NEW 123

“Normal is not something to aspire to, it's something to get away from."
--Jodie Foster

Jump to the Newest of the New



      Yes, I figured after 15 months of updating the same page, maybe it was time to get a newer News.

      The old computer finally died. The new one has hateful Windows 10. I'd download and install files, and they would just vanish. (It also has the wonderful feature of making the screen go black while playing a jaunty four-note non-tune, then doing it again with a less jaunty non-tune. Sometimes it will do 3 pairs of this in 5 seconds)
      So Itried to see if I could get a copy of Win7 from Jessica's awesome husband Ron. He's a high level programmer/engineer and many paygrades above installation, but I though his business software company might have clean, legal install disks for their customers. And he found one!
      And I couldn't get it to install. Just getting error screens. On the second day, I said "Try again," and, despite me not doing anything different, bang! Well, it looked like bang, but was more of a whimper. "Partitions are out of order." Well, out them in order then! I got all the way through, and "Digital signature not valid." I tried again with the same results. Then I
      It just did the non-tune blackout again.
      Then I dug through every inch of the fucking drive and found where it was hiding files. There are plenty of other reasons to hate it, but let's leave it there.

      Jess and I got together at Sturbridge Cracker Barrel Indoor Flea Market blah blah blah, you know what unpredictable freebirds we are. She got a haul of Disneyana and cat-related stuff. "Is that a coin purse?" I asked, pointing at something with Minnie Mouse on it. She said, "Actually, they're suspenders!" I said, "I never pictured you as a suspenders type of girl," and then found myself wondering how she could wear them. Backwards maybe? I'll leave it to you ladies of the female persuasion to figure out what that means.
      For once I bought stuff! An SPI game called "Spies!" "Best for 5 players," so yeah, pretty much just to have it. A couple of fridge magnets, one for a hen feed named "LAY OR BUST," another made from a cut up Monopoly board space--Connecticut Avenue. We saw multiple versions of the Worst Board Game Ever, including Beatles Monopoly. There were spaces labeled Abyy Road and Penny Lane, oh, the wit! The Luxury tax space was labeled Tax Man. I didn't look at it long enough to see what Jail was called, but if it wasn't "Gaol"...
      I bought a GI Joe comic book. No, not the 1980s toy ad, one from the Korean War. Here's the one I got:


      He's landing at Inchon! Holding that puppy. While in combat. This combo turns up on a lot of covers. My dog as a kid hated the 4th of July, so I guess his dog went deaf after the first dozen times Joe fired a machine gun an inch from his ears.
      Now, you may ask, as you are an asky person, why did you get this, beyond it being only $2? Because there was a whole buncha them in a pile. I realize these aren't big images, but let's see if you can figure out why:









      You gotta admire a man who loves his work. He has that same village idiot grin on every cover. And I mean exact--it's like the guy painted it once and said "Done!"
      You can see that this is not an isolated trend here. Here's my favorite:


      WTF IS GOING ON?! He's in Korea, fighting a top-hatted Voodoo priest? WTF COMIC BOOK It certainly proves the old adage: "Don't bring a knife to a helmet fight."
      And there is more than 1 cover in which he's beating someone with his hat. The stories in the comic itself are pretty boring.
      I also got "Batman: The Cheetah Caper," a Big Little Book. For those of you not old enough to start pricing walkers with tennis balls on the legs, these were from the 1930s to 60s, with a page of hack writing alternating with a page of hack drawing.
      The Batman book is...interesting. The Cheetah, who spends most of the story dressed as an orangutan, likes to put poisoned sponges in car tailpipes to make passersby "inhale the deadly fumes." He puts piranha in swimming pools. "The Cheetah enjoys watching people suffer. He'd rather listen to children groan in agony than anything else..."
      "Except eat peanut butter!"
      WTF Big Little Book.

      Sorry about the last post. Win10 wouldn't let me preview images without me replacing the entirety of the New. So, I really didn't realize how damn tiny those comic covers were, at least until I was at the point of "I don't give a shit anymore tonight." Nothing is easy win Win10, unless you count the ease with which you tear your hair out in frustration.

      I suppose I should mention that there's a beer strike on. There's basically 2 companies, both monopolies as far as the product lines. One has Miller-Coors and some relatively unimportant imports; the other has Bud and everything else. Guess which one's on strike!
      I will always side with labor. I AM labor. It's complicated as to why it's happening (I won't go into "pocket loading"), but it's also about benefits. The Bosses want the Union to pay for a chunk of their health benefits. Well, this the USA, be glad you get any benefits. A driver for the other company told me "We went through the same thing when our contract was up. We agreed to not get any raises if we kept our benefits. Now, they want to make them pay and not give them raises!"
      Oh, and it wasn't so much a "strike" as it was a "management lockout." They refused to let the workers in without warning. The latest rumor--who knows if it's true--is that if everyone doesn't turn up for work Monday, everyone's fired. Supposedly they've hired "200-300" people from North Carolina to replace everyone. That's oddly specific information from a Teamster who doesn't work there.
      That's to replace the scabs who already crossing the picket lines. Deliveries are being done by scab drivers, and unloaded by the sales reps and some temps. We haven't had a delivery in over a week, so our beer cooler has that much-desired "Going Out of Business" look. Most customers understand when we explain about the strike--we can't get it if they won't ship it--but some get all pissy and say "I'll take my business ELSEWHERE!" Like "elsewhere" is getting deliveries using their time machine. "Screw you, Toys R Us! I'll go to Kay Bee Toys to buy MY Furby!"
      We can pick stuff up at their warehouse, if we have a person and a van to spare and cross a picket line. I called in a 60-case order of essentials, and a guy of ours went to pick it up. I don't know how it ended, but after he'd been gone an hour, he called back. The owner said "They gave him the invoice, told him where to go in the warehouse, and a [scab] worker said 'I can't help you with that! I'll get someone who can!' A second guy came and said 'I can't help you with that! I'll get someone who can!' That guy didn't show up. So they're getting a fourth guy to talk to the other guys!"
      So if the apocalyptic rumor is true, these scabs are mad that they're being replaced with different scabs. I will be polite and make it so any new NC drivers get in and out quickly, but it'll be a long time before I act like they're my "buddy." I'll really want to say if they try to be overly friendly, "Do you know the name of the guy whose job you took? Oh, look out, you cut yourself! I hope that doesn't turn into a scab!"

      "Bill, I need to sit down!" said our saleman from the beer company that's striking. Currently a deliveryman. The "mass firing" rumor turned about to be a rumor. As I thought, how can management fire their workers when they locked them out?
      But he said it'll last until July 4th, maybe into August. I can't see how that company is making any money--we got our first delivery in 9 days. But it's co-"run" by a pair of dimwits who hate each other, and are trying to get the other guy fired (who'd be firing them is not a thing I can guess at). They're splitting the company apart over stupid and petty grievances, against their own best interests! Who's dumb enough to do that shit?
      And, this is not a joke: of the 17,000 tracks on the iPod, as I started that paragraph, "Scotland the Brave" played.
      Ah, yes. That country.
      Not Scotland, but the Brexidiots. I really paid little attention to it until the last couple of weeks. But when it was 49% Stay to 49% Leave Your Senses, I said "Shit. All this takes is a bunch angry old white racists voting, and the sane people not voting, and there ya go."
      And so they went!
      From what research I did before the vote, mainly of American or British ex-pat blogs, I thought: If Leave wins, they lose. The world stock markets will go down, the pound will drop value, and I'll bet Scotland tries to be her own nation again, and then, if they win their Leave vote, immediately sign on for EU membership. Huh! Think the EU might instantly grant them that?
      (disclosure: I'm half Scots, half Irish, no English, by no means remotely an Anglophobe, but may be a bit biased)
      The ever perspicacious John Scalzi shares his Brexit thoughts.
      Ha ha! Silly English! Bigots in this country would never vote in a racist demagogue who'll work against their own interests!
      Inspiration for this post goes to NPR headlines, which involved Cheeto-Haired Mussolini in Scotland. Opening his millionaire golf course      Adventures in Scabbing:
      We're getting only the people willing to cross picket lines, and none of them have ever dealt with giant beer shipments, or sometimes even the use of a handtruck. The first one had a driver who came from New Mexico. Which, if you look at a map, isn't next door to CT. I saw him and thought "Please just be driving please just be driving," but he brought stuff in on a handtruck, bumping into things, gasping and wheezing. This guy was in the 400-450 pound range. I don't want to be even inderctly responsible for someone's heart attack. Did they not explain to him what the job physically entails? I lean towards No.
      8days later, we got another delivery. The handtruck guy was Aussie (how far ARE they recruiting these people?), and was quite hostile. I suppose crossing a picket line twice a day at minimum will do that to you. Plus going to a store that blames you for the late deliveries. But I Pleased and Thank You'd, and after 10-15 minutes, he was smiling and very helpful. There was a lot on the truck that wasn't on the truck. The trucks are loaded by scabs who also have no idea what they're doing.
      Today's guys--so far, it's always different crews, I wonder what the turnover rate is--were awful. It took them 2.5 hours to unload and broke stuff nonstop. They broke a case, and let it sit in the stack drenching the other cases before they were told to remove it. If you were in a restaurant and some passing toddler puked on your food, would you not call the waiter over? So much stuff was soaked, that things were breaking after they left. Bottoms would fall out of 6 packs. We get credit for breakage, but they asked "Do you want me to just throw this in the dumpster?" Yeah, sure, let's take a loss because you suck.
      In unrelated work stupidity, one of the beer cooler compressers died. Instead of 38 degrees, the cooler was 48. This was almost 2 months ago, when I said "The other one will go at the worst time, like just before Memorial Day weekend!"
      But a compressor was $3000 ( my smaller delivery today cost us on $2K), so they dragged their feet, not even ordering one until 3 weeks ago. "It's on its way!" was the answer everytime we called. And I was wrong!
      The other one broke just before 4th of July weekend. The beer cooler was 60 when I came in. The owner said "I thought it seemed a little warm in there." Crimeny.
      So they spent extra to have a guy rush down to verify that the compresser was dead (duh), and will now pay extra to get the compresser delivered before the weekend. With no guarantee it will be. And it will be one compressor, when we now need 2.
      I work with/for fucking morons.


      Samantha Bee looks at Brexit, with special attention to the Chump. Guest appearance by David Tennant.




      Message on my answering machine, just now:
      (long pasue) "shluurrrp"
      "Hi, this is representitive Chris Murphy" [the CT guy who led the anti-gun filibuster] "we're sorry we missed you, but we're having a telephone town hall debate, and there's still time to call. The number is" It hung up.
      How did he know he missed me?

      I finally watched the first Yes Men movie from 2003, the one with the inflatable penis suit. At one point, they say "We just got a big donation from Herb Alpert! The Tijuana Brass guy? He really likes what we're doing, and gave us enough funding for a bunch of projects!" I LOVE me some Alpert! Now, I love him for more than his music.


      Oh, Brexiteers! Your likely new PM and key architect of the Leave Movement, Boris "Badenov" Johnson, has decided not to run. No doubt for the same reason current PM David "No, I didn't direct Avatar" Cameron retired instantly: "I didn't shit this bed, you did, YOU sleep in it."
      Brexit's very predictable negative outcomes began coming in the next day, and no one wants to be the one to stop the raging dumpster fire by peeing on it, not even the arsonists who started it. Pretty obviously it was just a propaganda move that the Baby Goebbels themselves fully expected to fail. It's really funny! Because it's not happening here. I may not be laughing after Election Day, when the crazy old racists turn out in their walkers and everyone else says, "Eh, why vote, Trumpster Fire can't win!"

      The only true "fair food" I've ever had was chocolate-covered bacon, and it was gross. Scotch eggs don't count, because they're awesome. The Most Ridiculous Deep Fried Foods From America's State Fairs. "There is no possible scenario in which the phrase 'he's running out of organs' is a positive thing to hear."

