I am just gonna drop this here as a reference guide to people who are confounded by letters and numbers.
N series masks (N – NOT oil resistant)
R series masks (Resists oil)
P series masks (oil “Proof”)
That’s what the letters are about, and that’s all they are about – their ability to filter out oil based contaminates in the air.
95 series masks – removes 95% of particles 0.3 microns or larger
99 series masks – removes 99% of particles 0.3 microns or larger
100 series masks – removes 99.97% of particles 0.3 microns or larger (This is HEPA level filtration)
Right now, N-95 masks are probably on back order at your local drug store due to the Chinese War Virus of 2020. Keep in mind that masks are used by industries other than Health Care, and masks can be found in some places that may not occur to you at first blush. Also keep in mind that N-95 masks are the minimum recommended effective face mask. The 99s and 100s, the R series and P series will all work as well as an N-95, albeit at a slightly higher price.
Wash your hands and keep them away from your face. Old advice, but it’s still true.
The BigFatManBaby from Denmark’s Lost Colony now makes his home on dlive.tv, at least as of this writing. Let’s take a look at how the King is doing, shall we?
Of special interest is the chat window:
You are a mod. You are not a mod. You are a mod. You are not a mod.
While I was taking this screen shot, a user with a l337 name came in and stated that Faroe was, in his opinion, unfit to shine his shoes. Faroe reacted with his usual cheer and good humor by questioning his visitor’s parentage, sexual orientation, general intelligence and cognitive awareness. Methinks Faroe will be looking for a new home in fairly short order.
It is good to know that in our topsy-turvy universe, some things remain immutable constants.
There is an end to everything, to good things as well.
I like trolling stuffed shirts. I always have and I suspect I always will. Letting some air out of a human gasbag is fulfilling in a basic and fundamental way that just makes me feel good all down around my nether regions. It fills my bowels with happiness and joy, as Confucius probably didn’t say, but he should have.
I have been trolling certain individuals literally for years, going back across VL, BlogTV and YahooLive. I have determined that these certain individuals require trolling, much like a plant needs sunlight. Without regular and comprehensive trolling, they begin to wither and get boring, and if there is one thing I detest, it’s boring (except when I have to go see a doctor). So last week, while on my appointed rounds, I made an error. I was visiting one of my regulars and rattling their cage good and hard. I had looked at the chatter list and I saw a name that we all know and despise. This person is widely considered to be one of Cram’s anonymous site moderators and usually when I see that user ID, I just go one my way because it is better to run away and live to troll another day… but for reasons mysterious and inexplicable, I made a run right into the big, fat ego of my target and made them quite angry. Apologies were demanded, I responded with insults, then rage and angst were expressed, I responded with levity and yet more insults. All in all, a very happy troll session for myself and I left laughing when I got kicked from the channel.
The next morning, the bill came due. “Guest Access Denied” and my very own IP address attached thereto. That I was guest banned shortly after trolling a certain person while the ManBearPig was in the channel is unlikely to be a coincidence.
I have spoken to some of the OG of Ivlog, and they pretty say the same thing: You are now “half-banned” and you are going to be closely monitored until they can finish the job.
I agree with their assessment. I have seen other people lose guest access and invariably they are completely banned within a month or so. So this past Friday I did my final broadcast on the Ivlog. I will be missed by ones of people, but they know where to find me if they need a discount colonoscopy or an earwax scraping. I will still drop in once a week to watch one show done by an old friend, as I always log in for that show in any event. I suspect that show will now attract an “invisible viewer” on a regular basis, as I am certain she is quite eager to finish me off before her expiration date is reached.
So Jessica is being Jessica and Monkeysniffer suggested that Jessica should start taking some “EXTRA strength get smart pills” .. and being an Aged American (old geezer) I immediately thought of the Smart Drink episode of News Radio, which is WELL WORTH THE WATCH.
Some sites call them Operators. Some sites call them Moderators. Regardless of the title, asshats are gonna asshat, and you know I’m right. Two folks in particular have distinguished themselves recently in the realm of asshattery (asshatedness?) and they really deserve special mention for their round-the-clock devotion to being ill-natured douche bags.
