Since my furry child started seeing the acupuncturist, he's been eating well. In fact, he's been eating better than his parents. We were told to feed him fresh food. As a result, Wife cooks chicken breasts (it's always about the breast with me) and puts them in the fridge for the week.
To say cockers like chicken is like saying cockers like beef. And cat food.
I sliced it up, went to take the plate to his table, and my wife looked at me in abject horror: "You're not going to heat it up?"
Uh-oh.
Ummmm.. no.
You have to heat it up for him.
Oh. I see (I said, not seeing). Perhaps we can ask him which he prefers.
No, you have to heat it up.
Shall I take a nice cabernet with it? Perhaps a salad?
Don't let him near the liquor again. Remember what happened last time.
Dessert? Do you serve dessert warm or cold?
I'll do it.
Perhaps this is why anybody who knows me and meets my wife tells her how sorry they are for her.
WhatsApp co-founder Jan Koum is leaving because of long-standing differences of opinion with other Faceyspaces executives. WhatsApp is owned by Faceyspaces. Apparently they're collecting customer data and weakening encryption to give advertisers a wider base to target. Irony: two days ago I told my family not to use this app. Zuckerberg is evil and wanted to link WhatsApp phone numbers with Faceyspaces data. This is a perfect example of how different entities with different bits of data can figure out exactly who you are and what you do. See what Signal can do for you.
- Twitter, sometimes inaffectionally referred to as Twatter by its users, sold data access to a researched linked with Cambridge Analytica. This is the company that Faceyspaces got caught selling data to. Twitter magically banned Cambridge from buying data or running ads on the platform.
- Another huge corporation with a 'free' service. The free service is your data.
In a delightful bit of research, Princeton University set about seeing where Internet of Things devices went online. Click the link and behold the wonders of where your smart tv, security camera, and light bulbs go when started up. Let's say the devices go to many third party sites and are not always encrypted. A third party site is a site that has absolutely nothing to do with the operation of the device, like Faceyspaces and ad companies. This is but one reason I won't touch Internet of Things devices. Unfortunately, IoT is the current buzzword, so corporations will be using it, along with the previous buzzword: The Cloud.
Your Samsung Smart TV is a busy little beaver. During the first minute after power-on, the TV talks to Google Play, Double Click, Netflix, FandangoNOW, Spotify, CBS, MSNBC, NFL, Deezer, and Facebookeven though we did not sign in or create accounts with any of them.
- When I was little, I wondered what it would be like in 2000, when I'd be a certain age. Having aged another year, I never thought about what this age would be like. It's a good thing I remain the same irascible, sarcastic, social bastard. Nothing has changed but the number.
A few years back, the politicians were making a lot of racket about predatory lending, or payday loans. I'm not entirely sure what was done, although it's safe to bet it wasn't all that useful. It could be worse: it could be England, where every third commercial is for payday loans. They're very honest too.. the last one featured interest of 1249.9% (and someone called Uncle Vinny Smashuface)
- President Trump sent a High Mucketymuck to visit Netanyahu in Israel. Netanyahu, on Twitter, said the relationship between the two countries was stronger. Ever the truth-seeker, I mentioned that for $3.15 billion in military aid, it had better be strong. No response yet and no visits from the Mossad, although that UPS truck sure has been parked there a long time...
The country is now seeing some results from the Trump-Stormy Daniels feud. She is now suing him for slander, growing the total number of lawsuits to thirty five. In a totally, completely unrelated story, which has absolutely nothing to do with the multiple lawsuits, patrons of the strip club she's working at arrived ten hours early for her performance.
What are they going to do at a strip club for ten hours.....
oh.
In doing detailed research for this story, I looked at a lot of
porn stars. Old Stormy is not exactly in the top ten, in terms of looks. In fact, she's not in the top fifty. Perhaps she has other talents.... who knows?
It may surprise you to know that I've been...ummm.... involved with a few
strippers and adult video stars in my old musical comedy allegedly professional life. One had just made a movie, so we copied the cover, wrapped it around condoms, and threw them out to the audience during the show. We had never been as popular with the audience and other comics in our history.
