Tears of the Weak

Okay, this should be simple, and I think for most of you, it is. There are Certain Individuals that haunt social media sites and they do nothing but lie and incite. I suspect that you, dear reader, could easily tick off a short list of them without putting forth any effort. These Certain Individuals are harmless to those of us that know them for who and what they are, but the weak-minded (that’s harsh, but it’s fair) let these people get under their skins and all too often they take what is said to or about them to heart.

The latest episode of this drama du jour happened this morning in the Official Ivlog Transvestite channel. The laughably hideous “JackieLee” was babbling on in his usual mindless manner when a slap fight broke out between Michelle Stacy (a well known Certain Individual) and JessicaLuvsJesus (the weak-minded). The mentally ill LikLik (yet another Certain Individual) sensed a disturbance within the asylum and immediately rushed to join the affray, adding his own peculiar brand of inflammatory disinformation wherever he felt it would do the most harm. It’s what he does. In the meantime, JackieLee did what he does best: absolutely nothing.

As far as a fight, the outcome was never in doubt. Michelle Stacy and LikLik are devoid of anything we might term a conscience, and JessicaLuvsJesus is basically unarmed in any battle of wits. The Certain Individuals fired off their usual spread of lies, the weak-minded took it very seriously, burst into tears and rage quit. JessicaLuvsJesus retreated to one of her alt accounts, wept copiously and finally summoned an Ivlog site moderator to nail “mean” guests with IP bans.

Various denizens of Ivlog popped in and out of JessicaLuvsJesus’ channel to commiserate or remonstrate as their natures dictated. Among these folks was Boston Chickie (someone I have “known” since she first appeared in the dim and misty past of social broadcasting) who wisely observed that with the passage of a few days this would all blow over. It did sadden me to see that Michelle Stacy was later sighted in Boston Chickie’s channel as her super-op. Boston, dear lady, if you lay down with dogs you will surely get up with fleas.

This all leads into a discussion on the subject of “transitive friendships” and the ultimately destructive nature of relationships to people who give credence to that philosophy. The friend of your friend DOES NOT HAVE TO BE my friend. It is entirely possible and eminently legitimate that you may have a friend that I despise and you and I can remain friends. If you would be so kind, please ask yourself some simple questions: when you were growing up, how many of your friends were disapproved of by your parents? Did you despise your parents because they disliked one of your friends? Do you feel your parents were wrong, given the time that has since elapsed? Do you now comprehend their point of view?

I worry for Boston Chickie and her seeming friendship with someone that I know is a viper, but I am not going to cease contact with BC over the issue. I suspect BC will, in her own good time come to see what, in my opinion, is self-evident, but as a wise man once said, you can lead a horse to water, but you can’t make him think. Er…., drink.

One year ago

I meant to post this yesterday and I got sidetracked by a stubborn PCIe SATA controller card that wished to have its way with me. This afternoon, after a fearsome struggle in which much blood was shed, I prevailed.

ONE YEAR AGO, Mommy Vaughn announced that she was dying.

Will you PLEASE get on with it.

It grieves me to report that I have nothing further to report. I shall endeavor to maintain a sense of optimism and hope for the worst. For her.

Fun for kids of all ages

Cocoa has told me to get off my dead posterior and do something I mentioned in passing once upon a time: Cookie Bingo.

The rules are simple and the card below is but an example. Write down 24 of her annoying words or phrases (which should not be too difficult, because that woman is the living embodiment of annoying) and play Cookie Bingo with your friends. Fun for anyone who has ever been on JTV, blogTV, YawnLive or Ivlog.

Right click, save as, or whatever the kids are doing these days…

Note: Her OCD forces her to say some of her words/phrases over and over. Sorry, you only get to use it once, because she IS crazy and you aren’t.

TraffiC means Tripcode

Cookie has decided that she has discovered the secret identity of this writer. She has come to the inescapable and ineluctable conclusion that I am…

The Ivlog Ouija Boards says all signs point to…

Tripcode. After announcing this, she then loudly proclaimed (in triplicate, as is her wont) that I would deny that I am Tripcode. Toots, I could give exactly zero flying fucks at a rolling doughnut who you think I am. If you need to think I am Tripcode, the Wizard of Oz, the Grand Wazoo or Father Duffy, then that is who I am.