Sm0keyjoint (the current spelling) is a well known buttmunch from the Frozen North who has an irrational fear and loathing of all things GuestNation. I have personally witnessed this obnoxious drug addict systematically clear out entire guest sections of chat rosters, and when asked why he did that, states “I don’t like guests.” So much for that “Canada Kind” myth, eh? If you enter any channel as a guest and this fugitive from a rehab center is a mod/operator, you are in between the rock and the hard place. Type something that he decides he doesn’t like and you are toast. Don’t type anything and… you are also toast. I can only assume that when Sm0key was a wee lad, a guest must have touched him in a bad place and now Smokey is getting his righteous vengeance. Or, he’s an asshole. I’m going with “He’s an asshole”.
The yin to Sm0key’s yang is that very special little lady, Sassy, also going under the ID of Moongirl. Now for a fact, Sassy’s life sucks. Sassy is not attractive, her personal life is well past the point of being in the toilet, it is now in the general area of the septic tank. She has no real prospects of things ever getting any better, AND IT’S ALL YOUR FAULT. Sassy (who I dubbed “the Mean Lady” after repeatedly being booted out of one particular channel by her over and over again) has a rather limited ability to recognize humor. By “limited”, what I really mean is she has no ability whatsoever. You can be talking to someone else in a chat box (in other words, an on-going conversation) and if she sees something that offends her pecksniff sensibilities, your conversation is now at an end. The idea that she might not be at the center of any and all conversations in a chat box is somehow alien to her. She’s pretty much a total bitch. She gets dis-invited from a fair number of channels and seems puzzled as to why.
Sadly, both of these cockgobblers are longtime veterans of the social broadcasting scene and they get modded up a fair amount. You can speak to channel owners about them, but you get this “I can’t really do anything about it because they are friends with X and Y and Z and if I de-mod them, then their friends just mod them back up and anyway I need to be popular with X, Y and Z so I just act like it doesn’t happen” response. The net result is that some channels that CAN be fun are driven into the realm of SUCK due to who is sitting in there watching the chat instead of watching the show.
Yeah, this has been an issue since Day 1, it won’t ever get any better (especially if a moderator can create more moderators, because that is a good description of how cancer works), and trolling the bejesus out of them is a pleasurable pastime.
Yetta has decided to immerse herself in the Adam & Jessica mutual respect and admiration society. This remarkable 180 degree about-face took a matter of seconds to perform. I was impressed enough to capture the moment, thereby preserving it for historians who study the subject of humans who can jump a fence so fast they actually run into themselves.
I love it, but I would never do it, except when I talk about it, and that was only once, and it has been continuously.
Ladies and gentlemen, I give you YettaTelebenda, having her cake and eating it too.
The Scuttles Monkeysniffer Blog did a pretty thoroughnailing-of-the-hide of Adam to the barn door. Adam has been inflicting his fantasies on his viewers for a number of years (I have personally seen Adam claim to be a police officer, a highly paid club DJ, a 5-star chef and a Casanova Level Ladies Man), so it is only just, meet and proper that some reality should finally intrude into his on-air life. I am personally amused that Adam was described by a sitting judge as “intellectually challenged”. There you have it, Adam. You are now and forever more legally stupid.
Adam is not alone in being legally stupid. Perpetually troubled-imbecile-at-large JessicaWubsJesu is running around inciting drama as fast as her ever fattening ham-like legs can propel her. Much like Adam, she desperately desires to be “popular” and will do absolutely fucking ANYTHING to get there, only to fall flat on her face due to her innate limitations – which may just explain that amazingly large forehead of hers. Halfwits of Ivlog should be aware that Jessica will sell your ass out to anyone in a New York minute if she thinks it will shine a scintilla of limelight on her pudgy self. Anyone with a single lick of sense has long since placed her on ignore and banned her out of their channels. I am told via an UNNAMED SOURCE that she has gotten very much on the nerves of the Ivlog Staff & Management and they are quite tired of dealing with her shit.
Ivlog continues its struggles, now featuring chat disconnects around the clock for anyone and everyone, including channel owners. I was in Thumbtack’s channel and half of his audience, including Mr Tack, all disconnected at once. Well, I guess Ivlog has some teething issues, being a new site and all. Wait…..
The Halloween horror channels apparently did SO well on Ivlog that they are still with us. As of this afternoon (Nov 9) there are 3 (three) channels playing horror/slasher/monster movies. I am of a mind that the adage about less being more might apply here, but I also know you can lead a whore to water but you can’t make her think.
