Nasal Imperatives

A phone manufacturer named Nothing has ported Apple IMs to android.

Why, you ask?

Nobody knows, but it was shut down in 24 hours (ok, it was a security issue).

Let's be serious - who wants those stupid bleeps and bloops and ridiculous visuals? Android users are still pissed we have to put up with iDevice 'liked that message' notices. Guess what... I don't care if you liked my text or not. I do not derive my ability to get through another day because you liked my post. Or 12 friends liked it. I'd never do that. Except on my blog.

One of those endless Black Friday promos touted mouse pads.

Mouse pads?

Did Consumer Reports buy a bunch of them and test them? What was the testing criteria? Shape? Smoothness? Reaction from people you steered by them? Funky colors? Use as a tissue?

We've gone nuts.

• Some picky Australian mosquitoes may target frog nostrils for blood
• and here we thought they were merely a delicacy..

Deep space astronauts may be prone to erectile dysfunction, study finds

Well, there goes all the ThermionicEmissions reader astronaut job applications 

Study: The serotine bat uses its super-large penis as an arm when mating

So?  Don't we all? Drives the female bats crazy!  

 I got nothing for Thanksgiving. That's ok, I did want anything.

I also got nothing on Cyber Monday. What a stupid concept. Black Friday starts in October, and there are many of them.. they line up, like North Korean government officials, waiting to be shot. Next year, Black Friday will occur in February. Cyber Monday will start on Sundays. Now there's a Giving Tuesday. I like that one - I'm going to give myself a break from all this crap. The xmas trees have been out since July, but didn't fare too well this year due to climate change.

Now that I think about it, I did want something for Thanksgiving: turkey. I don't know what it is but I have trouble getting turkey on Thanksgiving. While some would consider it rude to demand a host serve a certain dish, mine has this fascination for lamb. To the best of my knowledge, the Pilgrims didn't fsck sheep, so I'm going with turkey. Mind you, the dog appreciated the hell out of the lamb, which came home in the appropriately-named doggie bag. Bless them, there was a turkey this year, but we were terrified of what might happen to it - perhaps a turkey stuffed with lamb (or tomatoes), so we had a few large boxes of Stove Top stuffing in the car, just in case. Another guest was from Colombia and brought a traditional dish that involved poorly-cooked yellow rice and stuff. I hear Colombia was pretty mad and sent something else.

When there is no turkey, Mrs. lefty says she'll make a small one at home, then promptly forgets. I decline to remind her because I like my testicles. Mostly, I really want a vat of vanilla buttercream icing, like Mom used to make.

My dish is always dessert. It's usually something chocolate and very heavy to carry (and eat). This year it was a pumpkin pie (with lamb) and a very heavy peanut butter/chocolate pie.

While I got vanilla and chocolate buttercream icing (and a spoon), Mom used to bring the best cake anyone ever had to events. It was a very heavy chocolate cake, with chocolate buttercream icing. Everybody went nuts over it. There was a little coffee in the icing, which only made it better. Mom played a really insidious joke on the family by telling us the cake recipe was on the chocolate tin. No member of the family could make the cake like she did. Mom literally took the recipe to the grave...I have to admit, she got us good.

It's been 3 months since she departed. Her ashes sat next to the table so she got to celebrate with the family. I suggested her ashes could summer at our house next year. 

We all miss her terribly. The grief sneaks out here and there, triggered by a situation or word. Whenever anybody says 'icing,' I'm inconsolable for hours.

I Smell Nap

Your love is like  

Keith Richards: Arthritis changed my guitar-playing

Clapton has arthritis too. It's a crime.

People pick on Keith, but I aspire to be Keith. No, not the sheer amount of heroin ingested.. I want to make it to my 80s, playing guitar with arguably the most famous rock and roll band ever. If you ever doubt this, look at his face when he plays. He's got a huge smile; what more can anybody want out of life?  Well, he has a smile and more vintage guitars and amps than God.

• Still no Left Handed History Month....

People tell me I complain too much about the rain here, where England called and said it wants its weather back. Well, perhaps people would complain if anybody talked to me. With a fun fall fair this Saturday, Wife let me know it would rain this Saturday, like it has most recent Saturdays. I don't complain for no reason, not that it wouldn't be fun. Why Saturdays? Maybe because rain's just a throw of the dice every day here, where Seattle called and is jealous. Arizona called and laughed hysterically. Texas was laughing so hard, it couldn't pick up the phone to call. There were actually LIS (Laughter Induced Spasms). We are the tropical rainforest of Pennsylvania. It's very sunny and nice today, but that's because the weather knows we have nothing to do after work and is just mocking us.

Just yesterday I saw 2 occurrences of sun. They were swiftly and violently dealt with.

• Something came up the other day and I thought my mom would like it. Then I stopped short, realizing the call would be long distance, incredibly so. Guess I'll have to get used to that....

I just read a short story about defining moments in life. 

I'm trying to remember if I had any...by definition I had to....

1. first kiss and boom-boom, the girl who introduced me
2. graduating from taking apart vacuums to taking apart computers
3. adopting Joe Cocker Spaniel
4. discovering activities involving a dwarf, chandelier, donkey, and chocolate pudding

Send me a comment with a few of yours.

Prada to design Nasa's new Moon suit

JESUS CHRIST - why didn't you TELL US it had to keep air in? 

• Here is your reminder that there is no such thing as hate speech in the US: it's just speech you don't agree with.

Turn the tv off, please.

I would love to. Hmmm... how do we turn the tv off these days. Oh, I got it...  hit the remote. Now.. which remote? Where is it? Ok, I don't have time to excavate - I'll just go to the tv and power it off manually. Oh no, some sort of whipping arm for the armored blender is in front of the button. Obviously I'll have to move it first. I sure hope the power button hasn't moved - last time it took 2 weeks to chase it down: it had moved to the guest bedroom. 

RIP Suzanne Somers (77) - 2nd bout with breast cancer

Pr0n or Mainstream: in which there are 2 movies listed. Your job is to figure out which one is which..

