Broken (Breaking) News

Toss the blood pressure meds and inhale The latest from Pontchartrain Press to allay your worries in a hyper-saturated news era...it may cause cancer.  Enjoy.

  I wish that I were computer savvy enough to hack into someone's social media account, not for nefarious reasons, I'd just do small things BUT I'd do it to unlikely targets-- such as, say, Betty White--Betty's Status Update: "My loins are moist." Feeling: Blessed

   I read that a Taiwanese hacker threatened to delete (Facebook founder) Mark Zuckerberg's account recently but then he cancelled his threat at the last minute.  This proves my long held understanding that no one,  NO ONE can easily delete a Facebook account.

FB Admin:

"Hey Mark, your friends are missing you, even though we have no qualitative info to back up this assertion.  We would, however, love for you to reactivate your account so that you might  resume shallow interactions (very similar to small talk with a stripper, until you stop tipping) Just click  here. CLICK IT or we will find you and destroy you and your family."

"Hey, Mark, it's been a week since we've seen you and 3.8 million of your friends just cooked something that literally looks like actual dogshit with  kale garnish and steamed broccoli...AND they posted a fucking  photo of it-- reactivate now stop missing the fun, Mark."

   Facebook even has a prompt to temporarily deactivate (once again) not offering an appropriate click-option:"This is only temporary, I'll be back."  Should read: I'll be back when I'm ready to stalk my ex online, thanks.

   It saddens me that not even ONE  international hacker gives a shit about Tom over at Myspace.  Tom's lucky anyway because he had a revolutionary vision for Facebook to buy Myspace and become home to several dozen Swedish Glam Metal bands.   Plus, web platforms-- and traditional news media-- have come under such immense scrutiny for a term which was barely uttered two years ago...Fake News.  Sigh.

Oxford defines "Fake News" as a tactic useful in describing virtually anything that is not right or does not mesh with one's own principles or acceptable views.  For me, this precisely describes the entire Olive Garden menu.

   Fake news accusations always seem to be associated with very serious topics or events steeped in partial truths:

    (Knoxville, TN.) Santa Claus actor whispers comforting words into dying child's ear.  Unbeknownst to the Santa actor, the child was contagious and they both are now in heaven.

    Having spent a significant amount of time in mainstream media, I wondered if it would be possible to insert fake news around any story-- perhaps stories about ordinary people and events.  Because I do not wish to anger Sean Hannity, we'll use only feel-good or A-political copy facts.

..

(Wilmington, NC.)  In rare move, Chick-fil-A opens on Sunday for folks in the  aftermath of hurricane...Except for "the queers."

   Okay, admittedly, that didn't turn out well because I'm operating without spellcheck and am uncertain as to whether or not I spelled Chick-fil-A correctly, so this might qualify as overt fake news.  Let's move on...

(Spokane, WA.)  Teen fires arrow at cougar, saving life of her younger brother.

Twelve year-old Amaya Fisher told Fox News (and I wish that I were making this up)  that she and her brother had  been out practicing elk calls on the evening of Septem…

Wait, WHAT the fuck???  I honestly can't do anything with this one.  Next story…

   I've always felt that newspaper copy editors miss the fun boat with word placement and structure.  You'd be amazed by the power of something as simple as a hyphen:

(Madison, WI.)  Boy rescued from drowning after firefighter spots his finger poking out of  a man-

(See, "manhole", B-7)

   And, one for the pet lovers...

(Lanai, Hawaii) Longing for the cat that you left at home on vacation?  Lanai`s open-air sanctuary is a happy haven for spayed and neutered cats. Situated on a large playground in paradise, there are over 600 kitties, all  available to take home for adoption!  (More details in a moment)  Now, this…

(Clay County, TN)  Tennessee county subject of a DEA investigation over allegations that 270 pain pills were dispensed to each of the county's residents.  Celina, TN. is a small Cumberland Plateau town with three churches, a few stores, a school, numerous lost Bonnaroo festival attendees and a robust chapter of the KKK.