I am informed there will be no Vaughnmas this year. If this is true, this would be a break in a centuries old tradition. Perhaps Scruffy’s allergies now include tinsel, evergreen trees and eggnog. Her well known allergy to all things paper already precludes her from touching Hallmark cards, wrapping paper and Charmin. Perhaps Scuffy’s long awaited end will finally occur. Now that would be a Festivus Miracle.
So this is what I see when I try to enter any channel as a guest on Ivlog.
The IP showing in that error message isn’t my IP. Not even close, as they say in Horseshoe Tournaments. Logging in to my account and then logging back out does not rectify the issue.
So I leapt to my BatPhone and called a friend who lives in another part of this great nation of ours and requested that they log in to Ivlog, then log out of their account and try to enter a channel as a guest…
Oh my. Same error with a new and different INCORRECT IP address.
I suspect that this may have something to do with the recent server migration that occurred within the past couple of days on the Eye Vee log. I know that migration process laid waste to my ignore list (thanks, by the way for that neat little trick, now I get to ignore the same idiots alllllll over again).
In any event, what we see here is an erroneous error message: an error message that is in error. Neither myself nor the person enlisted to confirm this error message were logging in via phones, laptops, or any other portable devices. We were both hitting Ivlog from PCs, the same PCs we normally use to access the site, the same PCs that will let us into channels if we are logged in, but give us these stupid and incorrect error messages if we log out.
Yetta is back to being Yetta full time, so I must assume the celestial clocks are in harmony. She has re-re-re-re-bannzored myself and also clipped the wings of Cocoa Black, which means neither of us can now be regaled by tales of PS 52 and who was sitting 4 tables away at the fabulous new Bistro on 7th Avenue.
Alvaro got site bannzored from Ivlog and is no longer a player in the Game of Broadcasters. His blog is now just a chatbox due to non-payment of the monthly internet bill and he has surrendered said chatbox to Patty and Sean, who should be getting married soon. No word yet on which one will be the wife.
Moonboots has returned from his sojourn in the wilderness and now has an actual roof over his head. His furniture seems to consist of his folding camping chair, which can’t be very comfortable to sleep in.
The Scuttles Blog is rocking and rolling as the usual suspects make sure there is plenty of fresh content to write about (all you people have to do is NOT be crazy, but you just can’t seem to manage to do even that…).
Halloween is here, so the same movie channels will now show the same Halloween/Friday the 13th marathons they have been showing since the internet was called the Information Super Highway.
PreventedJimPenis seems to have settled in to VL. He occasionally walks through the door while PetMahKat is ‘casting on Ivlog and hurriedly backs out, NO SIGN OF HIM LEAVING PET’S HOUSE, EVER.
Speaking of no signs, there is no sign that Fathead Manbaby has learned anything from his numerous bannzorations, as he has been expelled from yet another broadcasting site for exactly the same reasons he has been banned from all the rest.
Boston Chickie has stated yet again (07:00 Eastern Time, October 8, 2019) that she is leaving Ivlog FOR-FUCKING-EVER, so I am guessing she will be back on most any minute now. Something is going on with her in real life, as she is easily set off by anything she even thinks might just possibly, maybe, sort of kinda be an aspersion on her character. Of course, that is straight up blood-in-the-water to the sharks that swim in the deep and murky waters of the internet.
I am certain there is other shit dancing on the fan blades that I am missing. I won’t even talk about Dani’s apparent new found internet paramour who appears to be from the land where they write in squiggly lines. Can you say “open bobs”? But I’m not going to talk about this… yet.
September in North Carolina means back to school and here comes a hurricane.
This year, our first contestant is Dorian. Dorian has made lots of new friends in the Bahamas and is now coming to pay our kith and kin in Morehead and the Outer Banks a visit.
The current projected track will keep(?) Dorian out of Wilmington (this is good) but run it right through the middle of Morehead City and Beaufort (very bad), then inside the Outer Banks before it crosses back out to sea just north of Avon. So if you live anywhere between Bald Head Island and Atlantic Beach, the surf is up (WAYYYYY UP). Morehead and Beaufort look to get totally dicked… and maybe New Bern doesn’t get quite as hammered as it did last year. Maybe. The Outer Banks will get what they get every time: over-washed, Highway 12 will get its annual rebuild and the fishing will be spectacular.
Per the current track, once Dorian crosses out to sea, it doesn’t see landfall again until Halifax, NS.
