 Always remember, no matter the subject, you heard it here first! Back in 2016 we reported at least three separate incidents connected to Waffle House restaurants. There was the woman who stood up during breakfast took off her clothes and began hurling dishes around the place. Next there was the man who stood outside a Waffle House naked and was upset that the employees wouldn’t let him inside (go figure). Umm, there was the Waffle House wherein women employees were using a vat of hot water (probably used to make grits) to style their hair. We even told you about Mr. Robin’s own experience in a Waffle House in OKC early one morning. What is it about Waffle House? Personally, I’ve always liked the chain. Very consistent food starting with GREAT grits and coffee. But there seems to be a lot of disgruntled employees (not to mention weird patrons) there, again go figure. So now there’s a report out of Waffle House in Memphis wherein two women got into a punching match during the breakfast rush over who was supposed to be washing dishes. You know, if you’re going to have a restaurant you kinda need clean dishes. It seems that a woman who was supposed to have washed dishes was coming off shift. When the dishwasher coming on shift saw the pile she told the other woman to wash them. Said other woman refused pointing out that she had already clocked out. That’s when the punching got started. The place was packed and there was no shortage of amateur filmmakers getting video of the action as it took place. These were apparently solid punches. Four men tried to break it up, but got their asses kicked for their trouble. Stuff is crashing to the ground. The customers seem to be enjoying the floor show. Finally, the woman who started the melee heads for the door shouting that she’s going to press charges. Then she turns back toward the counter where the other woman remains and begins screaming, “I'm gonna beat your motherf*****g a**! Don't you ever hold me, don't you ever f*****g hold me, do you hear me?” Yes, we hear you…you don’t like to be held. Can I eat my grits now? The cops show up although things had long since cooled down. It is unclear as to whether any charges were filed. It’s even more unclear as to who finally washed the damned dishes. Happy Friday everybody. Hopefully you’re somewhere other than a Waffle House restaurant today. If you go, take body armor. I’m still here at Burning Man 2018. Will be glad when this adventure is behind me. These people are nuts. Every day that goes by more clothing comes off. Not that I’m opposed to nudity or anything, but after several days of it…trust me, it’s all been done. I’ve not seen Cousin Fred or Friend Lamont for 48 hours now. Trying to find them in this mass of savage humanity (70,000) is near impossible. I’ll hold down the fort here at Friend Lamont’s RV and hope for the best. Martinis tonight at 5 if you’re in the neighborhood. The winds are picking up again and the dust is starting to blow around. I ate breakfast this morning at (and I’m not making this up), The Pussy Wagon’s Sausage Fest at the Trash Fence. I know what you’re thinking, but they really did have sausage. It was billed as a meat and greet. Today is the last day for the Paint the Wall Event…it’s a 24-foot wall that people are encouraged to paint. Tomorrow the wall will be disassembled, and the panels gifted to people in the local community. I figure I’ll paint a plea to find my traveling companions. Hopefully, they’ll turn up soon. If not, I guess I’ll have to hotwire the RV to get myself out of this desert. That is all!  Happy Hump Day from Burning Man 2018 in Black Rock Desert. And, I use the term Hump Day in the most innocuous manner possible. Although the #Metoo Movement got through to festival organizers and nearly forced a shutdown of the traditional Orgy Dome, there were plenty of other sites here at the site wherein people can wiggle and giggle. But not Cousin Fred and I…no sir, we ain’t misbehavin’! Actually, we’re something of prisoners here now. Yesterday the Nevada DOT shut down the road that feeds the festival site to repair potholes. Really? They couldn’t do that before the festival started or at worst wait until it ended? Now, festival organizers are having trouble getting ice and port-a-potty services into the grounds. Fascists! Bet they’re taking lessons on inconveniencing people from ODOT, but I’ll save that for another time, another post. For those of you playing along at home…we did hear from Gigi that Cousin Fred’s application as a grower of medical marijuana in Oklahoma has already been approved! I have no idea how we’re going to actually make that happen, but we’ll sort it out if/when we make it back to The Compound. This morning I’m headed over to the Iguana Chill Camp Wigwam to hear a discussion of astrophysics. Supposedly they have a real