      Saturday was maybe 15% busier than usual, based on sales, no big deal. Sunday, about 3 times as busy as normal. That's a big deal. Six people came in as soon as I unlocked the door. We had 30 customers in less than 25 minutes. "More customers than minutes" is pretty busy. And it generally stayed that way. With people yanking on the doors after closing, as we were wearily walking to our cars.
      I've been a manager in a liquor store for almost 2 decades. And this question was a first:
      "Do you sell birthday cards?"
      I knew that this would happen once we started selling limes and peanuts!
      "Do you sell cantalopes?"
      "Do you sell aluminum siding? I only want it in taupe."
      "Where's your radioactive elements aisle?"
      "Do you sell monkeys? Oh! You do! Oh, come on! Only in bellboy costumes?! None dressed as a sort of idealized version of the complete Renaissance Man?"

      Library Cat's Job Is Saved. Before I read that, I thought "Some cat-hating dog person is behind this." From the article: "Council member Steve Ott is quoted as expressing concern about people who might be allergic to cat dander. As Mayor Ron White tells it, according to the Associated Press, the cat was targeted in retaliation when a city worker was denied permission to bring a puppy to city hall."
      Name of the town? White Settlement, Texas. Jesus Christ, Texas, was the city name "No Coloreds Allowed Town" already taken?


      Nigel Farage, the other super brave hero of Brexit, has courageously resigned as the head of his party. "My work here is done!" he said, just outrunning the exploding fireball that was once England.
      I think it's funny that his party is named UKIP. It reminds me of kippered herring, which is a tin of cold English fish with no spine and even less head.


      I've had an invasion.
      Of those obnoxious little beige pantry moths. I threw out all the open boxes they might be canoodling in. They didn't go away. So I got moth glue traps with pheromone bait. Hey, works really well! But they still weren't killing them as fast as they reproduced.
      So once those traps were full, I got more. I threw out the unopened boxes in the pantry. How they could sneak through a glued box into a sealed bag, I don't know.
      I became proactive. I'd already been squishing them at every chance, but damn, those things are fast. I started hitting them with a squirt gun--if their wings are too wet, they fly sloppily. I was still losing.
      So I bought more traps, and hoo boy do they work! Instead of little pumpkin seed-sized moths, I started getting fucking HUGE ones, that apparently thought my condo was a moth brothel. (A mothrel?) The first 3 were in the bathroom, so I drowned them by turning the shower on. Then didn't realize when I went to fill the cats' water bowl, which is also in the tub, that I hadn't switched from shower to faucet. Killsy got a very brief but very cold shower.
      Then these awful little fucks kept on coming. I need to build a wall! I'm sure that some of these moths are good people, once we weed out the rapey murder ones.
      And DJ went into Overkill Mode. He stalked and chased these moths. The first one he snagged, he carried in his mouth to the living room. And let it go, alive. He seemed baffled that it was still alive. "Good boy, Deej!" I said with a paper towel in my hand. "But you need to kill them!" I did just that, and he proceeded to show no mercy. He killed a total of 4 Mothras, and one stupid pantry moth that wandered into his bullseye. And ate them. Eww. Kilsy seemed a bit put off by the effusive praise DJ was getting, so I reassured her by saying, quite acurately, "DJ learned that from you! The White Ninja! You're his sensei!" And she loved that.
      I gave up on the squirt gun, and leveled up to air freshener. Since it works as a shotgun and not a sniper rifle, and isn't just water, the moths have lost. It glues them. They go nowhere but dead. I even defeated a giant housefly with Glade. At least twice the size of a normal one, which generally means "I need a place to leave my thousand maggots!" Not here you won't, or anywhere except maybe inside the sewer pipes I flushed your corpse into.

      My moth wall. You know how huge it will be, how fantastic? It will reach the top atmosphere air, so many hundreds of inches high, it's incredible. At the top this wall, there's nets, so great, the Chinese wall will be all "I guess I'm not so great!" Mosquito nets, except to catch moths, big moths, small moths, hey are you a moth? So sad. Also squirters, squirters of water that squirt, the Fantastic Four will say "Whoa boy, we're not so fantastic compared to those nets!" And they will be right, the only time Lyin' Reed Richards ever was right, my nets. Hey Fantastically-Overrated Four, know who else has a giant orange Thing? Me! Look at these fingers!
      I did not tweet that tweet that everyone is so PC about. It was someone on my staff. I did not publish a map showing where the Earth is, although I know where that is, I'm standing there, I did not tweet this so-called map saying "HEY GALACTUS! FREE EATS! CLINTON IS KOSHER!" My press guy did that, I fired him, and he was eaten by Annihilus. Now there's a bug man you can admire! He's strong, he says what he thinks in his little locust brain and he does it, he's like Putin that way. I applaud, with my large hands, Dr Doom's decision to leave the EU. How do you pronounce "EU"? "EEEE-YOU!" It will profit my golf course in Latveria, it will make all the money once no one has any, and can settle for a golf course with exactly 2 holes. You could say there are more holes than that, if you count the smouldering craters. Scenic, scenic, beautiful craters, with all the amenities murderous robots can apply to your face and body.
      I need to go, I know you love me, of course I know, but I have an appointment to stand over a mass grave or something and, I dunno, talk about Trump steaks. MAKE AMERICA ME AGAIN!
      Who Are All These Trump Supporters?




      Major Howdy Bixby's Forgotten Warbirds.



      Welp, just kinda using up time before the MST3K reunion showing.
      Busy day off. I went to the doctor for a follow-up on my new generic Ambien scrip. Which works quite well. Not as well as the samples of Belsomra he gave me last time, but my insurance refuses to pay for that. I have to be on Ambien for 2 years first, and have it not work. Why would I use something for 2 years if it didn't work? Sure, I might drive on 4 flat tires while replacing the gas in the tank with an angry badger, but for 6 weeks tops. Hipster Medical Student was sitting in for training, and asked "Are there side effects for Ambien? Is it addicting?" The doctor said "Yes. Belsomra not as much." Great. But I'm kind of addicted to sleep; it's a habit I picked up as a child.
      Then it was time to draw blood! Because I didn't have time to do it during my physical last month, given the optometrist appointment. Dr Hipster was to draw it, which meant I didn't have to waste 20 minutes waiting at the other part of the clinic. Just waste 10 because I was his CPR dummy. He hadn't done it a lot.
      "You have great veins!" he said. The doctor said after the tourniquet was tied, "That's a great vein. It's a thing of beauty." I said "I'll keep that in mind if I ever decide to become a heroin addict."
      I guess it wasn't that great a vein. As they used to say about cars with stick shifts, "Grind it until you can find it." "That's the side of the vein," said the doc. "Don't take it out, just ease over to the vein. And don't turn your head--the needle will go where your head does." After finally getting sufficient blood, he turned his head.
      So, yeah, expecting to be purple on the inner arm tomorrow.


      Before the MST3K reunion, I went to nearby BurgerFi. I ordered a cheeseburger, please thank you, and a Sixpoint Sweet Action from the tap. The clerk kind of apologetically waved the empty cup. I knew what she meant--old enough to charge me for a beer, too young to legally pour it. I smiled and said "I manage a liquor store, I know all about the rules!" A while later, another, slightly older woman brought me my beer. These are 16 ounce cups! I thought, having only been there once. Wait, there's more than 16oz in there! A very generous pour, and she gets kudos for for carrying over a plastic cup with maybe a quarter inch of free space at the top without spilling any. It was almost as if someone had yelled at the first woman because she didn't give his beer right away. Just before I finished my meal, some guy dumped his trash and gave me a long and pointed dirty look. Hmm. Maybe try Please and Thank You next time, jerk.
      645 on a Tuesday, and I couldn't even park in the cinema's giant parking lot? I was in some other place's lot.Well, it's summer vacation, and there are a couple of huge kid's movies that just came out.
      Rifftrax was very good. I'll admit that I've seen funnier ones, but seeing everybody (almost) was great. They all had good riffs, but I would put the Joel/Jonah one at the top, despite Joel over-relying on Frankenstein's Monster noises.
      The event suffered from the curse of the first Rifftrax Live shows: the camera didn't always point to where it should. Mike, Bill and Kevin announced their cohosts in the green room, "Trace and Frank!" and the camera's pointing at Trace and Frank. "Mary Jo and Bridget!" and the camera points at Mike, Bill, Kevin. "New meat, Jonah!" and the camera points at Joel pointing at Jonah, and doesn't switch until a fraction of a second before they announced Joel, when it swung back to him. During the Joel/Jonah skit, Joel yelled "PODIUM SWITCH!" and the audience found this the funniest part of the whole show! The audience physically at the live show, because the camera never switched from the film to the podiums. It lasted for 30 seconds. Only the live audience will ever know why this was funny.
      As I left, after spending the last hour of the show thinking "Even peeing twice before the show isn't enough after a giant beer," I saw that, given the number of women in saris, there must've been a Bollywood movie playing. And I saw the poster straight ahead. The movie wasn't listed on their website, but I guess they didn't need to advertise. I think that this was a big part of the reason why the place was so packed.
      Today, I saw my Mom for lunch. She told me "Movies are half-price on Tuesdays" so I guess that would be the main reason. We had handmade burgers, so I think I've maxed out on my red meat quota for a few months. We had our usual conversation--politics, family updates, politics. Then we went to the movies!
      Same place as I was last night. When I double-checked that Rifftrax was playing, I saw that listed right under it was Singin' in the Rain! Since we were already getting together, we decided to add that.
      If you haven't seen that movie, rent it. It's awesome. Great songs, great writing, great comic actors, unbelievable dancing (after Donald O'Connor's "Make Em Laugh" routine, I leaned over to Mom and said "It's amazing what they could do with CGI in those days!")
      Before we went in, the ticket taker tooked our tickets and said "You look like fans of classic musicals!" I guess because we're old. He said "You have to sing a bit before you can go in!" My Mom sang "Singin' in the rain" a bit. He said "How about 'Good Morning'?" and we dueted briefly on that. As we walked away, I thought that I should've said "I caaaain't stan' 'im!" as Jean Hagen's pivotal character said, through her nose.
      Then Mom gave me some awesome homemade blueberry mufffins, with blueberries she personally picked, and I ate 2 when I got home. Then, I bought drugs.
      From CVS.
      Busy 2 days off, but I'll remember these two far longer than I will next week's. I'm getting an oil change then!

      Strangely, this today-in-WWII entry leaves out the soldier's middle name, "FUCKIN'" That guy would eat your breakfast, then make you shit it.






      Killsy turned 17 last month!
      She's been getting skinny for a year, but she's 17, why wouldn't she? Although she eats a LOT, she looks like a greyhound.
      She's always licked her belly, sometimes too much, leaving her fur peach fuzz. She has a spot from 2 weeks ago, but since Monday, it's like the fur is gone, the skin is gone, it's like a lesion. It doesn't bother her when she licks it or when I touch it, but she's a cat and she'd hide it anyway. She isn't grooming it any more than any other part of her, and she's still super active and walking and running and leaping (and beating up DJ) like she always does, even though the Thing is close to her left hind leg. I made a vet appointment for the next day.
      Of course, I contacted the Cat Whisperer, and Jess said "It honestly could be anything. It sounds like to me like she agitated the skin (called a hot spot) and may have a scab and keeps pulling it off. That's the best I can think of from your description."
      After carefully watching her yesterday and this morning, I decided to cancel the appt for now. The Thing doesn't seem to bother her at all, but I'm keeping an close eye on it. She gets so stressed going to the vet that I'm worried that a visit might be too much for her. Obviously, if anything changes, she'll go to the vet.

      Speaking of keeping an eye open: Apollo 11 astronaut Neil Armstrong talked about looking at Earth from space: “It suddenly struck me that that tiny pea, pretty and blue, was the Earth. I put up my thumb and shut one eye, and my thumb blotted out the planet Earth. I didn’t feel like a giant. I felt very, very small.”

      Speaking of one eye--"GOOD NEWS EVERYBODY!"




