to go for training, as none could operate a pencil.
• Hats off to Hancock, which got back up shortly after the infection. This is due to good backups. How did they get infected? The most likely culprit was some genius, who was 'forced' to click on a link. Ladies and gentlemen, there is no law that says you must click. Practice safe surfing. Remember the ThermionicEmissions motto: Just Don't Do It.

If you use the Chrome browser, or browsers based on Chrome, you'll want to make sure you're not using these extensions: Change HTTP Request Header, Nyoogle - Custom Logo for Google, Lite Bookmarks, or Stickies - Chrome's Post-it Notes. They were designed to allow Bad People<tm> to send Bad Commands to your browser. Uninstall NOW.

• Perhaps it's my advanced age, but I'm flummoxed at the new trend of kids eating Tide laundry pods. Whatever happened to live frogs? As best I can tell, this stuff is not a part of the Recommended Daily Allowance of food, plus it would appear to be bad for you. If you're going to do it, don't be a sissy and just drink some radiator unclogger or Drano. Besides - everybody knows Tide with Bleach tastes better.
• When I was a teen, we put M-80s in glass soda bottles (remember them?) and ran like hell. Good clean fun - not like these kids today.

Is your computer sluggish? Does it have a bad attitude? Do you wish it was faster? Get yourself a solid state drive (SSD). I use them and can attest to the speed boost. Buy the largest you can afford because data expands - especially porn. You can even buy a small one to put your operating system on, the your data on your existing drive. A larger one will allow you to just duplicate your existing drive - the SSD comes with directions. If the thought terrifies you or you fear reading, ask your local teenager or geek. Everybody knows a geek. They can be paid in money, Dunkin Donuts gift certificates, or sex.

• Today's oxymoron: delicious vegetable lasagna.

The New York Times reports that the Pentagon has suggested countering cyberattacks with a nuclear response. That sounds like a perfectly normal response. I don't want to come off as any kind of expert on cyberattacks or nuclear retaliation, but I was wondering if maybe we could get some really hot cybersecurity people to harden the systems and some really hot hackers to put on the offense. The NSA has demonstrated that it has 'goodies' planted in foreign networks. Ah, now that I think about it, if we can't bill Lockheed for it, the Pentagon doesn't want to hear about it.  But using the nuclear option will certainly assure us that they won't do it again.

• Apropos of nothing, Pornhub saw a 50% increase in traffic from Hawaii in minutes after the false alarm was rescinded. The internet (the world) runs on porn.

Today we ask the question "Is this the golden age of drag?"
Why we ask the question completely escapes me. Stay tuned for other escapeful questions.

• New Jersey is a great place. It's a town where law and order rules the day If you don't believe me, ask the guy in Hackensack, who got a ticket for jaywalking, right after he got hit by a truck. 

Whither Plumbing

Meanwhile, on this Martin Luther King holiday, I have tackled trash, drains, toilets, dishes, and occasionally, the dog.  I'm strangely pleased. Instead of a four page screed on Manual Labor being hispanic, I'm borderline tipsy with glee. Wait, make that joy.. glee is a little too gay for me.

For those of you keeping track of and guiltily enjoying some of my horror, we had a Plumbing Event a short while back. Let's say that we came to appreciate the little things in life, like a glass of water, flushing the toilet, and showering. After paying yet another ridiculous bill, allowing Roto Ranger to buy a new truck, we were allowed to shower again (whether we wanted to or not). New truck aside, I have only good things to say about Roto Ranger. Nice guys, great work, they left it much cleaner than they found it, and they were polite enough not to say anything after they saw Jimmy Hoffa's body, over in the corner.

A coupla days ago, someone flushed a toilet. This is a fairly normal occurrence, which normally gathers no notice. This time, however, the other toilet let out a house-shaking gurgling, as if Satan himself had taken residence in our pipes. As the toilet was still on its mount, I gingerly backed out of the bathroom, content to let the Dark One do whatever dark ones do in plumbing.

Unimpressed by my display of leaving him alone, Satan continued his work, by making the toilet overflow when I flushed it. I swore, when it was all over, I was going to bill him for all the Playboys and Vintage Guitar magazines that got ruined. Later, I was summoned to the torture chamber basement, where it was raining. Now it wasn't raining outside, so I used my Science Brain to deduce that it was only raining inside. This is why I get the Big Bucks. She had just showered, which must've had something to do with the rainfall (I told you I was good). She shouted out directions in the way only she can, which meant I only understood about half of what she said. This served only to annoy her, at which point I started to feel bad for Satan.