astrophysicist over there. Why not? It’ll kill some time. But first, I’m headed to the Kentucky Fried Camp for a fried bologna sandwich chased with a shot of Kentucky bourbon (breakfast of champions!). I never see anything of Cousin Fred or Friend Lamont until about 3pm. I’m trying to take in as much as I can. Not likely I’ll ever come back here again. After all, it sounds as though I’ll be farming medical marijuana this time next year. Friend Lamont was complaining of a sore tooth yesterday afternoon. I’ve made a couple of inquiries. Apparently, there is a real dentist at the aid station here. I’ll try to get him over there this afternoon to get it looked at. At least I hope it’s a real dentist, I saw something go across my newsfeed overnight about a woman who has been arrested in Georgia for practicing dentistry without a license. Mugshot is above. And, she’s been doing it for the past six years in both Texas and Georgia. She has even gone so far as to open practices in both states. One of her unwitting “patients” in Texas developed an abscess the size of a tennis ball after she pulled a tooth. Over the time that she’s been playing at being a dentist, she has pulled crowns, applied fillings, replaced crowns, and even prescribed meds. How is that possible you ask? There are officials/regulators in Texas and Georgia trying to figure that out now. When CBS News tracked her down for comment, she reportedly said, “It’s a sad situation.” You think, you bat sh*t crazy idiot? But pressed for an answer as to whether the charges against her - which include 40 counts of practicing without a license, three counts of forging prescriptions, and three counts of insurance fraud – are true, she swears they aren’t and that the DA in Georgia is on some sort of personal vendetta. Uh huh. Prosecutors expect more charges to be brought as more victims come forward. AND, get this…she’s married to a deputy sheriff. WTF? Life is insane enough without having to worry whether your healthcare provider got their training from YouTube videos. Just saying. That is all.  We’re at Tuesday and charging forward here at Burning Man 2018 with some 70,000 of our closest friends. It took quite a while to get my two travel companions up and around yesterday. Both were worn out, burned out, hungover from the previous night. Last night was not different. We were floating from party to party well into the night. I’ve been amazed at the number of things there are to do around here. In fact, it’s a bit overwhelming at times. Literally, the events run 24-hours a day. Yesterday, while waiting for Friend Lamont and Cousin Fred to show, I took a knife throwing lesson over in one of the camps. After that, I sauntered over to enjoy some BBQ at another site. Late yesterday afternoon as we were enjoying a pitcher of martinis made by Friend Lamont (our BM version of Happy Hour) under the RV’s awning, we were joined by a fellow Burner. It was a woman dressed in a full-length fake fur open in the front with nothing underneath. She had tucked into her arm a really angry-looking, aged Chihuahua that she said was named Puddles. Interestingly, the woman wouldn’t tell us her name. She said it didn’t translate well. She was looking for Seaside Blondie who has yet to contact us to claim her BM pass. She had a couple of martinis and wandered off. Of course, all of the goings on around here haven’t kept me from constantly checking my newsfeed. I saw there was much controversy when The White House initially lowered its flag to half-staff over the weekend in honor of John McCain, but then raised it right back to full-staff on Monday morning. Fearless Leader seemed pretty smug about it all, but then consented to have it lowered back to half-staff Monday afternoon after a nearly full day of blowback for having raised it back up so soon. Wow, Fearless Leader listening to critics. Go figure. I would normally have just let it all go, but then I saw something come past about that old fool James Inhofe weighing in and defending Fearless Leader. For those of you who may not know Inhofe, he’s a U.S. Senator from Oklahoma who has been in D.C. far too long. When he comes back to Oklahoma to visit constituents, he flies himself around in his private plane and insists that constituents and/or media come out to whatever airport to meet him. To say Inhofe is a conservative would be a gross understatement. He is a rabid, vehemently unapologetic conservative. And, he has no qualms about going on television to express whatever is crossing his brain at the time. He knows he’s a senator for life, mostly because undereducated Oklahomans believe he is the Messiah come to reestablish the Norman Rockwellian America in which they all grew up. Inhofe, who is expected to succeed McCain as chair of the powerful Senate Armed Services Committee, told a group of reporters