1. Dad Crush
2. Crush Dad

President Giveaway will visit Israel as concerns grow over conflict escalating.

1. Even *I* don't think it's safe for him to go and would rather he do his damage from the White House
2. Oh God, how much is this going to cost us? 

New York Bill Would Require a Criminal Background Check to Buy a 3D Printer

New York is a really silly place. Apparently they feel inadequate in the silly department, to California and want to do something about it. A bill Would Require a Criminal Background Check to Buy a 3D Printer. Remember, this is the same place that outlawed 32oz sodas. Will soda intake be part of the background check? What if you're printed a lot in the past? You forgot to send your mother flowers for Mothers Day? You were late on your taxes? Buddy, you won't be able to buy a regular printer.

Rabies and the Perfect Ring

 Your love is like  that new untreatable strain of gonorrhea

Yes, welcome to the (sloppily arranged, last minute) annual ThermionicEmissions Christmas issue (that started this year).

Apoplectic because nobody's listening to him, Dr Anthony Fauci had a screaming meltdown on national tv (have you ever seen a sign language translator translate a meltdown?), re-stating that no one should travel this holiday. Last year, 90 million people traveled. This year it's down to 88 million, but Fauci feels unheard and unheeded. As a result, all cars can have no more than one person in them, preferably the driver. Cars and trucks will be inspected coming into and leaving the states. If found to have more than 1 occupant, they will be removed from the vehicle, forced to pay a Fauci Tax, and held in Non-Compliant Flying AIDS Transportation camps, until their party returns. Responding to the accusation that these camps are nothing but forced labor, Fauci said "It's not hard labor - they're just helping build my summer homes. The children only do cleaning, no construction work."

In other holiday news, a public transportation bus in Philadelphia saved some cars by intercepting 5 bullets. Nobody was hurt. 

This is the time of year Philly Police dress as Santa and give children presents. Many thought the tradition was stopped last year after Santa and his protection detail was mowed down by automatic weapons fire while riding a bus. Philadelphia will be the first city, after Detroit, to dress their police Santas in Kevlar vests. Police Commissioner Outlaw (that's her name) commented "Ha, yeah, you can't keep those children from getting excited when Santa and automatic weapons are in season."

Delivery marches on, or rather, delivery stops dead and has no idea where it is.

The package that went out 2 weeks ago, from 1 state north, will arrive, I am assured by the US Postal Service. It will be late.  No, you're kidding me. 2weeks+ to go 1 state. That's literally a trip across the country and back (not that we have any idea where it is now).  We don't know where it is, but it will be late - the USPS.

The one halfway across the country, at 2 weeks out, is supposed to arrive yesterday. Supposed to. The USPS is late for being late.

I'm sorry - I'm a little bitchy today because something ate my xmas gifts and it's my time of the day. 

They tell me I have to learn patience. They've been telling me this for many many years, yet they still tell me this. Maybe they need to learn to stop telling me to learn patience.

Let's trace a package:

Dec 8 - label printed

Dec 9 - USPS got its grubby little hands on it

Dec 10-22  - it's in the system

New York to PA

Dec 8 - USPS is touching the box

Dec 9 - at USPS facility in Batman, NY.

Dec 10 - leaving Batman, NY

Dec 11 - at Plant City, FL facility

Dec 12 - somewhere. It will be late, but it's definitely somewhere.

Dec 13-20 - Maui, Hawaii facility. Wouldn't you stay for a while too? Maui Wowie, man!

Dec 21 - Portland, Oregon, telling BLM that antifa dissed their mother

Dec 22 - Intercourse, PA facility. Finally in the right state.

Dec 23 - Wright Patterson Air Force Base, OH. Partying with aliens.

Dec 24 - Blue Ball, PA facility.

Dec 25 - It's Christmas, man. Do you expect us to work on Christmas? Or other days ending in -day?

Dec 26 - Batman, NY. Returned to sender because postman got TO and FROM mixed up.

Dec 27 - Picked up. Again. Note to recipient: it will be late, but at least we know where it is this time.

Dec 28 - South Dakota facility, because if you ever complain about your weather again...

Dec 29 - St Raul, Minnesota, land of 10,000 lakes; each one of which package has been dropped in.

Dec 30 - deliver to 1234 Main St, PA. Postman can't find 1234 because he's on the wrong side of the street, return to sender.

Sign in Post Office:

December delivery schedule

Guaranteed Next Day Delivery: 2-4 days

Guaranteed 2 day delivery: 4-8 days

First Class: 2-30 days

Regular: good luck

Tracking: $25, will not be tracked

Guaranteed Lost: $50, may not be lost

Hey... I smell the beginnings of a brand new conspiracy theory.

The USPS is wrong nearly 100% of the time. Who else is wrong nearly 100% of the time? Weather forecasters. Coincidence? I think not.

Today I identify as  Jewish. HEY - WHAT DID YOU DO TO MY THING....??

Idiot Mayor hath decreed the restrictions will continue until late January.

Thou shalt not dine indoors, whether in a restaurant or your home, excepting that the number of diners in your home does not exceedeth 3. If thou shalt eat outdoors, the number of diners shall not exceed 4 from the same household. Thou shalt not dine outdoors without a permit or within 20' of a waiter.

Thou shalt not celebrate holidays, including in-person or on Skype, lesteth the Guardians of the State breaketh down thy door, and haul thee to the Flying AIDS Detention Center. Unless thou art an illegal alien, in which case thou shalt doeth whatever thou wanteth.

Thou shalt not purchase hoagies, steak sandwiches, dirty soft pretzels, or any other handmade food, lest the Department of SWAT visit and confiscate whatever looketh good, seeing they have not had lunch today.

HEY, HOW'S YER MOM?

For those of you playing along at home, my mother's aide tested positive for the Flying AIDS. The primary doc said only test the old, frail lady if she shows symptoms. But... a pharmacy is offering testing! Make an appointment and go! Yay! I am already more effective than her primary doctor! Many first graders are already more effective than her primary doctor.

