In the 1960’s we would (all of us) eat cereal for breakfast. This is just a box of corn flakes or some other kind of super-sugary wheat or rice in various shapes and flavors. My favorites were always Cheerios, coco puffs, and Captain Crunch.

Today, living in China, I NEVER eat sugary cold breakfasts. Typically, I eat warm noodles in a soup, dumplings or a meat filled roll.

Warm. As opposed to cold.
Taste as opposed to sugar-saturated.
I think, and believe that my appearance is that of a normal human eating normal foods. As opposed to a stressed American eating super, hyper-processed foods. If you can, do what is in your abilities to eat better. Nothing will affect you more than what you eat, and who surrounds you.

It will define your stress level; your diet and thus your moods and general health.
Be good people.
Eat well; live well.

Today…
What’s the fastest you’ve ever seen someone fail a job interview?
Hmm, one that comes to mind was a candidate for a general IT person I needed for my department. And I felt bad for him.
We were a startup, growing fast, willing to take inexperienced folks, but in this case we were looking for some specific skills related to Windows Directory.
His resume (sent in by an agency) claimed he had lead an AD migration.
So I asked him about that. I might as well have asked him about how he’d perform a triple bypass heart surgery based on the confused look on his face. He stammered and seemed confused that I’d ask him about something like that.
I asked him exactly what his role was in the AD conversion project. “I simply took the floppy they gave me, booted each machine off of it and waited and then moved on.”
At that point I had a very sinking feeling. I asked him if he had a copy of his resume. He did. I looked at it. It had some different details than the one the agency had sent over.
I pointed out what was on my copy of his resume. And he confirmed my suspicion. The agency hadn’t made minor edits or even minor upsales which is common. They basically outright lied about his experience. Unfortunately at that point, based on his actual experience, I couldn’t hire him for the open position, but I did suggest he never use that agency again. I know I didn’t.
LOS ANGELES I.C.E. RAIDS – Feds Mobilize California National Guard for Immigration Enforcement; Going-in TONIGHT

After several high profile Immigration Raids in Los Angeles, crowds have begun to use force against Government Agents, trying to stop the round-up of ILLEGL ALIENS. Los Angeles Mayor Karen Bass publicly declared “We will not stand for this” and told the public to “Mobilize.”
Yesterday, one company owner, whose business was being raided, LOCKED IMMIGRATION AGENTS INSIDE HIS BUSINESS. FBI was called to get them out. When FBI arrived, upwards of a thousand people were blocking them, too. So FBI also called-in Los Angeles Police, who responded with officers in RIOT GEAR.
Yesterday, Friday 06 June 2025, tens-of-thousands marched in the streets opposing the round-up of thousands of additional ILLEGAL ALIENS.
Chaos also erupted as protesters clashed with law enforcement outside a federal detention center holding over 40 ILLEGAL ALIENS. Rubber bullets and tear gas flew. Riot police were called-in to the scene after demonstrators attempted to breach the facility following an ICE raid.
Today, Saturday 07 June 2025, even more are protesting. But the feds are having none of it.
President Trump has signed an Order calling the California State National Guard into federal service! Tonight and tomorrow, federal immigration raids will continue, protected by armed troops from the National Guard.
Pallets filled with Cinder Blocks have been dropped-off (anonymously) in areas where riots are expected. It is believed these cinder blocks are being strategically placed so protesters can hurl them at federal agents.
Protesters elsewhere have also been “equipped” with Cinder blocks and clearly, they’re being used:
Elsewhere in the city, Protesters are hurling rocks at marked and unmarked Immigration Vehicles as they drive away with arrested ILLEGAL ALIENS:
This next video shows what it is like INSIDE those vehicles as they get attacked:
Below, a Protester is shown aiming a gun at federal agents who are deploying Tear Gas to disperse rioters:
This activity is already bordering on an actual “Insurrection!” Given the fact that these people are marching on our streets, carrying FOREIGN FLAGS, this is also an “INVASION.”
“Border Czar” Tom Homan told FOX NEWS they are going in, TONIGHT!
Protesters backing illegal immigrants have turned parts of L.A. into a demolition derby.
News vans were smashed, roads barricaded, and tempers lit like it’s the Fourth of July.
Mexican flags have gone up, objects have been hurled, and back-up has been called.
Reporter, Matt Seedorff: “This is what’s left of our work car. It’s a brand new news truck that we got. Looks like they got cinderblocks through the window.”
Things will likely get very much worse tonight. Federal Immigration is engaging in mass scale, and the National Guard has been mobilized to protect the operation.
Whatever is about to happen tonight, Attorney General Pam Bondi has made it explicitly clear:
A Celestial Being Reveals What Happens After You Die: A Journey Beyond
How do you think China will react to the $500 billion deal that the Trump administration wants with Ukraine?
Trump wants Ukraine to repay the aid money in the form of arms and weapons Biden sent to Ukraine. Zelensky had earlier rebuffed the demand by Treasury Secretary Bessent to sign over the mining rights of rare earth to the US. His special envoy General Kellogg is in Kyiv meeting with Zelensky.