that McCain was “partly to blame” for The White House flag controversy. Huh? No, seriously. He went on to tell reporters that McCain “disagreed with the president in certain areas and wasn’t too courteous about it.” Umm. Okay, everyone knows that McCain and Fearless Leader hated one another and didn’t take any steps to try to hide it. During the presidential campaign, Fearless Leader was quoted as saying about former Vietnam War POW John McCain that he was “not a war hero” because he was captured. “I like people that weren't captured,” Trump said on national television. Yeah, lots of courtesy there. Of course, McCain didn’t mince words when he went public after Fearless Leader’s meeting with Vlad the Poot Putin this summer in which FL downplayed Russia’s interference in the 2016 general election, saying, “The damage inflicted by President Trump's naivete, egotism, false equivalence, and sympathy for autocrats is difficult to calculate. But it is clear that the summit in Helsinki was a tragic mistake.” But, still…it really irks me that Inhofe would weigh in. Ass kisser. Just shut up and fly your plane. That is all!  Happy Monday everyone! I’m happy to report we’re alive amid the mass of near-naked humanity at Burning Man 2018. It wasn’t fun yesterday. I can tell you, I’m glad we made it here early yesterday to claim our spot for Friend Lamont’s RV. Of course, it took us four hours to get through the queue to claim that spot. But, that was only the start… The winds came up and by 3:30 yesterday afternoon they (the winds) were honking at 60mph with near zero visibility because of all the dust (see the photo). Soon thereafter they closed the gates because it became too dangerous trying to move around the site. We hunkered down inside the RV and rode it out. Finally, after several hours of that, they reopened the gates, but people streaming into the site went on until about 3AM. This morning it was a very cool 50-ish degrees and almost zero wind. Go figure. Oh, that’s the other thing – so, we were counting on the desert sun and high temps to help us wrap the RV in a silver mylar shrink wrap, right? Guess what? This is high desert. The daytime temps are in the low 80’s. Cousin Fred is an idiot. I should have guessed that this desert being almost due east of Reno wouldn’t be blazingly hot. So now we’re stuck with a 200-foot roll of silver mylar shrink wrap. We did wrap the RV in the crime scene tape late last night, so we don’t look like a complete herd of tools out here. No, not a complete herd, just a partial one. I have to admit this is quite a spectacle. After the winds sort of died down, we all went out and roamed around. Visited the Dick Garden Farmer’s Market. For some reason, Cousin Fred felt he had to go over there and see what that was all about. Basically, they were handing out free vibrators and condoms. Today there’s a dildo decorating contest going on over there. I’m sure Cousin Fred will attend. Other than that, there were parties every 10 feet or so. We roamed around drinking and listening to music until well after midnight. Well, I went until after midnight before heading back to the RV (ain’t misbehavin’). I left Cousin Fred and Friend Lamont at the 24/7 Whiskey Saloon where Friend Lamont was banging away at Fats Waller tunes on the piano. The crowd seemed to be enjoying it and was singing along. I have no idea when they came back. They’re both in the RV snoring their heads off now. I’m sitting outside drinking coffee. Beginning to wonder where our friend from Washington State, Seaside Blondie is. I have her pass to get in and figured she would give me a call. The sky is a bit hazy this morning. Supposedly the fires up and down the west coast are causing the haze. Great. Besides the dust, there will be smoke to contend with. This is a lot like being in Oklahoma, except the temperatures aren't as bad. Hopefully, my travel mates will be up soon. I’m anxious to get on with today’s activities…mostly roaming from party to party and drinking (not much else to do around here except watch people, oh and swim naked in mud pools, but we’ll save that for another dispatch). That is all!  