Show up at pharmacy, making sure to have Mom along, Shotmaster asks regular or rapid test.

STOP. HALT. CEASE. Deploy Confused Face.

If you want rapid test, you have to cancel today and reschedule for later or tomorrow.

That's nice. Gee, it sure woulda been swell if I knew this.

Go online to reschedule: not a single appointment available for the next few days at any location.

Merry Xmas.

Hey - let's check the city website. They have sites! They require registration! They don't tell you how to register! Then you need an account, but they don't do antibody testing. WTF is antibody testing? Is it rapid or slow? Does she need to lay off the whiskey for 24 hours before the test? The next page has all sorts of local services, such as condoms and pregnant woman mosquito advice. I'm thinking if you used condoms, you wouldn't be needing the mosquito advice (unless mosquitos can bite through condoms - this is just more shit we're expected to know). 

So it's 9am and there is a 2 mile line of old ladies and hypochondriacs (and old lady hypochondriacs). They're signing up, talking about their kids, and complaining that it's taking so long and why aren't they serving sandwiches. It's a self-service test, so now the line is 4 miles (8 miles with social distancing). Most of the old ladies are wearing masks that don't cover their noses, so if you don't have the Flying AIDS when you get there, you'll have it by the time you get home. 

This just goes to show that masks and testing are irrelevant.

 Let's Visit the North Pole

Santa Claus and his old lady - Cheech and Chong

So it's 2020, the Flying AIDS has hit the North Pole, and the elves are getting a little itchy. A particularly ugly elf from Portland Antifa came to visit. After a week, the rest of the elves were talking about unionizing, then tried to burn down the workshop, before issuing their demands

• Santa declared the oppressor, his assets go to the elves
• if they see 1 more candy cane, the building goes up
• the Fat Guy has to pay overtime even when they don't work
• Mrs Claus can no longer visit the production floor: that woman is like Yoko
• more elves of color
• special dorms for LGBTQ* elves
• gambling counselors for the reindeer
• Mrs Claus must confine her pole dancing to the bedroom
• Black Lives Matter wrapping paper on all gifts
• no more Mariah Carey specials from the Pole
• a non-gendered Santa

Meanwhile, Santa got some new electronic devices to watch you so he knows if you've been good or bad. It's hush-hush stuff from the NSA and uses a lot of AI. More cannot be said due to Non-Disclosure Agreements. The sleigh got some new guts, courtesy of the aliens, and runs on batteries from Elon Musk. Santa said all in all, the aliens were ok, but Elon Musk scared him. 

Rudolph was replaced with an off-the-shelf GPS and has spent the last year in therapy, after the 'guiding the commercial airliners to Somalia' incident. Although the drug companies can produce a Flying AIDS vaccine in 10 months, they can't get reindeer antidepressant right after 10 years.

The North Pole City Council smoked a lot of dope and hasn't been dealing with the occupation situation well. There might be a slight delay in Christmas this year, kids. Look on the bright side - they're not using the US Postal Service to deliver the presents.

• Overheard at (illegal) family gathering: Why do I have a planter attached to me?

Let's smile a bit. Please.

Peter Cook and Dudley Moore - a bit of a chat, the Frog and Peach

Groucho Marx - I'm against it

Monty Python - Biggus Dickus, French taunting

some Airplane

In closing, I give you the words of Bob Dylan: Once upon a time you dressed so fine threw the bums a dime in your prime, didn't yewwww? 

No, I never understood Bob Dylan either - I'm just a dumb guitar player.

Captivity -- Day 85 My Boobies Lie Over the Ocean

The humidity went into hiding today.
Nobody missed it.



In November 1963, a popular young president drove into an ambush.
Various unstolen video and pictures show the crowd running toward the grassy knoll after the shooter.

Can you imagine, heaven forbid, if that happened today?
The crowd wouldn't move because the shooting came from the crowd. Antifa would be high fiving each other, half the crowd would cheer, and the limo couldn't get to the hospital because BLM was peacefully laying in the street (reloading). All video from every angle would be on YouTube before the FBI could confiscate a single phone. The newspapers would say the fatal shot came from a killer satellite over Australia, which bounced off Russia first. In spite of YouTube's policy of not glorifying violence, they left the footage up because it was 'uplifting.'



Today's best had to be the little kid asking his mom why that lady's pocketbook said FUCK on it. Because he was looking at Mrs lefty's FUCK keychain. Mrs lefty apologized, the mom would have no apologizing, and they laughed. If the kids ever go back to school, I give him 2 days before suspension.

Speaking of which, the police appeared at the home of an 11 year old boy, in a  virtual classroom. A teacher spotted the child's bb rifle on the wall and called the police. The police asked for Mom's permission to SEARCH the house, then they turned up the bb rifle. Of course there were no charges, because there was nothing illegal. They should have charged the teacher for causing a panic. The child was terrorized.



They let me out today.
After checking with the doctors, Mrs lefty was told ok, but not for too long, and to get me home immediately if I started to look stressed. How could anybody be stressed while picking up a pizza from our favorite place?

Even though it was never a problem before, all of the sudden they required masks.
Uh oh.
Mrs lefty took one look at me and suggested we go home. NOW.
She says I tend to look more homicidal than normal when we go out.

Trying out a few new things the doctors taught me, I figured I'd get into the restaurant. With a mask.

By way of explanation, even though I'm perfectly correct, I don't have to wear a mask in the house, except when Mrs lefty's feeling kinky. So I don't feel like wearing one when occasionally permitted outside.

NO. NO. No. N. No mask.
I don't NEED a mask.
I didn't have to wear one 2 weeks ago - why now?
They're foul. They're wrong. They make my nose sweat. And they stink.

So I got a gold star from Mom, who loved the pizza. Mrs lefty said I was allowed to remain alive (at least til the evening).