   In reality, the evolution of hysteria in the media has been a long time coming in who best vies for your attention and it took a dramatic turn when photos overshadowed the printed word.  Who else wants to see a naked selfie with Abe Lincoln? 

   Forget the paper rolled up in the driveway, now the creepy call is coming from within the house.  We're deluged with reports of terrible events, neatly crammed in a 28 second glossy package that I like to call "Balls of Hysteria" before tossing it back to wacky Stu with a quick look at that weekend forecast. 

Balls of Hysteria, by the way, would make an excellent title for an action/adventure pornographic video.

(Dade County, FL)   Man punches out of control sex robot.

(Palm Beach, FL) Woman arrested for trying to sell daughter at Walmart.

  The savings NEVER end at the Walmart, and you can always count on Florida to make us feel better about ourselves.  I almost forgot…

Update:  DUBUQUE, IOWA (FEB. 22)--  Temps expected to dip into minus territory ahead of massive blizzard.  In other news: Cat adopted from Hawaiian paradise now calls Dubuque home.  Wonders:  "What the fuck did I do wrong???"

copyright, Pontchartrain Press, 2018.  all rights reserved.

Summer (Insert feel-good dumb subtitle here)

Because I'm an avid people person, I greatly love visiting with people. None of that is true.   I strongly feel that leaving the house should involve fun things such as:

my laptop
earbuds
any form of nudity
a cocktail or two
an empty table
two drunks fighting over something stupid and...

Netflix

Elsewhere in the summer downtime-- without provocation or express written consent, I've, somehow, inherited a lost or abandoned kitty. Given her abandoned/lost plight, I did the humane thing...I immediately had her euthanized.

In reality, she's now joined me on a blessed life path which involves a lot of crying.

   I'm really not anti social, I simply don't find any level of fun in spending discretionary time sitting at a table watching a handful of my friends texting, between snapping pics of their food while remotely "checking in", binge watching Better Call Saul or searching Wikipedia to investigate things which no one would normally research-- I.e Fox & Friends fan page or "Inventors Killed By Their Own Inventions." Ironic.

   As an added bonus, a couple of my friends, who are also neighbors also happen to be senior citizens-- this always affords a bizarre high speed car chase experience in that I gain valuable insights into precisely everything that is wrong with my life and how it's my fault. Added bonus, I receive a lot of banana bread while becoming an expert at Wheel of Fortune AND I'm now astutely aware of everything that's humanly possible to know about the weather forecast, dewpoint, tropical disturbances, humidity and Realfeel© temp for any given minute of each and every stupid minute of my life.

   I spent some time with my friends at the younger end of the spectrum where I learned more than required about Premier League soccer yet very little about what type of employer allows for all 27 year-olds to get drunk and not be at work at virtually any time of every single day during soccer season-- According to my senior friends, it's because soccer fans are communists-- I hold no opinion. Nonetheless, I'm proud that the younger generation of my friends leave a legacy of: 

-- inventing sex dolls
-- solving complex climate problems
-- doing funny things such as drinking Fireball
-- an inordinate level of nut allergies
-- inventing robotic machines, formerly sex dolls (which I believe will eventually bring about our brutal extinction)

...and they can recite every wacky moment of Good Mythical Morning with Rhett & Link."

Speaking of "Will It Waffle?" out of curiosity, I challenged myself to, nutritiously, feed myself on $13 per week for a month. Unlike Gwyneth Paltrow, I lasted more than three days...with funds STILL left over for sweet tarts. And, for some reason, I watched Lethal Weapon 4.

To answer the question from my friend, Amanda Port: "...what was the highlight of this summer?"
Absolutely nothing. But, I suppose I learned how to answer that question if nothing else.
I enjoyed moments of accidental fun since May by noticing simple stuff... such as watching my cat lick her ass and then stare at me indignantly for a minute and a half before going back to licking her ass again...which I feel strongly would make for an excellent YouTube Live stream.

copyright Flat Earth Media, 2018. all rights reserved.

Fall Is In The Air...for $12.99

I have a close friend who is well accomplished in many areas, all of which interest me in no way whatsoever. He does, however, offer sage advice periodically and recently offered this scad of positivity:

"...Jim, make time to enjoy the change of seasons."