This is Trump’s style. Put pressures on Ukraine. It is a smart move. Ukraine has precious little to settle debts. US is the largest contributor of the military aids to Ukraine. It does not have preferential claim over its assets. But he wants to make the first assets grab of what he can get. Zelensky has baulked and if pushed to the wall, he could become obstinate. Europe or his NATO partners are worried. His settlement with Russia will leave them high and dry.
There is probably no basis for the price tag of $500 billion. According to US official figures, the amount of military it gave Ukraine was over $60 billion.
This matter does not concern China.
If your question relates to
(1) China’s ban of certain rare earth minerals to the US, and it has tightened its exports control laws to prevent third parties sourcing the controlled minerals to supply the US,
(2) with the result that US defence contractors have faced supply difficulties and forced to delay completions and deliveries of many projects, therefore
(3) US’s access to the rare earth mines in Ukraine would relief the supply difficulties for the defence contractors,
(4) do not bet on it. because,
(5) rare earth is not in short supply. The shortages are the minerals, of which China accounts for 60% to 80% of global supply. China controls the technologies to refine and process the minerals. The technologies are also under exports control.
(6) At any rate, it will be very many years before the supply from Ukraine would make a difference, if ever at all.
What are the most costly mistakes ever made in history?
Cleveland Balloon Festival in 1986
Balloons! The view is so beautiful. What can go wrong with balloons?
It all started when United Way, a non-profit organization decided to raise funds for charity and made an attempt to break the world record for the largest balloon launch.
Nearly 2,500 volunteers (mostly college students) worked day and night in a fenced-in area under a loose netting ceiling in the town square. The United Way will raise $1 for every two balloons filled.
The balloons fused together looked like some kind of giant, writhing monster ball.
But unfortunately, a rainstorm was coming and launching balloons during bad weather was not something they had planned.
So they changed their plans and ended up releasing the balloons earlier. Despite the earlier launch and the less than ideal weather, 1,429,643 balloons were released into the air, earning the feat a place in the Guinness Book of World Records in 1988.
Ah, but nothing is easy in Cleveland.
Hours later, the spectacular sight of the Terminal Tower filled with beautiful helium-filled balloons was marred by wind and rain that knocked the balloons to the ground prematurely.
As they say, what goes up must come down …
The falling balloons caused the local airport to close for 30 minutes and caused several car accidents, especially when drivers swerved to avoid the balloons. The owner of a prized Arabian horse whose horse was spooked by the falling balloons sued the United Way for $100,000 and eventually won in court.
Complaints have even reached Canada – where beachgoers have been seen walking in a sea of balloons.
Meanwhile, the Coast Guard blamed the balloons for complicating their search for the missing boater on Lake Erie. The man’s death prompted his wife to file a $3.2 million lawsuit against the United Way two years later. The wife eventually won the suit for an undisclosed amount.
The money spent due to the impact of the action could have been used for much better things considering that most of the funds probably came from donations from donors who hoped that their money would be used by United Way for good causes such as helping people in need.
There are still more bad impacts.
All 1.5 million balloons use helium, which is a valuable resource. The balloon festival results in the loss of a non-renewable resource because once released, helium is gone forever, and this rare gas is difficult to obtain and is very much needed in scientific and industrial activities.
It is clear that this was because the event was not well planned and the organizers should have paid more attention to the weather.
But hey, at least the view that day was amazing.
How did the Europeans react to the words of J.D. Vance in Munich, where he doubts the existence of democracy in Europe?
Well, when his speech concluded only three people clapped. They were part of Vance’s group. Stony silence from the adults in the room.
Then the German representative and ripped a few new holes in Vance and Trump. He spoke about the reality of letting Russia get away with this illegal invasion and how not reacting forcefully to it will only embolden Russia later. He got roaring applause from the entire room.
Vance sat there like the couch-fucking half-wit he is. The USA is done in Europe. They have thrown away their friends and allies. They are done in North America. They are done in South America. Your new friends are all dictators…Putin, Xi, Modi, Kim Jon-Un. These guys are low-lifes and if you are hanging out with them, you are a low-life too. And you certainly have no right to talk about democracy.
Vance was jabbering about letting Russia back into the G7. At this point I’d bet on the US getting booted from the G-7. I wouldn’t be surprised to see the US getting kicked out of NATO as well at this point, given that your president is a Russian asset. Five Eyes doesn’t trust you for the same reason. Your country is pretty much done on the international stage, seen as somewhere between irrelevant and a threat to peace, democracy and security.
COL. Douglas Macgregor : Fall of the American Empire
I saw on the news that the USA sends two hundred billion dollars to Canada every year. What is this money for and what would happen if the USA stopped sending this money?
I saw on the news that the USA sends two hundred billion dollars to Canada every year. What is this money for and what would happen if the USA stopped sending this money?
It is actually 481 billion dollars every year according to your government trade representative.
