The AntiSports Speaks

The BLM-ites have been very busy lately, knocking down statues, whether by demand or by themselves. Some cities have taken to removing statues themselves, in the middle of the night, to avoid violence or cow mutilation.

The statues themselves are very angry and meeting this moment at an undisclosed location, under a mountain, in Colorado, where the president goes in the event of a threat. The statues are in the process of getting together their demands, but at this point, they wish to throw stones back at unruly mobs and to spend some time traveling in Europe.

Meanwhile, next on the hitlist is Mt Rushmore. BLM demands all of the existing presidents be removed and replaced with Kanye, Beyonce, Chairman Mao, and Tupac. They say the existing presidents probably thought about slavery once and  they also represent the White Patriarchy, so they must go. Today.



A 30-something man has died from the Flying AIDS after attending a Flying AIDS party.  I keep thinking there was some way he could have avoided this.



I was let loose the other day. My keepers thought it would be good for me to get outside and offend people in-person, as opposed to online.  I took the opportunity, in spite of having to get off the couch to do it. I had only had 2 or 3 naps, so I wasn't in great shape. We were off on a mission of peace, to see Mom and take her out for a milkshake or something, as it was 97. Since it was 97, Mom had taken most of her heavy gear off and was down to a parka (Mom is always cold). Her latest fashion accessory is this... thing... it looks like something out of the wild west, and functions like a mask. Or at least that's what we think it does... Mom's known to do Odd Stuff from time to time.

It was a real treat. We were treated to pouring rain, 50' lines, no chocolate ice cream, the dog and I protesting via barks and lack of masks, and Mrs lefty's ice cream melting down her hand so badly it looked like she just thrust her hand in the ice cream and was turning very white.

And this is why they let me outside today?


A group of 83 millionaires, including a Disney and Jerry from Ben&Jerry's, are calling for higher taxes on the rich to cover the Flying AIDS. In other news, 83 millionaires have been found dead. 83 billionaires are persons of interest



I was just asked to move the thingy thing in the bathroom.
Is it just me?



There is yet another reality contest show, this time around construction. These bright lights have to build something by a certain time.
Construction is extremely important, except when these people do it.
It's only a matter of time til the shows feature getting on the subway, walking to the corner, calling an Uber, and who can get to Faceyspaces first. Let's look on the positive side: none of these shows involve Kardashians. The Kardashians will lay anything but bricks. Or caucasians.



The New York Times says the Flying AIDS lingers in the air.
The WHO is skeptical of this.
Pete Townshend has no opinion.
The Washington Post says it remains in the air but ascends as a 90 degree angle, then bounces off buildings.
Pornhub is skeptical, but always had a thing for masks, mainly of a rubber variety.
The president has wished it all away.
The vice president has prayed it all away.
Amazon will happily sell it to you, along with masks and those little plastic things that hold your shelves up.
BLM says it's racist.


The Wall Street Journal says 'Quit Chrome. Safari and Edge are just better browsers.' Editors say the tech columnist is very sorry and will never again post without his meds.



Pro Tip: if your wife, or any woman, shows you a picture of a newborn baby, the correct response is not "Oh look, a baby." I know this now.

Cutting out these sorts of phrases is a new goal of marriage mine. In order to cut them out, I have to know I'm using them. This is very close to a filter, of which I have none.  Tonight I listened to the stuff I say and managed to avoid phrases like this. Some of you will say 'then you didn't say anything the whole night', but I managed anyway. The point here is that holding this stuff back was painful. It hurt, like watching tv in the bathtub.  I need to find an easier goal and work my way up to being less normal nasty.

What do you say to someone you spent literally every day with for 13 years?
We miss you, Marshall.
Gone 2 years.

Sometimes You're Just a Fish on a Telephone Pole

Twas the day of Christmas, and all through the house
Only one of us was stirring, with no computer mouse.

One of the many wonderful things about living together is the traditions you develop. Over the many years, we've developed many traditions. So there are a lot of traditions but no standards.

I just got done 'putting up' the tree.
It's a good 7' tall.
How did I get it in the house, you ask?
I dragged it, in pieces, from my lovely neighbor, who had a few too many. I don't know if she has a religious issue and likes to keep a lot of them, just in case, or she has a mental issue and likes to keep a lot of them. just in case. This one came in a box, which is a great way to transport your tree home.

I put it together, excited because the lights were already there and wired. My main experience was one of dust. In the basement, from where I carried it. Somebody didn't close the box and it got kinda dusty.