I agree, except where transition between spring and summer occurs in New Orleans. 

   

   For those who are unfamiliar, spring lasts exactly 17 days in New Orleans, regardless of the calendar. One day it's sunny and 74 and on day 18 the city takes on attributes not unlike my vision of Hell. Surface temperature as that of the bright side of Venus, with 2,000% humidity, hovering idiots trying to bum a cigarette and a nonstop loop of cable news.

Be that as it may, I am keeping eyes wide open for the summer to fall transition and I think that I speak for everyone when I express great excitement that CrabFest is BACK at Red Lobster, placing a thrifty yet tasty punctuation mark on summers end each year.

Obviously, with a slogan such as:

"...an endless array of crab dishes from which to choose..."

We all now fully realize that there's, literally, a dozen ways to utterly fuck up a crab entrée.

I'm in no way a food snob by the way; I actually like every single restaurant on the planet, except for Red Lobster.

 

   God rest her soul, but, my mom really enjoyed the Red Lobster and when I'd visit, occasionally she'd drag me to the home of the 39 minute wait to be seated where we rediscover how badly I've angered God in some way.
Without hesitation, I'd eagerly exclaim:

"...great, I'll get my coat; I already can't decide what to order. I wonder what's fresh off the boat at the bustling seaport of Nashville, Tennessee? Let's hurry."

Mom appreciated my sarcastic humor-- I think it primarily had something to do with her knowledge that it didn't come from her-- since I was adopted at birth. I assume that she was aware that I was adopted since she's the one who told me early on.
As I recall I enjoyed the cheese biscuits and the exit door at Red Lobster.

   Nonetheless, I plan to take my friend's advice and have already begun basking in the air of an autumn to come on a strange new planet...from the west coast, where this morning I was the only person bundled in a coat because it was 56 degrees. So much for blending in I suppose.

copyright Flat Earth Media, 2018. all rights reserved.

Snap, Crackle, POP-Up

And now, fun with pop-up ads and algorithms...

I sometimes wonder how people survived back in the day and age without simple things like running water, pornhub, electricity, clinically insane political spectacles, The Real Housewives and...net algorithms. 

While I'm a big fan of running water, online algorithms theoretically serve as a friendly netting to keep undesirables out of your life, except for an ex showing up at your door at 3am...or Mark Zuckerberg.

   While simple times of long ago might not have been cushy, I believe Ye Olde School human algorithms worked pretty well, no internet needed:

Bill: (drunkenly slurring) "Hey, Fred, you s.o.b., we're gonna settle this shit right n..."

Fred: "Get the fuck away from me Bill or I will kill you and make your family watch."

Fred's home grown algorithm in action; a fun separation of bad from good. 

   In our grandparents' day human algorithm even worked for job interviews.

Ex:

Today's interview:
"...A co-worker asks you to clock in for them because their support koala bear took a shit in the Prius and they're running late. You..."
a) steep a cup of chai
b) clock the co-worker in
c) go to a quiet, gluten-free place
d) identify as a conscientious objector to powdered creamer in the break room...and the international monetary fund.

Interview from yesteryear:
Employer: "Are you drunk right now?"

Prospective employee: Nope.

Employer: "You're hired."

Which leads me to how web algorithms recently failed me via an unwanted pop-up ad as I Googled:
"Do hyenas laugh, even when they're being killed?"

Pop-up advertisement:
"Are YOU 6-feet Tall? Women want more tall, handsome men on our site. Join DateTallMen.com today to reach women near you!"

User: JIM has logged on--
I am not, in fact, 6-feet tall but I capitalized my name for stature. I never knew that 6-feet tall people were in such demand but now it makes perfect sense as to why many professional athletes are involved in troubling sexual scandals. Well, except for horse jockeys.

According to your website, altitude is, apparently, sexy! I’m 5’ 11’' and I do what most people who have failed at the 6-foot mark do-- spend a lot of time crying. I DO wear a size 11.5 shoe and, well, you know what they say about that...they say “Man, you have pretty stupid looking feet.”

