Tag: humor

The Facebook Duality

I shared one of my posts to Facebook the other day. I often used to do so, inviting friends and family to ‘see what I’m up to’.

Facebook informed me that it had been blocked as spam. It was the second time in as many months that they labeled one of my posts as spam, claiming something like, I was posting it or sharing it just to get likes.

The nerve.

This happened to be a Floofinition, one of my silly pursuits. Of course I was posting it on Facebook for likes. Why does Facebook think people post on their social media accounts? Likes is one of many reasons for sharing things on Facebook, but they used to encourage me to do just that.

I protested their unilateral condemnation of my post, but my protest is limited in scope to their pre-canned reasons for doing so. And those are flawed and incomplete. It assumes a set of paradigms which frankly just displays how fucking lost thy are. And after I completed that, I thought, I never heard anything back from them about that one last month.

No, you never do. They reach out like some hidden Gods, do their thing, and then watch us like we’re ants running around after their anthill is damaged.

That pissed me off.

The clincher came the next day. It was like, “Michael, here’s a memory of something you posted before! Share it to remind others.” So sweet. So friendly.

And yeah, it was one of my floofinitions. Like the one they condemned as spam and removed for being posted to get likes.

Well, fuck you, Facebook. I’m done with you and your capricious two-faced arrogance. They are already a repository of right-wing memes and misinformation, so they were treading on my last nerve before. I know, they’re quivering back at Meta headquarters, wailing that they’ve alienated me and lost my support. “Oh, boo hoo. We lost Michael. Woe is us.”

That’s okay. It makes me feel better. Just as their community used to do. It’s like they say, the more things change, the more they go to shit.

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Tuesday’s Wandering Thoughts

My wife and I were out shopping for new sheets and pillows last weekend. She came to me with a mug and a grin.

“This is you.” She handed me the mug. “I’m buying it for you.”

She’s right. After running it through the dishwasher with a load, this is now my morning coffee cup.

Thanks, sweetheart.

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Monday’s Wandering Thoughts

I’m chatting with the barista. He tells me my order will be up soon. I ask him, “Did you ring me up?”

He’s completely confused.

I straighten it out, explaining that I wanted to know if he’d charged me, and walk away, laughing. It used to be — a classic beginning to an explanation about change — that cash registers made a ringing sound when transactions were totaled for payment. How long has it been since I’ve heard a cash register ring? As a result, ‘ring me up’ entered society as a popular expression for paying for purchases.

As an aside, my wife had one of those mechanical, ringing registers in her house. Her father, a grocery store manager, procured it when his store upgraded to an electronic system. The register’s ring reminded him of the little stores where they’d shop in his small town.

He said that he never wanted to forget them.

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Monday’s Theme Music

Mood: Bowiedacious

A front has driven in, strewning clouds of different complexities over Ashlandia, giving us variables in lights, shadows, temperatures, and expectations. Sumumn still holds but it’s beginning to look like autmer as trees flirt with new colors in their leaves. Only dropped to the high fifties last night, and today’s high temperature will spank 90 degrees F.

This is Monday, September 23, 2024. You understand that 2024’s ninth month is closing out and there are but 94 days until Kwanzaa, 93 days until Christmas, and 93 days until Hanukkah? There’s also only 43 days until the U.S.’s 2024 elections. Things are getting tight.

Tucker (pronounced Tuck-ah) inspired today’s musical choice, although coffee contributed. Having indulged in my first hit of black goodness, I saw Tucker came out from eating. Moving slow, his eyes were mostly closed and his tongue was busy going over his whiskes and mouth. Sitting, he commenced to watching.

That’s when The Neurons or somebody caused me to sing, “Tucker. I just fed a kitty named Tucker.” This was done to the tune of “Blue Jean” by David Bowie. Right after that, the 1984 song fired up in my morning mental music stream (Trademark dished). It’s a catchy little Bowie number, jaunty with memorable lines which don’t convey any great depths. How did he do that?

Stay positive, confident, and strong. Lean forward and vote blue in 2024. Coffee has been served in the office; here’s the music. Cheers

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Near Floof Object (NFO)

Near Floof Object (floofinition) – Any object which orbits or lands within a floof-specified zone. Such Near Floof Objects (NFOs) can be deemed by the floof to be a threat or hazard and needs to be attacked, or potential food which needs to be eaten. Origins: 1981, NAFA (National American Floof Administration) report on NFOs: “Sniff, Eat, Warn”.

In Use: “Some floofs are floofadaisical about Near Floof Objects, allowing something to come as close as four inches before stirring themselves to take action, but Dynamo believed anything in the same house as him was a NFO, and would sniff it, warn it with loud repetitive barks, and try to eat it if its barks didn’t scare it away.”

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Floofzantine

Floofzantine (floofinition) 1. A complex animal. Origins: first noted on the Internet in the early twenty-first century.