--Marissa Powell, Miss Utah 2013, when asked about income inequality between men and women




      A customer wanted to talk about his opinions on DC Comics movies. I would normally join in, but he was A) VERY loud, B) probably drunk, and C) it was 5 minutes to closing on a day I'd worked 10 hours. He yelled about how much he hated them (and Ghostbusters), while proudly saying he pirated them. I'd hate to see what he'd be like if he'd paid for a bad movie.
      I will now speak of movies I haven't paid to see, or pirated, or have even seen. The DC movies!
      I did see the Batman: The Dark Knight Mumbles movies. The last one put me to sleep, literally. And that beloved franchise tentpole, Green Lantern. After that box office disaster, the Warner/DC people said "No more humor in our movies! At all!" To which I said "...There was humor in that movie? I mean, there were parts I laughed at, but I laugh at Gamera movies." And so the "Dark 'n' Gritty DC" phase began.
      With D 'n' G Superman. Who wanted to see that? It's like D 'n' G My Little Pony. Sparkly Twinkle Starkiller does not lay waste to cities and flat-out kill people. Batman never uses guns, Superman doesn't kill, My Little Ponies do not drop piles of pony shit everywhere. What was so hard about that? Dark 'n' Gritty is how I like my coffee--dark, full of coffee grounds, and poured down the toilet without tasting it.
      Because why would there be any humor in flying people beating up the other people who wear underwear in public? Which is odd, given that DC decided to enter the movie business because Marvel was making money in tonnages that could only be lifted by the Hulk. Apparently their thought was "Let's do the exact opposite of what they do! Let's make depressing movies, and make the colors depressing, and make the heroes depressing! It am make perfect sense on Bizarro World!" This was so successful a strategy, that Marvel/Disney only made enough money to buy the continent of Antartica. A Disney/Marvel/Tyrell Corporation spokes-replicant said "And we really had our heart set on Australia. But who's using Antartica anyway?"
      DC then came out with Batmumble V. MassMurderman. I haven't seen it, but I don't feel I need to. Warner decided "too little Batman!" and just before release, mixed in some uncompleted scenes, mainly as dream sequences, and earned the movie a Rotten Tomatoes score of "WTF was that about??"
      Then Fox came in with Deadpool. It had the highest box office of any R-rated movie. I said "I guess now there'll be a bunch of comic book movies that are R-rated, with lots of violence. And maybe humor."
      And within days, DC announced that there would be an R-rated DVD version of Man V Man, in which I assume they just inserted outtakes and bloopers from the movie. Batman, in a scream mumble: "DO YOU BLEED?" Superman: **faaaart** (waves hands) "Guess I shouldn't have asked Taco Bell to supersize it! Fuck, okay, fuck, that was me, let's do it again."
      Then they announced that the delayed, probably-aptly-named Suicide Squad was going to be more delayed, so that they could put $10M in new footage in it, in order to give it some humor. Like in Deadpool! I'm sure that they can shoehorn that in gracefully if they use enough Crisco. Here's the latest trailer. Pretty hilarious! Why don't they just retitle it "Harley Quinn Walks Around With Her Fanny Out," may help sales.
      But DC will always go its own way. Dark. Gritty. No humor. Really ugly costumes. Boring ass story lines. No shoes, no shirt, no service. But they will never steal from Marvel! Look at their flops, like Guardians of the Galaxy, and Ant-Man! Nobody wants to see comic book movies that have comedy! Marvel made so little money during this time that their spokesman, Galactus, said "We could only afford to buy the Moon. Yes, I'm pouring chipotle sauce on it. So what?"
      The yelling guy yesterday told me to watch the new DC trailers. Here's Wonder Woman! It is so different than the first Captain America movie! You see, she doesn't fight World War Two Germans with a shield, she fights World War One Germans with her...shield. Boy, I sure hate the WWI Germans! Smash the Kaiser! Although no villain is shown, I assume that the world is threatened with very large zeppelins.
      And, on the same day (ComiCon was going on), DC finally showed the whole reason it was in this: the Justice Avengers!
      LEAGUE. Justice LEAGUE.
      Huh. I know there's a Flash TV show, but is he exactly like Spider-Man in Civil War? Other heroes are Batman, Wonder Woman (WOW! It's almost as if she hasn't aged since WWI! WHAT A CONCEPT), Black Guy, who is in the trailer exactly long enough for people to kinda realize that there's a Black Guy in it, and the sensation of the century--AQUAMAN!
      He's played up all hugely important. He has a beard and feeds hungry people fish--is he FISH JESUS? The Son of Cod? Part of the Holy Trinity of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Mackerel?
      Also, Teen Flash: There have been 2 Quicksilvers in 3 movies. The "fast guy" thing has kinda been done before.
      Note that both of those movies have release dates of "Summer 2017," so the trailers may not represent the actual movie. They almost certainly won't, as DC will copy every succesful superhero movie until days before release.
      By then, the Marvel spokes...thing, some sort of glowing orb, hovered above the Earth. "THERE IS NO YOU. THERE IS NO ME. THE UNIVERSE IS NOW A DISNEY PROPERTY." In a blink of a nanosecond, the Universe imploded, and the next Big Bang began.


      TrumPutin 2016! Make America Dystopic Again!
      Alternately: TrumPutin 2016
      Asking America Wonder How Much It Needs Kneecaps,
      while a very large man smacks a giant wrench into his palm
      But today Trump says he was being sarcastic when he invited Putin to hack Clinton's emails, and the Russian government says it didn't do it. Good Enough Truths For Me!
      Truth/Put-On 2016!!

      Also, Miss Killsy's going to the vet next week. The Thing hasn't gotten any worse, but it also hasn't gotten any better. It's not making me feel better, that's for sure.



--headline on Representative Michelle Bachman’s (R-Michigan) website


      Hey, Stupdiest Things Ever Said calendar, I love you so. But next year you could be all one guy's sentences, although you might have to spread them out over a week to get them to fit:
      "Look, having nuclear—my uncle was a great professor and scientist and engineer, Dr. John Trump at MIT; good genes, very good genes, OK, very smart, the Wharton School of Finance, very good, very smart—you know, if you’re a conservative Republican, if I were a liberal, if, like, OK, if I ran as a liberal Democrat, they would say I’m one of the smartest people anywhere in the world—it’s true!—but when you’re a conservative Republican they try—oh, do they do a number—that’s why I always start off: Went to Wharton, was a good student, went there, went there, did this, built a fortune—you know I have to give my like credentials all the time, because we’re a little disadvantaged—but you look at the nuclear deal, the thing that really bothers me—it would have been so easy, and it’s not as important as these lives are (nuclear is powerful; my uncle explained that to me many, many years ago, the power and that was 35 years ago; he would explain the power of what’s going to happen and he was right—who would have thought?), but when you look at what’s going on with the four prisoners—now it used to be three, now it’s four—but when it was three and even now, I would have said it’s all in the messenger; fellas, and it is fellas because, you know, they don’t, they haven’t figured that the women are smarter right now than the men, so, you know, it’s gonna take them about another 150 years—but the Persians are great negotiators, the Iranians are great negotiators, so, and they, they just killed, they just killed us."
      Please note: that's one fucking sentence.


      Miss Kill Kill went to the vet today.
      If you're like me (and I know I am), you're going to skip to the end to find out if she's okay. She is! Mostly!
      Her self-inflicted wound via licking has been healing. But, given that she's 17 and has become even skinnier than me, despite constant eating, I took her in. She wasn't happy, but didn't fight too much. She knows she gets to go home.
      She also panic-drooled and hyperventilated. The doctor saw her as soon as she came in. The doctor, Dr Aronson, who has been seeing her since was still a kitten. She was weighed, and she's six pounds. I remember when she was almost 16. Her ears looked like they were crawling with mites. But it was high blood pressure, just from being there. After using the stethoscope, he said "Her heartbeat is over 200 beats per minute; I can't even count it."
      He thinks she may be hyperthyroid. She's burning off calories as fast as she can eat them. Her glands weren't swollen, and he says that the medicine is easy to give and that she should be fine. I find out the bloodwork results tomorrow. As soon as she went back in the carrier, the spots on her ears vanished, and her 90s-techno-BPM-heartbeat slowed to normal. She always insists on being let out of the carrier at the bottom of the common hallway, then runs up 3 stories to meow at our door. This time, she poked around neighbor's doors a bit.
      The prognosis looks good. So the Queen of the World, the Sun That Our Household Revolves Around, should still reign.


      "I’m not a schmuck. Even if the world goes to hell in a handbasket, I won’t lose a penny." Trump quotes.

      "Kill Kill is hyperthyroid," said Dr Aronson on my answering machine. "Her numbers are significantly above normal." He would've said "Reaching really spooky levels!" if my vet was Dr Krim from The Swarm. "You'll see some strong results from the medication! It's just a tiny pill, if you mix it with her food and she eats it, she shouldn't even notice it." Of course, you can see the caveat there.
      I gave her (and the Boys) her favorite Friskies, Giblets. She devoured almost all of it. You can see what was in the "almost" there. Left in the bowl: some gibs, and a little pink pill.
      I mixed it in, I added her brothers' leftovers in and mixed again, but the little pink pill remained. I really have no idea what else to do--there's a liquid, but given that that wasn't the first choice, it may have too strong a flavor. There's something I can rub on her ears. Yeah, that's happening. There's also...chemo. I want her alive, not alive and miserable.
      And then she finished off the rest of the wet food, PINK PILL INCLUDED! So maybe it needs to soak up the juice from the wet food? There's really no way I can premix it without her getting suspicious. (Her nickname's the Einstein Cat for a reason) We'll figure something out.

      That 2 month beer distributor strike finally ended. Semi-ended. Management locked out the union with no warning, giving them no choice but to strike. They're back to work, but they're still negotiating. Which is what the union wanted in the first place! I'm guessing that the bosses either couldn't handle the massive turnover in the scabs--you try unloading 100 or more cases of beer that are thrown in the truck at random, and usually wrong, because the warehouse was now all scabs as well--or Anheuser-Busch started leaning on them to end this crap, while the prime beer-selling months were around.
      I heard the work radio station begin its tiny news segment with a guy saying "HDI workers have finally decided to earn their paychecks again," in a dismissive voice. In my dismissive voice, I thought Fuck you! They weren't the ones who started this and then prolonged it. Yeah, it's like being on vacation, collecting unemployment while the bills pile up! The delivery driver said that he'd already started taking part-time jobs, even with the other beer company.
      Possibly it bears mentioning that the station is owned by Fox.


      And we are 2 for 2 on the meds! I was sure she wasn't going to take her pill this time, but it just needs time (like 75+ minutes) to marinate in wet food. Maybe that just makes it squishy enough that she can't tell it from a morsel of Friskies.
      Good news there! Because, as with me and my blood pressure meds, we're on this stuff for life.




      We're 5 for 5! Killsy has been taking her pills. She didn't yesterday, so I gave her the same pill this morning and down the hatch it went. It clearly depends on the type of wet food I hide it in. Yesterday, it was chunky, today a creamy/sauced kind. We're on the road to recovery!

      Wow, I write very little here, don't I? I guess I can give some short reviews of movies recently rented.
      I liked Deadpool more than I thought I would.
      I liked Zootopia less than I thought I would.
      Hey, I did say "short."
      One I really liked was April and the Extraordinary World, a France/Canada/Belgium animated film. It's set in an alternate France, where Napoleon III dies just before the Franco-Prussian War, which his successor averts. This leads to a steampunk dystopia in which technology stops at 1870 levels. There's no electricity in the 1930s, everything is powered by coal and wood steam engines, to the point where the French Empire is ready to invade Canada for its sweet, sweet burnable lumber. The technology is of the Jules Vernian 1880 lithograph kind (take the elevated tram! Paris to Berlin in only 82 hours!), but there is genetic manipulation beyond what can even do today. It's a bit of a stretch of suspension of disbelief. But there's a talking cat!
      The first half, establishing its world, was better than the ACTION! second half. But if you're already interested, I recommend it. And not because in the Making Of featurette, the music the animators listened to while working begins with Brian Eno. There's also a talking cat.