Would you place me on your email list so that I might be reminded of my inadequacies or when you construct a companion website titled “Date 5’ 11’’men.com? At that point I will promptly place my profile on the site for the ladies who enjoy men of average height with big clown feet. 

copyright Flat Earth Media, 2018. all rights reserved.

OktoberFestivus

I read a thoughtful article today headlined:

"Female Oktoberfest
Tourists Slammed For

Porno Dresses."

WHAT? Yep. 

   
   A band of German traditionalists seem to have misplaced indignation over the fact that Mercedes automobiles are being assembled in Alabama and have aimed their precision engineering discontent toward the low-cut design of the dirndl and the women who wear them. A dirndl is the traditional dress worn during Oktoberfest...and, on occasion, by confused gentlemen lounging around the house.

   It never occurred to me that the Germans would dangle a moral barometer into the arena of "porno" labels, considering that their brand of porn involves being tied up while beaten senseless with a roll of sheet metal in a film titled:

"Mein linker Hoden schmerzt für entsetzliche Bestrafung"
*loosely translated: "My left testicle aches for horrifying punishment."

Have you ever SEEN German porn?? I have... thanks to a couple of friends who engage in questionable web activity and do not seem to be on the same page as that of the teachings of Jesus Christ.

An adventurous segment of Germany's sex subculture die each year, sadly knocking Florida off this prestigious list.

   Franz Thalhammer, 70, former chairman of a Munich festival group, called out Australian and Italian tourists specifically for sexualizing the festival dress, adding:
"It's as if I'd walk around half-naked and say HEY, I'm Australian!!!”

First of all, Franz, Australians would be flattered by that. You have to think outside the thunderbox to offend the Aussies, perhaps by screaming in agony while wearing a scuba suit with a giant rubber stingray suctioned to your back. (Shout out to Steve Irwin!! Too soon?)
   A man in Hamburg was recently discovered after chasing the perfect solo orgasm went badly. He covered himself with sliced cheese, pantyhose wrapped around his upper body, wearing a raincoat and a diving suit. He then sat down with a plastic bag over his head in front of a heater that was switched on.
I have many, many questions.

   Back to the Dirndl... Oktoberfest purist, Gerhard Muller, simply claims that the low cut dresses are tarnishing German history. No offense Gerhard, but I believe there are a couple of historic items in the German public relations filing cabinet worse than a dress with a push-up bra.

Since I'm not interested in being involved in a porno experience which involves a funeral plan, I say-- ladies raise a stein and sport the dirndl with pride. 

copyright Pontchartrain Press, 2018. all rights reserved.

#ridiculousness

I have four people on my Facebook friends list who are deceased...three more and I get an Applebee's gift certificate.
   Before anyone judges me for being insensitive, it profoundly saddens me, because I'd rather have a TGI Friday's gift card.
   I can't really bring myself to delete deceased friends from social media because:
a) I don't maintain our pages
b) it just seems unnecessary to delete these people since they've already been ultimately deleted-- I'm a sensitive guy.
    If you're looking for a fun way to do something more dangerous than meth, sign on to your social media accounts and then join me in converting to the Amish way of life in shunning the modern world...and being weird..sort of like the Unibomber...without actually sending bombs via the postal service.
   Now that I, once again, have the attention of the National Security Agency, let's take a peek at actual social media brilliance...

As silly as they might be, witnessing social media meltdowns still amuses me. You know the ones I'm talking about...

Constance checked in at Taco Libre 8:30pm

Scott checked in at Wild Willie's Wangs n Thangs 8:40pm

Constance wrote: I'm not saying names but for some of u who don't like wat I'm gonna say, UNFRIEND me now.  OMG I'm sooo tired of subjecting myself to those who are evil..."specially one at work. ugh.