The rain seemed to be coming from a large diameter pipe that had the nerve not to be cloud-shaped. Fortunately for us, the water was coming down outside the pipe. Yes, it was still raining, but it wasn't from a burst pipe. In my life, it's always the little things.

Out of nowhere, I wondered if it had something to do with that little lever jigger that you use to keep the water from going down the drain if you want a bath. In a stunning display of bravery and confidence, my wife had removed it because it wouldn't shut all the way. Unfortunately, bravery didn't extend to putting the new one in. Apparently this way My Job, but I didn't know it until just that moment, in the basement rain. There was no transfer paperwork or customary thirty days' notice. The only problem was that I didn't see it come out and had no idea how it worked. I checked with the brand spanking new Master Plumber, who told me all I needed was to put back the screws. This went swimmingly, only causing a few trips up and down steps, and about thirty minutes of screaming at the parts. It still didn't work, which made the Master Plumber give up. A few adjustments later and I fixed it (he said proudly). If I were a real plumber, I would have charged her $550 for it, plus the off hours fee.

A day later, the basement sink got clogged. Satan had been a busy little bee. The Master Plumber got right on it, with her lotions and her potions, designed to blow a hole in the ... ummm... hole.  At that point, the Master Plumber handed things over to the Reluctant Apprentice and promptly retired, screaming about someone had better fix it or we'd have to take out a fourth mortgage to pay the real plumber. She was kind enough to leave me detailed instructions that only left out a few steps here and there. If you ever get bored, or get a clogged sink, pour baking soda on/in it, then some vinegar. It's like a mountain of an explosion that gets down there and cleans and shines your pipes to a mirror finish. One pot of boiling water and two plunges later, we were back in business.

I didn't expect or deserve a parade; it was my damn sink too. I told her maybe just a little kiss on the cheek and a high-pitched "You're my HERO!" Judging by the way she held the chainsaw in her hand, I was unlikely to get much of anything, except for bloody.

HALLELEUJAH, we had achieved pipes! Water flow. Dishes. Toilets flushing.
Just for fun I plunged a toilet, which flushed effortlessly.  The other one... well.. Satan was still in the house, making that horrible noise when the other toilet flushed. This time it sounded like an earthquake, with the toilet about to shoot across the room at any moment. Flying toilets are not in my job description, so I called the Plumbing Police and told them to bring a priest. He did his magic and blessed the place, stopping only long enough to ask if there were any good little children who wanted to be his special altar boys.

In other news, we're thinking of laying off the fiber.


)))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((


Apparently I typed too quickly.

The Demons of Stupidity came back for another exciting round.
After working 2 jobs, I had to go food shopping because I was OUT OF COFFEE. You understand the implications of this.

Let's say never send a man to do a woman's job.

She shops, which is good. She physically couldn't, so I did.
She wrote out a list, assuming I knew what she was talking about and where everything was. See where this is going?

First item, special cheese. I had to call and ask what this was.
Call cell phone: goes right to voicemail. sigh.
Call house phone: all circuits are busy.
WHAT?
All circuits are busy. Since when? It's 2018 - why can't I complete a phone call?
Plugged earphones into phone, so I could listen to music. The cord tied itself around the phone and every other object it could find. This is when one or the other wasn't falling out of an ear. I see people using earphones every day. Do I need a class for special earphone users? Does the valedictorian get his picture taken with President Nixon?

Have you ever seen somebody go completely MENTAL in a supermarket?
It was all I could do not to scream bloody murder. My day apparently wasn't going as well as I hoped. My phone helped by readjusting the volume to 'protect' me. This is almost as welcome as my car DINGING at me repeatedly when I take off my seatbelt. Seatbelt: the thing that holds your dead body in the car after the crash. The thing that gets caught and keeps the door from closing.

I was finally going to get my lemon Snapple.
Oops, I was prematurely optimistic, as I tend to be premature in general. No lemon Snapple except for diet. People who drink Diet Snapple also drink 2% milk. They eat two hoagies and a diet Snapple, because they're worried about their weight.
I think the store just stopped carrying it and is just screwing with their customers, telling them it will be on the shelf tomorrow. I would definitely do that. This is one of the many reasons I don't work in retail. One of the others is that customers who annoyed me (most of them) kept mysteriously developing burns on random parts of their bodies. They never found out how it happened.