If you quit sending this money to Canada, Canadians will quit sending you 481 billion dollars worth of energy, goods and services.
The money sent to Canada is to buy stuff that we sell you. Stuff like electricity, natural gas and petroleum products that power and heat your homes and businesses. Stuff like aluminum to build aircraft, potash to grow your food and auto parts to build your cars. It includes cars and trucks. Do you drive a Silverado? It was built in Canada.
Now your idiot in chief wants to put a 25% tariff on all of that. Guess who pays that tariff? It isn’t Canadians or Canadian suppliers. It’s you. Your power goes up, your heating costs on your home and your gas at the pump goes up.
That fancy Silverado you want to buy into Texas with an MSRP of $77,305? Trump expects you to pay $96,631.25.
Guess who gets that extra almost $20K? Not Chevy, not the dealership, it goes to him. He gives your $20K to his rich buddies and they spend it on a house in Monaco or a yacht made in Italy.
The USA doesn’t give any money to Canada. American people and companies buy Canadian stuff, a lot of it. Trump wants you to pay a lot more for it. A tariff is a tax that you as a consumer will have to pay him.
East Indian Beef

Yield: 4 to 5 servings
Ingredients
- 1 1/2 pounds stewing beef, cut into 2 inch cubes
- 4 tablespoons flour
- Salt and pepper to taste
- 3 tablespoons vegetable oil
- 2 onions, diced
- 2 cups beef bouillon or broth
- 1 1/2 teaspoons curry powder
- 2 cloves garlic, mashed
- 1/2 teaspoon ground ginger
Instructions
- Wash beef and dry well.
- Combine flour with salt and pepper. Roll beef in seasoned flour and shake off the excess flour.
- Heat oil in large skillet or in slow cooker, if it has a browning unit. Brown meat on all sides. Remove meat with skillet residue to slow cooker.
- Combine all remaining ingredients in a bowl; mix well and pour over meat in slow cooker.
- Cover pot, turn to LOW and cook 6 to 8 hours, or until meat is tender.
- Serve with rice, chutney and an assortment of grated coconut, grated orange peel and salted nuts.
Have you ever experienced a food mix-up on a flight? Share your story.
Sort of.
I was in business class (on business). The steward came round, taking meal orders. He asked me what I would like.
The passenger next to me immediately snapped ‘I’ll have the beef.’
The steward repeated the question to me.
Me: ‘I’ll have the beef as well.’
Steward: ‘I’m sorry sir, but this ‘gentleman’ has just taken the last one…’ The other passenger smirked. ‘…so I would like you to choose something from the first class menu.’
He theatrically produced the menu, ostentatiously passed it to me across the other passenger, and said he’d come back in a few minutes to take my order.
By this stage, the other passenger was visibly fuming.
I enjoyed my meal.
The WSJ goes with Chinese innovation of Pharma now overtaking USA companies.
A Chinese commentator explains how. Simply it was down to racism and glass celilings where the deserters worked in US labs – they’ve gone back and set up lean mean research organisations instead of lazy nepotistic managed ones.
The Big Pharma model joins the death by a thousand cuts Resistance and death of the Unipolar empires financial wizards – they can only rush around trying to get into partnerships there now. But they can’t retain monopolies with fake overpriced over hyped tech,Pharma and the dry single advancing research field anymore.
It used to be that the majors would buy out the innovator and their inventions to put it on a shelf somewhere!
‘Rui Ma 马睿
@ruima
14h
Western Biotech’s “DeepSeek Moment” – China’s Rise in Pharma Innovation
The WSJ article opens with how Summit Therapeutics’ cancer drug, licensed from China’s Akeso, outperformed Merck’s $30B Keytruda. But apparently this isn’t all that special — Chinese companies now account for 31% of major pharma licensing deals, up from just 5% in 2020.
How Did China Get Here?
The investment bank Stifel listed the below provocative answers they think you’d hear if you asked Chinese biotech CEOs. (Some of these answers seem like they apply to multiple industries, especially #1 & 2.)
1️⃣ You didn’t appreciate us.
“We worked in your American labs, but you wouldn’t promote us. So we went back to China and built our own companies. Now that you see how good we are, don’t complain.”
2️⃣ We run lean and fast.
“Your biotechs are bloated with unnecessary FTEs, fancy executive suites, and endless meetings. We focus on innovation, not bureaucracy. You’re paying for overhead, not breakthroughs.” OUCH?!
3️⃣ We don’t need to steal your secrets.
“Finding novel epitopes and mastering phage display isn’t rocket science. We innovate just like you—except we work harder.”
4️⃣ You pushed Wuxi out—we welcomed them back.
“You decided Wuxi Biologics was a threat. Fine. Now they focus on our molecules, working faster at a fraction of the cost. Again, don’t complain.”
Why Chinese Biotech Is Winning
✅ Lower costs & streamlined clinical trials
✅ Lean operations with minimal bureaucracy
✅ Better drug candidates at lower prices
✅ Faster R&D with Wuxi and other CDMOs driving efficiency
Global Pharma’s Growing Dependence on China
– Nearly a third of licensed molecules in 2023-2024 came from China.