Scott wrote: I love ppl who play victims when they screw everything that moves. #dirtyslutbucket

Constance wrote: Some ppl I know stay out getting drunk all nite. #whiskeydick

Scott wrote: Some ppl work late because they try to make enough money so others can throw $90 away on a fucking pasta canister at #Anthropologie.com

Constance wrote: OMFG..At least I’m not latently homosexual.  #latentlyhomosexual
LOL

Scott wrote: SOME girls appreciate sensitive guys who write poems for girls.
The earth doesn’t revolve around some ppl...even though, if they keep eating the way they do, they'll be as big as a planet soon enough.

Constance wrote: Some guys can't keep it up. #Viagra

Scott wrote: Some girls need to take better personal care. #Vagisilisrightforyou

Constance wrote: I'm sooo sorry for ppl with small packages.
#Idon'tHaveAclever hashtagrightnowbut FuckyouScott

Scott wrote: Oh yeah? Well you’re LOUSY in bed Constance!!!

Constance wrote: No I’m not…and Carlos, in accounting on the third floor, will tell you otherwise.
#Carlos

Scott wrote: Oh YEAH????  At least I’m not a little BITCH!!

Constance wrote: Yes you are.
#bitch

Scott wrote: Well, your best friend, Emily, from customer service, doesn't think so. ha!

Constance wrote: good luck with HPV
#luggage

Constance checked in  Wild Willie's Wangs n Thangs 9:47pm

Scott checked in at Taco Libre 9:44pm

Scott wrote: u here?

Constance wrote:
no...I came to wild willies to talk.
#imissyou

Author note: We're one article away from 500. And, one article away from me being off until September. Thank you all for reading from whichever platform you catch this crap. Love you.
Copyright Flat Earth Media, 2018. All Rights Reserved.

"As Seen On TV"

Well, here we are, Easter passed and Jesus STILL didn't come back...ugh... carpenters.
   In fairness, and to strengthen my parent's concern for my blasphemy, you truly don't know when independent contractors will EVER return.
   In other letdowns, the Chinese space station crashed and didn't hit anything funny, like Effingham, Illinois, my neighbor or one of the Kardashians-- sadly depriving the world of a hilarious segment on "TMZ" or "YouTube."
   When I'm not avoiding people, I do what every normal person does...I read the phone book to relax.
   TV is a good diversion lately because I believe everything that I see on television, except for The Weather Channel, NBC, CBS, ABC, CNN, MSNBC, FOX News, Sean Hannity, Al Roker, Showtime, A&E, QVC, Wicked Tuna, pay per view motel porn and, especially, Paula Dean.
    After watching 70-days of news coverage for an upcoming project I also do not believe that Russia fixed our election...I feel strongly that the mystery of presidential election tampering was cast by some guy named Ted-- just a random guy who transferred dark feelings because of boredom, not politicism. So, he decided to fuck with things via his iPad-- over an order of loaded potato skins at the end of a TGI Fridays bar top in Muncie, Indiana-- Sometimes it's just that simple.  Don't believe it? Sadly, it's amazing what triggers people...just watch the news.
   On a brighter note, upon conclusion of my two and a half month TV binge-fest, I learned that (thankfully) Cialis is not right for me and I also feel reasonably certain that a reverse mortgage would not fit into my financial portfolio as that of a senior citizen who's economically forced to eat cat food. Now that I think about it, a reverse mortgage might be effective so long as William DeVane is somewhere nearby so that I might shake him down for his gold and silver after ultimately losing my house and forced to become a greeter at The Wal-Mart.
   In summation, fuck Tom Selleck and his predatory lending commercials.  While we're at it, fuck The General... AND Shaq too.
    I'm a big fan of Fox News... primarily because it irritates everyone else.  I'm kidding...I only watch Fox News channel because I'm a HUGE FAN of My Pillow.Com, 1-800 Empire and some catheter company, then I switch to the 400-thousand hour tru tv Impractical Jokers marathon.
    To be serious, I only watch Netflix, Hulu, HBO Go, C-SPAN and the woman's bedroom window across the street.
    Speaking of a normal segment in my life, Alexa AND Siri sound hot but totally like condescending assholes (but) in their defense, I've been single for a while.

