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

Got myself an Annie

Being an old man, I figured I may as well get a .22 that was a step or two up from a 10/22 (not that there’s anything -wrong- with a 10/22, mind you), so I talked to one of my cousins who, along with his charming Mrs, competes at a professional level with .22 caliber rifles. After talking with him for some number of hours, I had settled on getting one of the top end CZ models, when he said the fateful words “one more rifle to consider is the Anschutz…”

Well, after doing a couple of days of research into Anschutz sporting rifles, I called my cousin up and to make a long story short, I ordered a 1761 with the threaded barrel.

I had to get some optics and there was a six month wait on my tax stamp for the can (which, based on my last stamp, was not a long wait at all), and getting the right rings turned into a saga unto itself, but in due time everything came together. Now I wait for some decent weather so I can run off and find out what particular brand and flavor of ammunition this rifle likes to eat. My cousin gave me some RWS, Eley, Lapua, SK and Aguila to try out, I have gathered up some Norma, CCI target and a few other American made brands.

I’m looking forward to going out with one of my uncles (which, coincidentally, is the father of the aforementioned cousin) and spending the day poking holes in paper. 


Her like shall not be seen again

Lee Anne Wilson, AKA “Frozen Fruity” (or for you old timers on BlogTV and Yahoo Live, “Nothing But Fun”) has passed away from the Big C and complications thereof.

As is usually the case, word of this reached me by indirect methods, and while I know intentions are good, I have a need to get to the bottom of things when I am told someone has passed on.

Sadly, I have spoken to a family member who confirms that Lee Anne had received an injury that was not healing as it should, which lead to the discovery of a cancer she did not know she had, and then a host of other complications set in and before you know it…

For those of you that knew her, you were aware that she was a woman of exceptionally rare beauty, on the inside (where it really counts) as well as the outside. She had an amazing singing voice that she really hated to be complimented on (boy howdy, did Dan and I visit her woodshed more than once over that subject, and yet, as befits the mysterious ways of the female of the species, there are youtube videos of her in various karaoke shows), she brooked little to no shit from anyone, and when she flipped you off (and I got flipped off more than anyone, I think), she had middle fingers that … well, they were long and not easily missed. She was the yin to Dan’s yang and made him an absurdly happy man while he was on this earth and I know she missed him terribly when he passed away 2 years ago. She leaves behind a pair of granddaughters that she loved dearly and a small, extremely eclectic group of internet friends that will miss her presence for years to come. I don’t think she loved us like her granddaughters, but she was genuinely fond of some of us and she tolerated me (from time to time, to a degree). I count myself as fortunate.

So never again will I intone the phrase “Ladies and gentle, please give a large (insert site name here) welcome to the one, the only… FROZEN FRUITY.” I’m gonna miss doing that. Slowly but surely, the OG of social broadcasting is departing the realm; with her passing the stage grows dimmer for us all.

Printers, I hate them so very, very much

I despise a fucking printer. I honestly think it would just be cheaper and easier to have a full-time scribe sitting in my office and let them write out whatever I need to print. Bar codes might be a bit tricky…

So here I am, this damned Canon I bought to replace the Konica which I bought to replace a something or other isn’t printing for shit, and no matter how many clean head and deep clean heads cycles I run, it prints like shit. So, I am buying yet another damn printer.

I still have the Konica. It’s a beast of a color laser jet, but it’s a cool $500 to get new “ink” (yeah, I know laser jets don’t use ink, they use johnson and johnson talcum powder that goes everywhere, sticks to everything and never comes off. It’s great stuff). I bought a refill kit a few years ago and that was a waste of money, a waste of time and likely caused several people in my proximity to arm themselves because the crazy bastard on the 3rd floor had finally lost it for real. This is THE TRICK for printers. The printer is cheap. The ink… oh boy, do they have you by the short hairs on the ink. I looked at replacing the ink in this Canon I will shortly be throwing out, ink cartridges made by Mao Tse Dung are 10 to 15 dollah, while the Canon branded ones are $65. Hmmmmm, this is quite a difference. One set is crap (you do indeed get what you pay for) and the other set is grossly over-priced. So I am doing the only thing I can.

I just bought another printer. It’ll be here early next week. Going with a monochrome laser by HP that has refill kits that sell for around $20 (I ordered 2 of them with the printer). I expect the print quality will be crap for a laser, but hopefully I can get more than two years out of it.

Probably won’t.

On vaccinations

In 1967, dear old Dad was given orders to report to Baumholder, WEST Germany (back then, that “WEST” meant a great deal) and that meant once again packing up the possessions and moving to yet another in a series of Strange Lands.