– VEGF x PD-1, a major oncology breakthrough for solid tumors, originated in China, where research remains ahead of Western counterparts.
– China is rapidly advancing first-in-class biologics and fundamental life sciences research.
Finally, efforts to cut off China (e.g., BioSecure Act) are losing momentum, as they offer little national security benefit.
What This Means for Western VC & Biotech
Chinese biotech isn’t just competing—it’s delivering better drugs at lower prices. If this trend continues, industry experts are predicting it could disrupt the U.S. biotech funding model, as VCs struggle to justify sky-high valuations when superior alternatives are available for less.
Meanwhile, India is also entering the game, adding to the competition.
I’m no biotech expert, but after loosely following the industry for the past two years, this WSJ headline doesn’t surprise me. A decade ago, when LPs asked me to look into China’s then-nonexistent biotech sector, I never could have predicted its rapid rise.
What’s more surprising—and disappointing—is seeing the U.S., once the gold standard for efficiency, now bogged down in the kind of bureaucracy I used to associate with China. But as a consumer, I’m excited to see China, India, and others join the race for better drugs.
Links below in comments.
Feb 9, 2025 · 8:00 PM UTC ‘
———————
This plus stories leaking on the Soros founder Internews and it’s decades of agitprop around the world and then at ‘home’ surely means that the New Yalta is underway and the surrender terms have been offered and accepted.
Remove the ‘tanks’ of othe la NS and dismantle them.
The final part will be the Nuremberg trials against such Nazis who escaped last time to recover se again shapeshifted as ziofascist global robber barons doing what they always were born and raised to do as dynasties.
The world will get better , quicker after having been held back by such turds and their willing collective waster smug supremacism shoved down our thoats by nearly a century of cultural hegemonic saviour complex propoganda.
Which other fake industries are left to reap the typhoons? Soap Powder? Advertisers? Movie Studios? 🤡🤡🤡
Posted by: DunGroanin | Feb 10 2025 13:05 utc | 15
While My Preg Bride Was Having An Affair W/ My Brother, I Was Packing Her Bags For A One Way Trip!
Even Xi Jin Ping admits that China’s economy is slowing down. Why do the Chinese on Quora insist that China’s economy is not slowing down?
Chinese do agree that the economic growth has slowed down.
But we also agree that life is better now so we’re happier and more confident.
Ask any Chinese, and he/she would tell you that compared to the 2010s when growth was faster:
The air quality has massively improved.
The new EVs are really cool in China across the board.
The new Chinese products are generally of higher quality that foreign imports.
The Chinese cultural market is blossoming.
The Chinese tech development is picking up pace.
The Chinese military can beat the US military on the Chinese shores relatively easily.
We’re much happier and more confident than 10 years ago. For speed of growth is not everything. The US grows at only 2% a year and nobody feels doomed.
What is the strangest incident that has ever happened on a plane?
A passenger stopped a plane from taking off because his peanuts were wrapped.
This passenger was not an ordinary passenger. She was the vice president of Korean Air, Heather Cho. At that time, Cho was boarding a plane bound for Incheon International Airport. Before the plane took off, passengers were given snacks in the form of macadamia nuts.
When the peanuts were served to Cho, he was furious and called the chief of cabin crew Park to protest. According to Cho, the peanuts should have been placed on a plate because Cho was a first-class passenger.
Park, at Cho’s insistence, knelt down and apologized. But the madness doesn’t stop there.
Cho as a vice president of Korean Air immediately fired Park and forced Park off the plane. To get Park off, the plane was forced to park back to the airport gate. As a result, the flight with 250 passengers was delayed for 20 minutes.
After being fired, Korean Airlines tried to contact Park dozens of times and asked Park to lie to airport officials that he had resigned voluntarily. The South Korean investigation team was also filled with former Korean Air employees. When Park was interrogated, Korean Air employees were allowed to join and even asked Park questions. Because Park felt that the South Korean government was no longer neutral, he decided to speak to the media.