The small strip mall with Lowes has NO parking left. Hundreds and hundreds of spots, all full. A large store - all empty. I'm starting to shake, moreso. Breathing deeply, I agree to go to Bob's, where they always have the stuff we're looking for.

Except this time, when Bob's is completely sold out of everything we need. Never mind, we run into someone we haven't seen in years. In the next aisle, we run into someone we haven't seen in months. I wanted to leave before we ran into Mom, who we saw a few hours earlier. All of them came from Lowes, where they couldn't park.



I did my weekly check on visiting my favorite places. Both restaurants still don't deliver to tables, although one does in 3 stores in PA, all on the other side of the state. Idiot Governor thinks the Flying AIDS leaves the state from west to east.

I'm so desperate, I want to visit Guitar Center.
I pulled up their site, where half the screen announced BLACK LIVES MATTER.
Ok, good to see another corporation spouting the required rhetoric.
Currently there is only curb service. I have absolutely no idea how you try out a guitar at the curb, but who am I to question the wisdom.
Their plan for opening was that they would keep everything clean. They won't TUNE the guitars, but they'll clean them.

The customers and staff will wear masks (a grave improvement in looks) and the staff would help the customers at an appropriate distance. YES SIR - THAT'S A STRATOCASTER. IT'S A DAMN FINE GUITAR. WHAT? YES, I HAVE 2 AT HOME. CRANK IT UP! WHAT? I CAN'T TURN THE AMP ON BECAUSE YOU'RE STANDING TOO CLOSE TO IT.

Perhaps I'll wait.

The end of the day was picking up the medicine the doctors gave me.
We got to the pharmacy on time. But they require masks too.
Life is cruel.

A.J. Nipplepunisher

I now wish to be addressed as AJ Nipplepunisher.
It's spelled AJ Nipplepunisher but pronounced "You Sweet Thing".


So I'm on a late conference call, listening intently.
As this was planned, everybody knew not to bother me.
Well, almost everybody.

Five seconds before the first word was spoken, the air conditioner turned on.
The wife announced, loudly, she was going to lay down because her head hurt.
As the conference starts, The Loud Family begins entertaining the neighborhood with its rendition of Power Saw Samba #9, dedicated to my wife's headache.
Then the Russian guy starts talking. His English is flawless (until he tries to speak). I can feel the sound of 50 participants' eyeballs rolling.
But wait... the sound of screeching. Of someone horribly mistreating an animal.
Oh. The dog is outside and wants to come in. It's a shame nobody told me he was outside.
If my coworkers had any idea of the things I do while on conferences, they'd all quit. After sterilizing the phones.
Back to sitting quietly and listening.
The Loud Family, having just finished their rendition of Moby Dick for Explosives and 12 Gauge Shotgun, wasted no time on going into their next song: Blue Danube for Two Lawnmowers. The interplay was spectacular, but we missed out on the stereo separation because we weren't out in the street.

Someone yelled ENCORE and they've been out there tuning their circular saws for 30 minutes.

• CORRECTION: I'm a big man and not afraid to admit my mistake. Last issue featured my wife telling me to heat Marshall's chicken breast before giving it to him. I asked which spices he preferred and should I offer him a nice cabernet with it. I have since been corrected, by my entire family, that one does not drink cabernet with chicken: it would be proper to offer something called Rose-A. Lest you think I ain't got no cultchur.
• UPDATE: the WhatsApp caution that a specially formatted message could destroy your phone was incorrect. The worst it can do is cause you to have to reboot the phone. All reports of the phone exploding and burning down your house were grossly exaggerated.

Good Day: your boss tells you his dad worked for the CIA
Not So Good Day: you say, "Your dad was a spook?" to the black man
Better Day: your boss says yes.

Since I have more traffic from Russia these days, I'll try to translate this for former citizens of the USSR:

Good Day: your boss tells you his dad worked for evil capitalist spy agency, bent on spreading warped ideology to other countries by destabilizing people's government
Not So Good Day: you say, "Your dad was filthy spy?" to the criminally oppressed minority in country where everybody isn't equal
Better Day: your boss says da, silently pointing to the mic in the flowers on his desk

• Part of the ThermionicEmissions Quality Control program is spell-checking my rantings before they go out. This is a little difficult because Google's spellcheck (Blogspot is Google) doesn't have certain unimportant words, like internet, blowjob, tv, McDonalds, or gauge.

I see a lot of press being given to people who insist Artificial Intelligence is going to kill us all. I used to laugh it off, like everyone laughs off most of what I say, but if you think about it, it has already started. I'm talking about that poor lady mowed down in Arizona, while walking her bike across the street. It was a self-driven Uber, with a test driver who happened to be looking down.

Police say the car didn't try to avoid hitting the woman.

See, I told you so.

The official explanation from Uber is that they discovered a bug in their software that separates Stuff floating across the road from Stuff you shouldn't hit. Apparently the car failed to see the woman as something that should not be mowed down. I'll go along with this premise, but this is not a 'bug' - it's programming. They built the sensors to 'see' her but had to program them to figure out if it was ok to mow her down. As it turns out, even I don't mow people down with my car, no matter how much they deserve it. Thus the beginning of Artificial Intelligence killing us all. Our first martyr.

Apparently there's a tradeoff between a car that's jerky because it keeps hitting the brakes and a smooth car, which just might mow down an object it considers harmless. Do you see where this is going? Harmless? Random human?

As a result, a number of states and car companies have stopped testing their software on pedestrians... I mean stopped testing their cars on public streets.

Fast fact: the codename for the car's software is Manson.

Regardless of whether it was horrible programming or the vehicle's decision to reduce the population by one, we come back to the same result: I told you so.

I told you these things were Not Ready for Prime Time. To test them on public streets is to test them on the public. In this case, it's tantamount to murder. There's absolutely nothing wrong with testing them out for years and years. This is a product you don't want running around mowing people down. I guess the lawyers sent opinions and the bean counters counted their liability beans, deciding it was time to set the murdering machines loose upon the public.