With the help of her current sidekick, Ian985 (more about Ian shortly), they then deduced that Cocoa was someone named Jinx. After a bit more brainstorming, they came to the positive conclusion that HandsomeMork and Cocoa Black are both Tripcode. By now, you must be thinking the same thing that I am… Tripcode is a VERY busy boy.

As H.L. Mencken said, “For every complex problem there is an answer that is clear, simple, and wrong.”

Ian985 is a rather interesting character. He agrees with every single bit of nonsense that drops out of Cookie’s ever flapping pie hole. He agrees just a little too much, too eagerly, too avidly. I’m gonna go ahead right now, in writing, and call him out as a catfish. No one agrees with anyone as much as Ian agrees with Cookie, and when something is too good to be true, it’s just too damn good to be true. Shitlips, you are fixin’ to get burned once again and I for one am going to revel in every minute of it.


ME! ME! ME!

Deeply into her senescence, Yetta’s show has become a festival celebrating her own peculiar brand of egocentrism. I have encountered some self-centered assholes in my sixty plus years on this planet the kids call “erf”, but this old bat is walking off with the cake. With an ego that large, it is simply impossible for a knave such as myself to resist the impulse to stick the occasional pin in the enormous balloon of her self-esteem. Sometimes it rattles her cage just a bit, as witnessed by the screen capture below:

Spiling iz haard. No simple typo, this.

She did in fact notice her error, as a clear expression of irritation passed across her face, but in true Lipshitzian fashion, she plowed on for the next 25 minutes telling me just how very much I sucked. Then it was back to the “All Lizzy, All The Time” diatribe she has been locked into since the beginning of 2019. I must bow to Lizzy, as she is UNDER the skin of Kookie in a truly impressive fashion. Troll Level: Master.

The Holidays Can Be Hard

This time of year can be difficult for some people. For example, the bag lady of Ivlog is having an exceedingly rough time of it right now. Still pining for her young and star-crossed time-traveling paramour, we observe that Ruth Telebooth Yetta Telebenda is showing not only her sizeable bald spot (which, it appears she has been able to successfully lease as a helipad), but also a good inch or so of not-so-fashionable gray rootage.

You are cleared for landing.

I truly feel sorry for the poor hair dresser that will have to endure the hour or so of inane and befuddled Lipshitsian ramblings as Marjorie sees to her thinning coiffure in an attempt to hang on to the dimming memories of those bygone times when she was young and dinosaurs walked the earth.

‘Tis the Season

In an event that we all saw coming, Yetta’s unrequited lesbian love for Lizzy is no more.

Yetta is a harsh mistress, and apparently Lizzy’s behavior failed to pass muster, leading Yetta to label Lizzy a “sleaze”. Yetta spent a rough 24 hours defending her judgemental behavior, alternately declaiming that she had not in fact called Lizzy a “sleaze” per se, but had labeled Lizzy’s behavior (repeat the word “behavior” three times then write it in chat) “sleazy” and then stating that it really didn’t matter if she had called Lizzy a sleaze or not, as the truth must be told, and Yetta – being a direct descendant of Moses (just ask her) – is the preeminent giver of the law and truth.

So now we come to Yetta, sitting in her channel, chat set to “ops only”, insulting her listeners as “uneducated”, “willfully ignorant”, “fools”, “lacking in understanding” and so on. Yetta has lots of experience in failed relationships, and all of those failures have one common element. That element is Marjorie Levine. Lack of understanding indeed, Yetta.

Per Yetta, Lizzy will not respond to any PMs and so Yetta had no choice other than to ban Lizzy from her channel. This information comes directly from Yetta, so look for the story to change by noon tomorrow. It always does.

Pleather

For some reason, It seems that Under Teleblunder likes to “fart into pleather”. I had to look up “pleather”, which seems to be the 21st century version of what us old folks used to call Naughahyde.