Then there were the strippers. This was a long time ago and I'm not entirely sure how we wound up with them (no, really). It's possible our gig was in the strip club and we took it because it sounded like an experience we needed to have. I remember the show wasn't all that well-received, but we started to figure out not to perform near food or strippers. Or football games on bar tv, but that's a different story entirely. We had a video camera with us, because this was before the days of cell phones with cameras. I sat on a particularly attractive stripper's lap and she looked into the camera and told my girlfriend that the strippers were going to steal me away. For reasons I cannot comprehend, my girlfriend was
not amused.
Go figure.
- Mel Gibson is set to direct a movie described as a kamikaze war thriller. In it, he claims the kamikazes were Jews.
- Speaking of the Jews, a man burst into a Manhattan movie theater and starting to yell about guns, saying, "They are killing us," then "people with guns are killing people in the theater." In a reaction no one could have expected, people got a bit upset. One moviegoer jumped from a low balcony and hurt himself. The yeller grabbed him by the throat and said, "I got the Jew." The Jews really seem to be up to things lately.
- In PA, a boy told the police a clown jumped from the woods and hit him with a metal baseball bat. Apparently this sort of thing happens all the time in Butler County. No word on whether the clown was Jewish.
Let's Bring the Country Together (free speech edition):
a rapper has urged the Crips to assault Kanye West for his support of Donald Trump.
“Yo national alert, all the Crips out there, y’all f— Kanye up,” he said, referring to the infamous Los Angeles-area street gang.
This message was also posted on the rapper's Twitter account.
I have it on good authority there are no Jews in the Crips.
- I have done such an excellent job of staying away from this, but, as a service to my readers, I must let you know that Caitlyn Jenner (68) may marry 21 year old transgender 'blonde bombshell' Sophia Hutchins.
- No personal pronouns will be allowed at the ceremony or in their house because even Caitlyn doesn't know if she's a lesbian (or something) now.
A Conversation with the Dog
I'm on the couch, which is the first place anyone should look for me. I work, I nap, I watch tv, and I surf for porn from the couch. Marshall has been snoozing all day. Wife comes home from doing whatever she does when she leaves, heats up some lunch and sits down. What she forgot was the very sensitive trip switch in the cushion that alerts Marshall that something is happening and he needs to be there immediately to observe it.
This was his absolute second favorite thing in the world: Mommy eating. His first favorite is Marshall eating. He knows better than to sit near me because I won't give him anything while we're eating and from where we're eating. This is proper pet parent behavior, so the dog doesn't think your food is his food. At very least, get up and put it in his bowl. Of course when you do that, he knows that when you're done eating, you're going to put food in his bowl. There is no winning with this dog. Anyway, he perches near his mommy because mommy is a klutz and will drop something. Cheesy Poofs are the worst. For every handful she gets, two poofs drop to the ground. Marshall is right there to clean for us: our very own Hoover.
Marshall's new trick is when he sees Mom eating, he starts the pitiful whining, which continues and gets louder the longer he's ignored. To be fair, he's a dog, he's old, and he has a fatal disease. The whining can mean pain, hunger, thirst, bathroom, or I Want Your Food. Mom got up and gave him water and asked about the bathroom. Mom went about her business, which meant it was Dad's turn.
Dad. Dad. DAAAAAD.
Yes?
Scratch my ears.
Ok.
Groan... that's good... groan.
Like that?
Yes.
Ok, I have to call someone.
Dad. DAAAAAAAD.
Yes, my child?
Scratch my ears again.
Ok.
And scratch them again. I feel itchy today.
(I forgot that this is code for "I want something.")
Did you want something?
[runs to water bowl] Yeah, water.
Didn't Mommy just give you water?
Yes, but it wasn't the right water.
What was wrong? Was it brown?
No.
Was it full of metal?
No. It was sink water.
Yes.
Sink water is good for swimming only. That's why I always have my paws in the bowl. And it's not cold enough.
Ah. I see. Give me a second. [retrieves sink water he bottled and refrigerated]
How's that? [stands 4' over bowl and pours so dog can drink from the stream]
THAT's what I wanted.
Good, no more whining, please. [sits back down]
[60 seconds later] Dad. Dad. DAAAAAAAAAD.
WHAT is it NOW?
I have to go outside.
Couldn't you have asked me that before, when I was up? Do you understand efficiency?
Huh?
Never mind. [lets dog out]
[3 min later] Dad. Dad. Dad. Dad. I have to come back in.
I'm cominnnnnng.
Good!
This will be all, right?
Yeah.
Thank you.