I'm not particularly proud of it (I told you so) but I wanted to make the point that maybe I have a point and deserve a little consideration. Usually I told you so is reserved for computer security matters and conspiracy theories that turn out to be quite true. So next time I warn you about something and you ignore it; when it comes true, at least say he told us so.

• There's a critical bug in 7zip, the archiver. Download the latest version. Now.
• There is a bug in PGP, Pretty Good Privacy. A Big Deal was made but it turns out the world will not end. The recommendation was to turn off HTML email (IF you use PGP). Fortunately most, if not all, of my readers won't have to worry about it. Because if they did, they'd lose all of those wonderful backgrounds and emojis (HORROR of HORRORS).

I don't have the heart to summarize this, but this entry has some very important information about credit freezes. It's depressing, demoralizing, and disheartening. And it shows you whose hand is in what, as credit goes.

• I read an opinion in the New York Times, so it must be vetted first, that Trump's choice for CIA head ran a black detention site in Thailand, where people were tortured at the behest of the CIA. Most of the previous words are abhorrent to me.
• Yes, one could argue that she has experience at all levels and toes the company line, but....

Donald Trump's Twitter Account Hacked!

Well, we're not entirely sure, but this morning's tweet was relatively short, full of facts, and contained no Trump-isms. So we think the account was hijacked. When asked what they were doing to protect the president, the Secret Service asked, "What's a tweet?"

• a police car pulls over a vehicle that has just turned into McDonalds...
• UK police would see the car into a spot and confiscate any plastic knives.
• Australian police would allow the car to place an order first, then see it in the parking lot.
• US police would pull the guy out of his car and beat the shit out of him. "Rubber hoses leave no marks"

Weather Modification

As humans, we are only beginning to discover things we can do. For instance, did you know we can control the weather?

We can cause it to rain by washing the car. 

We can also cause a 30 degree drop in temperature by installing window screens.

Who knows what else we'll find as time goes on...

• So we're heading out shortly and I'm checking the weather forecast. WXnation says 57 with an 80% chance of showers. Weather.com says 73 with a 20% chance of rain. Obviously they're both correct because 80% plus 20% equals 100%, right? Right? The forecast on my computer is for showers every day. Normal people would find this suspicious. People around here know you can't go wrong predicting rain and clouds every day.

Word of advice: when your mom asks you to shoot her if she's acting like her mom, don't.





Lowes Blows

My wife needed hardware. Not that kind, smartass.

She has a love/love relationship with Lowes. Or so I think, because she spends a lot of time there. Normally it's the man who visits Valhalla, but I'm weird.

We have this thing she calls a lopper. Women don't always know the names of things, so I helped by referring to it as 'that long red thing for cutting branches you can't reach'.

None of this would be an issue if it weren't for my dad. He's gotten a little 'itchy' since he retired, and insists on coming over to help me. We suspect he's gotten a little tired of Mom, so he insists on coming over to help me. As it turns out, we may be wrong, because he brings her along too. Mom has also gotten a little 'itchy' since Dad retired, and insists on coming over to help the dog. No, really. She does some sort of energy work on him, which seems to help. She can tell where he's hurting. Mom was always tuned into different frequencies... when I was a teen and my friends came over, if one of them did so much as pulled a cigarette out of a pack, Mom would yell, from two floors up, "Is anybody smoking?" She could also tell when someone was pregnant, long before they announced it or looked pregnant. Boy was I shocked when a girlfriend turned out to be preggers (I had no part in it, so to speak).

One of Dad's projects was my tree. The tree sits out there, mocking me and annoying much of the neighborhood. Do I look like I care?  It stays there because in the fall, it drops leaves by the ton on the Crazy Lady's lawn. That's a blessing to me. Anything I can do to 'inadvertently' make her life (more) miserable, I'm doing it. She turns 440 this year and doesn't look a day over 125.

In any case, the tree has been a bit of a problem recently. It started throwing limbs at the ground. I don't mind limb throwing, but only at the Crazy Lady.. it's a waste of a perfectly good projectile. If it didn't grow leaves, I'd think it was dead. One particular branch was getting cozy with a power line, so we called the Tree Guy.  Tree Guy quoted us $600, because anything he does starts at $600 and rises rapidly. The following year it looked like another branch was loose, so we called Tree Guy, who charged us...... wait for it.... $600 to remove it. We're not all that quick, so it took a few years to figure out the guy was taking down the entire tree, but doing it one branch at a time, at $600 per branch. At those rates, you'd think he was a plumber.

Dad decided this was going to be his job. He picked up the lopper and started sawing. He got so busy that it wasn't safe to walk near my house, lest you get pierced by falling bits of tree. He too was taking the tree down by attrition, but he wasn't charging. Two hours later, he asked where the blade was, because it wasn't there, like me. Wife had no idea. Apparently the hardware loosened, jettisoning the blade and itself. Speaking of hardware, my wife is juggling chainsaws, and Dad calls at two hour intervals, wanting to know if she got the hardware yet. Dad's tenacious, if not short.

After telling Dad that she got the hardware, to make him stop calling (it didn't work), she decided it would be a good idea to actually get the hardware, so he wouldn't be without his hobby when he arrived. This is where it gets weird, as if it wasn't weird enough already...

Lowes is Lowes. A huge home-improvement warehouse. Wife asked where she could find the replacement blade: "Over there."  Ok, then... over there she went. Through some managerial mistake, she found the blade. You know what's coming next, right? It didn't have the hardware. So she wandered around, looking for a Helpful Employee. Due to corporate budget cuts, they no longer hire Helpful Employees. Instead, she looked for a Very Busy Helpful-looking Employee.

Did you know it's not against the law to dance naked in any aisle at Lowes? All you do is stand there and look for help. You are now guaranteed that nobody who works there will come down the aisle, and can start the striptease.  After she got done dancing, she found someone, purely by mistake, as he was just about to go on Hiding Duty. He said to go to the hardware aisle and he'd send someone over. This is a phrase they teach employees and sounds extremely helpful and hopeful. In reality, it means "I'm not allowed to say GO AWAY so I'm sending you to an aisle where no one will ever find you".