Now naughahyde was damned mysterious in and of itself back in the day. I have hunted many species of critter on the North American continent, but I had never heard of a Naugha; I assumed that it must have a splendid hide, so it was probably a domesticated animal, being raised on vast Naugha ranches, probably located in exotic locations, such as Wyoming or maybe the New Jersey Pine Barrens.

Some internet research reveals that “pleather” is a chemical product made from polyvinyl chloride. Yes, it is made from exactly the same stuff that all those white, gray, blue, green, black, etc. plumbing pipes are made from. And that was when the light came on: no wonder she farts into it, it’s her toilet drain pipe.

In other news, Cookie’s COTU has hit new heights, as she stormed out of Lizzy’s show because Lizzy wouldn’t cut guest chat off. Cookie has now announced (and channeled Miss Scruffy exceedingly well in the process) that she will no longer enter any channel that has guest chat on. The Grand Dame of Social Media stated that no rational broadcaster would ever consider doing a show with guest chat on. She seemed quite put out that just anyone could add to the conversation. She added that every guest was up to no good and they should just be banned. Of course, she was telling this to all the guests sitting in her channel watching her melt down.

But she is NOT mad.

Was it something I said?

Utter Telebutter has gotten big mad at me. I am talking full on screaming, howling, raving, barking at the moon mad. You see friends and neighbors, I am, in her own words, “less than an insect”, however I am also “very dangerous”. So dangerous that Fetta will now be leaving her tenement housing project via the garage. She has alerted the NYPD Internet Troll squad, the Federal IP Enforcement Unit, The Royal Canadian Mounted Packet Inspector Division and The Brooklyn Boy Scouts (can we still call them Boy Scouts?) of my presence on her channel and… boy do I feel sorry for whoever has to deal with her.

She has sworn a mighty oath, sealed by the Covenant of Moses (who she does in fact claim as an ancestor) that she will never again read a single word of this here useless blog, as it is beneath her notice, contempt, excrement, finger nail clippings, stained underwear… you name it.

I wish her well, but I fear that she will be unable to hold fast to her word. Below is a screen cap of November’s server logs – which is (at the moment of this writing) a bit less than 29 hours old.

83 Page views since yesterday

So good luck Yoda Telekubota. I will do what I can to help you avoid my miserable website which your immense, bloated ego has no further desire to see.

Fish Story

We’ve all heard fish stories. Someone went fishing and caught a fish, and that fish increases in size each time the fisherman (fisher-person?) tells the story about the catch.

Kookie Shitlips, resident crazy person of Ivlog, is spinning her fish story even as I type this post. This afternoon, Kookie stated that she had approached an art gallery with an idea. She talked about taking screen caps of some comments concerning her, “scribbling” on them, thereby transforming these posts into art and having a one woman exhibition of … whatever. Art, it ain’t. She said the mythological dealer of art was interested in this idea and after a pregnant pause, Shitlips added she was going to be paid. More about “being paid” later in this post.

That keen legal maven, Candy Rayne, playing her role of enabler of the demented, advised Kookie that by virtue of scribbling on these screen shots, they would then become Kookie’s intellectual property. Kookie cackled about wanting to be sued by the authors of the scribbled upon posts (sued for precisely what, she did not say) as that would require said plaintiffs to identify themselves in the forthcoming fantasy legal proceedings. In other words, a typical Kookie fantasy wherein she conjures up amazing plots so she can be the heroine and vanquish all who stand before her.

This evening, the story, much like that fish, had grown considerably. By 11pm, the story was that an art gallery had approached her with this idea. Now that makes NO effing sense at all for at least two very good reasons. First, exactly how would this phantasmagorical art dealer know anything about Shitlip’s experiences on the internet, and secondly, why in the name of Blue Jesus would he then advise the Bag Lady of Ivlog to “scribble” on screen shots of which he has no knowledge?

As the witching hour approached, one art dealer became TWO art dealers. Yes, apparently the Art World of New York City is beating a path to the rent-controlled walk-up that is the abode of Kookie, and they come waving money. I said I would get back around to “being paid”. Art galleries work on consignment sales, Kookster. NO ONE IS GOING TO PAY YOU A DIME FOR A COPY OF A SCREEN CAPTURE THAT YOU HAVE DRAWN SOME LINES ON. Sadly, I have actually seen some of her “art work” and… well, it’s easier to show it than attempt to describe it. It is about at the level of a child with their very first box of crayons.