      This, however, is the GREATEST STORY EVER TOLD: Mad Charles! "So Be It! KA-RUNCH!"




      Huh. I guess mail order catalogs are still a thing. Whatever happened to Fingerhut?
      Let's see, on the back cover: "Natural Healing Bracelet: Genuine turquoise, coral and yak bone." Well, "genuine and reclaimed ingredients," since it didn't heal the yak much. "A portion of the purchase price benefits the children of Tibet." Hasn't Tibet been under hostile foreign occupation for 65 years? Chinese soldier: "Hey kids, keep a portion! Reclaim the bullet I put in your yak's head!"
      This looks girly. And OLD. I mean directed at old ladies. Looked, on page 2, it's a plush Flying Purple People Eater! The kids today, they love the 1950s novelty songs! In the song, he's one-eyed, but rather than make a cyclops, they just reclaimed a teddy bear and ripped one eye out. It is $29.95.
      Candy Corn Tuxedo Shirt, $39.95.
      Ha ha! A shirt with a moose that's been shit upon called chocolate moose! 29.95.
      Hand Painted Porcelain Turkey Earrings. 29.98.
      Shimmering Bee Stripe Top. "Houston--shimmering! Will history blame me, OR MY SHIRT?" Eee wee, a bee T! It should be a sweat shirt! MY SWARM REFS HAVE BEE-COME SO OBSCURE EVEN I DON'T GET THEM
      "Love You More bracelet," 19.95. That's quite the passive-agressive statement.
      Hey, it's the Grandpa pages! Nut Scratchers, 14.95! They're back scratchers but with walnut shells on them! NFL (R) Fox Sports (TM) Robot Action Figure, 29.95! "Fox Sports logo on shoulders!" Couldn't they fit it on his nuts? Potty Piano, 19.95! Remember the giant piano mat in Big? This goes front of your toilet, and you can tap out songs with your feet between the dried pee stains! Maybe wear the 16.95 Bigfoot slippers.
      Pet people pages! One can buy a plaque about cats being dead, or a sign about dogs being dead.
      Happy Trees! Yes, it's the DVD set of that PBS painter dude. 89.95. Happy broke trees!
      Pages and pages of lady clothes. And the order form has a sizing chart, just for the ladies. Wow, that's a lot of variables. Do you measure 32-26-35? Too damn bad! We only sell 32&1/2-26-35&1/2 sizes!
      Black Cat Pantyhose, 19.95. Don't worry, lady women of the female persuasion reading this! I'm certainly not picturing you wearing these!
      Grandchild pages! Yep, I have now stopped picturing your legs in those black cat stockings.
      The... OLD LADY LINGERIE PAGES?! Hey, can I have one of those stockings? I need to tie off the blood flow from a part of my body FOREVER.
      Did that "Love You More" bracelet your friend got you seem passive-agressive? Give them the "LOVE YOU MORE" pillow! Just leave that passivity behind!
      Pets! Cat Wine Bottle Holder, 19.95. The cat seems to be vigorously humping the bottle, so it would've made more sense if it was a dog.
      Another page of "Special Tees!" They really look like "ones no one bought." One is in a Chinese-restaurant font and says "SUM TING WONG." Is there...a joke there? Several of these are scattered throughout the catalog, and there are a bunch saying things like "Of course I'm right I'M BOB" or "That's Mr. Bob to you."
      Log Pillow! It's a pillow, and it looks like a log! Perfect for your Twin Peaks cosplay! And most of the rest of the page is devoted to owls. Wait--Logs? Owls? BOB?!
      Next: Jesus Pages. Okay, I guess the Twin Peaks page was coincidence. T shirt: "PRAYER: The world's greatest wireless connection." Where's my T that says "JESUS: 404 NOT FOUND"? Comfort Cross, basically a worry stone you rub except no one died on your worry stone, 19.95: "Handcarved of olive wood from the Holy Land," possibly at gunpoint, it "develops a patina over time." From the Ruffles grease on your hands.
      Grandpa time again! Gun Cylinder Pen Holder! 21.95. NFL (R) Towel! Held by a bikini babe who's young enough to your great-grandaughter's mother. T shirt: "TRUMP 2016 Make America #1 Again!" I make an American #2 every time I eat a lot of Metamucil! America #1, that's why I wear Depends.


      I flipped through that catalog again, because I know a woman who might greet Trick or Treaters while being the Twin Peaks Log Lady. I came across something I missed. Can you guess what it is from the description? "Sturdy, cotton-canvas bag displays rivets, studs, medallions, and a brass, carabiner-attached owl to watch over your progress."
      I have no idea what progress this owl is watching, except: BOB. Stop watching me, BOB!
      It's a "Steampunk Shoulder Bag."
      Steampunk is now advertised to grandmothers. If you have goggles, just throw them away. Or weld.


      Byron was poking his head in an empty box, not looking at me. I said to Killsy and DJ "Treats?"
      And Byron immediately came out of the box, looking right at me. When I asked "Treats?" he ran to his treat-getting spot. One of those things that apparently fall into his narrow range of hearing--and so far, the only word.

      The 2016 Bulwer-Lytton Contest



      Movie seen: The Martian. It starred Matt Brad Ben Damon Pitt Affleck or somebody. It gets points for the early line "I'm going to science the FUCK out of this!" It was never dull, but loses points for a lack of real tension. Did they make a $150M movie so that Johnny Leonard diDeppio could croak at the end? (Spoiler: Yes. He fucking so dies. Last words: "WHO KNEW ABOUT THE LEAPING MARS BRAIN LEECHES?!")
      Like that movie where Tom Hanks goes to the bathroom (meaning Castaway, to differentiate it from all the other movies that involve Tom Hanks pooping one out, which is all them), it's most interesting in the "How does he survive?" part of the movie. While Tom loses his shit, in the other sense of the term, Grizzly Puggsely Adams Addams just remains sane. He is not the only person on a Pacific island, but the only person on the planet, and for unknown reaons can only listen to disco. The disco alone was driving me nuts. Then Nasa discovers he's alive, and does everything it can to bring him back alive.
      For reasons that make zero sense, his crewmates going home are not told, nor do not hear one word about this. Apparently, something that's being broadcast all across the globe misses their ship. I can see why they don't get cable--it'd be a long wire--but they regularly commincate with Nasa. And their families. This never comes up? What is to be gained by not telling them? "They need to concentrate on their mission!" we're told, but when we next see them, they're just sitting around doing nothing. Hey, don't interrupt that guy's card shuffling! He's concentrating!
      The real problem for me is that when Nasa gets involved, spending thousands of man-hours and billions of dollars to rescue one White Male Celebrity--isn't there something better the government could be doing? Feeding the hungry, preventing gun deaths, curing diseases, fighting global warming, putting out that dumpster fire behind the 7-11, making Cheetos not leave that dust the color of Trump's skin on your fingers? Genetically altering chipmunks so that they do triple backflips whenever they hear "The Macarena"? (There's no progress there, it'd just be funny) Maybe starting dumpster fires with Cheetos and arsonist chipmunks? No, we've gotta go rescue Robert Cuba Harry Sammy Downey Gooding Connick Davis Jr. Jr. Jr. Jr.! With the help of China shoehorned in, because you don't make a $150M movie without getting some of those sweet, sweet yuans.
      Gravity was better. But overall, it makes science look cool, so I'm all for that. I give it 3 and-a-half chipmunk backflips!
      Next in my rental queue: "No! Not the bees! Nooooo! Not the bees! My eyes! Arghhhhhhh!"


      Hey, did I mention I'm on vacation?
      Not a very eventful one. My plans were minimal. I was going to visit the Coventry Farmers Market on Sunday, but it'd had been a week of crushing humidity and massive downpours, and every time it rains, that place turns into a swamp. Plus it's surrounded by forest, so bugs.
      I've slept a lot, because I'm tired and also old. Today was the big day--Meet Jessica at Cracker Barrel and go junk shopping, then go to the movies and watch Rifftrax do Mothra
      The Crack Bar was no busier than usual, but I guess it was. "I'm Mary. I'm not your server, she'll be with you in a minute." Mary? People today name their kids Mary? That's my Mom's name. She's so old, as a kid she once punched out a Hessian with her butter churn.
      We talked about cats a lot, as that surprises you exactly in the way it doesn't. And a lot of other things as well. And the people at the next table got their food, less than 10 minutes after sitting down. And I left the table to flag down Mary and say "We placed our order 45 minutes ago..." Not in a hostile or angry way, of course. Hey, we got free biscuits and cornbread! Two each. Jess hates biscuits, and the cornbread was about the size of an Oreo. "The grill time is a little behind." For eggs? Toast and some bacon? Our food was promptly delivered after that.
      I think it was a miscommunication between Mary and the server. It's not the first time this has happened to us there. The last time it did, a manager came out and apologized. This time a manager came out and was kind of hostile. Didn't apologize, just grabbed a couple of our plates. Did we ask for a manager either time? Were we making a scene, demanding Cracker Barrel comp our meal? Just a bad day to be there I guess, at least for us.
      In her car, I gave her some Funny Times and that catalog. I opened it to the black cat stockings and said "Please don't buy these and wear them around me! Don't ever, ever wear these around me...Is the reverse psychology working yet?" She laughed and said "I have a pair of those! I wore them for Christmas!" I said "GUH" and fell over dead.
      We went to the indoor flea market, where the prices are low and you can find some great bargains. She does anyway. "Hey, Bill, want a Nixon pin?" I flipped through the tiny box of political pins. I said "There's a Pluto pin."
      "Pluto, the Disney dog--here's a Minnie Mouse."
      "oh my god."
      She collects those. They turned out to be first generation ones, worth more than the $3 she paid.
      She found a lot of cheap little things, mainly cats and Disneyana, including more stuff she thinks might be worth

      more than

      they were charging

      Here's another not-first for us at the Crack: About 20 minutes after leaving, all I can think is I'm going to puke the bacon.
      She said that she stopped getting their bacon because it made her feel queasy. There are certain foods--especially red meat--that I've noticed problems with. Likely a gut bacteria thing. We walked to the antique place across the street, which used to have a shop cat named Cleo. They left the store's doors open literally feet from an incredibly busy road yeah, you know how that story ended. "We do still have the dog!" he said. Jess and I telepathically shared the thought "Dog? Who gives a fuck?"
      There was a dog in the store, who was fascinated by me. He was about half the size of Killsy, who is currently 6 pounds. He did look exactly like Speck from Pee-Wee's Big Adventure. Then I went outside and threw up a bit, and I was sternly told "Bill, it's time for you to go home!"
      Returning to the restaurant we shall never visit again, I used their bathroom. Hey, you're the guys who sold me this food, let me return it to you.
      Got home, toilet heaved, got that worried look and little meow someone gives me when she knows I don't feel good. Mothra replays on Tuesday. I can see it then.
      I did get to see Jess. One out of two ain't bad! 0.5 out of two, could've been better.
      Also: Cranky Cracker Manager Guy, who wears a tie with a fucking red plaid lumberjack shirt? Crimeny.


      I should mention that I pointed out to Jess the log pillow and suggested she give out Halloween candy as the Log Lady. She said "No one will get that!"
      "EXACTLY! The kids won't get it, their parents won't get it! That's what will make it extra creepy!" Then I acted out a little skit as Log Lady Jess greeting children.
      "My log tells me many things. It has shown me your futures. [points to each child in turn] YOU--in a car crash. YOU--chokes on a pretzel. You...the badgers, so many badgers, the angry hungry badgers! Do not try to escape them! They will find you." [pause, then brightly] "Who wants a Snickers?!"
      And I will not be surprised if she does that.