When I say it stood 7' tall, I mean when properly assembled and without the top section leaning over at a 30 degree angle.  At least it had lights. Well, it would have lights, as soon as I could find an outlet. I knew there were lights plugged in last time, so there had to be an outlet.. I just couldn't find it. I can't find an elephant in an empty parking lot. I located one outlet, but the active sparking  dissuaded me.

When I say it had lights, I mean it had lights on the top half. The ones on the bottom half didn't work. I looked around for loose wiring, fearing one bad bulb, which took the entire bottom string out. I found one plug sitting there, but nothing to plug into it. It's 2019, I thought.. plug 2 females together! Better not. I found the male half, plugged it in, and was graced by absolutely nothing. No lights. It's probably mad at me for hate in not letting 2 female plugs go together.

So we have a fake tree, with lights on the top half, no colored lights, no blinkies, and the top bit is leaning left at a 30 degree angle. It's like a Charlie Brown Christmas, but with a larger tree. And fuck it - it's ours!

Unfortunately it's blocking 1 of the 2 windows that let light into the house. There are no others. The house was built in a quantum field, across several multiverses, so when it's rotated 90 degrees, then 180 degrees, sun never shines through the windows. They could have saved thousands by not putting windows in.

There are huge, decoration-like thingies in the window, which were not there on the Eve. Some are red/green, some are blue/white. Blue is generally for Hanukkah, which, I believe, is not celebrated in the house. But very little surprises me.

So there's a very strange and malformed tree on Christmas day, blocking the window; plus decorations hung late Christmas Eve, while I was entertaining in bed without an audience, via my Mattress Dancing, laughing, and random screaming.

You have no idea how happy I am. This is a 102% improvement over last year, when the tree continued its failure to come out of the box and the ornaments weren't even a thought (except buying new ones to replace the long-smashed ones). The year before was the year the kit tree arrived, so we didn't remove it from its box out of respect. The decorations were thought about, but remained true to the tree and never left their boxes (including the new ones, which were piled near where the tree usually goes, where no one would find them).

There would be presents, but I don't think anybody got around to buying them. The presents are for the (internal) kids, who love Christmas, the Leaning Tree of Pennsylvania, and decorations that materialize overnight. Maybe Santa brought them. Maybe Satan - who knows. I know there must be presents, as there are a ton of unopened brown shipping boxes all over the place (Fedex has a truck parked out front from November til Christmas). Since I do the wrapping, maybe most of the gifts are in the basement from the last few years. Unfortunately we sent someone down there last year to search for the past few years' gifts and never actually heard back from him... I'm feeling a little sick... perhaps I need a break.

The great thing about dissociation is what we call Christmas all year around. You can literally wrap the same presents over and over, and they're new each time!

I specifically ask that no one get me anything. Although it sounds a bit Bah Humbug-y, it's better this way. I'm a little off the beaten path (really?), so people don't know what to get me. This results in the most bizarre gifts... cologne. Sports Stuff. Wrong size t-shirts (from my mom). Things made from apples (I'm allergic). A set of postcards picturing outhouses (ok, that was cool). Beer (don't drink). Surgical tools (I pass out at the sight of blood). Barbie car seat covers. Underwear (women's... hey). A welding kit (used). Gasoline purity tester (they want me to be safe before I drink). And a ten foot pole, for trying to wake Wife up before the late afternoon. My Christmas stocking came with a garter belt (I stopped asking years ago). The dog got a ton of stuff, including many valuable stuffed animals belonging to the wife.

The children were all snug in their beds, because it was 2:00.
2:00pm.
I'm awake because we're supposed to go to the family party. She's asleep because it's her family. I spend most of my time there hiding from loud children. And loud adults. The nicest present I ever got was my own panic room there, that I can sit in and not be bothered, while still getting credit for showing up. I say hello to most family members first - do you think I'm rude? This is what happens when you put 73 people in a house designed for 5, and put out 4 chairs.

There sure are a lot of dogs there, which means I have someone to talk to, but Penny, and before her, Marshall, couldn't go because they don't like dogs.  Just a chip off the old block... I don't like some of their owners. Besides... when I don't hide, after a while, Wife signals that I'm doing that thing she doesn't like... what was it... oh yeah - talking.  It's becoming more tolerable, though. The adults talk and everyone under 30 stares at their cell phones. Some of them are texting each other. These will be the first people to get the Brain Chip.

My family is doing something too. I'll be damned if I know what it is. They stopped inviting me after the sheep incident (don't ask). I only get invited when I'm standing there and someone else says the party will be a lot of fun. They turn to me and say, "Oh. We're having a party. Last minute. Open house. You can come. Leave the dog at home - you have no idea what she does to the deer."

I'm expecting a new guitar.
I won't get one, but I'm expecting it.