"Alexa how do I get to your house? I'll bring Siri and some vodka."
   I really didn't learn much during my television binge/research and I continue to make questionable life decisions while holding little opinion about politics, pop culture or the folks who cover the topic...
    I DO plan to enjoy baseball season and other things such as watching paint dry and it's a stress free life, which makes me smile.
    By the way, the UPS guy just delivered the "My Pillow."  "As seen on TV." zzzzzzzz!

copyright Flat Earth Media, 2018. All Rights Reserved.

FaceBerg

I've been reading all the fuss whirling around FaceBerg but the most interesting byproduct is that people are posting their imminent departure intentions from Facebook, ON FACEBOOK. This reinforces a long held feeling for something I've dreamed about for a long time-- that the out of control Chinese space station will crash onto my body-- followed by an extinction level event. *poke... smiley face.*
   I think that, in his congressional testimony, Zuckerberg should answer the distinguished panel in emojis.
   On a personal note, now is as good a time as any for Facebook to introduce the "eat a dick" button.      
   Before anyone rushes to crucify Facebook for facilitating info miners, I direct you to a larger problem...demon seed has been strewn for decades, spawning the birth of a generation of gullible idiots who share anything online-- including half naked pics of my 60 year old neighbor that still haunts my dreams, stupid live streaming vacation video while smart people are burglarizing your house and a society who
 "unfriends" people via a fucking button?  By the way...I still refuse to accept "unfriend" as an actual word.
   Call me old fashioned, but I get unfriended just fine on my own...in person.
   It's a well known fact that anything one types, posts or searches for on the web is available to anyone who holds capable skills to capture or hack it. (pronounced: your nine year old child) In my case, the NSA likely tracks me for numerous reasons-- such as Googling:
 "Hot,Taliban Girl on Girl Action."

Don't judge me.
   I'm a relatively satisfied Facebook user, as it often facilitates many helpful benefits, personally:
 I receive passive aggressive comments from people that I hate anyway, I have friends who post photos of their kids and the occasional selfie someone snaps along with their dumb entree at some stupid, overpriced restaurant. I also receive numerous horrible friend suggestions and an intrusive, but entertaining, daily topic generator asking me to complete the sentence:
From: Facebook. "Hey Jim! Complete the sentence..."
 "In the shower, I like to sing..."

From Jim:
"Rape Me."

   Zuckerburg, who I affectionately refer to as the walking PB&J sandwich, with the crust trimmed, lost several billion dollars in stock value over this whole thing but I, on the other hand, made use just minutes ago, via his brilliant platform...
   I logged off.  Right after I played with a Facebook quiz that matches my personality with famous war criminals or my porn star name...i can't remember.
Regards,
Idi Adolf Von Monster Rod

copyright Flat Earth Media, 2018. All Rights Reserved.

Rain, Sleet or something else stupid. It's Mail Time

We temporarily disabled the email icon from our main blog before shooting it into outer space where I can now report that it destroyed a North Korean satellite.  USA!
    In the meantime we glanced through a pile of stupid mail for recreational purposes-- Sort of like a sexual encounter with an ex, only without awkward feelings of regret the following day; enjoy...
     I'm, somehow, NEVER amazed by emails or blog site content that random readers feel strongly about sharing with us while we're doing important things, such as lying very still...and now, we share them with you...sort of like herpes.

From Susan, Louisville KY
    Hey, I learned Mandarin Chinese over the winter. Yaaaay for me Jim Patrick!
From: Jim Patrick
    Congrats!  I only know one Chinese phrase...
"I'll take the number 15 dinner."  Godzirrra!  Wait, that's Japanese.
Pretty impressive though, huh?
    Elsewhere, apparently, since Donald Trump was elected, a large segment of the American populace plan on moving to Canada.  Not me-- I'm much too lazy to take such a drastic stand about anything, especially where packing tape is involved.  Plus I'm scared of moose and Celine Dion.
    At any rate, I'll just change my Facebook "currently lives in" status to Ottawa. Problem solved.

From Jason, Decatur, IL
celebrating my one year anniversary with the bestest girlfriend ever at Coldstone Creamery.
From Jim Patrick
I'm happy for you both and I just threw up a little bit in my mouth-- That's very hipster of you.  I'm actually trying to develop a cool "hipster" bar concept, sort of a cool hang without having to admit that it's a cool hang.  Our signature drink will be called "My bad, you're dead."