As I bang this out, Wilmington is already getting banged on (high winds, lots and lots and lots of rain, tornado warnings… the usual) and this weather will show up in Morehead in about an hour or so. Tomorrow at this time, this will all be over – except I expect the effing power will be O-U-T and this year I am cooking EVERYTHING in my freezer as soon as I hit the “publish” button on this post. I hate having to throw food away.
You never run into anyone named Gladys anymore. Can’t say that I have run across many Mabels as of late either. This may or may not have some deeper meaning.
After a couple of months of figuratively beating my head against a wall, I finally found a company that will install a carport for my old-age crisis car that I really should not have bought, but what the fuck. Cocoa Black will enjoy getting tickets in it after I kick the bucket.
I made the drive up to the mountains to spend some time with Uncle David. We went out to his local range each day I was there and played with manydifferentpew-pews. In fact, we had so much fun he has invited me back. As I am headed to Nashville in late September to see King Crimson (again), current plans are to stop in and spend a day or three at Casa David on the way home. Decisions… take the M1A or the SIG 716? Both? Maybe the SIG M400?
It’s hot as the hinges of hell around here, but as I stare at the calendar, I observe that it appears to be August, and I seem to recall something about it still being summer, so maybe that explains the heat. I’m fixing to make it a bit hotter. The tree guy finally came by a couple of weeks ago and took down the limb shedding monster pines that were looming over my house like malevolent eldritch sentinels from times long ago. I have acquired a 55 gallon drum and am going to try the burnination trick on the stumps to ease the cutting of my lawn by my faithful yard man.
That link will take you to seven (7) screen caps worth of comments that Son Child deemed necessary to write to herself on her Ivlog channel today.
You will have to read from the bottom to the top if you want to observe the actual order in which they were written, BUT…
Since this is Son Child we are talking about, it doesn’t matter if you go from top to bottom, the middle to the top and back to the bottom or hold it up to a mirror and read it backwards, it’s going to make the same amount of sense either way.
You may wish to consult with a physician before reading, as Son Child has been known to induce migraines, seizures, whooping cough and anal fissures in her audiences.
So to begin with, those of you interested in Faroe’s bannination need to read THIS POST first, as it led directly to the events that triggered Faroe’s (hopefully permanent) vacation from Ivlog. There has been much speculation about this on other blogs; hopefully this post will put some of that to rest.
On Wednesday evening I was super-oping in an Ivlog channel and dropped the ban+ hammer on Faroe. The channel owner, a kindhearted but misled young lady, unbanned Faroe because she felt that he was just a poor, misunderstood Quasimodo of the internet, in need of love, caring, and understanding (omg, I just made myself puke a little). By way of background, Faroe was under instruction from the Ivlog staff not to have any interaction with me regardless of circumstances, and while I had not been given the same rules, I studiously avoided him and his many channels as I did not want to be in a position of being perceived as provoking him.
When Faroe returned to the above reference channel, this is what he had to say:
So I screen-capped this pleasant post and sent it in to Ivlog Support with a brief reminder of my situation vis-à-vis Faroe. About 10 minutes later I got a response stating that the matter had been dealt with. My assumption was that he had gotten another warning and we would continue to play the Faroe Drive By Game well into the future… but then a guest came into chat and said Faroe was site-banned. This was shortly confirmed by Faroe himself, as he was on VL spewing forth great large amounts of invective towards any and all parties involved in his bannoration, excluding himself, of course.
What apparently happened (and I base this assumption on the many different versions of events as told by Faroe) is that an Ivlog site moderator told Faroe that he was being given a final warning about talking to me, and Faroe told the moderator to “Fuck Off.” Faroe’s story changes every single time he tells it, but when he gets excited and his mouth starts running at 100mph, the bit about him telling the Ivlog moderator to fuck off is mentioned consistently.
So there, dear reader, is how it went down from my point of view. Faroe was an ongoing source of friction both in my weekly shows and in any channel he could find me in. Obviously, Faroe is not a person that can be dealt with reasonably, so I took my issues to the powers that be and cited the terms of service he was in violation of and requested relief. The person who actually got Faroe banned was Faroe. All I can “lay claim” to is setting the table, the giant bald man-baby pulled up the chair and ate his own lunch.
