Category: Advice

“Dear Dr. Kim”

Advice

“Dear Dr Kim,

“When my hands are deep in the turkey gizzard and relatives come brightly into my kitchen, without bringing me a drink, and offer to help:  what playlist can you suggest I ask the smart speaker to play to get them to fuck off?

“Suicidal Christmas Country Songs  worked well, actually a bit too well, last year, and Siri claimed not to recognise “Music to invade Poland to”. Your erudite musical knowledge is needed.

— Some English Farmer

Dear Farmer:

There are so many things wrong with this request that I barely know where to begin.

Let’s start with the “hands in the turkey gizzard” thing.  Where is your wife?  Why is she not performing her uxorial duties, whilst you are outside shooting at crows, neighbors etc.?  Small wonder that relatives come into the kitchen drinkless — they’re expecting to find her in there and not some male interloper.

Secondly:  WTF is this “smart speaker” gadget?  To me this bespeaks idleness or at least inattentiveness on your part, caused no doubt by your being in the kitchen instead of doing worthwhile things like browsing through your collection of gramophone records, wherein I have every expectation that you will find all sorts of music guaranteed to drive foul, unwanted people such as relatives screaming from the room.  Just off the top of my head, I would suggest Adge Cutler and the Wurzels’ debut album, but if said relatives are from your part of the world then this may be a dangerous choice as they would start singing along and even — perish the thought — dancing on your threadbare Axminster.  A better choice might be the musical efforts of Jimmy Shand and his Orchestra:  if that horrible ur-Scottish music fails to send them screaming not just from the room but from your farm altogether, you may as well give up and reach for the budget-priced Spanish plonk that your wife rejected for cooking.

And speaking of cooking, a reminder:  a man’s place to cook is at the barbecue or spit-roast, and not in the kitchen.

Finally, I have no idea what this “Siri” creature is.  It sounds like some ghoul, or an invention of Satan’s minions.  Best stay far away from it, lest you be corrupted and start doing things like leaving the parish and encountering strangers.

—

Wrong Approach

Advice, Marxists, Resistance

Here’s an interesting development:

A hunting stand with a sight line to President Trump’s Air Force One exit area was found at Palm Beach airport.

FBI Director Kash Patel said the bureau is investigating the situation.

“Prior to the President’s return to West Palm Beach, USSS discovered what appeared to be an elevated hunting stand within sight line of the Air Force One landing zone,” Patel said, according to Fox News. “No individuals were located at the scene. The FBI has since taken the investigatory lead, flying in resources to collect all evidence from the scene, and deploying our cell phone analytics capabilities.”

And here’s where I would have parted ways with Kash & The Gang.

What I would have done is upon discovery of the stand is completely the opposite.  Instead of making a big splash about it, I would have kept shtum, and booby-trapped it so that if some scrote tried to use it, there would be a ‘splosion — just a small one, so as to incapacitate as opposed to dissolving said scrote into hamburger.

Of course, this action may be against some law, which just goes to show how wet and stupid our laws have become.

Computing Thoughts

Advice, Housekeeping

While waiting at not-so-Best Buy to have my hard drive backed up / wiped prior to sending my ASUS Brick Model off to be repaired, I took a little walk around the store just to look at my options should the laptop be “unrepairable” and ASUS refusing to replace it (I know, it shouldn’t be a problem to replace a piece of equipment that was purchased in January of this year, but it’s a fool who doesn’t make at least some contingencies in case of corporate bastardy).

All the laptops looked the same, had too many unnecessary features and cost too much, so I didn’t spend too much time there.

Then my eyes fell upon this creature:

It’s one of those “everything in a screen” systems, and I must admit I was drawn to it — in no small measure because of the earlier suggestion from The Reader Formerly Known As CoffeeMan that I look at a desktop PC instead of a laptop. 

While my need for portability has admittedly been reduced because I no longer travel as much as yore, I still might need to take a computer out of the house when going somewhere on vacation, for example — or needing to carry the thing out if there’s a fire in the apartment block.  Carrying a PC tower and screen out is a non-starter for all sorts of reasons, but a single screen (plus keyboard) that in extremis  could be carried in a large suitcase?  That is a distinct possibility.

Here’s the White Monster’s spec sheet:

Hmmm.  Big screen for my Aging & Failing Eyes, a properly-sized keyboard for my Fat & Fumbling Fingers, manageable size (see dimensions) and if I may be greedy for once, more computing power than I would ever need for the remainder of my existence on Planet Earth.

There’s the small matter of the dollars required, but I’d just raffle off a gun or two from my ever-dwindling stock of Second Amendment appliances.

If anyone’s had actual experience with one of these beasts, let me know in Comments, because right now it’s looking awfully attractive.

“Dear Dr. Kim”

Advice

“Dear Dr. Kim:

“I’m a junior executive (25), and was recently introduced to a rather pretty woman of 22 at a party.  We split off from the group, as one does, and started chatting.  About two minutes into the conversation, she started talking about her huge collection of something called ‘Labubus’.  (I had no idea what this is, and later discovered that it’s a small doll with teeth.)  Anyway, this woman’s entire conversation revolved around her collection — how much they cost, how collectible they are, the various types, and how adorable they are.

“I’m all for people having hobbies, but something seems a little off about this obsession, and I’m debating whether to follow up with this woman.

“Advice?”

— Wary Bloke In The City

Dear Wary (and a good name that is, too):

We have seen nonsense like this before, and it seems like there’s one for every generation:  Beanie Babies, Cabbage Patch dolls, and so on, which sell at outrageous prices and are subject to (calculated) shortages to drive up the value thereof.  So great was the excitement surrounding all these trinkets that people got into squabbles and fistfights over them at stores.

What has characterized all this obsessive nonsense is that the people most taken in by the craze are the same type:  they’re children, no matter what their age, and if older — say, over the age of ten — they’re likely to be stupid as well.

I’ve always told young men that if they enter the apartment / bedroom of their intended conquest and discover that the bed is covered with two dozen teddy bears, their only course of action is to run — run quickly and far away — to put as much distance as possible between you and this ghastliness.

These Labubu things very definitely fall into the teddy-bear / Cabbage Patch / Beanie Babies category.

So my advice is to blank Miss Labubu-Collector, and find someone less childish and more intelligent.  Your wariness, in this case, is definitely warranted.

—

Inside Information

Advice, Health

Here’s one for my long-suffering Lady Readers:  it turns out that engaging in a simple fitness exercise can provide you with a Big Moment.

The tingly, burning sensation traveled from the bottom of my feet up the back of my taut calves, through my thighs, into my pelvis, up my spine, on towards the crown of my head. Then as I raised myself back up onto my toes, it traveled back down my body again. My calves burned but so did other parts of my body – parts that shouldn’t be at 9.15am on a Tuesday, as I stood in my gym kit trying to increase my core strength as I trained for a half marathon. It was pain, but it was also, unmistakably, pleasure.

It was – and I apologize if you’re eating your breakfast as you read this – an orgasm.

I mean, think about it:  you can get a Big O without all that hassle of involving a partner, or touching yourself inappropriately under the desk, or messing up the bed (if you’re doing it properly, that is).

And you can even get it while doing something healthy:  a two-fer, to use retail-speak.

No need to thank me, ladies;  it’s all part of the service.

And for the rest of you:  it seems like this is a girls-only phenomenon, sorry.  You’ll just have to do what you normally do to get yours.

Not that there’s anything wrong with that, of course.