The drink is a mixture of Rolling Rock and Tide Pods.

   By the way, please lose my email address.

    From Shauna, Ocracoke, NC
Dear Jim,
Do you feel the Bern???
    From Jim Patrick
Not since the amoxicillin kicked in.

    From Alex, Nashville, TN
Just took my kids to Chuck E. Cheese.  You should hang out there one afternoon.  You'd get tons of writing material.
    From Jim Patrick
Yes, I'd Love to look like a pedophile.  Actually, the founder of Chuck E. Cheese is brilliant for creating an environment where one might take their kids AND get a DUI on the way home.
   That's about it for the mail sack for now...
By the way, the name of my new "hipster" bar--  The Downtrodden Scampi."

copyright Flat Earth Media, 2018 All Rights Reserved

Satisfaction (somewhat) Guaranteed

The voices in my head are reminiscent of those presented in the spectacular viral video short: "Charlie the Unicorn."  For me, this winding stroll through life is boring at worst...delightfully weird at best and somewhere in the middle makes me want to jump into the rotor of a helicopter.  Where to begin?  Let's start with...
   I finally have all of my social media access codes after nine years so now I can take full responsibility for any social media activity which, it seems, many people take more to heart than losing a loved one.  At any rate, should I inadvertently offend anyone on social media, I will do the adult thing and passive aggressively blame Amanda Port, my colleague and human trainwreck/horrible guy magnet.
    The first experience upon my solo dip into the tepid social media pool was:
"James Patrick, 10,000 people have liked your posts. We hope you are enjoying Facebook."
   I only know 30 people...either the numbers are wrong or I have a stalker.

Elsewhere...
"James Patrick, you have memories with Kristi." (not her real name...her real name is Kristin. She lives at 436 South Cort ...)  *edit for privacy/ legal content*
 
   Thank you, Facebook, for digging up memories and slinging them toward my face this morning as that of an orangutan who hurls it's own shit at unsuspecting zoo visitors.  The woman who destroyed my human spirit and burned my house to the ground (with pets in it) seems to be doing splendid in rehab according to face fucking book...AND, it appears that we share 2 mutual friends online...splendid.
   My favorite question in the electronic shackled universe is:
"Hey, is it supposed to rain today?"
 This question typically spews from an individual holding $500-thousand dollars worth of communication devices, including an actual space satellite, a load of bandwidth which rival Chinese spies, a multi-lateral missile launch control and a Papa John's and "step counter" app.
   Speaking of our collective starving for information overload:
   Before the internet, each year, I was forced, without express written or verbal consent, to absorb numerous national employee satisfaction surveys (qualitative and quantitative) Then I was forced to conduct said surveys on my own staff of on-air talents (pronounced: highly paid crazy people) who never leave home without a fucking lawyer or agent.
    Because I'm a team player, I approached this directive with sincerity...feeling confident that I've angered God in some way.
   For employers on the never-ending quest to understand their employees, I'll save you some valuable time via spoiler alert on your "Indiana Jones and The Quest To Verify That Harrison Ford Has Finally Become Clinically Insane."
    The absolute number one virtue that employees crave isn't money...it's
Honesty and
A feeling of inclusion

Don't bother googling it...it's a fact.

   I am blessed and privileged to have worked with some of the most talented broadcasters and writers one could hope for. With that, as Mike, the editor, says, I've caused enough mischief on the blog platforms today.  But, in reality, I only point out the elephant in the room...so, keep up the good work out there.  You might just get a pay raise.

Copyright Flat Earth Media, 2018. All Rights Reserved.

The (next to) Last Samurai

I recently conducted research for an article that somehow required a quick visit to Craig's list. (for pending legal purposes surrounding a previous article I shall, painfully, avoid a Craig's list punch line here.)
   1989 Blue SUZUKI SAMURAI GREAT SHAPE!! $1200 obo. email or call 618-xxx-xxxx. Gerald. email anytime or call 5pm-10pm.