Seriously, she calls this art.

On the one hand, it is entertaining watching her lunacy from a front row seat, on the other hand, it is kinda sad watching her lunacy from a front row seat.

Voltaire? Volare!

It is apparent that someone has pointed out this fabulous blog to the vile and execrable Kookie Shitlips. Of course, Kookie is “disturbed“, so it is in her nature to point out a couple of posts we have made concerning her. She typed in the urls of two posts (her catfish experience with the mysterious Tripcode and a post concerning her usage of RevolverMaps) into the scrolling chat description window above the chat area. One aspect of her scrolling message does puzzle me mightily. Who the fuck is Voltaire?

 

 

Now I am going to go well out on a limb here and make an assumption. I am ASSUMING that Cookie is not referring to the historical personage known as “Voltaire” (real name: François-Marie Arouet), but is instead referring to some chat room wag who uses Voltaire as a user ID. This is not a safe assumption on my part. Given this antediluvian harridan’s grandiose delusions, she may actually believe that Voltaire is alive, well, and writing about her.

In any event, “Voltaire” is not a name that myself or Cocoa has ever used on any social broadcasting site. PremiumHogwash is now and has always been authored by myself and the esteemed Cocoa Black, and neither of us are fans of the cheese eating surrender monkeys. Any attempt by Kookie to credit this blog to Voltaire is purely the result of an Elavil induced psychosis.

Hell Storm ’18 or Gone With the Wind part CLXXXII

That most dangerous of men, Matt Drudge, always refers to inbound hurricanes as “HELL STORM”, this time around he may be right.

North Carolina has had some bad luck with “F” hurricanes in the month of September, and it looks like another one is on its way. The European Weather models have been calling for Florence to hit the Carolinas for over a week now, and the GFS (the American model) has finally decided that uh… yeah, it looks like Florence is gonna hit the Carolinas.

Right now it looks like it will come ashore as a category 3 storm, which is bad enough, but the projections for rainfall are slam out of sight. This rain will be coming down in an area that has had a historically wet summer already.

Let me recommend that you get familiar with this guy sooner rather than later: https://www.wxrisk.com/(fakebook page is https://www.facebook.com/WxRisk and youtube channel is https://www.youtube.com/user/wxdave1, twitter is  https://twitter.com/wxriskcom). This guy KNOWS HIS SHIT.

Is this place dead or what?

Cocoa said she was gonna do a post about Youtube killing my last show… but she didn’t.

I was doing my usual Friday show thing, this time using Youtube (which, parenthetically speaking, used to have no issue with it – but times and rules change, eh?) and just after 2 hours they shut me down. I could read the chat and see people saying I had been shut down, but I couldn’t type anything at all so I had no way of telling everyone good night. I got an email later that night saying they shut me down because “Due to a copyright match, your stream was interrupted”. I am amused by this because I had been on for over 2 hours. So did the “copyright match” take place earlier and it took them some time to react, OR was the song that was playing at that exact moment trigger the match? Who knows. I do know that based on the experience of many other streamers, Youtube will never tell me. So anyway, I am crossing Youtube off the list of places to do a show.

Got an email concerning perpetual guest numbers on Ivlog. The emailer said that they have had the same guest number for the last 2 days. They said that they ran CCleaner, deleted their cookies and so on and so forth and still had the same guest number. I went to Ivlog and lo, the assigned number I got seemed to want to stick. I blew out all the ivlog cookies (there are several of them) and removed ivlog from my history, returned to ivlog and… same guest number. IP linked? So then I removed the cookies and history and waited until the next day to go back. Now I had a different guest number. The sad and tiny little fellow that runs Ivlog really really REALLY wants to know who everyone is that uses that site. Be aware that this change in assigning a guest number is probably not in your best interests.