Greetings from a Walmart Supercenter somewhere outside of Salt Lake City where we stopped late last night when Friend Lamont became too exhausted to drive another mile. We have another eight hours to go before we hit Black Rock, Nevada for the 2018 Burning Man Festival. After yesterday’s travels, that should be a piece of cake. Friend Lamont and Cousin Fred as still sleeping. I thought I would start putting together today’s post. I wandered into the Walmart a few minutes ago where I discovered a 24-hour McDonald’s. I got myself a cup of coffee and a bacon egg and cheese biscuit. I’m feeling better already. I’m sitting on a folding chair outside the RV as I’m typing this on the laptop. Didn’t want to disturb my fellow travelers inside. I’m a heavy typer. Although I suppose if Friend Lamont and Cousin Fred can sleep through Cousin Fred’s snoring, the typing probably wouldn’t have disturbed them. You know, I’m beginning to see a trend with CCB. Surprisingly, the recorded almost daily Blogcasts are much more popular than the printed posts. I’m watching the trend and may consider going to all Blogcasts in the near future. Apparently, you’re all too lazy to read what we post. Wait until we finally begin pushing videos out on the Blog (oh, it’s coming!). The thing about pushing any sort of media out onto YouTube or social media is that everyone is doing it. So, it gets tough to try to find the one thing that sets you apart from the others and then convince everyone that you are different and interesting. I watch a lot of video blogs (aka, VLOGs) during the day – had sixteen hours yesterday of not doing much else. It seems everyone has a hook. Topless women (most only showing their bare upper chest and shoulders) seem to be a popular mechanism. I guess if you can’t dazzle people with your content you have to resort to that sort of thing. The problem I have with becoming a viral media genius is the time that’s involved in getting to a finished product. Besides shooting the material you’re going to present, there’s the editing which can take forever to get just right. Of course, I’ve been doing pretty well with the Blogcasts. I’ve been able to get the recording, editing, and publishing down to an hour, but it’s taken a little time to get to that point. And, speaking of content…just about anything goes. I’ve seen daily posts of video blogs wherein you watch someone do the most mundane things. One guy managed to film a housefly on his hand for nearly 4 minutes. That’s all. No sound. Just the housefly on his hand. It occurred to me that it had a very Yoko Ono-ish feel to it. Another example that I came across in a recent report I received on my newsfeed about a hospital security guard in Florida who has become famous making videos of him farting at work. People, I can’t make this sh*t up! The security guard, only known to the world as Doug, is hoping to become the first person ever to make a living from flatulence. Again, people, I can’t make this sh*t up! He credits the viralness of his videos to the “great acoustics” in the hospital lobby and has big plans for merch and music videos. Only, there’s a problem (besides the fact that he’s making videos of him farting). After five months of posting his fart art on Instagram, his employers recently caught wind of it and terminated him. And, before you First Amendment lunatics beginning hollering about freedom of expression, he was fired for: 1) using his phone on the job an unusually high amount of times and, 2) filming himself wearing his security guard uniform on private property. Interesting. But Doug who goes by the viral video name, Paul Flart (homage to the Paul Blart: Mall Cop movie), isn’t put off by being terminated. He’s moving forward with his plans for merchandising, videos, and even graphics. The dude already has 50,000 followers on Instagram. Maybe I need to start doing something really, really stupid to get more followers/subscribers. Will have to give that some thought. I know, I’ll get Cousin Fred involved. Yeah, that’s the ticket, he is King of stupid stunts. We wish Doug/Paul well in his future endeavors but ask that he do us a favor and stay the hell in Florida. Thank you kindly. There’s enough hot gas here in Oklahoma! That is all!  Happy Friday everybody! We’re on the road headed to Black Rock Desert for the Burning Man Festival! Thankfully, I have a laptop and great data plan on my phone so I’m able to issue forth with the posts despite being further away from The Compound on a minute-by-minute basis. We took off this morning at 4AM. We’re somewhere up in Kansas right now (it’s cheaper here you know). It turns out that Cousin Fred’s big idea for decorating the RV at Burning Man is to use a shrink-wrap silver mylar all over it and then wrap it all with crime scene tape. Not the most creative idea I’ll grant you, but it’s weird and, of course, weird sells at Burning Man. I questioned how we’ll get the shrink wrap to shrink, but Cousin Fred pointed out that we’re headed to the desert in northern Nevada where daytime temps should be sufficient to shrink anything. He also mentioned some idea for using magnifying glasses if the ambient heat isn’t enough to shrink the shrink wrap, says there’s lots of sun there. SPOILER ALERT: This will NOT turn out well. Having you been watching Fearless Leader on the news and/or news feeds? I keep expecting a complete Twitter meltdown following the conviction and/or plea deal of two of the Manhattan stooges, but so far nothing. Oh sure, he’s tweeting out snarky comments