Faroe is now on VL carrying on like an imbecile talking trash about Ivlog, Ivlog’s owner, Ivlog’s eeeeeevil rogue site moderators and little old me. During one of his tirades, the Queen of Mercury herself popped in and:
Note that Patty, the notorious chat troll, who is also banned from Ivlog, was madly stirring the pot, winding Faroe up like a cheap coo-coo clock.
So that’s what happened, when it happened, why it happened, how it happened. Faroe’s a jackass, he popped off at me a couple of times too many, I escalated within the framework of the rules, and Faroe committed chat-suicide BECAUSE HE COULD NOT KEEP HIS BIG FAT MOUTH SHUT. End of story.
Jimmey (yeah, that is how he spells it) has been known to some of us for a very long time and that he has been smote with the ban hammer comes as no surprise at all, we just wonder why it took so very, very long for the powers-that-be on Ivlog to act. Jimmey has never been what anyone would describe as subtle. He can best be described as a 21st century Rasputin, a walking, talking disaster waiting to strike anyone foolish enough to interact with him. Much like Rasputin, he seemed to be able to hold sway over the weak-minded, everyone else saw him for what he was.
I am told by persons in whom I have some significant trust that he spoke very highly of me this evening while broadcasting from his new internet home. Ideations and pronouncements of death, disfigurement, all the usual adolescent fantasies one would expect from someone with Jimmey’s various mental disorders were bandied about by Mr Wackypants. I truly wish I could say that I qualify for such exalted hatred from dear Jimmey, but sadly, I did not have jack shit to do with his bannination from Ivlog. No, I had to be content with kicking him out of every channel I found him in. I know not who actually claimed his scalp, but I feel fairly certain Jimmey made it very easy for them, as Jimmey was given to typing some fairly outrageous shit from time to time.
Count on the fact that Jimmey will not see it that way. Nope, Jimmey’s capacity to accept responsibility is so tiny that science has yet to develop a means of classifying it. Jimmey will claim that a vast conspiracy of no-goodnicks did him in, stabbed him in the back, bushwhacked and otherwise did him in by means both underhanded and foul. That’s what Jimmey thrives on.
WHY, why, why, why do you do these things? When you start a song and it’s playing, someone in your channel is listening to that song. Hell, someone in your channel might even be enjoying that song. So why, in the name of all that is unmentionable, do you stop the song dead in its tracks to play something else?
Do you hear terrestrial radio stations do this? Do you hear satellite service radio stations do this? Do you hear radio over cable TV stations do this? NO, YOU DO NOT HEAR ANY OF THEM DO THIS. So why do you do it?
The rules for broadcasting are fairly straightforward. Don’t play a disco track in the middle of a Led Zeppelin set, okay? That seems pretty obvious. Don’t depend on some online source for your music (this is the single most broken rule there is, and one day when the clouds crash and youtube can’t pirate videos anymore, you fuckers will all be weeping). Don’t play the same song twice, because that confirms what we all think: you aren’t paying attention to your shit. Show up and stay on camera. Sure, everyone needs a bathroom break once and again, but be in your show, otherwise you are just mailing it in, and I can just as easily NOT see the broadcaster on real radio. Stay off of skype calls, don’t shove food in your gaping maw, DO play the long remix version, have your OBS or X-Split already correctly set when you start… all this is obvious.
Most importantly, when you start a track, let it finish. Don’t be a lame ass chowder head and kill the track because you are tired of it/didn’t mean to play it/someone requested a new song/whatever. If you did fuck up and play it by mistake, then letting it finish is what you deserve for fucking up to begin with. Mistakes should be painful, otherwise we do not learn. If someone requests something, let that track that’s playing finish. Once you start down the road of killing a song because some pisshole in a snowbank asked to hear “Tiptoe Through the Tulips”, it never ends, because I am gonna wait about 20 seconds and request some god awful metal noise just to piss the Tiny Tim fan off. And thus is the path to chaos laid out before you, each listener trying to undercut the last. And that is no way to run a show.
I can pretty much assure you no matter how much you think a song sucks (say… anything and everything by Abba), someone likes it for some unholy and demented reason. You owe it to the people who took the time to come in to your miserable channel to at least try to make them happy, and if that means you need to mute the music on your end for 3 minutes, do the right thing.
Not calling any names here, but someone with the initials of StudMuffin cut off “I’m a Man” by Chicago because some douche wanted to hear something else. What the fuck were you thinking, StudMu… er, anonymous broadcaster person?