The Korean public was shocked by this incident. One of the reasons is because the Korean public does have concerns about the abuse of power by the rich or
Chaebol - Wikipedia South Korean family-run business conglomerate A chaebol ( UK : / ˈ tʃ eɪ b əl , ˈ tʃ eɪ b ɒ l / CHAY -bəl, CHAY -bol , [ 1 ] [ 2 ] US : / ˈ tʃ eɪ b oʊ l , ˈ dʒ ɛ b əl / CHAY -bohl, JEB -əl ; [ 3 ] Korean : 재벌 [tɕɛbʌɭ] ⓘ , lit. ' rich family ' or ' financial clique ' ) is a large industrial South Korean conglomerate run and controlled by an individual or family. [ 3 ] A chaebol often consists of multiple diversified affiliates, controlled by a person or group. [ 4 ] Several dozen large South Korean family-controlled corporate groups fall under this definition. The term first appeared in English text in 1972. [ 3 ] Chaebol have also played a significant role in South Korean politics . In 1988, a member of a chaebol family, Chung Mong-joon , president of Hyundai Heavy Industries , successfully ran for the National Assembly of South Korea . Other business leaders were also chosen to be members of the National Assembly through proportional representation . [ 5 ] Hyundai has made efforts in the thawing of North Korean relations , despite some controversy. [ 6 ] Many South Korean family-run chaebol have been criticised for low dividend payouts and other governance practices that favor controlling shareholders at the expense of ordinary investors . [ 7 ] "Chaebol" is derived from the McCune–Reischauer romanization of the Korean word 재벌 ( chaebŏl ), without the breve above the o. In 2000, the South Korean Ministry of Tourism introduced a new system of converting the Korean language into the Roman alphabet called Revised Romanization . [ 8 ] Under the new transliteration style, 재벌 is written as jaebeol , not chaebol. Despite McCune–Reischauer being largely abandoned in South Korea, the term is still ubiquitously written as chaebol. The word originates from the Sino-Japanese term zaibatsu ( 財閥 ), where 財 means 'wealth' and 閥 means 'clan'. [ 9 ] The Japanese zaibatsu dominated their economy from 1868 until they were dissolved under the American Occupation of Japan in 1945. The rise and proliferation of the Korean chaebol resembles the Japanese zaibatsu at their peak. The word has been loaned into English since at least 1972. [ 3 ] The former headquarters of Hyundai in Seoul South Korea's economy was small and predominantly agricultural well into the mid-20th century. However, the policies of President Park Chung Hee spurred rapid industrialisation by promoting large businesses, following his seizure of power in 1961. The First Five Year Economic Plan [ 4 ] by the government set industrial policy towards new investment, and chaebols were to be guaranteed loans from the banking sector. The chaebol played a key role in developing new industries, markets, and export production, helping make South Korea one of the Four Asian Tigers . Although South Korea's major industrial programs did not begin until the early 1960s, the origins of the country's entrepreneurial elite were found in the political economy of the 1950s. Very few Koreans owned or managed larger corpo
(Heather Cho apologizes to the public)
To appease the public, Korean Air forced Vice President Cho to resign. But it seemed to be ineffective. Cho was sentenced to one year in prison for disrupting flight safety. Former Chief Cabin Crew Park then sued Korean Airlines and won. Park is entitled to a total compensation of around 635 million rupiah.
This incident was widely discussed in Korea, even to the point of being parodied by KBS television broadcast in the Gag Concert program.
(Kang Kyun-sung parodies Heather Cho )
Breadsticks
Submitted into Contest #210 in response to: Set your story after aliens have officially arrived on Earth.… view prompt
Story Time
Originally, they had no plans to try out any of the fast casual restaurants the world had to offer. They were on a very strict timeline–
- Arrive on Earth.
- Bring together mankind under an umbrella of peace and kindness.
- Meet Paul Simon.
- Go home.
Peace and kindness didn’t take very long, but Paul Simon was a hard man to pin down.
When the aliens finally got him on the phone, he cautiously agreed to meet with them provided they did not force him to sing “Call Me Al.” Of course, this was every alien’s favorite song, and they were desperate to hear him sing it live, but they played it cool, and said “Oh yeah, no, it’s fine, you don’t have to sing ‘Call Me Al.’ You can sing something else instead. ‘Sound of Silence’ is great. You can sing that.’”
The aliens did not want to hear “Sound of Silence.” It creeped them out, and made them think about the vastness of space. Still, hanging out with Paul Simon was part of the mission whether or not he agreed to sing the song of their choice.
After some back-and-forth about where they should meet, Paul suggested a place near his house that he liked going to. A little Italian place named Olive’s Garden.
The aliens said “Uh huh, uh huh, we got it,” but they were only half-paying attention, because one of them had just discovered what a walnut was, and they were fascinated by it. When they realized they couldn’t remember the exact name of the restaurant where they were supposed to meet Paul Simon, they began to panic. They didn’t want to have to call back one of the Universe’s greatest songwriters and tell him that they weren’t paying attention to them, even though, had he been singing “You Can Call Me Al,” they definitely would have been paying attention.
That was when the alien with the biggest ears said–
“Wait! I think he mentioned something about a garden? And Italy? An Italian garden?”
The aliens knew from their calculations that Google would ultimately create an AI system that would overrun humanity and go to war with every other lifeform in the galaxy, but that was a year or two off, so they weren’t worried about it right then and there. They used it to look up Italian gardens in the area and “Olive Garden” popped up, but, truthfully, even if they had remembered that it was “Olive’s Garden” chances are “Olive Garden” still would have popped up, because why would you name a restaurant “Olive’s Garden” and serve Italian food unless you wanted people to confuse you with the Olive Garden?
(Sidenote: After this story was completed, we did a little digging, and it turns out that the owner of “Olive’s Garden” does want people to confuse their establishment with the Olive Garden, because it means people go to their restaurant expecting the Olive Garden, and when they get there, they think “Well, we’re already here” and that’s how Olive’s Garden stays in business.)