Goutboy might be feeling some heat from a certain sports league. I went looking to see who was showing preseason NFL games on the Miscellaneous channel and lo, nary a game was to be found anywhere on the entire site. Interesting, very interesting as Arte Johnson used to say.

There was a spot of excitement on Twitter today as they were streaming a Madden ’19 tournament out of Jacksonville, Florida and some beta male took losing his round to heart and proceeded to shoot the venue up and then put one through his own head. Dear suicidal losers: PLEASE, make your last shot your first shot. Blow your own pathetic brains out before you shoot other people. Thank you. Invest in metal detector stocks now, because this guy has just given every business that caters to groups larger than two a reason to buy one. Every news site in the world linked to Twitter for the video of when the shooting started, so Twitter, in a moment of brilliant business insight, pulled the video down. No free advertising for you, come back, one year.

Be careful out there, people.

Cr3am the Nazi

A picture is worth 1000 words, so I’ll let this screen cap taken at 5AM (10AM Cr3am time, in other words mid-morning) speak for itself.

Dietary Tips

As a man of distinguished years (i.e., old), I have been exposed to numerous philosophies, world views, observations, anecdotes, witticisms and all manner of folk wisdom. In this current decade I made the acquaintance of a brilliant philosopher from the Great State of Texas who informed me of a TRUE FACT: All women are crazy and all men are stupid.

I mention this because last night, I proved the above axiom true, yet again. For supper, I had a large bowl of chocolate ice cream, many many handfuls of goldfish crackers and most of a container of bacon bits.

To say that my stomach became upset is a laughable understatement. Cramps, spasms, explosive emissions of the sonic and semi-solid nature, pain, regret, sorrow, strange and unnatural noises coming from my torso while a hyper boa constrictor wrestles a pack of rabid weasels for control of my colon, wishing for and then praying for a swift death to deliver me from my plight… yes, all this and more describes my evening.

In all honesty, a six year old left alone at home would probably make better dietary choices than I.

I am a man, ergo I am stupid.

3 for 3

I have a little game I like to play. It’s called “Can I get Cookie Shitlips to ban me with just one post”.

I have been playing this game for some time, and as with any great endeavor, I seem to go in streaks. Right now, I am on a fucking tear. Over the weekend I got booted out of her channel 3 times on as many posts. In this game, that is counted as a Flawless Victory.

A year or so ago, Yetta was obviously on some sort of mood management medication, or maybe it was just some hog tranquilizers, because I could not BUY a boot out of her channel on VL. I was, needless to say, quite depressed. I stood in front of a mirror and berated myself for a lack of skill, talent and imagination. Happily for me, after awhile her meds ran out and she was back to being the irritable termagant with the eggshell ego that we all know and despise.

She is apparently back in a manic phase right now, so I would encourage both readers of this fabulous blog to pay a visit to her channel on CrAm’s website and rattle her cage. Just take a few moments to listen to whatever she is droning on about, then flatly contradict her (bonus points for using “tripcode” in your post) and see if you too can piss her off badly enough to pop you after 1 post.

A Mixed Family

Well, yet another of my brother’s offspring is turning us into a Mixed family.

After multiple generations of soldiers on my father’s side of the family tree, my younger brother’s oldest son went off and joined the Marine Corps. I was able to take that in stride, because they do have some damn fine looking dress uniforms (not to mention Daniel had been dead set on joining the USMC since he was around 14 years old and never made a secret of it).

Now, Daniel’s youngest brother is doing something that leaves me aghast, bewildered, shocked, bamboozled, slick-jawed, dazed and in all other ways totally corn-fused. He is going to the University of Tennessee.

Now you just have to understand something here. All of us, every last one of us, went to NCSU. My brother, my wife, my kids, hell, I suspect my dog went to State. When you cut one of us, we bleed Wolfpack Red. And now, this young scallywag is going to Tennessee??

They say change is good. In any event, of course I wish him the very best. He is going to UT for a degree in aerospace engineering with an eye on USMC aviation when he gets out. True story: when he was but a wee lad, he was taken to Parris Island to attend his brother’s graduation from basic. Watching the recruit companies on the parade ground made quite the impression on him and he loudly announced that when he grew up, he was going to be a Marine. His mother looked down at him and said “Over my dead body.” I looked right at my brother and said “well, I guess he’s gonna be a Marine”.