I have tried to tolerate his hapless shenanigans in the past, as I understand that he faces mental issues that limit him in many ways, but at some point enough is enough and tonight… enough.
Over the past few weeks, Faroe has been a regular visitor to my Friday night shows. Sometimes, he is content to blow up my PM inbox (and my superop’s PM inbox as well) while he remains in Do Not Disturb mode – which means there is no conversation, just a one-way avenue for him to carry on about what assholes we are. Other weekends, he will do the usual “my computer specs are blah blah honk snort blah, so fuck you” posts that we all love and cherish. This week it was the old subscribe/unsubscribe 1,050 times a minute trick that sets the new subscriber message light to flashing madly. Just to add to the evening’s message, he then came in to chat and:
So about that remark he made, “stop being 2 faced against me”… Faroe is not very bright, in addition to his various socializing disorders. It is a very common sight to see a guest enter Faroe’s chat and type something along the lines of “Faroe, (insert user name here) said you eat doo doo and dress funny.” Faroe will explode upon reading this. He launches into a tirade of profanity and literally starts to vibrate in his chair. He takes this anonymous (and patently stupid) post directly to heart and loudly declares his undying hatred of the alleged doo doo accuser and swears he shall make their crops wither and die, then sow salt upon their fields so that their offspring shall know misery for seven generations.
This happens pretty much every single time he broadcasts on Ivlog, the people who do it know Faroe is a big, bald wind-up toy with a potty mouth, and they take great delight in winding Faroe up and pointing him in any particular direction just to watch the fun. Tonight, he was pointed at me.
I have not had any interactions with Faroe, other than his less-than-pleasant visits to my show. The whole “2 face” thing would imply that I am saying something nice to his face and then talking trash about him when he is not present. Sorry, pal Faroe, but I have never said anything beyond “hello” to you, EVER. As far as talking any trash, other than discussing your various mental disorders with the staff of the Ivlog psychiatrists, you just aren’t talked about at all. You aren’t important enough to be talked about.
So tonight, after he went off in my chat, a nice person tossed me a pro account and Faroe got what he asked for. And unlike Faroe, who clears his banned list every time his meds get changed, mine is pretty much carved in stone. You’ll have to find someone else to be upset with now, but I am sure your guests will find your next target in short order.
Not a lot of posting by Cocoa and myself. It has gotten decidedly hot in our respective regions of this great and fair nation, too hot to post, too hot to think.
Let’s see what’s going on at Ivlog…
Which is not to say that nothing is going on. Someone got mad, someone got upset, someone thinks they got even, someone unfriended someone else, someone laughed until their face ached, someone took off too many garments, someone drank too much while on camera, someone sent someone else a PM designed to start a fight, someone else didn’t care.
Ivlog isn’t dead, mind you, but it is starting to smell a bit funny.
So through the courtesy of an anonymous friend, I was treated exposed to video of roughly 90 minutes of Lipshitsian Theater that happened early this morning. It would appear, dear reader, that M. Latrine has set sail into the west and “discovered” the New World, which in this instance turns out to be… my old user names.
My sincerest congratulations. You have found that which was not hidden, and the skill which you employed (well, let’s be honest here, it was the skill which your viewers employed) is on par with what I would expect any novice googleteer (it’s a word now, dammit) to possess.
Kookie, for one brief moment, stop talking and attempt to engage your brain and THINK. I do shows. I am on camera when I do shows. That means people can see me. So if they come in to a channel that says “Joe_King” or “Les_Izmoor” or “S_Colaser” (or any of the other user IDs I have cycled through), THEY. STILL. SEE. ME.
Do you understand that?
I typically (but not always) run the Popeye avatar on my broadcast channels. If I were actually seeking to be furtive, do you think I would continually fly the same flag?
So much like our good friend, Chis Columbus, you have found that which was always there. Contrary to your opinion, Joe/Les/Mork/etc have never been hiding from anyone. To this very day, when I am on camera, people will come into that channel and greet me by “Joe” or “Les” or any other user name that they remember me by. It’s the internet, so it just doesn’t matter what anyone is called – except to you. To you it matters a great deal.
In any event, I am very pleased that I am still living between your ears, rent free, 24/7. Also, thank you for telling us about Lizzy calling you “M. Latrine”. That is fucking hysterical.