She waited fifteen minutes at the aisle, when a different employee approached, looking all hardware-like. Three feet down the aisle, he acquired fourteen people, with fifteen questions, preventing him from helping her any time in the next millennium. Wife gave up, nearly decapitating several hangers-on with one throw of the blade.

Off to the register with blade, but without hardware. This cashier came directly from McDonalds. Or maybe a shoe store on a strange planet, here on a student visa, to study how much bad customer service you can throw at customers before they simply leave the store. His name was Taniesha and his short fro featured two very yellow stripes and sparkles simply everywhere. Before Wife could even get out a greeting, Taniesha started regaling her with tales of his day, how nobody would let him get his work done. Does this mean coworkers stopped him from pushing keys on the register or did somebody hide his stockings? He continued the monologue by mentioning he was there at 5am and hadn't even gotten a break and nobody appreciates him.

Now this is where it gets weird:

He says, "Oh, snap." 

Complete with hand gesture.

And that, Your Honor, is when his head just came off and rolled down the aisle.

So now we have a replacement blade, but no one has the heart to tell Dad there's no hardware to secure it. I can hear the phone ringing already.....

I'm not moralizing - make your own decisions

Mom's New Times

My mom is obviously enjoying the hell out of life since she got out of the dementia facility. Most people leave that place under a more terminal form of discharge. I hear there was a little confusion, as they're not used to discharging via the front door.

There is an oft-repeated phrase about weather forecasters: they're the only people who get paid for being wrong all the time. You may not believe this, but there's a close tie-in between weather and parents. We wanted to take them out on a people-watching excursion that involved indoor and outdoor parts, so we needed half decent weather. Earlier in the week, the forecast for Saturday was 80 and sunny.  The weather app on my phone appeared to be off, as it said every day for the next week was 60 and rainy/cloudy/humid. The weather app on my tv wanted to keep the weather a secret and wouldn't advance to Saturday.

So naturally, it rained on Saturday, postponing our trip til Sunday.

At 6am, the weather forecaster on live news said about 80 and sunny. It should be painfully obvious that I would not know this information. It came from the wife, who has the Mother of All Sleep Disorders. When she's not practicing not sleeping, Marshall has trained her to get up whenever he pops up to feed him. This can happen five times per night. He has trained her well. We got the smart cocker.

So naturally, it was positively miserable on Sunday. The forecast did say the clouds and junk were going to burn off, leaving it 80 and sunny. When I checked my phone app, it must've been afraid to be wrong, so it told me it couldn't hit the server. Way to play it, phone app.

It was so miserable outside as to land in the category Philly Miserable. Philly Miserable is its own category of weather, as well as its own category of miserable. The sky is a dark gray, or as we say, not a sun in the sky. It's either raining or so close as to be indistinguishable from rain. I asked if there was any way possible to get a little more humidity and was met with a rousing NO. It was probably close to 105% humidity. Paper wilted and fell over. Asthmatics had trouble breathing. Obese people heeded the Fat Warning and stayed inside with their air conditioners turned up to Siberia. No problem, though... it would burn off.

Off we went, way too early in the morning. I only have two days to sleep late, and they happen to happen on the weekend. Thus I was foiled both days. But I got even by going back to sleep Saturday, til 2pm. When I got up, I was more tired than when I went to bed. Perhaps I should just sleep four hours and be down with it.

A while later, we arrived at our destination, Q-Mart, or the Quakertown Market. It features an outdoor flea market and an indoor... ummmm... huge building with... umm... retail stalls. It was still miserable outside, possibly having created an entire category of misery by itself: static rain. It's 100% humidity and it's not actually raining, but it feels kinda like it. What happens is that the rain freezes in place wherever it is, so you're walking among raindrops but they're not falling from above. I'm sorry, this is the best I can make up while I'm typing this. But it's ok, it's going to burn off and hit 80.

Quakertown Mart is a venue and an experience unto itself. It is only within the last few years that smoking has been stopped indoors. Quakertown is far enough removed from Philadelphia as to be a different place, and takes full advantage of this opportunity. It's an interesting place to people watch, but not for extended periods of time, lest you start to look and act like them. For a while, people looked like mountain men (even the women). This has changed, ever so subtly, to a more modern (for them) bipedal life form, looking more and more like regular humans as the years pass. This version of humanity has a problem with the local water supply, which has turned everyone's hair different colors. So in essence, you get one or two degrees more hick than The City (as they refer to any far off, wondrous place with a population larger than 1,000), with colored hair. And I'm talking grandmas too. It's a good thing the parents didn't drink anything local, lest their hair become full of color too. I can't see my mom with purple streaks, although my dad might look good in blue. He's color blind, so he won't notice.

Very interesting was the housing development that had sprung up next door. I'm having trouble figuring out how they sold more than three of these $500,000 houses, with a huge Mart next door. The answer is obviously that people who live in $500,000 houses love a good schlocky bargain, like the rest of us.

The outside flea market is open whenever people want to rent tables, including mid-winter, during the snow. I have not checked out whether this happens, as I don't drive a snow plow, don't have four wheel drive, and the helicopter's in the shop again. That thing cannot keep a cyclonic blowshaft for more than 1,000 miles to save its own life. So there we were. For whatever reason there weren't as many tables, but we got to lookin' immediately. We refer to it as the greatest collection of schlock (junk) ever assembled for sale, possibly in the country. Today was a new breed of interesting. We found cases of 8track tapes (remember those?). In case you were wondering what you'd ever do with a case of 8track tapes, you could probably get the seller to throw them in with the complete stereo with the 8track player. Tell them what they won, Johnny! YES, YOU'VE WON A BRAND NEW STEREO SYSTEM [audience applauds loudly]. YES, A MAGNAVOX ALL-IN-ONE STEREO SYSTEM WITH EXTERNAL SPEAKERS, A RECORD PLAYER AND AN 8TRACK TAPE PLAYER [audience screams and passes out]. Thanks for watching Match Game 1973!