      Wednesday discovers the Ramones:


      You might want to let it autoplay after that 2 minutes. "The Best of Wednesday" is enjoyable. The actor playing TV Weds--I'd say they were happy if she remembered her lines. The actor playing Movie Weds--how old was Ms Ricci? 10 or 11? She could already do more with an arched eyebrow than actors 40 years older. The funniest/creepiest/funniest part to me is the simple line "Wait."
      My theory: TV Weds (the character) is too young to have realized yet that everyone thinks her family is a bunch of aberrant freaks. Morticia and Gomez, they're long since past caring what others think. Movie Weds is exactly old enough to know what people think about her family. And is becoming defiant about it. "Be everybody else" is a thing others want, not a thing she wants.

      I left my first Yelp review! Not of Cracker Barrel. But of my vet!

      Today, their business manager left a review of my review:      Anyone who describes Byron as "mischievously adorable" has obviously never been in an exam room with him. Unless they reviewed Texas Chainsaw Massacre with "that mischievously adorable Leatherface!"


      Other synoyms for "mischievously adorable Byron at the vet"!
       Inextinguishable furnace of rage
      "WHERE WALKS THE WERE-CAT?" with a 1963 Kirby cover
      Fulminating Satan Scythe
       Walking and not very happy about it Sarlaac pit
      Ancient Order of the Merovingian Shit-killers
      Tony Award Winner for Bloodthirsty Non-Stop Screaming, 2003, please stop screaming already, it's 2016
      Most 911 calls during the Tony Awards, 2003-2016 (ongoing)
      Several mangled Vet Tech smoothies
      Scrubs that are really more like "throw in a barrel and burn! Burn the barrel forever!"
      A piece of French toast that looks like Jesus! Being punched out by Rasputin! ONLY ONE MAY LIVE
      Ed Gein in a cat clown suit
      Ed Gein EATEN by cats in clown suits
      GHOST TANK! Destroyed by the Huns on this very day in 1942! Ask for LARGE SARGE MARGE--and BYRON
      "No! Not Nick Cage! Nooooo! Not the Wicker Man remake! My eyes! Arghhhhhhh!"

      Hey guess what movie I watched with my eyeballs yesterday.
      I was expecting to do a scene-by-scene destruction of it, but, well, it's bad, but not good bad. I almost turned it off early on. I guess it's a pizza movie, which is a thing I just made up. The first hour is boring, but that's enough time you and friends to share a pizza and a beer without paying much attention to the film.
      It begins with Nick Cage, future Ghost Rider but current Cali motorcycle cop, so he's in CHiPS--I'm sorry, I must pause here--
      --when he sees a Beanie Baby thrown out of a station wagon and he returns it to a panicked woman and her unpleasant little girl. We repeatedly see tractor trailers race by at speeds normally used by Nasa planetary probes. The adorably mischevious little girl throws the stuffie back into traffic, and Nick says "It's all a part of the job" and retrieves it in exactly the time you think "They're gonna creamed by a truck trying reach escape velocity," they get creamed by a truck. The car, remarkably, dosn't move that far. It does catch on fire, all over it, like the tires were inflated by gas left over from the Hindenburg. The mother is dead, the awful little girl resists Nick's attempts to rescue her from the BBQ, the mile-long truck apparently reaches hyperspace, as it isn't even seen again in this movie, or this shot. Or any of the other shots involving the accident, and Hoo Whee! I hope you liked the accident, it's going to be flashbacked a lot.
      Nick becomes an addict to Some Pills overnight. Nicky eats them like Reese's Pieces, if Reese liked Valium, or whatever the Some Pills are supposed to be. This movie could be called Requiem for a Trainspotting and there would be less pills.
      Then Lady Cop comes by. Is she the love interest? She would be, but this is the point I almost stopped watching, saying "I'll bet the writer-director-coproducer man had a messy divorce and lost custody of the kid."
      But I kept watching, because I love my readers more than I love my neurons. There's fan mail for cop Nick (...what?), one of which is from some lady whose daughter girl has been female-napped. This is the point where we get repeatedly told that Nick is named Ed Malus, pronounced "MALE--US!" for the edifcation of those guy audience members who didn't have a bad divorce.
      But where did this mysterious letter come from? Why, it's an island, apparently invisible despite having a website and being in Puget Sound! No one has ever spotted this IN PUGET SOUND?! I live in fucking New England and know where that is!
      "It comes from that island no one has ever seen! To the east of New York City!" (points at map)
      "I'm...not seeing it."
      "Of course not! It's a secret Island! It's called--LAWN GUY LAND!"
      "What? Is it by Long Island?"
      "I just said it was! It's--LAWN GUY LAND!"
      "Still not seeing it."
      "RIGHT THERE--GAWD! You are wicked retahded!"
      We hope you have enjoyed today's lesson in NESL (North Eastern as a Second Language)
      I'm just pointing that out because it's some major plot point. James Bond SPECTRE bases are better hid, and they put one in a Japanese volcano. The only connection to the mainland is a single floatplane. It's pilot is sworn to secrecy, so he gets bribed by ONE HUNNERT DOLLARS. "Ulysses and his twin bother Grant!" if you want to know exactly how much the dialog sounds like random words.
      Nick is the dumbest cop in the world, or at least in the Forbidden Zone of Puget Sound. That's okay! Because the Sisters of Mystery Island are even dumber. EVERY discussion is NICK: "Me cop! Me want find girl!" SISTER FUCKING I HATE MY WIFE: "Well, there certainly isn't any human sacrifices for the Harvest going on here! [pause] Did I think that, or use my outside voice?" NICK: "Huh? Wha'? DUUUH. [pause] ME COP!" These women ladies keep secrets worse than squirrels hide nuts, and I'm talking squirrels that try to pretend they have pockets.
      They keep photos of the sacrifice girls on a WALL at the ONLY CAFE. Why do they? I mean, have a cafe? NOBODY HAS EVER HEARD OF THIS ISLAND. Except for pilot guy, and--
      THE BEES
      Oh yeah, Nicky don't like bees. He's allergic. He carries a pair of "Bee Epi-Pens." That's how they're labeled. Chekov's EpiPen!
      He visits the town doctor, Dr BEE Arthur! She also has pics of the sacrificed little blonde girls just...lying the fuck around in plain view. She quickly hides them in a book titled "Rituals of the Ancients."
      It's in a fine binding, the kind one used to see in Time-Life books about ancient astronauts. Then--she goes away. So Nick can poke around her cottage--O M G!!Fetuses! Jars of fetuses, maybe you should put those in the fridge, they'll go bad like potato salad. You see--they're ABORTIONIZING LITTLE BOYS oh no!! Like my damn blue-eyed blond ex-wife I'll bet!
      This is actually the point where the movie gets enjoyable. There are little things before this, like Nick wearing a fucking suit with tie and jacket with leather patches on the elbows all movie. The blue-eyed blonde woman hatred, while no men have any speaking roles, and are shown wearing aprons like dresses in a "Hey, did your wife cut your balls off?!" way. The ridiculous concept of an island that no one knows about (besides its webpage) that gets increasingly larger as the movie slogs along, including its redwood forests and the shot that makes it look like it's within dog-paddling distance of the coast, with mountains RIGHT THERE. And its bike trails! Yes, this movie really thinks that repeated scenes of Nicky riding a beat-up old Schwinn are that exciting. The line Nick delivers with a gun in his hand, "STEP AWAY FROM THE BIKE. Keep your stupid mask!" You see, they're wearing masks as they sacrifice! The fact that we know the island, a whole half-mule from the coast, [editing: I meant "half-MILE," but it might as well be as long as half of a mule] is a desolate wasteland because there's no cell phone reception. We know this, as Nick waves his 2006 clamshell around like a fucking geiger counter, it going "BEEP BEEP" the whole time. Oh, right, masks. This would be the part where the Bad Ladies wear masks, and Nick is dressed in a full-body bear costume. This island, as forgotten and distant as Catalina or Manhattan, with its only source of food being honey and what they get from ONE guy in ONE Cessna, which has pubs with polished wood tables and elaborately-furnished Victorian mansions, has a FUCKING BEAR COSTUME PLACE. No wonder no one has heard of the island. They're too embarrassed to admit it.
      Also, every woman in the world is conspiring against Nick. Remember the car crash? I sure do! They replay this like EVERY 15 MINUTES as a dream sequence. One dream sequence literally has its own dream sequence. Apparently the mother and girl weren't killed when their car got creamed and we saw them fucking die! Not, it was part of the conspiracy to capture Nick Cage, avatar of the bitter writer/director/coproducer! Remember Cop Lady? WHY THE FUCK WOULD ANYBODY? Yeah, she was in on it too.
      Then he gets burned in a giant wicker man thing and dies. And we are told in the first credit "For Joey Ramone." "Teenage Loboto--BEE!" "Blitzkrieged COP!" Give me a sec to come up with some Ramones...bee..puns...
      They spent the whole movie building up his bee allergies and Bee-Pens.
      When I first put the DVD in, the menu listed "With SHOCKING Alternate Ending." Then, it listed the movie as "Encino Man." And told me it was pan-and-scan, not letterboxed. A 2006 movie doesn't have widescreen? I flipped it over, and it was WS--just like a DVD from about 1996.
      However, it did have the alternate ending. For those who are curious, this is the difference:
      "No! Not the bees! Nooooo! Not the bees! My eyes! Arghhhhhhh! Arghhhhhh! Arghhhhhh!"
      Then, they stick him with the Bee-Pen, so that they can kill him another way.
      There might be more differences, but even I'm not masochistic to watch this twice.
      Now I want pizza.


      Thanks to reader Roger, who gave a link to something I can only respond to with "Wak."


      A student asked "Did Adam and Eve and Noah's Ark happen?" The teacher said "Those aren't meant to be taken literally. Those are parables--old stories that tell us truths about ourselves."
      It was the 1960s. the teacher was a nun. I was at Catechism class, which sadly has nothing to do with cats. It was today what's called (I think) CCD, or basically Catholic Sunday School. (But it was on Saturdays, so I had to miss cartoons) A 1960s nun said that the Bible was not literally 100% true. Except for the New Testament, the Jesusy bits. And I got it, despite being pretty devout. I was always baffled by Noah's Ark. Everything came from 2 of each animal? I was too young to understand the concept of incestuous inbreeding, but I got just how weird it was. How did they feed them?
      I was even more baffled in the early 1980s, when fundamentalism rose in the US, and people actually believed the Ark was real. The Obsession With Biblical Literalism. If the bible is literally true--go read Leviticus. The second chapter is about how to properly serve God some waffles. OK, griddle cakes, so that is 99% true.






      I was rereading "Uncle John's Great Big Bathroom Reader," published in 1998. It's what it sounds like--a trivia book with interesting, short chapters you can read while making your doodies. I'm surprised that this, on page 118, hasn't been mentioned recently:
      "One year Trump visited the Bronx's Public School 70 (located in a poor neighborhood) for the school's annual Principal for a Day event. On his way out, Trump dropped a $1 million bill in the bake sale cash box. (It was fake, of course--Trump's idea of a joke.)"





      Once upon a Laborious Day, I used to explain how the world did not end this year, despite predictions to the contrary. In remembrance of this hallowed if forgotten tradition, THE RAPTURE IS ABOUT TO HAPPEN! All true Christians will go to Teh Heavan, especially the ones who are assholes about it!
      ...On August 30th, 2016.
      Well, either it didn't make the news, or no one's worthy, or mabe it got some very devout squirrels. But don't worry!
      Rapture September 2016? That ? inspires confidence!
      "It should be clear that judgment did not begin Yom Kippur 2014 as Torah Calendar is off exactly one year as the year 6,000 will begin September 2015 with the year 6,001 (the beginning of the 7th Millennium) beginning September 2016 as being the most logical date for the Rapture September 2016. For those of you not familiar with my logic of the tribulation beginning in September 2015, then I would recommend reading my recent article titled, the Final Shmitah Connection to 2021. This article lays a good foundation of this concept as well as a good foundation for my book, September 2021."
      That makes it sound all Torah-ey, but trust those people to confuse 6000 BC with 6001 BC!
      You might note that the url goes to "september2015-rapture," but the Rapture is going to happen this month. Unless it's in 2021. Maybe "Next Sunday AD!"
      The book that pretty much created the Rapture obsession in America was "The Late Great Planet Earth." The Rapture was obviously going to happen in exactly 40 years after Israel was refounded in 1948! Or when it captured Jerusalem, in 1967. And, plus or minus 7 years. This was "exactly" between 1981 and 2007.
      (looks at watch) Jesus Christ! What's taking you so long, Jesus Christ? There are Rapture parties to plan!
      "Hello, Bill! Welcome to our Rapture party!"
      "Umm, yeah, kinda surprised you asked me here, what with my atheism and all."
      "AHH-HAHAHA! We're going to HEAVEN, and we want you to see us go, and YOU NOT! Canape?"
      "Sure! Can I have a drink of the demon liquor?"
      "You'll be thirsty--WHERE YOU'RE GOING! AH-HAHAHA--ha...ha?...AAAARRRGGGH THE PAIN"
      "Whoa! Raptured! Funny how they didn't go to a cloud in the sky, instead all of them went through the floor into a flaming abyss with laughing pitchfork guys. Huh. Well, more canapes for me!"



