You won’t believe what they’ve done this time. On the other hand…

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.

Twenty-four Minutes!

While browsing Ivlog.tv I found a new broadcaster, blackdick021.  His room was just that, a black dick.  He was live for 24 minutes.  I am impressed that he could stroke it for 24 minutes.

‘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.

Vaughnmas is more like Yawnmas or Vaughnmess

Last night I didn’t feel well.  I think I might have had a touch of food poisoning or maybe it was my nausea from Vaughnmas.

Last night I felt terrible!  I was on the verge of throwing up and other things.  At one point in time my stomach made a noise that scared the furry beasts I have in the house and made me wonder if I needed to go to the hospital.  I had actually forgotten about the Vaughmas, it’s just not calendar worthy.

I decided to scroll through the Ivlog before I went to bed and stumbled into Bubbaganoosh’s room.  He was watching the Vaughnmas while casting.  I must say after hearing some of Vaughnmas over his computer this was the best way to watch the load of fecal matter that was the Vaughnlive holiday program.

Bubbaganoosh made it tolerable.  Although I did throw up a few times and had a headache, I’m not sure if it was the vaughnmess or the food poisoning.

Also, I didn’t come up with Yawnmas or vaughnmess, those were some clever terms used to describe the waste of time that I will never get back. Merry Christmas.

Merry Vaughnmas?

What the fuck is Vaughnmas?  Which one of the vaughns, the owners of vaughnlive.tv, thinks they are comparable to Christ?  Are they smoking the weed?

If you are one of the fools who have still bought into the vaughns I guess you can participate in their second annual ‘vaughnmas’.  I can’t imagine who is still casting on the site to actually send in a small video they can play on this vaughmas cast.  

Of course I will be there to report my findings.  I would rather have a tooth extracted and a colonoscopy at the same time but Handsome Mork is very demanding.

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.

I get back to this…..

I must say I was a bit disappointed when she stated she bought a new toy and this was it.

I’ve been out of town, actually I’ve been stuck in a Guatemalan prison for reasons I can’t say at the moment. (When the press obtains the story I will give my story to Handsome Mork first then sell it to the press for one million dollars and attorney’s fees.)

I arrive back to Handsome Mork telling me that Cookie Lipshitz has actually found this blog. I couldn’t believe it, the blog has arrived (not really)! I checked out Cookie’s social media broadcast on Ivlog.tv tonight to hear her ramble on about bike lanes in New York City and thought of her in a police hat (it made me giggle), and then it happened. She mentioned the blog! Cookie, please, say the name of the blog, come on. If you are going to mention this blog, say the name of it. I would hate for others to think of a different blog, and they are out there aren’t they?

During my absence Handsome Mork wrote a post about revolver maps, which seems to be a widget to show where your IP address is physically located. Please see Handsome Mork’s post about revolver maps for all the details. It seems Cookie had revolver maps on her Ivlog page but due to a site policy change, no one on Ivlog is allowed to use IP trackers anymore. In the absence of said widget she bought herself a mini globe to tell her where all her viewers were viewing from. She also asked to have her photo taken so she can be on the blog. Ask and ye shall receive Cookie.

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.

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.

Think Again

I did something this morning that I haven’t done in quite some time.  I logged into Ivlog.  I noticed a new name on the main page.  It was a new name, no photo had a few viewers.  I clicked it, going into a new room is always exciting!  It’s like a box of chocolates, you never know what your going to get! This was not my favorite chocolate that’s for sure! I thought for a bit that Ivlog had turned into the newest porn site for live viewers but I was wrong.

For those of you who love chocolate:

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.

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.

Let’s play “WHAT IF…”

WHAT IF… Twiggy had been born in Ireland as a male.

Well, this one is easy. Twiggy as a male would be that parasite widely known as Ireland’s Patriot. Yes, the human stick figure with the incredible hydrocephalic noggin and the somewhat over-exaggerated opinion of himself (and by “somewhat”, I mean “infinitely”) is obviously the male Irish Twiggy. The resemblance is nothing short of remarkable.

Ireland’s Pissant has been hanging out in the live chat on the UKMuppets carrying on deep and meaningful conversations with himself, as is his wont. He vomited up these pearls just a short time ago:

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I have no idea who “Junior” is, but seriously, NO ONE on the planet is going to walk the other way when they see the scrawny apparition that is Ireland’s Patriot. The Pissant rambles on about old people and how they all hate him (pssssst, shit head, everyone hates you. That club is open to all applicants. No age restrictions apply) and they are all anons and old and also they are old. It seems blimp-head has a thing about age. I think he hates his mother and this is his way of expressing it.

 

Remember this one? Mommy makes IP cry, cry like a wee lass, as they say in the Land of Lucky Charms.

SlayaSweetie – Asshole of the Month

When called out about her doxing on the JTV chatango shoutbox, first she lied, then she gave excuses, then she asked the peanut gallery if they wanted my IP address.

What a fucking asshole.

The porcine New Zealander denied breaking the only rule of McGregor’s shoutbox. When confronted with a screencap of her guilt, she then argued that what she did was alright because it had been done on battlecam and facebook already. When it was pointed out to her that what was posted elsewhere had no bearing on what she posted in the shoutbox, she then said it was alright because it was someone’s arrest record.

When I refused to roll over and demanded that she remove herself from the chatbox, she then offered up my IP address to the assembled anons, thereby demonstrating a continued willingness to keep on doxing.

Slaya, you are an unmitigated, dyed-in-the-wool, pure ASSHOLE. You are a liar, a hypocrite, you are a wannabe Scruffy, abusing your moderator status in McGregor’s chatbox.

Rest assured, if the opportunity ever comes my way for payback, it will be delivered with interest.

Some Pigs are more equal than others.

Animal Farm was required reading in the sixth grade, and there is a very famous line in the final chapter: ALL ANIMALS ARE EQUAL. BUT SOME ANIMALS ARE MORE EQUAL THAN OTHERS.

In yet another example of how life imitates art, a moderator on the JTV Shoutbox broke the one and only rule of the JTV Shoutbox, and is going to get away with it.


 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I have no doubt she will find it in her heart to forgive herself.

Now GoutBoy is leaving us!

First, Scruffy announced her imminent departure (and there was much rejoicing):

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Now it would appear that whatever Scruffy has (Hashbrown Syndrome or Australian Crotch Rot or some other exotic disorder) has been contracted by her progeny, the obese coder himself, GoutBoy.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Yes, GoutBoy is in “horrific fucking pain”, which is one level above “ouchy booboo pain”. In point of fact, GoutBoy says that he feels like “someone is shoving a railroad spike into my ear”. I suspect there is no shortage of volunteers for the position of Railroad Spike Shover. I’m not doing anything this weekend, so if those parties currently doing the railroad spike shoving need a break, please let me know in the comment section and I shall be on the way in short order.

Bon Voyage, GoutBoy. The road to hell is paved in railroad spikes.