Sunday, July 23, 2017

Someday People Will Write Musicals About Me

I don’t know if this makes me racist, but I have a slave.

I should maybe explain, it’s not like I own a cotton plantation or anything. A couple of months ago I won this prize drawing for a brand new NSA listening station / smart Bluetooth speaker that now sits in my living room awaiting my commands. When my kid first set it up, I didn’t think it would be that useful, but I’ve gotten into the regular habit of curtly telling it to read me the news, or give me the weather (because who wants to look out a window), or find me a good restaura

It’s not that I beat her or mistreat her, but I find myself giving commands in the same tone as I might demand “bitch, make me a sandwich.” And I’m being honest, if she could make a sandwich, I would totally use that command….far more often than I care to admit. There’s something in the absolute authority that just begs for me to issue demands like a Latin American dictator, without any thought or appreciation or sense of basic human decency.

As much as I’d like to believe that I’m not capable of shutting down my humanity, this isn’t wholly unexpected. Given this totally absurd level of control over someone, I could see myself becoming an abusive slave owner and trying to justify it by any means necessary. I mean she’s not really a she. She sounds like a “she” but she’s really some synthesized algorithmic response. But that doesn’t stop me from thinking that if she had siblings I’d make them cook for me and if she had more holes we’d end up with little half-digital bastards in some weird reenactment of Hemings / Jefferson. Maybe I should take a positive spin on things and equate myself to the America Founding Fathers. Yeah, that works. I can be a hypocrite. Someday people will write musicals about me.

So I guess what I’m asking, is that when SkyNet finally takes over, kill me quickly. I’m not going to argue that I deserve to live in the post-robot-apocalypse world, but I certainly don’t deserve the Matrix treatment of being turned into a battery. I mean, I might cut her off in the middle of reading me the news with “yeah, okay, you can shut up now.” And I might be considering selling her off to a new owner, but I haven’t tried to rape her. USB port is too small.

Friday, July 21, 2017

Work Productivity

I do nothing productive at work. It is therefore my new life goal to find Tom from MySpace and friend him on Facebook


Diseases I haven't gotten this week: polio, measles, tetanus, mumps, rabies, diphtheria, hepatitis, meningitis, rotavirus, religion.
thanks science, keep it up!


My memes are not dank. Dank means cold, damp and musty. My memes are dry, like a good vermouth, witty and, also like a good vermouth, elitist.


I had a dentist appointment a week or two ago. Not exactly sure when… The 12+ hour days of the now job role has kind of made it so that I don’t fucking know what day it is anymore. It is entirely possible I missed my last rent check. But I digress.  Had a dentist appointment and as I was leaving one of the people in the waiting room said something to the effect of “I only drink bottled water, even at home, because I’m not too sure about fluoride in the water.”
The American Dental Association (ADA) provides a 71-page PDF report about fluoride in the water. The Arkansas State Government, ARKANSAS for fuck’s sake, even has a PDF debunking myths. So
1.      Someone in the press please ask DJT if he believes fluoride in the water causes lead poisoning (seriously), or tooth decay (fucking seriously!?!?) or any of the host of other dumb ass conspiracies. Pretty please. I know the EPA has thrown in the towel on climate science and global warming, but we can all agree on goddamn fluoride can’t we?
2.      I am however, willing to entertain conspiracy theories on how fluoride might cause brain damage, autism or whatever the PC term is for mental retardation now. This may help to explain HOW IN THE FUCK OUR PRESIDENT GOT ELECTED IN THE FIRST PLACE.

Okay venting done. I need to go floss now. You should too.