When the aliens got to the Olive Garden, they didn’t see Paul Simon, but they decided to sit anyway since most of their party had already arrived. The hostess was a polite nineteen-year-old who was attending the local community college on her way to being a marine biologist. She thought one of the aliens might be a manatee, but she couldn’t be sure, because she hadn’t finished her studies yet.
Once the aliens were seated, the waiter–a forty-three year-old named Andy, who was a kindergarten teacher that needed to make extra money on the side–came by and offered to take their drink orders. On their home planet, the aliens drank a mixture that was half mercury and half bromine. On Earth, they’d order Diet Coke. No matter how strange it was to see an alien enjoying a beverage, if the beverage was Diet Coke, people seemed to be less bothered by the visual. One alien without a mouth would simply order the Diet Coke and then hold it in alternating hands without ever drinking it. Even this would seem to placate humans who were still getting used to the aliens.
“We’ll have Diet Cokes,” Joseph, the lead alien, said to Andy, the waiter.
(Sidenote: His name was not really Joseph, but we don’t have the proper alphabet available to us to spell the alien’s real name, so we’re going with Joseph, because Joseph is a nice name. Our uncle was named Joseph, and he would buy us shaved ice in the summer.)
After the Diet Cokes were brought over and distributed amongst the extraterrestrials, Joseph asked what they would like to eat. By this time, the aliens thought perhaps Paul Simon had gotten tied up writing a new song, and maybe that new song would be just as good as “You Can Call Me Al” (although it didn’t seem likely) and maybe they should just order without him since they were already here and Andy seemed so nice and everybody seemed so happy and the hostess had said something about being family (even though it was very unlikely that she’d be related to them) and so they asked what the best dish on the menu was since they had watched a human movie where a character had done that.
“Um,” said Andy, “People usually start with the salad and breadsticks and then–”
“How many breadsticks come with a breadstick order,” asked Joseph, who wanted to make sure there would be enough breadsticks for everyone, even though one of them didn’t have a mouth and another one was just a ball of gas that floated around in front of the aliens.
(Sidenote: Her name is also unspellable, but we’ll call her Betty.)
“You can have as many as you want,” said Andy, “They’re unlimited.”
The aliens knew all about time and space being unlimited, but they didn’t realize the rules of infinity could also apply to food.
“What sort of mythical place is this,” asked Joseph, as Betty floated behind him making everything smell faintly of sulfur.
Andy began bringing by breadsticks, and as soon as the aliens tried them, they became ravenous. While human food had never really appealed to them, this food did not seem all that human. It was both unique and bland. Over-seasoned and lightly touched by spices. Eating it felt almost like attempting to solve one of the Universe’s greatest puzzles. Compared to breadsticks, world peace was like a game of Candyland.
(Sidenote: Aliens don’t play Candyland and they don’t know what candy is, but we wanted to make sure you understood just how in awe of breadsticks they were.)
Their salads went mostly untouched, although Betty seemed to enjoy the giant olives. She’d plop one into the space where her mouth would be and the olives would fall down to the floor, but she’d be delighted all the same.
When Andy asked if they’d like to try any entrees, they laughed at his folly.
Entrees?
You mean the things that aren’t unlimited?
Why bother with any of that?
Why, if someone offers you an endless supply of milk, you’d be foolish to tell him to stop and go get you orange juice, wouldn’t you?
The aliens were eating the breadsticks at a startling rate. Soon, the kitchen was nearly out, and everyone else in the restaurant was wondering why they were getting fewer and fewer breadsticks with each order. The management had decided that it was important to satisfy the aliens since they were from another galaxy and also because they had made everybody stop fighting and get along and return their library books and share their Wifi passwords and littering was a thing of the past and nobody took videos during concerts anymore.
Unfortunately, the kitchen did run out of the breadsticks and the aliens were still eating. Waiters were dispatched to other Olive Gardens to get breadsticks from them. When the managers at those other Olive Gardens heard there were aliens enjoying their breadsticks, they saw it as their duty to continue to feed the visitors until they were no longer hungry.
(Sidenote: An alien’s stomach is one big loop. The food goes around and around like it’s on a hamster’s wheel until it disintegrates, but the alien is never really “full.”)
Soon, all the Olive Gardens in the state had closed their doors to the public. No one was allowed in, as they had become merely breadstick factories. The breadsticks were made and then delivered to the Olive Garden where the aliens sat, ate, and ordered more.
When the other restaurants began running low, there was some discussion of apologizing profusely to the aliens, and accepting defeat. That suggestion was quickly shot down by the corporate marketing team.
“You cannot say we’re out of breadsticks,” said Timothy Frank, the Head of Olive Garden Marketing, “Unlimited breadsticks are the cornerstone of our brand. If the aliens want more, you have to give them more. You can’t say we’re out. It could collapse the brand.”