      I'd say that those people were pretty smart, if their goal was to not have to do jury duty.

      Speaking of smart: Be smart and buy a Hewlett-Puker desktop. Get it at Best Buy, open your car trunk, then leave the computer behind your car while you drive over it multiple times. You'll just be cutting out a step.

      I've never seen a house where the bathroom had no windows. My condo is the first I've seen where the window is in the shower, and has a wood frame.
      So I have to buy a shower curtain liner and pin it over the frame, so that it doesn't dry-rot. And don't you just love that new curtain liner smell? The way it outgasses vinyl stench, eventually permeating the entire fucking house?
      It doesn't even have a brand name on it, unless it's called "2/$3.00 SUPER VALUE!" I'll not make any attempt to find an image, because--well, have you ever seen Repo Man?


"shower curtain liner."
      One is also carefully instructed "Do not machine dry. Do not iron." Yes, do not iron a sheet of Chinese vinyl. Do not throw in the dryer and fuck that thing all up. Do not attempt to use in place of a blazing Yule log. Eat not of this, unless you use much mustard. Perfectly fine for wrapping your Laura Palmers.


      Stupidest Things Ever Said could use this next year:
      "Lauer then asked if that means Trump would take women out of the military. He said, 'No, not take them out, but something has to be happened.'”

      I should tell you that Ms Killsy is doing very well! She's been taking her meds, and has an identfiable belly again! She takes her meds when she doesn't know that she is, anyway. I break them into little pieces and mix them into her wet food now.
      That's since I thought "Her salmon Friskies are the same pink as her meds...Maybe I can just drop it on top." She took 2 big bites of her food. Then stopped, walked over to me, and gave me the Kill Kill Glare. She refused to eat the salmon, even the next morning. Sometimes, she's too smart for her own good. But I'm confident about her next weigh-in at the vet.


      Were there people yelling "NEVER FORGET!" on December 7th 1956? Probably. Were they also yelling "KEEP NUKING THE JAPS!!" Probably not.



      I've had the 45 for almost 40 years. Is this the Worst Best Song, or the Best Worst Song? It certainly has the most intentionally bad guitar solo. But I love it for the non sequitur lyrics:
      "Camels lack reality, and camels lack a brain.
      I guess that ain't the truth, but there's a villa in Spain!"




      She was sleeping peacefully right next to the carrier, which was convenient. Not good, as she was sleeping peacefully, and now she had to go the vet.
      (pauses to rub the World's Cutest Belly)
      We were in the room longer than I wanted. I heard someone outside say "It's kind of chaotic here!" It also sounded like it was a sales rep, and if you've ever been to the human-doctor, those guys give away free stuff so fuck the actual patients. My sales reps and delivery drivers know that if there are customers, they have to wait.
      The doctor came in, weighed her, and she's gained more than half a pound! Which sounds like nothing, but that's a 10% gain in her weight in only a month.
      She let out a tiny hiss and kept her mouth open in fear when the tech stupidly left the blood-letting needle in front of her face. The tech said "Her ears are bright pink from the stress!" Yeah, how about not doing that in the future?
      The results were in today. Better, but not good--something about her thyroid level going from 14 to 9, when it should be 4. So I'm to double up her pills. I'm hoping that I can just get a double-dose single pill. But she IS getting better! Not good: "We'll have to take blood tests every 6 months." My reaction: "...Oh." That's more than I want to subject her to. But if it keeps her alive...

      Did you like yesterday's earworm from the Swell Maps? I'll bet you didn't! So here's more terrible songs that are terribly catchy! All of them are SFW, especially if you don't like your coworkers. If so, PLAY LOUD

      I've linked to some of these before. For instance, It's Cheese Day in Monroe!


      I like how they present "yodeling too!" as if it was not a bug, but a feature. If I had a band, I would insist we learned this song. Yodeling would be replaced with an electric guitar. And more cowbell? No, MORE TUBA.

      Here's another repeat, and many thanks to Kitsplut for putting this on a CD for me. "Rah Rah Rasputin, Lover of the Russian Queen!"


      Just a small change from disco to even worse disco--It's a "song poem." Suckers would send their brilliant lyrics to people who would make very limited edition 45s (limited to how much you wanted to pay) and they'd record it. It gets points for being the only disco song that tried to make every line rhyme with "disco." Yes, the second line already sinks to "I am going to buy some Crisco."


      Disco, for those of you lucky enough to live through its domination of everything, spawned a lot of kids records. A lot for a genre that was basically designed for people having sex after snorting coke. Here is a sample from "Sesame Street Fever."


      Are you playing this loud at work yet?

      I remember a vacation to Cape Cod in the 1960s, when my dad had to pull the station wagon over because he, and everyone else in the car, was laughing so hard at Napoleon the Fourteenth's only hit in the world:


      After all that, you may have noticed that I've subliminally GIVEN YOU THE WORST EARWORM EVER! Yes, and here it is!


      Well...maybe not.

      "It's a world of hatred, a world of fear! It's a world where death suddenly appears! Those are so few who care, that you all must beware,
      It's a Fucked World After All!"




      Seen while taking the used litter to the dumpster: an Audi. The Audi symbol is 4 concentric, conjoined circles. But there was something off about it. When I got closer, it was done in a similar font, but said "DOPE." I guess that's how the guy made enough money to buy an Audi.

      My dreams are vividly detailed, like a big budget movie with a large cast, great set design, and weird props. Almost all of it is nothing I've seen in real life. I don't know who the people are; if it's about a job, it's some amalgram of ones from 25 or more years ago (usually KB Toys and Sam Goody). Even the cats aren't my cats.
      So it was odd Sunday when I had a very long dream set in my actual workplace, featuring the store's owner and our new hire nodding off from heroin.( I wasn't there, but that's what happened Friday--he took a 70 minute lunch, came back nodding off, and eventually puked in the trash can by the registers in front of a line of customers. What is WITH my job and the heroin users it hires?)
      In the dream, I was taking in a giant Budweiser order, and the delivery guys kept smashing the product they were bringing in. The store was flooded with spilled beer, and they just kept smashing more through incompetence. As I started to wake up, I groggily thought "...What day is today? It must be Tuesday, we don't get deliveries on Saturdays, why would I dream about a delivery, but I don't remember Sunday at all...No, it's Sunday."
      I got to work and the owner was emptying a mop bucket. "It's a mess in the cooler!" Seems we'd had a giant Bud order, and the driver did a "lazy man's load," when someone puts too much on a handtruck just to maybe do one less load overall. The owner heard "OH SHIT FUCK!!" CRASH and yep. The driver had smashed 5 6-pack cases and a 30 pack. The cooler was flooded with beer. It looked like a rice paddy. "Whoa," I said, "WHOA."
      I even had thought when I was fully awake, "I sure hope that's not a prophetic dream." And this morning's A Word A Day email had the quote "We all have our time machines. Some take us back, they're called memories. Some take us forward, they're called dreams." -Jeremy Irons
      I think I'll try to dream about winning lottery jackpots from now on.




      Today began at 7AM with the cats rampaging through the condo. It became bad enough that I got up to say "I had to get up at 7 the last 2 days for work, I'm not doing it today!" If I'd known that it would happen on the hour, every hour, I would've shut the bedroom door to at least localize it.
      The y had food, water, and clean boxes, so no idea what that was about. They get wet food, but currently enormous trencherman DJ only nibbles on that, so, no idea what it was about beyond beyond "Cat Emergency." I fed them, got ready for work, thought "Golly but I'm thirsty" and drank a pint of ice water very quickly. I sat at the computer for about 2 minutes, suddenly thought "I think I'm gonna throw uuuuLLLPP" and puked a bit. I made it to the bathroom, emptying my stomach, and saw that...I'd puked on myself! Like a 6 month old baby or a 19 year old frat boy. I thought, "What a great day this has started out to be. Can't wait to see what happens at work."
      But it turned out not to be so bad. However: Young's Syndrome has again raised its ugly head and my gorge. "NOW! Just add water!"


      To continue talking about puking: Who, in the GREATEST COUNTRY OF EVER, which apparently is also terrible so it needs to Great againer, is going to watch Monday's presidential debate?
      I won't get home from work until 30 minutes after it starts, but I think I'll stream it on my cheap tablet while doing regular browsing on the main PC. I can catch the highlights--or lowlights--as after it ends, on Facebook or anywhere. Definitely when I have lunch with my Mom on Weds. I've already emailed her "Remember: mute the sound and take deep breaths before the chest pains begin!"
      I think Tronald Dumpster will be annihilated through sound logic, but his supporters haven't spent a lot of time living in LogicLand. So it won't matter. The LESS presidential he acts, the higher his polls will go. He could call her "Prune Cunt" and the whole South would vote for him.
      Candidates prepare for these debates by practicing against someone acting as their opponent. I read that Clinton has a problem, in that she can't find anyone to practice against, as no one has any clue what Donald's going to do. On his side, he's said that he's not going to even try to prepare. Just speak from his gut. No prep for anything important, that's what I want in a POTUSA! "We have nuclear weapons, why haven't we used them? LAUNCH!"
      Does anyone else realize that "the gut" is very near "the colon"?


      I was almost to work when a van in the left lane stopped to take a left into the cemetery. The SUV behind him said "I don't want to stop for 2 seconds," and cut in front of me with apparently no concept of "rear view mirrors." I slammed on my brakes, and that's the only thing that kept him from putting me in the cemetery.
      As to the debate, Mom said "I know I will try to watch it but doubt I will be able to take much of it. I certainly will have the remote in my hand." I decided to skip it--I was working until it began, then had to stop at CVS, so by the time I had fed the cats and settled in, it'd be half over. Then a rabidly anti-Trump coworker began a screaming match against a pro-Trump customer. Interestingly, she's black, and so was he. I left the register area, but his calmly stated argument was "They're all crooks!" which is no argument at all. I really don't think political arguments belong at work, especially with customers. They finally both left, and she called back asking if we'd found her glasses. The other coworker was sure she'd put them in her purse, but was so white-hot with rage she didn't remember putting them there.
      On the drive home, a car was doing below the speed limit in the passing lane, with a truck to pass that was going the same speed. I coasted in behind him, then braked to put some distance between us. Every time I did, he slowed down more. It's really hard not to tailgate someone who keeps doing that. In a 65 zone, he dropped below 50, apparently to just be an asshole. The other car in the right lane passed him on the right, and if you're purposely blocking the passing lane, I feel that you want to be passed on the right. So I did it as well. Then the guy finally pulled to the right lane--after the red and blue roof lights behind him came on. "As soon as I get on the main highway, I'm getting a ticket" I thought. When I did, he just switched lanes and turned the lights off. I remembered that I was the second car to pass on the right, and that it's illegal to block the passing lane in this state. Cop was trying to tell all 3 of us to cut out that shit.
      As I was feeding the cats, I heard the sound of a running faucet from the bathroom. But it was coming from the cabinet underneath the sink. Not for long, but long enough to cover half the floor. Great! The plumbing leaks! I have silicone sealant and caulk, so I'll see what I can do tomorrow besides throw down paper towels and put a plastic cup under it to catch the dripping.
      So, yeah, blood pressure successfully raised without watching the debate.