From: James Patrick
Greetings Gerald, I'm inquiring about the Samurai.
   I MUST have this truck for reasons which stretch far beyond Asian automobile manufacturers sending a strong message to Detroit by leading the way toward a sensible, fuel efficient, yet sporty, SUV which also didn't explode upon impact.
   My nostalgic memory of this vehicle stems from a whirlwind trip to America's paradise circa 1989...Hawaii.
   My buddy, Scott, rented one.  One evening during the visit he picked up a very attractive girl at our hotel bar and disappeared for a romantic visit to the North shore where he parked along the Waimea Cliffs on Oahu. Unaccustomed to driving a stick shift, he left it in neural and it rolled to the ledge-- plunging 150 feet onto giant boulders where it exploded in the Pacific ocean. While I wish that I were making this up, I'm not...but, I want your samurai!

From: Gerald
HOLY SHIT! THAT'S crazy! Is this seriously for real???
From: James Patrick
YES, seriously Gerald... Scott was actually with a GIRL...We all thought he was ambiguously gay. While WE were all fine with the possibility that he might not like girls, many people in society weren't as open minded as I or a handful of our coworkers. 1989 was a weird time.
   Anyway, we met up with this girl and her friend at the Outrigger hotel bar immediately after I brought about indescribable shame upon my family name by drinking a bunch of booze and singing a Black Crows song at karaoke night.
  Now that I think about it, I never saw his lady friend again after the Samurai incident...now I'm reeeeally concerned.  I've probably shared too much.
   Scott had to pay an exorbitant amount for the collision damage insurance via his Chase Visa card and the Japanese rental agents seemed quite unhappy with him, using what I believe to be curse words in their native language. We then flew back to the states (Hawaiians LOVE it when you say that btw.)
    Long story short, I'll give you $950 for the Samurai if it's still available.

copyright Flat Earth Media, 2018. All Rights Reserved.

Take Out The Trash Day

It's time for the annual exhibition in spectacular laziness where we empty the disjointed writer storyboard box full of garbage that couldn't be used. You'll find these jewels cleverly scattered throughout this piece. Example: My deviant sex safe word is--
 "don't stop."
   I'm not sure what it is about the change of seasons but it seems to stretch far beyond a meteorological event. The world seems to come unhinged a bit more at springtime.
Semi-related, I have a nest of clinically insane songbirds singing and squatting outside my back door. I suppose I should view it as a celebration of life and new beginnings which prevents any hope of sleeping but, because I want to go to hell for the right reasons, I can't topple their nest and stomp them to death...no matter how loud they are.
   In other seasonal behavioral updates, I've been unfriended-- IN PERSON-- Eat a dick Facebook...and Russian hackers! Proof positive that I don't need a keyboard to lose friends.
   Someone recently asked (And I wish to God that I were making this up) if I had "unfriended" her on my ridiculously, horrible Facebook page. (for those who know me, insert hysterical laughter here.)
I equate this line of questioning to:
a) Do these shoes look okay?

b) So, which one of my friends would you sleep with if you had the chance?

c) You want a shot of peppermint schnapps?

d) Does this Mustang GT make my dick look bigger? etc.
   Elsewhere, according to a commercial, there seems to be a serious problem with regard to an apparent dire global crisis.

  In the company founder's own, solemn words:

"...The best ideas come from solving common problems. My problem, as with a lot of men...finding a shirt that looks good untucked, that's why I invented Untuckit."

CORRECT! That is precisely the topic which keeps me awake at night.
   Award winning writer, former broadcast colleague and professional hoarder, Amanda Port, has penned a brand new book, and it's quite funny.
From: Amanda
What should I title the book???  HELP!

From: James Patrick
Do a fun little game that I play and title it after whatever is in your car. In Amanda's case:
 
"A bunch of trash and a pair of high heels."

   However seasonal affective disorder finds you this springtime, remember this inspiring passage which aptly personifies new beginnings with each passing life chapter...
(insert some stupid, inspirational passage here)

copyright Flat Earth Media, 2018. All Rights Reserved.