How about some chocolate milk from the list?
Good luck finding chocolate milk. There is a wall with four separate doors, full of milk. But no chocolate milk. Oh wait - how about some lactose-free chocolate milk? Ummmmm..... no. Hmmmm.... 2%?  No serious person drinks 2% chocolate milk. Hey, there's another cold section with actual chocolate milk. Of course there is. And it's not chocolate milk, it's some bizarre chocolate drink-like substance, probably with no actual chocolate in it. Meanwhile, the phone is continuing to help me by adjusting the volume of the music, sometimes in the middle of a song. I'm singing out of tune with a song only I can hear in my head. I was very busy shopping, but it had something to do with chopping off heads and general indiscriminate maiming. My eyeballs are spinning like a slot machine. People were fleeing the general vicinity. Little children were crying. And I could find bags of lemons but no actual loose lemons. I'm told it's inappropriate to hurl bags of lemons over your head like some kind of 'special' superhero. Lemon Man - Lemon Man can! Am I digressing? You bet your car's blown fuse that keeps the interior lights from coming on, I'm digressing.

There are certain facts that are helpful to know.
The most relevant one, aside from letting someone ELSE do the shopping, is that you cannot buy real chocolate milk - only 2%. It's apparently been this way for a while. All this time I've been protesting getting screwed by two political parties that aren't different from each other, when I could be protesting something important - who the hell says I can't have real full fat-engorged chocolate milk? Who is 'protecting' me from chocolate milk? 2% milk is for people who think 2% is going to make the tiniest bit of difference in their lives. Like drinking it is going to make you look like a Victoria's Secret model. "Oh, I drink 2%. You can keep your real milk."

At this point, seven people move their carts directly in front of the milk, as if choreographed. There was chocolate milk back there, but I'd have to go through all seven of them, grab the chocolate milk, then pay and run to the car, hoping they wouldn't call the police. The irony here is that the police were down the street, at the convenience store (no, not the Dunkin Donuts).

Once home, I put away some groceries, after it being noted that everything I purchased was wrong, and I look slightly to my left. Where both huge halves of the sink are completely full and backed up from Satan knows where. All over again.

The wife reminded me that murder stubbornly continues to be illegal.

My hard-earned, small, just for me bonus?
It's going to the plumber.
Sometimes they like to torture me by letting me touch the money first. I get actual money and can feel its crispness, smell the fresh glory of the green. If I were a dog, I could smell the drug residue on it, as most money has drug residue on it. I can imagine what I'll do with it. Then the sink backs up, the money leaps out of my pocket, and if I don't pay the home improvement salesmen, they're threatening to send more of them around, especially during dinner.


Epilogue:
The job took my entire bonus, plus another ten percent, for good luck. I saw things that people should never see.

It's a Plane Shame

The TSA is firing its security chief. What does this mean? It means 99 more years of the TSA. They have successfully turned the narrative around from "why do we need the TSA?".

• Our hearts go out to the victims and families of EgyptAir MS804. May they return home soon. Unlike MH370, which still valiantly remains unfound.

Hawaii could become the first state to put gun owners on an FBI register.

And now it starts.

• Apparently Taylor Swift is a Nazi idol.  No, really.

Microsoft is helping to fight against terrorism. Unfortunately, Windows 10 is still being produced.

• Your tax dollars at work: Federal immigration authorities are building a separate unit for transgendered detainees in Alvarado, Texas. 

A man rubbed chili on his girlfriend's tampon to give her 'hot vagina'. 

How could I make this shit up?

• It must be that season again: when there are two bomb threats on airplanes in one day: George Bush Airport and LAX.

I have strenuously avoided political labels, preferring instead to allow behavior to speak for itself. But the DePaul stage-rushing and takeover and the violence outside the Trump rally in Albuquerque really indicts the left. Apparently free speech only exists when it's speech the left agrees with. Anything else justifies shutting down, sometimes with violence. Some of these miscreants threw bottles at police horses. And when the protesters are Black Lives Matter, justice will not be forthcoming. The right has its own problems but violence is not among them.

This is a perfect time to remind everyone that the republican/democrat division is a false one, designed to divide people and distract from larger issues. You're gonna get it either way. Vote second party. Gary Johnson (libertarian) is now polling at 10%. Don't vote for the lesser evil - vote FOR someone.

• In the interests of grammar and truth, I wish to point out to commentators that undocumented visitor is spelled i-l-l-e-g-a-l a-l-i-e-n. No amount of linguistic gymnastics will change it.

It is interesting to note that some world leaders are quite rattled by Donald Trump. You know you're doing a good job when you can piss off world leaders.

• It has been discovered that the US nuclear weapons force uses 1970s era computer systems. Ever hear of 8" floppies? Nuclear weapons, people.