about this or that with regard to Cohen (he’s a sell-out), Manafort (he’s a poor oppressed innocent angel), and now he’s even taking shots at the head of the Keebler Elf Consortium Jeff Sessions (why is he still working for me?). He’s given an interview to Fox News saying that he can’t imagine the American people impeaching someone who has done such an outstanding job. (cough) And that we’ll all be poorer, and the markets will crash if he is impeached. Uh huh. I’m convinced that he and his thug family are manipulating markets to make them all rich(er). But, I have nothing to back that up, so don’t bother checking Snopes. But, have you noticed that most everyone he has fired to this point lands on their feet with their golden parachute still attached? Seriously, there’s Omarosa whose book has taken off and is selling like hotcakes. And now, even Anthony “The Mooch” Scaramucci is trying to leverage his 11 days of fame as the Fearless Leader’s White House Director of Communications (what the hell was Fearless Leader thinking…oh, never mind). The Mooch tried to sell his own talk show on cable called (and we’re not making this up) “The Mooch’s Table” …the premise of which was to have his guests sit around a dinner table with him and discuss…well, whatever. In his demo tape, his first round of guests included Michael Avenatti (stripper/porn star Stormy Daniels’ attorney), the rapper, actor Saigon, and radio host, publisher, and author Karen Hunter. I know right? How awkward to have Avenatti on there since he presents something of a threat to Fearless Leader’s presidency AND is threatening his own run as a Republican in 2020. In an apparent act of desperation to get the damned show sold, The Mooch, during his first show, revealed that he wet the bed until he was eleven. Seriously, I can’t make this sh*t up! But, alas, it was not enough. The demo is going nowheres (sic). But, The Mooch isn’t done. Oh no! Some genius came up with the idea of a satirical Off-Broadway musical based on the Trump family called, “The 1st Annual Trump Family Special.” It opens in mid-September and runs through December. And, Scaramucci is promoting it. He is quoted as saying, “I think they’d (the Trump Family) would find this very funny. They know how to take a joke.” Uh huh. Well, hopefully he’s making some dough off his efforts. Me thinks we’ll be hearing about The Mooch being found in a New Jersey swamp somewhere. We’re going to push through to the Salt Lake City area tonight (we have a fully stocked RV). And then head on in to Black Rock on Saturday where we’ll hopefully be able to find Seaside Blondie amid the mass of savage humanity. Until the next dispatch… That is all!  And, a very happy hump day to you all. Wednesday for me has always been like sitting atop the first major incline of a roller coaster. You’re up there peering over at the slope you’re about to descend knowing that the weekend is (hopefully) at the bottom. Okay, so much for the niceties. On to business. I have an update to what I posted yesterday. The Hairdressing Hydrologist Gigi revealed last night that following yesterday’s CCB post she is leaning toward Cousin Fred’s discipline as a self-help guru being something she is calling Etherealism. Namely, physical intimate contact with some ghosts as a way of leading yourself out of the funk you may find yourself in. Gigi’s basic philosophy of life for Cousin Fred is that humans by and large suck, so why not reach for something other worldly. The main thrust of Etherealism will be to step outside your known usual world and “embrace the kinetic plasma.” Hmm. I’ll have to give that some more thought, I think. I started to question her about some of the tenets of Etherealism, but she informed me that she is still working through several things. Cousin Fred seems altogether pleased with the direction of his future guration (sic). I know that pervert, he’s likely thinking Roman orgy with a bunch of spooks. But I digress… Friend Lamont arrives today with the RV that will carry us away to the Burning Man Festival in Black Rock, Nevada. By the way, in yesterday’s post I offered Gigi’s ticket for Burning Man to anyone interested in going with us. I’m pleased to announce that someone, Seaside Blondie, has taken me up on the offer. No more tickets…you’ll have to experience Burning Man vicariously through my dispatches from the field (or at least desert) there. Just in case you’re playing along at home, we figured out a way for Cousin Fred to get his online application for growing medical marijuana to the state of Oklahoma when registration opens this Saturday. Gigi will do that also. It makes more sense for her to do it anyway since part of the rules for having anything to do with medical marijuana in Oklahoma (i.e., using, growing, distributing) prohibits anyone with weapons from being issued a