In his mercy, my boss gave me time off. I got half of Christmas day this year!
What have I done with it?
Brought up the xmas tree, mowing down everything in its path. Waited for everyone to get up. And typed this shit.
If this ain't an existential crisis in the making, I don't know what is.

In answer to my Existential Agita, it came to me yesterday... my place in all this.
I work to make sure everyone else gets presents.
Like some sort of warped Santa Claus.
One that's not particularly jolly.


UPDATE:
Mrs lefty has a headache so bad, Mussolini named a child after it.
Ain't goin' nowhere.

UPDATE to the UPDATE:
In violation of my strict No Gift Policy<tm>, a very nice child got me a set of wireless ear podlike thingies. The thing that concerns me is that they came out as Apple products, so my android phone may reject them.





Credit where it's due: last summer Mother Nature did a tremendous job on sunshine - we had lots of it. Now that we're back in Cold Season, we're back to 6 days of rain per week. People are jumping off buildings.

For some strange reason, it's sunny out today.  Then cloudy. Then sunny again. I walked to the window only to discover it was sunny, but it was also snowing. I hate it here.  I have no problem with Arizona's 100+ degrees with little humidity and no clouds.




The army put together a group to study Remote Viewing, as documented in the movie "Men Who Stare at Goats." In short, remote viewing allows a person to 'see' something that's somewhere else, from their chair. I hear you can also view things from times other than current.  The only problem is that you are not viewing things like a picture; you're getting impressions of features. Richard Dolan, ufo researcher and author, interviews Tracey Dolan (his wife) on remote viewing (she's a viewer). This is not a conspiracy theory - it's documented fact, and most people have the ability to do it, with a little training.

• Why are there now emojis on email subject lines? This must be stopped.

Dear lefty:

• I heard you are lactose intolerant.
• I am generally intolerant; this includes lactose.

The FBI has gone far out of character lately, first warning people over the evils of smart tv privacy leakage, and now the risks behind using free wifi while traveling. The FBI is perfectly correct on both issues, which should also take you aback. But we need to know why, all of the sudden, this is being let loose. I think that they're jealous of the other organizations who steal your data. They have an intrinsic belief that all of your data is theirs and others getting it first disturbs them to their core. Old J. Edgar is spinning in his grave (in a nice, taffeta ball gown).

• Finland offered its citizens a free crash course in AI to educate them. They're translating it and will put it online for everyone else shortly.
• A government educating its people. 
• WAR ON FINLAND! We cannot have this sort of thing happening in the world.
• Somewhere in America's northeast, Bernie got his first hardon in 25 years and has no idea why.

If you need a quick laugh, and who doesn't, read this little ditty on Faceyspaces, lawmakers, location tracking, and 'certain security functions.' The sheer creativity, legalese, and attempts to appear innocently stupid are breathtaking.

Today I identify as  a black female Jewish lesbian for Christ, atheist division

"Forget about the Senior Prom and go to the library and educate yourself if you've got any guts." - Frank Zappa

Sitting around, shoveling popcorn into my mouth, I was shocked to discover popcorn on the floor. I missed my mouth. I didn't think that was physically possible.

• Wondering about Gatwick Airport's drone issue? Listen to the police commander's version.

It's my unfortunate end-of-year responsibility to bring you the worst passwords list. Hint: 123456 is still #1.  Are you guilty? How much shaming will it take to get you to use a more secure password? It takes nothing extra but provides more security.

• Remember the PinePhone - the $150 phone that will run open source operating systems and not steal your data? The very early review is in.
• Reminder: this is incredibly early in the process. Only suitable for developers at present. Actually using it as a phone/text isn't ready for prime time. When it is, the phone will be formidable. I'll have at least one. Goodbye, Goog!

Heroes of the Stupid

Rise of Skywalker falls short of predecessors. Ranks as the lowest opening of the most recent three films in the saga.  Gee, ya think 9457 sequels has run its course? It's Schadenfreude Day, folks!



SJW Sickness

A researcher who lost her job at a think tank after tweeting that transgender women cannot change their biological sex has lost a test case because her opinions were deemed to be “absolutist”.  The judge said her social media posts/opinion were 'not worthy of respect in democratic society'.

This is a perfect example of the slippery slope of speech in England. This lady's views, posted on social media - not at her job, offended people, therefore they are not worthy of respect and not rehiring her was just fine and legal. Her views had less than zero merit. You don't have to agree or disagree with her to have concern over where this is going.


ACLU calls for tampons in men's rooms in order to achieve 'menstrual equality'
The date on the article was not April 1 and Fox isn't known for this sort of gag.

On the other hand, Menstrual Equality is a bitchin' name for a band.

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.