Woman spots mold on new tampon

[Headline, Huffington Post]

If an ice shelf the size of Texas breaks off the continent of Antarctica and floats away to melt in the sea, it will not directly affect my day, at least until sea levels rise high enough to flood my neighborhood. That sort of global-warming consequence doesn’t trouble me. If all the polar bears disappear tomorrow, I don’t care. I rarely hunt bears, on foot or from a helicopter with a high-powered rifle. I never go to the zoo. They say that when you get the kids every other weekend, you should take them to the zoo, but I’ve never done so. My favorite bar lets me park my children in an empty poker room as long as they keep quiet, so I just take them there.

But global warming vis a vis tampons is another matter. When warmth-loving molds and fungi and viruses begin to invade my personal space, it’s time to take action. I don’t personally use tampons, except perhaps occasionally on my “strange” days, but if mold can go there, what’s to stop it from showing up on, for example, my doobies?

Remember that molds reproduce more quickly than we do, and I’m not just complaining here about the lack of action in my life. Molds evolve quicker. That’s why a mold has already learned how to eat a tampon. Humans have evolved to the point of eating at McDonald’s, true, but McDonald’s is not Modess.

I don’t want to live in a world where I have to compete with an evolved mold for my job. I’m already losing out to our neighbors to the south. I might never work again. Say, could that be an upside to this mold invasion?

But seriously, if molds can learn to eat a tampon, why can’t they learn to eat the tamponee, or tamponess? I don’t wear underpants, but if I did, couldn’t the mold move in there and stage itself for an attack? I’m freaking myself out here.

My buddy tells me that there are molds that can talk. I think that’s what he said. How is that even possible? I guess molds must have mouths or how could they eat? But how tiny those mouths must be. When they talk, you’d be lucky to hear even a squeak. Plus, once you pull the tampon, I’m not wanting to hear the mold’s comments. Or get my ear near it, neither.

Why can the mold feel the global warming and I can’t, anyway? I’ve been spending my nights in the car and it’s cold out there. They say that there are more tornadoes, or is it hurricanes, but all I’m seeing is rain. Cold rain. Cold rain and mold growing on everything.

Crumbling Infrastructure

It’s crumbling, the Infrastructure.

I was driving on the I57 and hit potholes. The crumbling highway, but Holy Cow those potholes shook up the old Firebird’s chassis. The edges of those holes need to be a little more crumbly than they are.

I’m bumbling and grumbling and fumbling and it’s humbling and i’m jumbling things in my head and tumbling and mumbling and my innards are rumbling and i’m stumbling, but by God I’m not crumbling, not yet.

Ever see a bridge crumble? Just sort of melts into the river.

Ever see a structure crumble, whether infra or outfra? The outlines go soft. The thing draws scorn. Fresh scorn. You can’t fix it. Got to tear it down.

I knew a Mongolian kid named Jumble. Never checked the spelling. In English I mean.

Finally, the good news: A crumble is a dish of British origin that can be made in a sweet or savoury version, although the sweet version is much more common. A sweet variety usually contains stewed fruit topped with a crumbly mixture of fat, flour, and sugar. (Wikipedia)

But a crumble doesn’t crumble when it gets old. It petrifies.

The Very Dark Web

The Dark Web is part of the Deep Web. The Very Dark Web is part of the Very Deep Web.

You can make a browser go to the Dark Web, but only by resetting its scruples. No browser can go to the Very Dark Web. Browsing is for winners.

The Dark Web is for the heinous, winners though they may be. There can be visuals on the Dark Web. The Very Dark Web has no visuals. Too dark. Audio only. Mostly low moans.

My grandma visits the Very Dark Web. She’s been dead for years, which tells you something. Her visits do not cheer her up.

The Very Dark Web has a special place for Dark Web visitors. Don’t go there.

Ever hear Elvis do Heartbreak Hotel? The VDW is like that. No love. I went to the VDW after you broke my heart ’cause I couldn’t dance, you didn’t even want me around, and now I’m back to let you know I can really shake ’em down.

The Dark Web is about crime; the Very Dark Web is against crime. McGruff the Crime Dog? He’s down with VDW. Trump’s Justice Department is so mean to McGruff. They hate McGruff. No love for McGruff.

Best machine to use for your visit? A hammer to the head haha. But no, the older the computer the better. Less memory.

What Race Should My Sperm Donor Be? (CNN)

My first thought was to have that multi-child egg-planting procedure so I could have four or five or six babies of various races. I don’t want to get, you know, racial.

