When a Stranger Texts, Featuring Judge Judy!

So there I was, sitting at home, minding my own business, trying to get some work done when I get this mysterious text message from an unrecognized number.

Hilarity ensues.

Observe, all:

 

I don’t know anyone by the name of, “Alisha,” let alone one with a cute ass…Or was I the one who has the cute ass? I think I need to buy Alisha a punctuation.

Instead I decided to just go with it…

I decided to play it cool here. A suspicion was beginning to well up inside me that Alisha expected me attend her friend’s party, so I decided to give her a lukewarm response.

As predicted, Alisha counters by announcing her intent to get inebriated, then inquires about my well-being:

I maintain a relaxed demeanor and wait for the veiled invitation that’s sure to come.

My assumption was that Alisha was into older guys and Jerry Springer. I considered breaking out Matlock, but decided instead to combine Matlock with Jerry Springer to form a two-person Voltron (i.e. the Brad Neely technique), resulting in the Judge Judy counterplay:

This is where Alisha demonstrates surprising resilience, undoubtedly bolstered by the Drunken Booty-Call Bulwark™ (DBCB) defense. My improvised Easter Island emoji didn’t stand a chance – oh the carnage!

I realized that Alisha was no slouch, perhaps even – dare I say it, a pro! The way she masterfully rolled with the blow, Fédération internationale des fessiers appelants perhaps? Maybe even a Grand Master??

It was then that I decided to risk it all on the dreaded Boer Goat Gambit!

It is like that scene from Once Upon a Time in the West: I’m a Charlie Bronson, and Alisha is the Frank, and the Boer Goat is my Colt Single Action Army delivering the .45 caliber coup de grâce.

But Frank, errr Alisha wasn’t going to leave us without one last death rattle:

I decided to reply to her rhetorical question with a matter-of-fact answer, then continue expressing my admiration for Judge Judy. I had prepared a 6-page story detailing the adventures I got into on my quest to seek out the new KFC Zinger sandwich I was going use to get Ms. Kitts back into the barn.

Sadly, the lesson endeth here 🙁 …

I haven’t heard from Alisha since. I wonder what she’s doing now? I wonder how her baby sister’s prom went? So many unanswered questions. As I write this, I’m left with a deep sense of gestalt.

The way I figure it, right about now she’d be waking up, fixin’ to recover from her hangover with a Zinger from KFC and sweetened ice tea…

Alisha, wherever you are, whoever you are, know that you will always have a special place on my internets!

In Memoriam

~ Alisha ~

You Too Can Get to Pork Adobe!

FIRSTIES!

So yesterday, I went to show my brother-in-law my YouberTuber video of me scoring on Porker: The Quest for Tastiness. I had put up some videos a few days ago, and noticed a new one someone else made…

That’s right, somebody we don’t know actually played this game and posted a video of it! That could be the most amazing thing that happened to me all day yesterday, up to and including the handy I got from that Thai restaurant hostess!

They almost made it to Chairman Mao’s Red-Braised Pork Belly Level, but fell a few acorns short. This is a struggle of Sisyphean proportions… They may never get another chance as there are as of yet, more nights to grind…grinder…night grinders…I feel that that should be a sandwich of some kind…

We Need to Establish the Cetacean Nation

We need to establish the ‘Cetacean Nation’. I nominate myself to be the United Nations representative to the cetacean nation. Then we will force the white man to give back what he has taken from us.

It is both a philosophical and cultural imperative to perform the seaweed dance prior to making contact with the dolphin spirits. Otherwise, our bodies will be unprepared to receive their awesome powers.

I, for one, have been performing a daily ritual of deep, transcendental meditation, followed by exactly three jimmy flips, two half-berpies and a Krispy Kreme enema to sharpen my senses.

Shoulder Thing That Goes Up – Part I

“I actually don’t know what a barrel shroud [is], I believe it’s a shoulder thing that goes up.”