Dad. Dad?
YES?
I'm going to take a nap with Mom. Since my paws are wet, I'll be jumping on the bed, probably sleeping on your pillow.
I. Love. My. Dog.
I do.
I treasure every moment we spend together.
Objectively speaking, he's the most brilliant, beautiful cocker spaniel in existence.
Treasure the people and pets in your life. It could all be over in a second.
- If, for any reason, you happen to be flying to New Zealand, leave your duck tongues at home. Don't ask me how I know.
It was December 31, 1969. At the Fillmore, the crowd was counting down. FOUR. THREE. TWO. ONE. Happy New Year!!! Bill Graham gets on the mic to wish everyone a happy new year, while Auld Lang Syne plays. Graham notes that this is the beginning of a new decade. Out of nowhere, the Band of Gypsies plays an impromptu version of Auld Land Syne. It was a new decade. In eight months, Jimi would be dead.
Cell phones have been around for a long time. A girlfriend had a bag phone. Wife and I got Beam Me Up Scotty phones a long time ago. As soon as the Palms came out, I got one - for the time, it was incredible. And here we are, in the era of Really Big Phones and I want a bigger one.
Must be my eyes.
It's probably a good thing we're going to check out new phones because there's a slight technical issue with our phones. We're fine so long as we don't try to call or text each other. When I try to call her, 90% of the time I can't reach her. I get voicemail. In any other industry, a 90% failure rate would be reason for a drastic change (except weather forecasters).
When she texts me, I receive it from three hours to three days later, if it arrives.
Just in case you think she's ignoring me on purpose. Mind you, when I text her, she gets it immediately, then forgets it'll take three hours to three days to get to me and responds.
Today I had to go to the supermarket to pick up Stuff and I was elected to go in and she parked the car. Never send a man to do a woman's job. I said this because I knew what would happen if I had to go into the damn store. About thirty seconds in, I realized I forgot the name of the cake I was supposed to get. I saw one that looked close, so I made a long distance call to the parking lot to ask the woman (who should've gone in in the first place). Ring. Ring. Ring. Voicemail.
Very funny. Either the radio was up too loud or she was talking to someone. Call again. Ring. Ring. Ring, Voicemail. My blood pressure reached unsafe levels immediately. Levels usually reserved for the cell phone nagging me repeatedly while I'm driving.
Perhaps it would be better to get the other items first. No soda aisle. Stupid me - it was in beverages. There's a reason I don't go shopping. Back to bakery. Ring. Ring. Ring. Voicemail. My face turned red - I could feel it. My blood pulsed, sounding like a huge kick drum. I swore the people around me could hear it too. Speaking of which, it required an incredible amount of effort to tame my vocal output, which was not even suitable for R-rated television. If I didn't get hold of it quickly, the police would arrive, followed by the guys in white suits in the padded ambulance. After reading this blog, you know how difficult it is to keep my mouth shut. Ring. Ring. Ring. Voicemail.
Ok, that does it. She wants a cake, she'll get a cake. A very sweet chocolate sundried tomato rosemary raspberry tart cake.
And she will love it.
She probably wasn't expecting the one person Satan's afraid of, but that's who came to the car with the bags. Her hair actually blew backwards as I expressed my displeasure. And when I say expressed my displeasure, every eight foot display window in the store popped and broke into thousands of tiny, sharp pieces in sequence. Those poor employees thought they were going to be on the news for the next week, as the victim of a deranged shooter. Not me - I was fifty feet away, expressing displeasure.
Cake... soda... supermarket.. PHONES. Phone. Cell phone. Ah.
I've mentioned the ring of Wife's phone before. Dead people can hear it in the next county. I have never heard a phone so loud it belonged in an old beat up car whose front jumped up and down on purpose, driven by someone called Chaco. Naturally this phone always happens to be sitting near me when it goes off. And I cling to the ceiling like a cat that almost got eaten by a rabid dog. I ask, ever so politely, if she could turn the ringer down, ever so slightly. She answers in the negative, because she has to be able to hear it. It's not that she doesn't realize it's loud, because when she knows I need to concentrate, there's a hole in the back yard in which she buries the phone, in concrete, under the garage, in the tunnel to the pizza place, three blocks away.
After I finished expressing my displeasure, she looked up with those gorgeous, innocent eyes and said, "I didn't hear it."
