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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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 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.

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.

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.

Sure, it isn’t a movie, but it does make me cry.

Laughing until you cry counts, right?

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.

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.

So I am chit chatting and

Not exactly how the shit is supposed to work, Mr Cram.

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:

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.