      I guess that in the debate, Donald sniff Trump didn't do so sniff the best ever, believe me. Sad!
      Trump blamed his performance, sniffing thusly: "They gave me a defective mic! Wonder, was that on purpose?" Must've been one of those microphones that lets people hear what you just said.
      Seen on Facebook: a rant against Clinton, which inevitably included "She can't be president, she's a career politician!" Is that just a USA thing? Saying that you're qualified for a job because you've never done it? That's like me saying "I'm not a career heart surgeon, I'm a liquor store manager! Ready for your triple bypass?" Does anyone run for the House, Senate or President because they don't want a career in politics? Are you a hobbyist politician? Do you apply for jobs by spending the entire interview screaming "FUCK THIS PLACE"?
      There were a lot of comments, but this one stuck out:
      "Umm Hillary??? No way!! I just vote for one Who hasnt commit a crime. That's Trump is who I will vote."


      That's Trump who is also who I vote too!! Unles OBUMMER try take guns mine away frist!!!







      Marvel's Guardians of the Galaxy: A walking tree, and a talking raccoon.
      Disney's Pocahontas: A TALKING tree and a WALKING raccoon!
      Makes you think, doesn't it?


      Last night I was awkened by puking. In this house, that's not a reason to jump out of bed.
      Around 3AM, I got up to pee, and tiptoed carefully. Where is it? I can even smell it--ah, on the bedroom desk. Well, now I knew who did it. Only Byron hangs out up there at night.
      There was a lot. I idly thought "Looks like the trail mix I spilled a week ago." After mopping it up, it hit me--where was Byron?
      I looked everywhere, and couldn't find hi OH SHIT. Cats aren't going to eat trail mix, but what if there were raisins in it?!
      I checked the puke, and it was definitely the new dry food I'd put in the bowl that day, and B must've eaten too much too fast.
      I called in Detective DJ: "Where's Byron?" He went to the bedroom and looked at the clothes closet. It took a flashlight and a while, but waaay in the back was Byron. I had to touch him to make it was him. It was great to find him, even if he hissed at me, but I worried that he might be going back to self-exile. And why would he hide just because he puked? Was he okay?
      I slept as best as I could, then got up earlier than usual to serve wet food. Byron wasn't anywhere, even the closet, but then appeared. He turned down the wet food, which never happens. I went back to bed. At least he wasn't hiding!
      And 2 hours later he was. DJ was hanging out in the living room, so I knew he must be--yep, behind the bookcase. Where the Exile started 3 years ago. I then left for work for, including commute, 10 hours. I tried not to overthink things.
      And of course, I did. The last 2 hours made me increasingly worried. What if he really was sick? What if I get home and find him, and he isn't moving? Or breathing?! I closed the store and headed home.
      The light I take a left at that is normally red for 30 seconds max was still red 4 minutes later--a very long 4 minutes--when I turned right and pulled a u-turn. I raced up the stairs, hoping he'd be in one of his usual spots. He wasn't. Or behind the bookcase. I found him in the closet again. Looking at me. He trotted right out and devoured his wet food. "Thanks for the heart attack, Byron" I said. In my panic, I'd forgotten that I knew if something had happened to him, Killsy and particularly DJ would act differently.
      And now, he's resting by my feet, as normal as Byron can be normal. And my new motto: You can't say you truly love and care for someone until you've willingly shifted through their puke.

      High Hitler: how Nazi drug abuse steered the course of history


      My work jeans are ventilated in the crotch. So I replaced them at KMart.
      Signs just past the doors read "The Blue Light is BACK!...with a VENGEANCE" Or "Like Fleas on a Dog" or "Your Recurrent Syphilis," I didn't pay it that much attention. At checkout, the cashiers were wearing Blue Light colored t-shirts that said "ATTENTION KMART SHOPPERS" on them. I thought it was amusing. Then I noticed the back of one cashier's shirt: "Your One-Stop Shopping for the Zombie Apocalypse." Another's read "ERRMEHGERRD SO MUCH SAVING" thus combining 2 tired memes. The third woman's read "shh Ninjas Are Everywhere" and I don't even know what that means.
      I'm going to apply there, but only take a job if I can get a shirt that says on the back "ALL YOUR BLUE LIGHT ARE BELONG TO US." Or says on the front "Shop Smart! Shop S-Mart" and on the back, "HERE'S MY BOOMSTICK. Groovy"

      If you haven't seen Captain America: Civil War by now, you probably have no interest in seeing it. So--spoiler alert, not? At the end of the final battle between Captain America and Iron Man, Stark says "That shield's not yours! My father made it!" and Cap drops it to the floor, and walks away.
      In the comics, Captain Rogers quits (after Watergate) and is fired (in the Reagan years). The Captain is supposed to be the embodiment of what America should be. I suppose that "Captain US Constitution and Bill of Rights" would be to long a title. But he's also not called "Captain American Exceptionalism Racist Xenophobic Tool of the Military-Industrial Complex" either. I was late into reading Captain America comics simply because of his nationalistic name and as a kid, I lived in the era of the Viet Nam War and "AMERICA: LOVE IT OR LEAVE IT" bumper stickers. But the book was done by East Coast Elitist Bleeding Heart Liberals (as I assume they'd be called today), and Steve Rogers fought for what was right, not right wing.
      Hey, when Reagan fired him and made him turn over his shield--wasn't he replaced by a new Captain America? Who, in those 80s days of Rambo, was a violent jingoistic asshole? Is the next movie appearance of Rogers going to be Stark giving him the shield back, or is it going to be Stark giving it to U.S.Agent?
      I don't recall the character's name, but he since got his powers from what were basically super-steroids and became a brutal rageaholic, let's just assume he was named DinkyScrotum McBackAcne. That last link goes to the Marvel wiki, and this, the most perfect of paragraphs:

      ...You can calm a raging psychopath down by shooting him in the butt? With an arrow? How about offering him some chamomile tea and a lovely scone? I hope that, after the Thin Man killed that ruler of Madeitupistan, Nick and Nora Charles and their pooch Asta ruled with a just but firm hand. Hands firmly gripping their breakfast martinis.
      "U.S.Agent: Making America Take it in the Butt Again"!


      Twin Peaks Tarot Deck.


      I'm watching a slim robotic hero battle a giant, angry, frog-faced monster that screams a lot through its blowhole!
      Ultraman, 1966 series. The presidential debate hasn't begun yet!
      The Japanese title in the subtitles is "THE APPEARANCE OF THE BLOWHOLE MONSTER GAMAKUJIRA," but "The Pearl Oyster Protection Directive" is the title on the DVD (and you can watch it there). The director must be getting a bit bored of doing kids' TV shows, because there were 5 scenes in the first 4 minutes in which the camera filmed actors reflected in mirrors. I actually liked that.
      Girl Science Patrol agent likes shiny objects! So she stops at a pearl store. Why are pearls so expensive? Boy says "I bet you think there's a monster eating pearls!' Girl says "YES! There must be!" Hey, Boy: you live in the Ultraman universe. If I woke up one day to discover that my car battery was dead, my first thought would to be to blame it on a giant monster that eats electricity, then notice I'd left the car door open.
      "Honey-san, where are my keys?"
      "I don't know--wait, did you drink all the milk?"
      (stare briefly at each other in horror) "It's KEYOLACTOSAUR!!"
      The monster is a frog-faced screaming asshole. He overturns a truck full of oysters, all of which are filled with costume jewelry pearls, and then sucks them up with his goofy vacuum cleaner hose tongue. Hey, it's time for the boring part! Where the Science Patrol attacks with their mighty air force of 2 planes. Has there ever been a monster movie/TV show where Godzilla, Jason, or any monster ever died from the first attack? When this fails, they camp down on a rocky island with Pearl Jammer making gurgling noises, because (I should point out that the DVD, despite also being from Shout Factory, is dubbed, while the online version isn't) "It's a COW!" Pearls are its cud, and Maxi Pearl is digesting them. They actually did an FX for this. There was a guy whose job was "Make the critter's tummy look like it's digesting a lot of fiber." There obviously was also the job description of "Make it Look Like Model Planes Aren't On Wires Technician." This must've been a thing you put on your resume. FILM EXEC: "Hmm...says here you've moved model planes on wires in a lot of Godzilla movies?" APPLICANT: "Yes! But...I admit to starting on Gamera." EXEC: (laughs) "Who of us didn't start at the bottom? HIRED!"
      Big frog monster also has a crocodile snout, and Muppet google eyes that are painted so they always look up. He looks like he's always saying "WHATEVER." Lady, because she's bleeding from her wherever, tries to tell the monster not to digest pearls. "Who bows to a monster?" asks her coworker. She says "Men wouldn't understand this feeling!" Wimmen! Golddiggers, am I right? Just grab them right by the pearls! The Boys all make weird faces.
      The monster awakes. His tail looks like Pac-Man. No wonder he eats the pearls! Sadly, tail does not go "wakka-wakka-wakka."
      Bombing him makes his blowhole splooge! The upward-cast eyes--well, if you ever wanted to see a kaiju's O-face, here ya go. The SP shoots him with balloons, no really. This way, they can follow him when he submerges a mile from fucking shore. Floaty balloons. They now attack with missiles, which are launched by dials they stuck in a cardboard box. El Monstrosito sufaces, and again the rolled eyes--he's all "Come ON! I just eat damn pearls, why's that a crime?!"
      "Begin the electric net attack!" They turn the knob on the Radio Shack 8-Track player they found in the Salvation Army dumpster and a giant net appears, linked by ropes between the 2 supersonic jets WHAT HOW DID THAT HAPPEN? All those missiles fired at pointy-blank range, no use, but they scoop it up in a big net and flies it away. The monster must not weigh much, maybe measured in metric chihuahua tons. The net is electrified for attack. This goes on, like most of the show's action sequences, so long that you may have seen part of it in a past life and are only just now catching up. But not as long as the pearl digestion scene did, with its SFX rumbly-tummy. Did I just type that?
      As you're saying "Drop the net with the monster on the pointy rocks of the island!" it gets dropped into the sea about 30 feet away, and the plane crashes on the pointy rocks. Of course, it crashes because it's piloted by the guy who's secretly Ultraman, so he's fine. He lost a plane and a billion dollars, now he won't to pay taxes on the plane! Because he's smart!
      This leads to a not-at-all gratuitous scene of a bunch of hot Japanese girls in swimsuits being (uselessly) menaced by the monster. I think for like 2 months, it's just a lot of screaming girls in bikinis, who make sure to run away carrying only the essentials, such as their purses and beach umbrella. C'mon, Gamakujira! They'll let you if you're a star!
      Their convertible that seats 6 gets stuck in the mud, and I guess they get away? Because, while grabbing their pic-a-nic baskets, they left behind the pearl necklaces they wore to the beach. In 1966! Marge Simpson totally stole her look from them! Mr Picky Eater feasts on the necklace, although given the fact he's the size of a battleship, it would be like you or me licking a bit of corn of the cob off of our teeth and saying "Whoa, I'm stuffed!" Girl says: "What a horrible monster! Going after the shine of pearls, just like a woman!" This inspires the Guys to attack the monster wiiiith...a pearl bomb! Like the balloons and electro-net, just a thing they have in their plane. Did you know that hogs will eat snakes? This is why I carry a spare hog in my car trunk! I'm safe from snakes, but dang, my car smells.
      The monster, whose name is Tony Perlowski, begins to explode from the inside.The pearl bomb...I guess it's a thing monsters eat? Through their blowhole? I don't know, I ain't no biologist! The bikini babes bounce back and are now saved. I did not say they were saved earlier, I did not say that, believe me.
      The monster ejaculates from his blowhole. I mean like, whoa, money shot over the entire prefecture. All over his own face. We're told this is how Bukkakemon protects himself and "His jaws can now bite through steel!" So they shoot a rocket up its ass.
      No. Really. They shoot a rocket up his ass, and Loserpalooza flies around helplessly. Again, what does it weigh? A thousand hamsters worth? This scene is worth the price of watching this (begins around the 20 minute mark). He flies around, and Ultraman finally appears. He rams Ron Pearlmonster, and explodes him, the end, that was your big monster fight.
      Epilog: GIRLS SURE LOVE TO SHOP! Grab them by the Visa!