license. Gigi is the only person on The Compound without an assortment of weapons to her name. So, that works. Honestly, it makes little or no sense whatsoever to me to enforce such a rule. I’ve known a lot of pot smokers in my life and times, as well as boozers, and I would certainly rather the pot smokers have a firearm than an alcoholic. But what the hell do I know? Friends, have you ever considered how much it must genuinely suck to be Donald Trump (aka, Fearless Leader)? Seriously. You have the rabid media constantly criticizing your every move…even Fox News has kind of turned against him, well except for Hannity and one of the three idiots on that stupid morning show. Your wife (the First Lady) makes subtle little jabs at you when you aren’t looking. You feel it’s necessary to lash out at just about anything and everyone on Twitter and then ignore what your critics say was so f*@#ed up about what you just tweeted (how’s that for passive aggressive). To make your narcissistic psyche feel better you keep going back to the same locations to hold 1930’s-style rallies where only the people who are blindly following you are allowed inside to listen. West Virginia is one of those – please tell me again why they’re in the Big 12? Why doesn’t he come to Oklahoma? He could hold a rally in Shattuck or Arnett…there isn’t more than a handful of angry disgruntled liberal dems within 100 miles of there. So now, with the conviction of Manafort and the guilty plea of Cohen (two of the three Manhattan stooges) dropping yesterday, according to a lot of “smart” people, Trump should be worried. Is he? Nah. He’s taking the Alfred E. Neuman approach, “What me worry?” According to a New York Times columnist, Bret Stephens – who is a conservative by the way – writing on Twitter after the Cohen plea, Fearless Leader is “guilty of high crimes and misdemeanors” and should either resign his office or be impeached and removed from office. Do we at CCB think that will actually happen? Probably not. There are a lot of legal scholars who believe a sitting president can’t be indicted for anything while in office. At any rate, beginning impeachment proceedings against Fearless Leader would likely tear this country apart. It will certainly be entertaining to watch it all play out. That is all!  A very good Tuesday to everyone! Hope you’re all doing well. When it rains it pours here at The Compound. It’s been an incredibly busy couple of weeks around here and there’s no sign of things letting up any time soon. Let’s see, here’s the rundown: 1) First and foremost, there’s the re-replication of the Cabinet Saloon out on the north lawn. That’s been kind of on autopilot since the start of construction with members of the POJOC handling everything. By the looks of things, we’re at about 80% done. It’s certainly been a blessing not to have to deal with any of that, though there are the all-night parties as the boys celebrate each day’s progress well into the night. 2) The Hairdressing Hydrologist Gigi has decided (who knows why) that Cousin Fred needs to become a self-help guru. Really? The guy can barely help himself let alone anyone else. Of course, Cousin Fred as a self-help guru is helping himself…I think. I’ve always encouraged people here at The Compound to reach for the stars and be whatever they’ve always wanted to be or at least try to be. Stupid me. As our loyal readers may recall, I commented last week that no one had seen Gigi for quite some time and I was beginning to think she was stuffed under a couch in Das Boot. Turns out she’s been working night and day on a philosophy of life for Cousin Fred to “gurate.” The plan is to push videos out on YouTube. Bet you can’t wait for that action, eh? 3) There’s the upcoming trip to the Burning Man Festival in Nevada. That starts this coming Sunday. Friend Lamont will arrive here from western Arkansas tomorrow and we’ll likely leave Friday. The Hairdressing Hydrologist Gigi is making noise that she likely won’t be able to go with us since she’s working on Cousin Fred’s self-help philosophy of life. That is a shame since we’ve already bought her ticket. I asked the Wife if she wanted to go with us, but she informed me she would sooner have major surgery sans anesthesia than spend two weeks in a cramped RV with me, Cousin Fred, and Friend Lamont. Besides, she’s supposedly headed to Tahiti for the period. At least having Gigi here at The Compound solves my compound mutt care problem. If anyone is interested in a free ticket and ride to Burning Man, let me know. And, finally, 4) Cousin Fred is determined to turn The Compound into a medical marijuana farm. This despite nearly everyone who knows anything about the process telling him to wait at least two years until the dust settles and a firm market is established. Eh, not Cousin Fred, he’s pushing ahead full