What is at the top of Trump?

Poor sleeping pattern could be a contributing factor to cancer, a test on mice suggests.

I am not exactly a scientist, medical expert or even a mouse enthusiast but I must take exception to this travesty of research. What the study shows is that weird sleeping can cause cancer in MICE.

* In most cases, mice are not humans, although some humans are known to be mice.

* The study cannot prove a causal relationship because you cannot accurately simluate real world sleep patterns in mice. The study did not account for the wife leaping in and out of bed, the wife waking you up because she's up anyway, the dog jumping on your chest and circling before going to sleep, or the mouse's neighbor running the $@!ing lawnmower at seven in the morning.

* the mouse does not suffer sleep deprivation over how he's going to pay for the kids' iPhones.

Conversely:

* the human doesn't have to worry about cats (or the dog, if he sees the cat chasing it).

* the human is not likely to be used for medical experiments (unless the CIA is involved).

* The human will not fit through the hole in the molding (or the wainscotting)

* Most humans can NOT make it through a maze

• Peru is about to make 'first contact' with an isolated Amazon tribe.
• 30 days after first contact, the Mashco Piro Indians will send back some questions:

1. We're very impressed by television. May we return the favor by leading an attack on the tribe Kardashian?
2. Why do all of your things have 'i' in front of them?
3. 'Hummer' mean something else here.
4. What is at the top of 'Trump'?
5. May we trade hunting skills for this 'boob job' thing?
6. What medicine for VD?
7. Why do you sit on 'couch' when you can sit on log?
8. Why do you have such small... gen... genit... penises (except for the dark ones)?
9. 'Glock' less accurate than bow and arrow.
10. No, Tonto not related.

Who says militias are bad or crazy?
After the tragedy in Chattanooga, militiamen, veterans and citizens are standing outside armed forces recruiting centers, guarding them with their own guns. For some reason known only to the Flying Spaghetti Monster, recruiters are not allowed to carry weapons, so these folks are acting as unpaid guards, on their own time and at their own expense.  Some of the neighbors are nervous but more importantly, the recruiters are safe and they're standing up for their own. 

• Scientist warns the world to 'think twice before replying to alien signals from outer space'  The only problem is that any civilization that would be capable of sending signals here would already know about us. Again, a smokescreen.

In case you missed it (or are in denial), an all-transgender modeling agency is opening in LA. More dick for the click?

• A brain-eating amoeba has been found in Louisiana water.  They should also be checking Kentucky and D.C.

BEST headline of the month/year:  Wyoming man found with 30 eyeballs stuffed up his anus. Probably because the silverware no longer fits.

• A Philly treat for many years is water ice. For those of you in far-away climes, it's somewhat similar to a Slurpee/Icee but a little less liquidy and eaten with a spoon. Marshall aims to be the first spaniel with an endorsement deal from Rita's Water Ice.

Got Water Ice?

Speaking of Trump, we should all know by now that he's running for president. This definitely complicates the decision as to which presidential candidate gets the ThermionicEmissions endorsement. Of course my vote always goes to the libertarian candidate but at this point we're not sure who that is. This may be a political statement on the election. Trump himself is a real spoiler - if he gets in, there will be no shortage of material and General Amusement, of the variety promised but not delivered by Joe Biden. Then there's the perennial favorite, Vermin Supreme, because how can you argue with a presidential candidate who wears a boot on his head? Stay tuned for details.

• The FBI is sure getting good at tracking down suspects: check this story out. Never mind the kidnapping - look at how the FBI managed to get the info. This is creepy (and the NSA is jealous).

CHILD ABUSE WEEKLY

AS readers might have noticed, I take a dim view on child abuse, noting that it goes all the way to the top. Here are a few stories from this week: Epidemic of US children sold for sex and FBI says child abuse at almost epidemic levels. Police, citizens, Members of Parliament, Congresscritters... all the way to the top.  In fact, Met Police is investigating the late former prime minister Edward Heath (posthumously) into claims of historical child sex abuse by establishment figures.

• There are some articles that leap right out at me and say ThermionicEmissions!  Dozens of bra-wearing men and women have protested in Hong Kong after a woman was jailed for assaulting a senior policeman with her breast.  A Chinese woman accused an officer of touching her breast. The court ruled that she pushed her breast into him so she could charge him. 
• I'm starting to develop a fantasy. A fine fantasy of fanatical frenzied females, all trying to assault me. Life is good.

Service dog dials 911 during fire, saves blind owner. Yolanda the yellow lab called the fire department. Dogs truly are better than humans. Yolanda also called 911 last year when her owner fell and lost consciousness.

• NFL running back comes out of the closet: No, he's not gay. No, he's not changing his gender. No, he's not a pedophile....even worse - he's an atheist!

Close it on Some Musical Magic!

Ever heard of Steve Vai?  You might have caught him as David Lee Roth's early solo guitarist or in Frank Zappa's band ("my little Italian Virtuoso", Stevie's Spanking). Steve is one of those rare Guitar Geniuses. Anyone who can transcribe for Zappa and play that stuff is among the musical elite.  Steve is a delightfully wacky musician who does things his own way.

Another of those tunes guaranteed to make the hair on the back of your neck stand at attention is For the Love of God.  Notice the way Steve owns the stage, the music, and his guitar. The guitar faces are priceless and completely appropriate. The studio version of this song, not far away from this recorded version, was recorded after a fast of a number of days.

We are also treated to a bit of pre and post-tune virtuosity, ala Steve's Noises. Steve is ably accompanied by the even more wacky Mike Keneally (Beer for Dolphins, Frank Zappa) on guitar and keyboards.

Does Mr. Vai look familiar?  You might have seen him as the devil in Crossroads, playing against Ralph Macchio in the Soul Selling Scene.  Or the triple-necked guitarist in David Lee Roth's 'Just Like Paradise'.

Enjoy his take on Jimi's Little Wing. One of Steve's more amusing tracks is The Audience is Listening, with one of his school teachers on announcements.

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.