– Carolyn McCarthy, House of Representatives for New York’s 4th Congressional District, 1997-2015

Barrel Shroud? Check! Folding Stock? Check! Detachable Magazine? Check! Pistol Grip? Check! OMG it's an assault weapon! Ban it!
Because everyone knows that you can define something as an ‘Assault Weapon‘ based on its cosmetic features!

The Robot’s Journey

So there’s this infographic goin’ around the interwebs about “The Hero’s Journey”. There seemed to be some strange parallels between it and my weekend, which went down like this:

therobotsjourney

True story!

Lies, Damned Lies and Statistics

A few years ago, I read a book by Joel Best called, “Damned Lies and Statistics.

The title is based on a phrase popularized by Mark Twain, though it’s origin isn’t firmly established….goes something like this:

“There are three kinds of lies: Lies, Damned Lies and Statistics”

The book began with what Best described as, “The Worst Social Statistic Ever.” The quote was, “Every year since 1950, the number of American children gunned down has doubled.”

When taken literally, that would mean that 35 trillion American children were gunned down between 1950-1995. What the author meant to say was that the total number of child deaths by firearms in 1950 was half what it was in the year 1995.

Surprisingly, the US population grew by some 73% from 1950 to 1995, so it would follow that other counts, such as deaths would also be about double. Point being that statistics should not be accepted blindly. That brings me to a new one I saw today floating around the interwebs:

More Americans were killed by guns since 1968 than on the battlefields of all the wars in American history.

The specific figures are based on estimates from PolitiFact.com:

  • Firearms-related deaths between 1968 and 2015 was about 1,516,863
  • The total number of casualties related to all wars in US history was approximately 1,396,733

I’m not being paid to do this, I don’t have a professional research staff, and my Terminator Robot isn’t programmed to do that for me…yet. So, rather than gather and correlate 47 years-worth of data, I’m just going to pick on 1968’s mortality rates instead.

According to the US Census Bureau, the population that year was approximately ~200,700,000. Referencing the Vital Statistics of the United States 1968 Volume II – Mortality Part A , the total death count was 1,930,082.

That’s over half a million more deaths than all of the American casualties of every US war in American history combined! Impressive, huh?

Of those, 9,425 people reportedly died from “firearms and explosives.” It doesn’t break that figure down to gun-related deaths only, nor does it distinguish between homicide, suicide, war or accidents. That’s accounts for a whole 0.488% of the total death count that year. This is about 1/6th the number of motor-vehicle deaths, which came to 54,862, or about 5.7 times as many deaths by vehicle as there were by firearms and explosives.

The point (if there is one) is this: I can quote unqualified, out-of-context statistics based on incomplete/erroneous “data” to make bogus conclusions too!

In Summary

  • Think for yourself. Don’t rely on eye-grabby statistics
  • Do your own homework and take other facets into consideration
  • Terminator robots aren’t a good source of important information…yet

Meat Puppetry: Photographs

“The last time we [Joe and Jim] were close enough to be photographed together, a gravitational singularity occurred. This resulted in the destruction of a small convenience store and goat farm in eastern Oregon. It’s for the best that we don’t post pictures now. Think of the goats.” – Big Jim, August 24, 2015

Robots

The other night, I was suspected of being a robot, not-so-cleverly disguised as a person while chatting with my new friend on the ‘twit. I assured Ali that I did not consort with the robit kind, nor could my Dyson vacuum with the pet cleaner attachment build a Terminator…yet.

This seemed like a good opportunity to warn Ali of the dangers of PowerPoint, but alas, Ali was unconvinced :(. I tried to call Ed Tufte, but he wasn’t home, so I couldn’t assemble the Psychic Technical-Writer Friends Network. and had to settle for a traditional fact-finding committee.

They couldn’t reach a quorum, and just when I thought all hope was lost, my astrologer told me that my metachlorian count exceeded my cholesterol level, and that I would die of the diabetus within two years. This is good news, because that means I won’t live to see the birth of AI and subsequent robot uprising!

Thank Dog for small favors.