If you are not up for the more modern 8track, why not pick up a reel-to-reel player? Yes, an ancient home reel-to-reel combination stereo. No, this is not your standalone tape player - this is part of the integrated, up to date, modern stereo (and of the 70's). It matches that huge piece of furniture you call a television, which takes up most of your living room, with a display that was two feet thick. Hey kids - did you know there was a time when you turned on the tv and had to wait a minute or two for the tv to warm up? Yes, it was the Dark Ages.

Uh-oh, that was the 1st table. Better hurry this up.

Further we went, past the records, 40 year old pot holders, non-functional appliances, discount dish soap, cameras manufactured before the 1970's, old silverware, older tools, and fabric pumpkins. Walking further, we came upon a stereo repair shop, with tons of 1970's and later all in one stereos, piled all the way up. The same with computers, also stacked up.

Unable to contain our excitement anymore, we extricated ourselves from the out of doors and moved to the in of doors. The mart proper is a humongous building, divided into rather a lot of stalls. Each stall is occupied by what one would technically call a business. The sheer range of businesses strains the bounds of believability. For instance, you're probably wondering where you can get your sewing machine repaired. And while you're getting your sewing machine repaired, maybe you could get your vacuum repaired too. At the same shop! Or buy some bags for it. Or purchase a refurbished canister vacuum, made long before you were born.

There's a video store. It's actually a really good video store. It's so good that after an hour or two, my wife has to be physically carried out (if I'm not asleep on the bench outside). They have LOTS of movies. The best part was the sign on the outside that said "Buy 1 VHS tape, get 20 free". Wife left with several movies, including Return of the Son of Cousin Three Times Removed Bride of Reanimator 5, Again (This Time It's Just A Sequel).

The parents were full of observing and observances. There were Amish butchers and Asian produce salespeople. Did you know there is a pork steak? A donut that's sliced in half with mounds of cream in the middle? A donut so big, you can slice it like a cake and feed your whole family dessert? Donuts are fun, so we got some. Mom spent several moments looking at the huge variety and driving the staff nuts. The lady asked what she wanted and Mom looked up and said blueberry. Then only problem was there were no blueberry donuts. Perhaps she was shopping at a different donut place.  It took all I had not to order an oregano donut. To get to a dozen required the on-staff dentist to come out and pull some teeth.

After all the bizarrity, we had one stop left. No, not the Gas Station Sushi. The seafood store. In this strange assemblage of retail and not quite city folk is one of the best fish places we've been to. Everything is fresh. Several fishy purchases later and we were in the car, being careful of the small lakes that had appeared in the parking lot, one immediately behind the car, requiring waders to open the trunk.

And as we closed the car doors, the wife looked up and said, "HEY - this isn't 80 and sunny."

Quiet - I'm Trying to Think

Like many people, I sometimes do some online learning. This is a hair more difficult for me, as I have the attention span of a pregnant gnat (on drugs). So I asked my wife for a little quiet, so I could get through it more easily.

For the entire day, I could barely hear my wife, except when she spoke to me. This is almost uncharacteristic of her, as she has the grace of an elephant in a tutu (she will tell you this).

As I started the numbered material, it became Cleaning Time:

Item #1: [the crunch of brown bags opening]

Item #2: [boxes being moved]

Item #3: [stuff falling against wooden furniture]

I'm laughing, as it's not too loud, just slightly annoying.
Wife goes into the other room and I think good - no more noise.

Item #4: [an entire basket of hangers attempts to commit suicide by leaping to the floor].

At this point, I lose it.
IS THIS SOME KIND OF COMEDY ROUTINE? ARE PEOPLE WE CAN'T SEE WATCHING IT? WE MUST BE A HUGE HIT BY NOW. PERHAPS YOU CAN DROP SOME PLATE GLASS DOWN THE STAIRS!

Item #5: [tap tap tap]
WHAT IS IT NOW?
Your parents are coming over. Where do I put the guitars?
I'M SORRY, WAS MY QUIET STUDYING TOO DISRUPTIVE FOR YOU?
But, I just...
DON'T. Please don't.

Item #6: [folding chair falls to ground]
Wife: "Ok, I give up."
Please do.


I have deliberately omitted the part where the elephant led the parade through the living room, as well as the eight lane highway being started out front. If people are watching this, our ratings are through the roof (along with the giraffes).

• It sure is early this morning.
• It looks like it's getting longer.
• The morning meeting that makes me get up an hour early was not attended by the person who set it up
• The muffin I got for breakfast lept onto the floor, making a perfect hole in the powdered creamer spray, which quickly followed it to the floor.
• A pile of Stuff on the back of the couch decided to see if it could fly and failed spectacularly, hitting the seat cushion and bouncing to the floor.
• While filling the dog's water bowl, I spilled most of it down the front of me
• It's 8:25. If things get any better, I'll be on sick leave by 9.

It's a bad time to be someone who's not really fond of Tom Petty

• A woman in South Carolina ordered a yoga mat. When she opened it, she found 20,000 pills valued at $400,000 instead. Meh - yoga mat, $400k in illegal drugs, what's the difference?

Use the Stupid, Luke: a security expert recommends using a black marker to write 'PIN: 5372' on your ATM card. It increases incorrect PIN entries if the card is stolen. You are reminded NOT to use your REAL PIN.

• White House Chief of Staff John Kelly's personal phone has been hacked for over six months. Yes, that's right, six months. He sent the phone to IT for repairs, where the hack was discovered. He claimed not to use the personal phone for business. We have met the enemy and it is US.

Russian spies used Kaspersky Antivirus to swipe NSA exploit code, according to anonymous sources.