Similar to when the President invokes the Defense Production Act, the Olive Garden has the option to invoke the Eternal Breadstick Act. It’s a rule without the Olive Garden’s Constitution that when there is a breadstick shortage, several dormant factories can be activated, staffed, and operated 24/7 until the shortage is no longer an issue. This has only happened once in the history of Olive Gardens, and it was on Father’s Day of 2009.
The aliens had no idea they were causing such a fuss, and had they known, they would have gladly stopped eating breadsticks and ordered a chicken piccata instead. It was only because nobody made them aware of the disturbance that they kept on eating even as every other customer in the restaurant vacated the premises.
News reports began circulating about the Great Breadstick Battle even though it wasn’t quite a battle, and even though it was irresponsible to frame it as such since a battle with the aliens would have ended quickly, and humanity would not have been on the winning side. Then again, that’s the media for you. They threw up graphics on their newscasts of breadsticks being shot at by laser guns held by little green men, and people began to wonder if Olive Garden would go bankrupt due to the aliens who had simply come to end all war and meet Paul Simon.
Had it not been for a small miracle, the aliens might have indeed taken Olive Garden to its very limit. Luckily, Betty had, at that point, dropped so many breadsticks on the ground that Joseph saw what a mess was being made, and, not wanting Betty to feel badly about her inability to hold matter inside herself, clapped his tentacles together and announced that dinner was over, and they all needed to head back to the ship.
Before he paid the bill (and tipped handsomely), he offered to help clean up the mess Betty had made, but Andy was so thrilled the aliens were leaving, he put on a show of not caring one bit about the pile of food on the floor, even though it was going to take an hour or two to clean it, and it had already been seventy-three hours since the aliens first entered the Olive Garden.
Once they had exited the building, the staff all walked outside to see a glowing orb ascend above the shopping plaza they were located in, and a series of lights blinked on and off across the center of the orb. This was a farewell from the aliens, and the Olive Garden staff were touched that they were being acknowledged in this way. It made them understand that the true meaning of connection is–
“Excuse me?”
A small man with a guitar was standing in front of the staff who hadn’t noticed him, because they were all looking up at the sky.
“I was supposed to meet some friends at this place down the road, but I think they got the name wrong,” the man said, “Do you have a table for one? I’m starving and could really go for some breadsticks.”
By then, the aliens were off to another strange world, spinning in infinity.
How did China develop DeepSeek with less than 50 million USD when Trump is saying we need billions?
I ask the Janus (Deepseek 1B model), this is the smallest model I can download and cramp into my 4060 with 8GB RAM. It’s the “dumbest” model possible.
In under 10 seconds it was able to take the Meme.
rationalize it to the following:-
This image is a humorous meme that juxtaposes two different contexts, using the same person to represent two distinct scenarios. Here’s the breakdown:
1. **Top Image**: The person is shown aiming a gun, labeled “Open AI.” This references the development of the OpenAI project, which aims to create a large-scale language model. The image suggests that the person is “using” or “using” Open AI in a serious or professional manner.
2. **Bottom Image**: The same person is shown pointing a gun at another individual, labeled “Deepseek.” This references the popular Chinese video game “DeepSeek,” which involves a player using a gun to “hunt” for hidden objects. The image humorously suggests that the person is “using” or “using” DeepSeek in a playful or absurd manner.
### Overall Meaning:
The meme humorously contrasts the serious tone of OpenAI with the lighthearted, playful nature of Deepseek. It plays on the idea that the person is using Open AI in a way that is exaggerated or absurd, much like the context of the game.
The Gradio Interface running off my desktop, which sends all the images and forms to the backend, running off a Dockerize GPU-aware container.
What this means is, that me, or anyone of you with a fairly powerful GPU can run this in your own home. By allocating one of my servers for this, I can now use my other PCs, which uses standard huggingface interface, connect to the API, and have a personal AI assistant which doesn’t send my information out of my network… haven’t tried embeddings yet… but there you go. Deepseek is a paradigm shift, a smart enough and small enough model, which isn’t a distilled AI.
Shorpy















Sir Whiskerton and the Tale of Bigcat’s Big Plans
Ah, dear reader, prepare yourself for another whisker-twitching adventure in the life of Sir Whiskerton, the farm’s most brilliant (and modest) detective. Today’s tale involves a new feline foe, a cat so large he could eclipse the sun if he stood on his hind legs. His name? Bigcat. And he’s got his sights set on assimilating Sir Whiskerton’s farm—and Catnip’s—into his ever-expanding empire. What follows is a story filled with laughs, schemes, and a moral that will leave you grinning like a mouse who just outsmarted a cat. So grab your sense of humor and let’s pounce into The Tale of Bigcat’s Big Plans.
Bigcat’s Grand Ambitions
It all began on a quiet afternoon when Sir Whiskerton was enjoying his usual spot on the barn roof, sipping Earl Grey tea with a dash of cream. The peace was shattered by the sound of Cluckadia the chicken squawking at the top of her lungs.