But then, why not just go mixed-race? One child, a real mongrel. What’s a better word for that? Cur? Half-breed? Mutt?

Just got my own DNA readout:

23% Abzhui

12% Sangtam

34% Kittian

18% Arbëreshë

13% Tai Lü

What? Did they just take my money and make up words? Look at me. Do I look Tai Lü to you?

So I described the kind of man I want. Big, you know? I told them, you know, I like it kind of rough. Then they told me that the man doesn’t, you know, literally do the deed. I won’t even be awake!

So I just gave them my rules:

  1. Don’t give me the cheapest or the most expensive. Cheap, you get what you pay for. Top of the line, you get lots of extras you don’t need. Give me the most economical (second cheapest).
  2. I buy fresh. No cans. No frozen.
  3. I’ll have what she had. The one driving that red beemer.
  4. I don’t mind drive-through.

Fifty Shades of Teenage Gray

I’m grounded for the day because my boyfriend got me back home last night after midnight. My mom threw a fit. She does not understand what’s going on between Marcus and me and I am not going to try and explain it to her. I can’t even explain it to Marcus.

So now I’m here alone and I thought I’d count the shades we’ve got up in here:

18 lamp shades

11 window shades on the house’s sunny side

5 pairs of sunglasses

6 patches of shade under the shade trees

2 ghosts – Granny and Pop-Pop

3 more ghosts – the cats Fishy, Whiskers and Whiskers Junior

1 “shades of all the things I dream up to pass time!”

4 shades (Mom, Dad, my brother and me) (non-PC term but I’m black so I can use it)

…and what do you know, that’s 50 shades.

Ex-employee Slams Measles Church

Oh, the itch!

Jesus had chicken pox but he never had measles. You can confirm this in the Epistle to the Walmites in the Apocrypha.

Who did have measles? Search the holy writ. Google “measles god jesus the holy trinity a host of angels and saints true republicans” and see what you get. Nada.

And yet, as far as we can determine, by prayer and introspection, neither God nor Jesus was ever vaccinated!  Measles are caused not by invisible “germs,” but by sin, QED.

I was hired by the One True Megachurch as a greeter. My job was to watch for vaccination marks. Or “Satan’s Mark,” as Reverend Amoebes referred to it. Those with the mark were drawn into the church, placed in positions of power, and then blackmailed. The Reverend also had a thing for those marks, so there was some physical monkey business going on as well. I had no problem with the blackmail, as the receipts were used by the Reverend to  further the ends of the church. I wasn’t provided with the details.

It’s surprising how many different types of mark a measles vaccination can cause. Reverend Amoebes never tired of the variety.

Once the Reverend was through with them, the marked church members were banished.

Naturally, quite a bit of measles and mumps was to be found in the congregation, especially among the children, whereas in the rest of the city the diseases were practically nonexistent. The church was being tested by God. Once it passed the test, measles and mumps would break out all over the metropolitan area and everyone in the church would become immune. In the meantime, we were the Job of congregations, questioning not our suffering, everyone looking like spotted chipmunks with cheeks full of nuts.

Everyone but the Reverend, that is. Miraculously, he remained healthy.

So matters would have remained if I had not surprised the Reverend in his  study late one Sunday evening. Later he claimed that I was sneaking in to get at the chest containing his “slush fund.” I could have sworn he was in the vestry with Pearl Price at the time. She was moaning in there for sure. Was it just the itch?

In his study, the Reverend was changing out of his vestments. He liked to go downtown after midnight wearing black. When I walked in on him, he was between shirts and there on his arm was a vaccination mark.  No way I could miss it.

Now, I’m out on the street, unemployed. Obviously didn’t reach the slush fund. No market in town for my job specialty, not until the city comes to its senses and learns to detest vaccinations like I do.

WELCOME, DACA!

Hello.

The island nation of Maripogua do welcome all DACA registrants, of whatsoever age, gender, ethnic heritage, or profession.

Come as you want. We pretend to have English as native language. No dollar needed as the cowrie is our dollar.

Bring no coats! Always warm. Warmer than before in fact. Only the thong will be needed. (Real thong, not Hollywood thong.)

Our president now is Arnold Schwarzenegger if he only going to say yes to we.

Note: Room here for all DACA, but Maripogua will sink below the wave too soon, thanks to US guy sent you here. Now we must find new nation who is generous like we, not like he.