Well, that's the headline anyway.. the overly uncautious snoop took the code home and put it on his home computer, which was running Kaspersky Antivirus. It is alleged that Russian hackers used Kaspersky to identify the files and steal them. The claim is from 2015, because the public has no right to know. The NSA won't comment, as a matter of policy.  Because you have no right to know. 

For its part, Kaspersky vigorously denies any of this happened and has offered its source code to government officials. There are no reports of anyone taking Kaspersky up on its offer - just allegations which have not been proven. 

Kaspersky has been banned from government equipment and Best Buy has pulled it from their shelves. Until I see undeniable proof, I'm not inclined to believe this. This is very easy for me to say, as I run linux.

• Continuing the Annoyance Thread, I'm on an early evening business call, on speakerphone. At this exact moment, the tree people show up next door, to cut down a few trees. With loud gas-powered saws.

This week's definition of Mom: the lady who blew off an opportunity to get out and stayed home, making some sort of tuna meat loaf for the sick granddog. Marshall barely got a sniff of it and went face-down in his food bowl. I suppose I shouldn't be surprised - I grew up on her cooking and it was always good, if not great. This from a lady who, two months ago, was in a facility with dementia.

An Unfortunate New Page (section above)

Last year we saw Mom have some really strange moments. What followed was a solid year of trying to get her to doctors. After unbearable strife, she has a diagnosis: dementia. Advanced.

The new page (in the section above, called Dementia) will chronicle some of the experiences surrounding the diagnosis. I suspect this is a combination of journaling for me and an attempt at documenting and possibly assisting others.


From my heart - I hope you never have to deal with this.

Should Have Stayed in Bed

Have you ever gotten that feeling?  Right after you get up, there is a series of Really Stupid Stuff<tm> happening and you say to yourself that you really should turn around and get back into bed?

Yesterday was my turn.  It's a shame I never listen to myself.

It started, as most days do, with the noise from the blasted alarm clock.  If there is anything more hated than phone salesmen, it's alarm clocks.  In my normal morning haze, I observed the wife get up and head to the rest room.  Not completely awake, she didn't shut the bedroom door.

An open or semi-open bedroom door is way too much temptation for the dog.  Marshall was through the portal and down the steps before anyone knew.  After all, if there is an open door, it's the Doorway to Trouble.  I didn't watch it but I assume Marshall flew down the steps and ran at top speed to see if there was any cat food.  This is a safe assumption because cat food is Marshall's number one interest.  He checks in the morning, afternoon, evening and every time he comes in from outside.

My wife was justifiably concerned and signaled so by grunting, laying down and putting her eye cover on.

Finding no cat food (the cat was no doubt looking for it too - he behaves as if nobody ever feeds him), Marshall probably went for second place; the recycling bin, where empty cans of cat food are kept.  He stands up, steals a can, takes it to his spot, then licks it clean.  Sometimes we wonder why there are so many empty cat food cans all over the dining room, especially as we use a recycling bin, not the floor.  It doesn't even matter that we already cleaned the cans - he apparently has to give it the Special Spaniel Seal of Sanitation (SSSS).

I got dressed and let the little monster out into his yard.  When my wife does this, she looks at him sternly and tells him no barking.  She swears up and down that he understands and most of the time he does not bark when he goes out.  I see no such evidence.  When I let him out, he immediately runs around the side, sits at the gate and barks for the neighbor to feed him.  Yes, he trained his neighbor to bring him food on command.

The only problem with this arrangement is that the neighbor isn't always home.  So Marshall will contently sit by his fence and bark every thirty seconds or so.  I sometimes wonder whether he remembers he's supposed to go to the bathroom or not.  Needless to say, when I say no barking, it has no effect whatsoever.

Yesterday was no exception and for some reason, Marshall decided to make the barking constant.  I don't want to be the neighbor with the barky dog, so I had to run out to get him.  Deciding it was best to go with shoes, I sat down on the couch to put them on amidst the annoying bark/squeak of my little monster.

There are some sounds that are iconic.  A whoopee cushion is one.  A fart is another.  One of the most iconic comedy sounds is rrrrrrrrrrrripp.  As all of us know, this signifies, well, something ripping.

Judging by the sudden cold, that would have been the brand new hole in the rear portion of my jeans.

My spine shivered and my eyes rolled back in my head.  I thought that this would be a tremendous sitcom, especially if it weren't happening to me at that moment.  With the sizable hole near my buttocks, I went outside to fetch the barky people trainer.  It was a brave move - screw fashion (or modesty).

Yeah, I should have stayed in bed.

Having temporarily solved the barking issue, we all went back to the bedroom; Marshall for his morning nap and me for a less well-vented pair of jeans.  While the wife was ostensibly sleeping, I swore I heard giggling.


At work I discovered that my task overload had multiplied overnight.  Keeping a cool head about myself, I continued on with the work, when I got an email from my brother.  He wanted to know if I had heard.

Heard about what?

The lady who assaulted her baby.

No, but what about her?

She's Mom's neighbor.

Oh.  Mom knows people, doesn't she?

She was going to buy a baby present.  For that particular baby.

Oh (again).


Mom makes friends quickly.  Apparently her complex is the complex in which to live, if you like occasional drama.  She thinks it was the husband anyway.  I wonder if she interviewed the police or it was the other way around.

We were local celebrities.  Not Mom... our car.  When the news showed up, they panned by our car.  My wife was thrilled.  I was thrilled, too (that there weren't any deer involved with our car).


Back to work, I was busy doing Stuff for a legal case.  It's all hush hush, you know.

Never one to be silent, my phone blared for attention - it was the wife.  All of this baby assaulting had everyone in a spin.  This was not good.  Fortunately she slept it off.

Work Stuff refused to take even a minimal break.  The Stuff I was doing had an inadvertent effect on the network, causing no end of grief and minor calls for blood, which expanded to the entire department.  Nothing was actually wrong - it was just politics.

[Sigh]

I'm not a drinking man but I'm starting to wonder if I should look into it.


Probably should have stayed in bed this morning.  Let this be a lesson to you: listen to the voices - they may have a point.