steam. The licensing process online begins this coming Saturday morning, so I’m not sure how he’ll pull it off being that we’ll be traveling to Black Rock. So anyway, that’s a rundown of the news as it stands right now. I’m certain even more implausibly ridiculous non-events will pop up, but it keeps things interesting around here. Cousin Fred has been receiving threatening emails from GoDaddy that his domain name and website, www.lovesick-leftovers.com, is about to expire and be pulled from the web. He told me that he plans to let it go – says there’s too much other stuff he’s focused on right now. Probably just as well, though it occurs to me that there are a lot of lonely people out there who could use a boost. Others seem to find their own path, if you will. Take for instance, the British woman, Amethyst Realm, a “spiritual guidance counselor” (now there’s an occupation) who claims to have had 20 sexual affairs with (hopefully you’re sitting down) ghosts over the past 11 years. No, seriously. But, she believes she has finally found her one true love while on a trip to Australia. Yeah, he’s a ghost too. I’m sure her parents are so proud, but then again, they named their daughter Amethyst Realm so they probably are proud! But wait, there’s more! She wants to have a baby with Mr. Wonderful. In an interview with a publication (wonder if they used a ghost writer to do the interview), she said that while the idea seems a bit crazy (no sh*t, you think?) she believes it can happen. She went on to say that her theory is that phantom pregnancies (aka, pseudocyesis, or false pregnancy) is nothing more than a ghost baby trapped inside a human body. Hmm. During a recent interview on ITV’s This Morning show in Britain, Amethyst revealed that she no longer has interest in a relationship with a human. One of the This Morning hosts commented during the interview that, “once you go ghost you never go back.” ‘Nuff said. That is all! The great noodle truck robbery...tin-foil hats at The Compound...Men! Groom thyself!...it's Friday!8/17/2018
 Happy Friday everybody! Yet another week done gone by and hopefully you have something to show for it. Otherwise, I could recommend drinking heavily…it’s always worked for me. Cousin Fred began wearing tin foil on his head following yesterday’s post about hackers seizing control of satellites and then turning receiver antennas on the ground into weapons of mass destruction cooking all of us from the inside out. In fact, I turned on the television this morning to discover it wasn’t working. We had lost the signal. Apparently, Cousin Fred has disassembled the DISH receiver outside during the night and hidden the various parts in/around The Compound. Now he’s in his underground bunker and refuses to come out. And you people wonder why I still drink? Such is life around here. Finally, for those people who have been sending me emails and texts informing me that today is National Men’s Grooming Day…thank you (NOT). I’m not trimming the beard this go around until I’m mistaken for a pudgy version of the Reverend Billy Gibbons. So there! Friends, how much do you love Ramen noodles? You know, that sodium laden staple of every Millennial out there? At 29 cents a serving (target.com), I may take up Ramen eating myself. The sodium level is astronomical, but if your blood pressure is under control, what the hell? It beats the canned cat food that I occasionally pick through for lunch (91 cents a serving from chewey.com). Just kidding…you can get the same cans for 80 cents a serving at Dollar General. Law enforcement down in Fayette County, Georgia (jaw-ja to the locals) are investigating a truck heist in which some $100,000 worth of Ramen noodles packets were heisted. The trailer filled with the noodles was parked at a Chevron truck stop along I-85N. The cops say the theft occurred between July 25th and August 1st. Hmm. So, a 53-foot trailer was parked at a truck stop for a week and nobody noticed it was gone? Me thinks there is something more to this than meets the eye. How much Ramen could a 53-foot trailer hold, you want to know? See that’s why you people keep coming back to CCB to get the facts, the hard facts, the stuff that the fake news media won’t give you (unless of course Fearless Leader is somehow involved). Cue the theme from Dragnet. According to our calculations, $100,000 worth of Ramen at .29 per packet comes to 344,828 packets of that crap. That is 64,831,424 calories and 301,724,500 milligrams of sodium. And, with that much Ramen you could eat nothing but Ramen three times a day for 315 years and never have to buy any groceries. Hijo de la chingada (it’s also National Curse in Spanish Day). I’m guessing that by year 25 you would begin growing salt crystals out of every orifice. Turn that image around in your head for a while. So, what do you think our alleged noodle heisters are up to? Perhaps feeding a compound of paranoid survivalists living somewhere in Georgia? Could be, could very well be. I can attest to how much it costs to feed a compound of paranoid, tin-foil wearing, lunatics (among whom I count myself) here in Oklahoma. If they try to sell them on the black market, they’ll have to undercut Target’s price of 29 cents. I say knock a dime off the price and move them out the door, but that’s just me. Fayette County PD have put their crack crime fighting team on the case, reportedly headed by a hard-boiled salty old detective known for noodling through tough cases…nyuk nyuk. That is all!  