The electricians came today and fixed the idiotic wiring performed by Doltus McJoltus many years ago. Doltus said he couldn’t do anything. These guys fixed it in 90 minutes. I was expecting one guy who had that certain que-sera-sera attitude common to the Fixer Tribe. They knock on the door, they’ve no idea what waits. Something’s wrong. The clock starts. Dum-de-dum-de-dum. Well, here’s your problem right here, it’s the framzet. Whoever you had in before put a grockifier on the framzet. I can filter that if you want or just take it out and use a prondifier.

Do they use prondifiers in new construction?

Oh yeah.

Okay, go with that. If you’ll excuse me, though, I’m doing a podcast with Pat Sajak.

They nod. Suuuure you are. Don’t know what that’s a metaphor for and I’m not sure I want to know.

But these guys were young, and had a certain intellectual eagerness I appreciated. One of them said “If you don’t mind me asking, why are you interviewing Pat Sajak?” It’s hard to step back and explain the entirely of your life and how it all ended up like this. There is no Why, there’s just a series of opportunities where you said Why Not.

I wrote a long, long piece about the crazy man who mails me about his persecution. I think I’ll leave that for tomorrow.


This week's Bleat graphic doesn't need much explanation. It's for tires, of course. But if you look closely at the drivers, you'll note a resemblance to the Shapeshifters of Star Trek: Deep Space Nine.



It's like . . . burn-victim Oz Scarecrow men.

The glories of bygone commercial architecture are detailed on Thursdays here at; it was motels for a while, and now it’s 50s and 60s restaurants. The days before the chains. How did one stand out? Signage. But that wasn’t enough. The signs had to blink. Sometimes . . . they had to move.

Those satellite things you see in old pictures? They moved.



Wait a minute, wait a minute. You ain’t seen nothing yet.



After you’ve seen the amazing Rovino sign, skip ahead to 5:25.

There’s something unnerving about these. I don't advise thinking about them when you're slightly queasy or feeling a little feverish.





Excerpts from the Miscellaneous Screen Grabs file. I snapped this in Amsterdam, because it was peculiar:





Hope he's feeling better now. In case you're curious: turn around and take a look. It's a great place to explore, but you can't sample the cheese on Google Street view. Yet. Give them a few years.





By the way, the "" sign advertises a furniture site that appears to be defunct.

It's a strange world. Start typing Kiosk Monty and the drop-down menu suggests Grieving right away.








Poor girl, yoked with history's greatest monster just because he had a crush on her.



From a 1960s cigarette ad:





Can't find anything about her; I don't know if she wrote for the papers. I will endeavor to find out. There's a piece about a local theater company that says she contributed to an oral history in the 70s. Hard to imagine that's the extent of a writer's legacy, but for most people who wrote before, oh, 1996, that's how it goes.



Bravo! This is how you send someone a fake Facebook notice in the hopes of selling them drugs or seizing control of their computer to send more fake email in the hopes of selling more drugs or seizing control of more computers.





Stealthy as a box of cymbals tossed down the stairs. Okay, that's it for today. Restaurants below, and also a planet-killing entry at the Tumblr. Why is it planet-killing? Tomorrow. Along with the tale of the man who is mad and stalked the roads of Mississippi, emailing 3-hour diatribes to the Ambassador from Indonesia.





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