Moms, NEVER tell your boys that can’t do something.

New law: Kansas cops can’t have sex during traffic stops

Yes, at last, police officers in Kansas are now legally prohibited from… well, let me just link to this:

http://www.kansas.com/news/politics-government/article210902319.html

From the article: The new law bans sexual relations “during the course of a traffic stop, a custodial interrogation, an interview in connection with an investigation, or while the law enforcement officer has such person detained.”

I know that I now feel much safer in the knowledge that I can travel to Kansas and not find myself handcuffed to a stair railing in some poorly lit back alley, my pants around my ankles while a demented civil servant gets his freak on using his night stick, a can of mace, and my booty. Well, at least not legally, although what that guy does on his off hours is totally up to him.

Apparently there actually was a Kansas City cop, Roger Golubski by name, who had a history of threatening the ladies of color of Kansas with the arrest of their relatives unless they gave up the goodies. As someone who once was an agent of the state, I must express more than a little surprise at this (along with a 55 gallon drum of disgust) because I know for a fact, cop groupies are a real thing and are not exactly shy. I am guessing Roger got off on the domination aspect of this more than the actual pussy.

 

Yeah. Teachers ought not to screw their students, cops shouldn’t dork people they have arrested, judges shouldn’t “go into chambers” with people on trial, etc., etc. It’s poor form to rely on your job to get laid – unless you’re Fred Garvin.

Good luck, Kansas. From now on when you get stopped for speeding on I-70, the only fucking you will get will be from your insurance company… the way it ought to be.

Going down the wrong road

Well, things are not lookin’ too good over on Camup.TV, where you are about to pay to play.

https://www.camup.tv/features

Starting in June, you gotta come off the hip to the tune of $30 a year if you want anything over and above a stream key. This is a pretty big change for CamUp, and I have to wonder if this change was influenced by the sudden influx of rats broadcasters leaving that shithole site based in Tennessee. This idea of charging people may be backfiring, as I have noticed some channels that were there are suddenly going missing… almost as if they have decided that if they have to pay, they need a site that actually works (more about that shortly).

Live internet broadcasters generally do this shit for fun, until they get on Youtube or Twitch and either have big ol’ titties or content so compelling that they begin to make real money from their broadcasts. On Camup, Ivlog, YawnLive, etc., it’s purely amateur hour. NO ONE is making a dime off their shows, so having to pay to broadcast doesn’t make much sense, unless you really like the site and feel like helping them out with beer money and such. Charging broadcasters, the people that actually provide the content of your website, generally encourages them to do one thing: migrate. They load up the wagon and move to greener (cheaper) pastures and then site owners sit around, scratching their hefty posteriors and wonder where all that traffic went.

Now getting back to CamUp, one of the things you will be paying for (assuming you care to stay & pay) are the guest cams. If you have been to CamUp, you already know where this is going. The guest cams on CamUp are so incredibly flaky, so twitchy, so unpredictable, so unreliable, so frustrating, that Dixie is in for some very unpleasant times when people who have paid money for the feature find that said feature simply does not work …. 80% of the time? 90%? Seriously. I used to do regular shows over there until I grew weary of the inability of the administrator to correct issues, acknowledge issues, own up to mistakes, etc. It was, in point of fact, way too much like dealing with Mark Vaughn. The guest cams were the source of almost all of my in-show complaints.

Dixie’s idea of fixing any issue is to tell you to clear your cache. Apparently, every CamUp user’s cache is infested by demons/aliens who are causing shit not to work and you need to clear that damn cache out, then everything will be fine. This is a theory on my part, but I suspect that telling paying customers to clear their cache is gonna go over like a big ol’ green turd in a pickle jar.

Dixie, when your site was free and people supported you (like I did) because they wanted to, if your shit didn’t work, well, the site was free and we were getting what we paid for. You are fixing to start taking people’s money very soon, and you had best up your game, or you are gonna be returning that money hand over fist.