In Use: “Little Serenity was a floofzantine, one moment a peaceful sweetheart, twisting into yowling destructor without even the benefit of a three-second countdown, making it difficult to engage with her for more than fifteen minutes at a time.”

2. An intricate or complex arrangement for animals.

In Use: “Living with fifteen rescued cats, a floofzantine structure was set up for the cats’ entertainment — which also entertained the homeowner.”

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Confloofgence

Confloofgence (floofinition) – The coming together of floofs; a unity among floofs. Origins: first noted use in New Floofland, 1860.

In Use: “The dog, cat, and kitten sitting together on the kitchen floor waiting to be fed was a moment of pleasing and historic confloofgence for Kamala, who never thought she’d see harmony among the floofs.”

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Jigsaws

Two more puzzles were finished this week. We finished a Wysocki last Wednesday. I shot a photo of it with my phone. Then my phone’s software updated and suddenly my phone wasn’t sharing photos with my ‘puter. Gotta investigate settings and figure out what went wrong.

Anyway, couldn’t share a photo of the completed puzzle so here is a photo of the puzzle box. We’re taking it back to the library tomorrow.

Meanwhile, friends had a visitor and she brought them a puzzle. They didn’t put it together but loaned it to us to complete.

Well, we started it Friday night and finished it Saturday night. One thousand pieces. As you see from the photo, it’s candy. Mostly candy bars.

I wasn’t keen on doing it. I like a puzzle with a couple big focal points. This one looks like it has a hundred tiny focal points. Beside that, it has some irregular shapes. Bah.

But it turned out to be challenging but very engaging and a lot of fun. My wife took to it with a lot of zeal. She really seemed to like all those little foci. Details about the candy being offered and their prices and the small details on the packaging was delightful. I enjoyed seeing Sugar Babies, Junior Mints, Clark Bars, and Milk Duds. These were my childhood favorites although as an adult I gravitated toward Payday. But I didn’t put my nose up at a 3Musketeers Bar (my sister’s favorite), a 5thAvenue, or a box of Good & Plenty.

I wondered, though, about the missing candy bars. Nestle Crunch. Milky Way. And what about Twizzlers? Didn’t they deserve to be included?

If you get a chance to try it, I recommend it. But you can’t have this one. We’re taking it apart and returning it to our friends.

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Sunday’s Political Thoughts

In other news that isn’t news, Donald Trump, the GOP nominee for the President of the United States, is upset.

I know, it’s not strong news. Donald J. is often upset. He’s frequently angry at judges, former allies, authors, journalists, prosecutors, the DOJ, media outlets, actors and actresses, women, his lawyers, his advisors, former members of his administration, generals, professional athletes, other billionaires, politicians — especially Democrats, or ‘Dems’ as he likes to say, but also RiNOs — and people who are suing him or serving as witnesses in one of his many trials. Donald J. is not one to shrug it off and sing, “Life is but a dream.” No, he is a serious, angry individual. Just look at his face. I’d share a photo of his face, but I can’t personally stand looking at his face. Sorry.

Aside, though. It used to be common to refer to the POTUS as ‘leader of the free world’. That appellation used to be more frequently used. Maybe it’s just that it’s not used in my silos of information. Could be that the expression is a cold-war relic and went out of popularity with the U.S.S.R.’s collapse and break up.

Anyway, Taylor Swift, a talented, hard-working, world-famous young singer, entertainer, and pop culture queen, endorsed Vice President Kamala Harris as her choice for POTUS.

This was bigly news to Trump. Storming stormed around, throwing ketchup, tossing Big Mac wrappers, he swore, “Covfefe!” Aides and advisors familiar with his patterns got out of his way for their own safety and peace of mind.

“Where’s my phone, where’s my phone?” Trump shouted. “I need to text.”

So he did, pouring his feelings out into social media. “I HATE TAYLOR SWIFT!” 

All caps. The man was deadly furious. A dam on his emotions had broken.

Lips pursed in a manly scowl, he nodded in satisfaction. “That’ll show ’em. That’ll teach them to endorse other, other, other people. Nobody puts Donald J. Trump in a corner.” Waddling back to the table, he sat down and ordered a soft drink.

“Anyone know where my wife is?” He thought about it for a moment. Did he have a wife? Been so long since he’d seen her.

Trump smiled. No way was Biden going to win. Sleepy Joe. Ha. No way. Just wait. Just wait. He’d show ’em. He’d show ’em all.

Just as he’d shown Taylor Swift.

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Thursday’s Wandering Thoughts

Whenever I go shopping alone and I’m tasked with picking up something for my wife, it feels like the stakes soar. I must find that product. I must get the right one.

It usually takes a while. Especially if it’s a product she needs but doesn’t have a sample to show me. I’m visual.

On today’s mission, I suggested that I should take my phone and take photos to send home. I was joking and left without my phone. I should’ve had my phone.

Yes, I should’ve had the phone.

Well, I do have the receipt and can take it back.

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