Happy Thursday everybody! We’re off, we’re running…who cares? You’ve made it this far, just Friday in the way before the weekend! Ah, the weekend when you can drink yourself stupid, stay up all night watching John Wayne movies, and then sometime Sunday evening realize that tomorrow it all starts again! Life sucks sometimes, does it not? But, hey that’s just me. I’ve been trying to get more info out of Cousin Fred about his design for Friend Lamont’s RV when we hit the Black Rock desert in Nevada to make our arrival at Burning Man. Cousin Fred isn’t talking which is unusual for him. There are three basic forms of communication in the world: telephone, telegraph, and tell-a-fred. So, that tells me that he hasn’t a clue. Somewhere there’s a Millennial asking someone to explain a telegraph. Plus, I’ve not seen the hairdressing hydrologist Gigi anywhere for days. When I ask Cousin Fred about it, he ducks his head and mutters something unintelligible which while that is pretty much usual for him, I’ll bet he has her stuffed beneath a couch in Das Boot. The fiend! But, I’ve bigger worries on my hands. The Wife is making noise about running off to Tahiti on her next fabulous vacation while the rest of us are at Burning Man. Who will watch The Compound mutts, I ask? She’s just jealous because she saw my “Burner” costume. I’m copying Cheech Marin’s get up as Alice Bowie in the “Up in Smoke” movie…pink leotard, white lace-up boots, pink tutu, Mickey Mouse ears, and a big mask (so none of the relatives know it’s me). It’s sure to be a big hit at Burning Man or get me hit or sued. Either way, it’s gonna be great…you’ll see! Friends, do you think we all have enough crap to worry about without mad scientists doing crazy satellite stuff to us? Of course you do! I mean, seriously, the stuff I’m dealing with on a daily basis around The Compound…I don’t have time for craze scientist nonsense! But, a bunch of brainiacs recently met in Vegas Baby! to discuss the vulnerability of satellites to be hacked and turned subsequently (or maybe consequently) turned into weapons. Yeah, no sh*t. The idea being that the satellites could be used to turn the huge antennas and arrays that receive their data into microwaves and cook all of us from the inside out! I know, WTF, right? I can’t possibly make this stuff up! So, what started out as a Black Hat conference of people talking about ways to secure electronic voting devices turned into a “what if you did this to that and created a weapons system that cook chickens in the supermarket”…or words to that effect. Ruben Santamarta, of the security firm IOActive, was quoted as saying, “The consequences of these vulnerabilities are shocking!” No sh*t Captain Obvious, shocking indeed. He went on to say, “Essentially, the theoretical cases I developed four years ago are no longer theoretical. We're basically turning Satcom [Brainiac for satellite communications] devices into radio frequency weapons. It's pretty much the same principle behind the microwave oven.” Judas priest. So much for what happens in Vegas Baby! stays in Vegas…baby. Okay, everyone repeat after me: “We’re all going to die!” Rinse, repeat. Maybe that’s why The Trump…oh, sorry, forgot…we started calling him Fearless Leader last week…maybe that’s why Fearless Leader started turning orange. He’s being cooked from the inside out in the White House! Again, altogether, “We’re all going to die!” In the meantime, a bunch of researchers at the University of Nebraska (it’s the corn) have come up with a new type of concrete that will ward off electromagnetic pulse attacks. Well, good for them. I’ll build me a new hidey hole with the stuff. They’re even working on a spray-on application to retrofit most structures. Spoiler alert: it’s as expensive as…I dunno…but it’s damned expensive! Remember when the biggest thing we had to worry about was the domino theory as it applied to commies taking over the world? Kind of makes me long for Ho Chi Minh…nah, strike that. I’ve never been that nostalgic. Again, somewhere a Millennial is asking… Kill a commie for mommy…in a purely figurative sense of course. That is all! |
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