In 1967, the Department of Defense still regarded Europe as it did in the 1940s, a haven for every germ, virus, disease and infection vector known to mankind, so orders for Germany meant shots. Lots and lots of shots. These were not optional shots, these were “shut your fucking mouth, roll up your sleeve and deal with it” shots. The shots were spaced out over a set time frame, as the military had a great deal of experience as to the order the shots could be given and the time interval in between. Some shots did not require much of an interval (read: no interval at all), so one very memorable morning I got one in the left arm, then one in the right arm, and then another one in the left arm. By the time we set foot in the semi-mythical place we call Europe, we were as immune (read: resistant) to any germ that made its home from the Cliffs of Dover to the Iron Curtain as the medical technology of the day could make us. And that is the how and why of a vaccination: it exposes you to some (for lack of a more scientific phrase) watered down form of Germ X, which in turns tells your body to manufacture antibodies to combat this evil germ should it be encountered. If things go ideally, you may well be exposed to Germ X and your antibodies dispose of it so efficiently that you never even know the exposure occurred.

What the vaccinations will not do is render you invulnerable, they will not melt your brain, they will not rewrite your DNA and turn you into a dog, they will not guarantee that you don’t get sick from Germ X. They just stack the deck in your favor as best they can.

The mRNA vaccines that have been rolled out to fight the Chinese War Virus of 2019 are “new” in the sense that this is the first time mRNA has been used in the general population (as a side note for any geeks reading this, an mRNA trial was carried out in 2018 for folks with a rare genetic disorder that leads to extreme plaque buildup, said test was a success). The method by which they work is new, but the effect they have is fairly much identical to the “dead germ” viruses we all grew up with. The mRNA alerts your innards to “be on the lookout” for a particular bad actor (said bad actor being mentioned above) and reacting by attacking the bad guy if it is detected. Just like any other vaccine, you do NOT have 100% immunity to the targeted “germ”, but the deck is being stacked in your favor. Think of annual flu shots here – you may still get the flu, but the odds (chances, likelihood of outcome, etc.) say that your case will be milder and therefore potentially less likely to put you in a pine box, which is a real possibility, especially for the old, the young, the infirm and the unlucky.

You get dealt one hand of cards in life; if you can stack that deck in your favor, you’re a fool not to do it. Politics, religion, race, gender… they have not one goddamned thing to do with it.

Also of note, keep in mind that the average IQ is 100. In the US, it’s actually closer to 95. Always remember that half of the people around you are dumb, too dumb to stack the deck. Also remember the last thing the referee says to both fighters before the match begins: keep your guard up and protect yourself at all times. What I wrote may seem to be a non-sequitur, but it isn’t.

Get the shots.


Regardless of the verdict of the Circus in Minneapolis, downtown is gonna burn yet again. I could refer back to my post of several months ago wherein the county coroner informed the *prosecution* that George Floyd died from an overdose, but no one needs to bother with facts when they have the story that has been repeated ad nauseum by virtually every media outlet in the world. Stories with headlines such as “Helpless Black Man Has Neck Crushed By KKK Loving Police” sell a lot more papers than stories that are titled “Overdose Claims Another Life”. So, this all makes sense from a business perspective, and screw anyone who happens to get caught up in the wake of the narrative.

Here’s what’s going to happen:

  1. Officer Badman is found not guilty based on the evidence presented – riots, burning, undocumented shopping go on for roughly 1 week until nothing is left to burn or steal.
  2. Officer Badman is found guilty regardless of evidence, does/does not appeal – riots, burning, undocumented shopping go on for roughly 1 week until nothing is left to burn or steal.
  3. Officer Badman is found guilty, the ground underneath him splits open, Satan rises from hell and claims him on the spot – riots, burning, undocumented shopping go on for roughly 1 week until nothing is left to burn or steal.

There is no way around what’s going to happen. Short of sending in the 82nd Airborne Division with fixed bayonets and a decided willingness to use them, nothing is going to stop the second raping of downtown Minneapolis. If you live there, move. If you own property there… no one will buy it, so donate it to some left wing organization so they get to pitch in on the tax hike that is coming to pay for the clean up. And this won’t be confined to Minneapolis, no sir, not by a long shot. Why should their looters have all the fun?

This will be yet another summer spent indoors, avoiding downtown areas from coast to coast because every single one of them has the potential to turn into a war zone in a matter of seconds (be careful who you blow your horn at, etc) and will add a few more million first-time firearms owners to the rolls. It will suck for them, because last summer the shelves at the gun stores were cleaned out and are no where near replenished. Those first time buyers will have a very limited selection, prices will be at quite a premium (it’s called “supply & demand”) and ammunition… good luck finding any at all.

I was amused this morning

Like many SENIOR Americans, I find online grocery shopping to be an unmitigated blessing. Today, I ordered my sustenance from the local Wal Mart and arrived at 11AM to pick my order up.

And older gentleman brings my order out and he is very interested in my car.  He was surprised at the room available in the trunk (I should insert here that I drive a sixth generation Camaro, which is justifiably known for being parsimonious on interior space) and stated that he wanted to get one now that he was retired. He was very interested in my specific model, which is the SS with the big engine and the six speed manual transmission (manual transmissions are a BIG selling point for us grandfathers, we are amongst the last generation of drivers who had to know how to drive a manual, anyone younger than a 40 something likely has no idea how to make that car move an inch – which is just fine with us).