      I would've been better off just watching Ultraman last night. 930 is around my normal Sunday bedtime, so I watched the debate, but didn't retain a lot.
      Typical exchange: COOPER: I'm holding up an orange. What color is this orange?
      CLINTON: I passed laws that help all the people of America, everywhere in America, even on the Moon, I am here to fight for you like Lincoln, I shall now smile a lot, I would smile even if a snapping turtle clamped onto my ankles.
      TRUMP: ISIS. ISIS beheads people, they use their heads to go bowling, it's a disaster, everyone in America is already dead, for 30 years she has given lollipops to ISIS, I have a plan. It involves Hilary's emails, and also burning her at the stake, and not a Trump steak, the best steaks ever, believe me. Now I will scowl like I'm passing a kidney stone the size of Gibraltar. Also: SNIFF SNIFF SNIFF.
      They just gave their canned responses with little relevance to the actual question, although Clinton tailored her remarks better. Trump didn't do as badly as the first debate. But what could he have done that was worse? Fuck a dead squirrel? The only interesting thing was watching Trump trying not to explode, stomping around behind Clinton, twitching his face, and frequently grabbing one wrist with the other hand, as if he could barely keep from murder. Huh, reminds me of something, I wonder what...


      We'll see how things shake out over the next few days. Here's as good a summation of the debate as you'll get.


      I did the Usual with Her, junk shopping. Jess and I only do it in 2 places. My mind went on autopilot and I drove towards the place we weren't going, not catching it until I'd skipped 2 exits. I apologised for being 20 minutes late, but she just said "It's not like I've never kept you waiting!"
      Putnam has changed. A new store or two, and the YMCA project, delayed for years, may have now stopped. The Pink House, long closed and renamed by us The Mold House, still rots away. It's now so gross from the busted, leaking radiator spewing mildew that you wouldn't go in there even if you were Donald Trump's soul.
      Just our usual good time together, catching up and cracking wise. She said "Ooh, Tales of the Crypt! I loved that show!" I said "I think this was the most terrifying monster they ever had," and pointed at a picture of Reagan.
      The usual. I bought nothing, she bought a lot of very cheap things. Almost all were old children's books about kittens, a 1970 issue of "Walt Disney Presents," and a 1971 magazine called "Sex to Sexty." It was naughty cartoons with naked ladies and sex. She'll put it with her 1966 Playboy in her coffin table, which is a coffee table except it's a coffin. I'm sure you've read this page long enough to know that Jess is a little bit odd.
      At our usual Putnam lunch place, Something Special, we looked through her collection of cards. bought for $4 for a bag of, I dunno, a hundred? All sent mail, all to the same family, and almost all dated 1957. I mentioned that they were sent before I was born, which led to a conversation about the 18 year difference in our ages. We've known each other for 19 years, we've been friends for literally half her life!
      We shared memories and laughed, shared other memories and didn't. Serious to laughing and back. The Usual. The Usual Awesomeness one shares with a good friend.



      I had one of those days off where I just sleep all day. No reason, beyond "I'm tired." Happens every 2 or 3 months.
      After crawling out of bed at 5PM, I watched Ultraman. I wasn't planning on a scene-by-scene commentary like last week, so here's the plot:
      A Kenny--you know, a kaiju-obsessed little boy in ridiculously short pants--draws a monster on a concrete sewer pipe. Because of "light factions of the cosmic rays," all 2D drawings now become ALIVE, and his shitty graffiti turns in to an ACTUAL HUGE MONSTER that looks remarkably like a used condom. This hideous crime against reality promptly DESTROYS TOKYO AND KILLS THOUSANDS actually, it just lies down and takes a nap.
      Of course, Our Heroes, the psychopaths of the Science Patrol, proceed to bomb the fucking shit out of some giant banana slug catchin' some Zs. This outrages the planaria so much, that it wanders away and disappears. I mean literally fades away.
      Whoa! Exciting!
      This prompts our hideous child gang of brats, all in booty shorts, to draw a bigger monster on a sewer pipe, because...Wait. Everything 2D comes alive? Shouldn't billboard pictures become alive? Or Banksy graffiti? How about SOME 12 YEAR OLD BOY'S SPRAYPAINTED DRAWING OF A DICK?! Or is it just restricted to concrete sewer pipes? (Which are guarded by a guy with the phoniest paste-on mustache ever. Shouldn't his FAKE MUSTACHE COME ALIVE?)
      Ignoring the science of this, this new and bigger and more vicious monster stomps into to town, and ruthlessly
      ...takes a nap.
      Then the brats are somehow on a dam (I think these episodes were longer in the original Japanese. Or involved a lot of opium dreams). Ultraman proceeds to beat the shit out of a monster that has literally done nothing but sleep. Dude, just put his hand in some warm water. The horrible brats who magicked this lazy thing into existence beg Ultraman to not hurt him. So, after beating the shit out of it, Ultraman flies it into the airless void of space and tells the little jerks to "Look for him in the STARS," by which he means there's now a constellation called Sleepy Kaiju. Or maybe some orbiting corpse, asleep forever.
      So it's a battle against a monster whose only crime is Sleeping in a Public Space. It's like some gentrified city where, instead of putting spikes on the park benches so the homeless can't sleep there, they put land mines that kill passersby.
      Watch it here, if you think I'm exaggerating.



      Ultraman, "The Science Patrol to Outer Space." You'd think that there'd be more words to that title, but there
      This involves an astronaut, who goes to space in a rocket (despite the SP having, you know, actual rocket ships). He is wearing a space suit, and under it, a 3-piece suit. Not wearing a tie? Forget the Third Encounter, the aliens won't talk to you after the Second one!
      An alien baseball lodges it self in the rocket's butt and makes it fly around. This is now the SECOND time "rocket up the butt flies something around" has appeared. Out of two.
      Using a translator gadget that a character invented last month, we find out the bug-headed, paddle-footed aliens called the Baltans are behind this! Nothing is actually translated, unless the Baltan's voices are translated in Dalek. (THEY TALK LIKE THIS! THIIIIS!)
      Speaking of speaking, if you skip to the 7 minute mark, you can hear a Science Patroller making disgusting "NOM NOM" noises. If you click to the 12 minute point, you can hear the Baltan say (direct quote):
      "UURT. Moo! Duh. WHA! WHA! Mra. MRAA? Whoosh!"
      ASTRO-TIE-WEARING MAN: "OH! You're going to enter my consciousness! Don't do that, DON'T DO THAT!" BALTAN "MWAH HA HA!" acid trip ensues
      Go click on the link. That's what happens. I don't have to make this shit up, it's already there.
      Now, Baltan is in Tie Astronaut's hand, the size of a Pez dispenser PLEASE READ PREVIOUS SENTENCE ABOUT MAKING IT UP
      Major Tom Tie blows mini Baltran from his hand, who then regains his full size. He flies to Earth in his butt-plug spaceship. After a brief glimpse of Frank Lloyd Wright's outhouse, SP is flying a spaceship. It launches because of its superior design, Estes model rocket engines and visible strings. But the butt-plug reaches Earth, and oh no, it's an ovum! Multiple Baltrans are birthed by it, while making a squeedely-squee-diddle-dee noise.
      WHY WOULD I MAKE SHIT LIKE THIS UP?! Watch the YouTube!
      Dialog: "MMM! Uh hmm OOH!" followed by "OH! Oh OH!" What am I, your UltraStenographer?
      Lady SP agent talks into a shoe.
      Idiot SP guy shoots the babbling Baltrans buzzing his ship with a ray gun that fires from a hole in his 2000KPM ship, from behind a wad of cotton. The Baltrans go back to the Space Ovary. Astro-Tie has been rescued--still in his perfectly pressed and dry cleaned suit--but has been consciousness-entered. "AHHH-HAHAHAHA!" is what he says, and his terrible laughter causes this other SP ship to wobble--wait, did I not say there's another ship? This one has a lot of rivets, because the airless vacuum of space fears rivets.
      Crash landing! I guess, we didn't get to see it. "UHHH--mmm, ow," followed by Suit Man waving adorably from a rock, then laughing "HAAAAAA...HAHAHAH!" and the hero grunting, this ep has some Pulitzer Prize eligible dialog is all I'm saying.
      Well, 2 minutes to go, so--ULTRAMAN! Baltran Giant deflects his Stink-Eye Beam with rearview mirrors, Ultra responds with--wait. Are those pixie boots? Is Ultra wearing shoes stolen from Santa's elves? Rudolph:
      "We are Santa's elves!
      Stole these boots ourselves!
      No toes on our feet, Santa loves frostbite!
      Death to the Jolly Elf!" (uprising begins)
      Baltran tries to kill Ultra with a big fart. Ultra cuts him in half with a flying donut.
      The Baltran sperm are back, wreaking havoc to stock footage! Also, Giant Baltran is back for Reasons. Ultra's donut attack fails, so he gives him his Laser Eyeball Cruller. This also fails! So Ultra does both again, and now they work. Some SP guys are trapped on Planet R (wait, what?) but are rescued by some other SPs on a ship I've never seen before (Whaaat...). The End.
      Do you know how much harder it would be to actually make this shit up? How many plays do think Shakespeare could get away with, if 2 in a row included the stage direction "Exeunt left, with a rocket up his butt"?


      It took some research, but I've found Shakespeare's First Folio v0.1, which includes the lines: "Once more into my britches, my friends!"-- Richard Rocketbutt the Third, and "Out, out, damn Sputnik!"--Lady MacButtnik.

      This Ultraman episode/descent into madness is titled "Passport to INFINITY, man! WHOA HOLY POPPING POPE WITH A BANDSAW, WHAT THE FUCK THE FUCK THEY SAID DON'T TAKE THE BROWN ACID BUT I DID!"
      Like all Ultraman eps, it begins normally, as a guy named Sir Yesterday uses a tack hammer on a space turd. Then...I'm not going to try. This was made around the same time Ralph Bakshi was doing his Spider-Man cartoon Dementia 5. He saw this and said, "I thought we were on ALL the drugs! What are these Japanese smoking, expired sushi? GET ME SOME!"
      The space turd now looks like Deadpool passed a giant kidney stone. It becomes...umm...thong underpants? Look out Trump, this pussy's gonna grab YOU!
      Then it starts getting weird.
      I will say no more. Except that Kenny appears, wearing a fedora, a long sleeve shirt, little booty shorts, black dress socks with...Well, they're on his feet, so let's call them "shoes." I leave the rest for you to discover. I will point out that I watched this under the influence of the Weed with Roots in Hell. And I didn't need to. This shit is fucked up. I will say that if you thought, as I did, "I sure hope I get through this without seeing a space turd and a kidney stone noisily fucking," you won't.

      Okay, this is kinda mean (after the Trump Toys bit)


      Note that this page has updated frequently since 10/14, despite what my FTP tells me.


      Another quote that may be things only said between me and a cat: "DJ, simple physics says that your butt and mine can't occupy the same space at the same time!"<


      If he thinks the election's rigged, why is he running?
      If it's rigged, why is he asking people to vote for him?
      Does he not get that when he loses and refuses to concede, he still lost, and doesn't get to be Half-President for 4 years? There are legal reasons he could dispute the results, but "But I WANT IT I WANT IT!!!" isn't one.
      Yeah, he's planning a thing called Trump News, for people who think Fox News isn't coming in clearly enough through their tinfoil hat. He should do a reality show instead, and call it "The Sorest Loser."       


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