He said his biggest concern with getting one was the ability to get in and out of the car (and here, I quote him directly) “but when I saw you get out of it…” and then he trailed off, so I finished his sentence for him by saying if a fat bastard like me can get in and out, he will have no trouble at all. Then we shared the laugh of the old people, bid one another farewell and we went in our respective directions.

I must admit, I am pleased to be a role model to old fat guys in this great land of ours. I hope he gets his dream car, as I believe they will only be made for a couple of more years.

To the surprise of no one…

First, a quote from the settings page of an channel:

“Stream Keys are available if you purchase a Pro Account. Please note, even if your Pro Account expires you will still be able to use your stream key.”

So about all those pro accounts I had purchased… they seem to be absent, n’est-ce pas?

So I loaded up my streamkey and RTMP server information into OBS (I keep stream keys and server info in a text file because who the hell can remember all that shit? Not me.) and abso-fucking-loutely nothing happened. Apparently that bit about “even if your pro account expires” bullshit is exactly that, bullshit.

I can’t say that I am exactly shocked by this. In point of fact, I would have to say my expectations have been met. In all aspects of the operation of his site, he will never miss an opportunity to lie, cheat or steal. Good job, Cram! Consistency is the key to greatness, and you are, without a scintilla of doubt, one of the greatest assholes on the internet. I salute your ability to compete with Gout Boy and his Allergic-to-Everything Mother when it comes to being an asshat of the purest ray serene.

The Journey is complete

As of 00:01 hours, I am now on Medi… medicare? Medicade? I will be fucked if I know. I am now officially so old that terms such as “geezer”, “grandpa” and “old-timer” are considered polite ways of referring to me. Excuse me if I prefer to go with my well-earned title of “that grumpy old son of a bitch”.
When the sun comes up, I will sally forth from my domicile, cane in hand, and rap on the windows of various businesses and ask them if they have seen my old hound, “Spot”.  Ha. The joke will be on them, I have no hound of any age named Spot.

HAHAHAHAHA, that’s right. His name is Spot.


The air is cleaner.

The world is a better place.

I am gonna hit some of the Crown Royal Black to commemorate the occasion.

Cheers, assholes. You know who you are.


Ya know what, fuck the Crown Royal, I’m cracking open the Woodford Reserve.

I have questions

Sponge Cake. What sort of sponges does one use? I’m here to tell you, I have tried five or six different brands of sponges (including that Mr Clean Magic Eraser thing, but isn’t EXACTLY a sponge, but it’s close) and they all tasted absolutely terrible.

If anyone can give me some tips on how to make an edible sponge cake, my neighbor’s dog will thank you.

And nothing has been learned

And so we do it again…

Atlanta, Georgia. Drunk, passed out behind the wheel in a drive through line at a fast food restaurant. OF COURSE THE COPS WERE CALLED.

Cops show up and the drunk wants to fight two agents of the state who really would love to be somewhere else right now.

Because these agents of the state are not putting their all into the fight, the drunk grabs one officer’s taser and takes off for the hills.

Chase is given to the combative moron, who turns and fires the taser at his pursuer (oddly, the media didn’t seem to show that part of the bystander footage).

Having been fired upon… you’re dead.

This is so fucking simple that it defies credulity that this happens over and over and over again: DO NOT PUT YOURSELF IN A POSITION OF CONFLICT WITH THE COPS.

Steve Sailer sums it all up very nicely in one of his posts, the zeroeth amendment to the Constitution of the United States: Congress shall make no law requiring a black man to be arrested if he’s just not in the mood to be arrested.

Yeah… funny how this just keeps happening. Gonna be a long summer, I think.

Random Thoughts @ 1:44 AM

Optimistic thinking:

“We’re born alone, we live alone, we die alone. Only through our love and friendship can we create the illusion for the moment that we’re not alone.” – Orson Welles

Realistic thinking:

“We are all alone, born alone, die alone, and—in spite of True Romance magazines—we shall all someday look back on our lives and see that, in spite of our company, we were alone the whole way. I do not say lonely—at least, not all the time—but essentially, and finally, alone. This is what makes your self-respect so important, and I don’t see how you can respect yourself if you must look in the hearts and minds of others for your happiness.” – Hunter S. Thompson

True insight:

“What kind of rat bastard psychotic would play that song- right now, at this moment?” – Hunter S. Thompson

I ain’t got nobody, says Big Fat Man Baby.

As the song says:

I ain’t got nobody
Nobody, nobody cares for me, nobody, nobody
I’m so sad and lonely
Sad and lonely, sad and lonely

Jogvan, du har nogle meget smukke læber.

Oh Faroe, you silly boy, that simply isn’t true.

No one likes you on any platform. You are a nasty, vile piece of work all the way down to the dark and malodorous core of your being.

N, R, P 95 99 100

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.


Some things NEVER change

The BigFatManBaby from Denmark’s Lost Colony now makes his home on, 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.

You are 50% banned


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.

An asshat by any other name

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.


A new land speed record

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.