“Sir Whiskerton! Sir Whiskerton!” Cluckadia flapped her wings frantically. “There’s a new cat in town, and he’s BIG. Like, ‘I-ate-all-the-pies-and-then-ate-the-baker’ big!”
Sir Whiskerton adjusted his monocle. “Big, you say? How big?”
“His name is Bigcat,” Cluckadia panted. “He’s got two hench-felines—Putter, a scrawny Siamese who’s all brains, and Goliath, a muscle-bound oaf who can leap tall barns in a single bound but can’t figure out how to open a cat flap. And he’s talking about ‘assimilating’ your farm and Catnip’s into his empire!”
Sir Whiskerton nearly spilled his tea. “Assimilate? Over my dead catnip bush! Fetch Catnip at once. This calls for an emergency meeting.”
The Meeting of the Minds
The two rival cats met at the border of their farms, where a rickety fence served as a neutral zone. Catnip arrived, chewing on a piece of straw and looking thoroughly unimpressed.
“Bigcat, huh?” Catnip said, flicking his tail. “Sounds like a real fat cat. What’s the plan, Whiskers?”
Sir Whiskerton ignored the nickname. “Bigcat’s weakness is his ego. If we can make him look foolish in front of his minions, he’ll retreat to save face.”
Catnip grinned. “I like it. Let’s give him the old paw-and-order treatment.”
The First Challenge: Cat Chess
The next day, Bigcat arrived in all his enormous, fluffy glory. He was so large that he had to ride in a wheelbarrow pushed by Putter, while Goliath lumbered behind, carrying a banner that read: Bigcat’s Empire: Resistance is Furry-tile.
“Greetings, peasants!” Bigcat boomed, his voice echoing like a tuba. “I am Bigcat, and I have come to claim your farms. Bow before my magnificence, or face the claws of justice!”
Sir Whiskerton stepped forward, his monocle glinting. “Ah, Bigcat. We’ve heard much about your… girth. But before you assimilate us, perhaps you’d like to prove your worth in a contest of wits and skill?”
Bigcat narrowed his eyes. “A contest? Very well. I accept. But know this: I am purr-fect in every way.”
The first challenge was a game of cat chess, devised by Sir Whiskerton. Bigcat, confident in his intellect, sat down opposite the tuxedo cat. But Sir Whiskerton had rigged the board—every piece was glued down except for Bigcat’s king. When Bigcat tried to move his knight, the entire board flipped over, sending cream pie (courtesy of Catnip) flying into his face.
“Checkmate,” Sir Whiskerton said with a smirk.
Bigcat sputtered, wiping cream from his whiskers. “This is an outrage! Putter, do something!”
Putter adjusted his tiny glasses. “Uh, sir, I think we’ve been outmaneuvered.”
The Second Challenge: The Agility Course
The second challenge was an agility course, set up by Catnip. Goliath bounded through it with ease, but when it was Bigcat’s turn, he got stuck in the tunnel (which, to be fair, was designed for cats half his size). Catnip couldn’t stop laughing. “Looks like Bigcat’s more of a wide load than a road warrior!”
Bigcat, red-faced and humiliated, called off the contest. “This isn’t over!” he declared as Putter and Goliath helped him back into the wheelbarrow. “I’ll be back, and next time, I won’t be so fur-giving!”
A Happy Ending
With Bigcat’s entourage in retreat, Sir Whiskerton and Catnip shared a rare moment of camaraderie. “We make a good team,” Catnip admitted. “But don’t let it go to your head, Whiskers.”
Sir Whiskerton chuckled. “Likewise, Catnip. Now, how about a celebratory tea party? I’ve got some fresh catnip scones.”
Catnip groaned. “You’re impossible.”
The moral of the story, dear reader, is this: Even the biggest egos can be deflated with a little teamwork and a lot of humor. And remember, when life gives you a Bigcat, just add cream pie.
As for Sir Whiskerton? He returned to his sunbeam, content in the knowledge that he had once again saved the day—and spared the farm from further feline-related chaos.
Until next time, my friends.
The End.
Problem :-
Is √ ³√ ³√(144852260436662/163015) less than or equal to or greater than pi , if you take pi as equal to 3.14 only
Meta AI was wrong
Gemini was right but it’s working out was absolutely wrong and calculations were wrong
Let’s break down the expression and evaluate it step by step:
You are asking about:
- \sqrt{ \sqrt[3]{ \sqrt[3]{\frac{144852260436662}{163015}}}}
We need to evaluate this and compare it with .
Step 1: Simplify the fraction inside the cube roots
- \frac{144852260436662}{163015} = 889098
Step 2: Take the cube root of 889098
- \sqrt[3]{889098} \approx 97.370
Step 3: Take the cube root again
- \sqrt[3]{97.370} \approx 4.634
Step 4: Take the square root
- \sqrt{4.634} \approx 2.153
Step 5: Compare the result with
We have , which is less than .
Conclusion:
The value of the given expression is less than , when is approximated as 3.14.
ChatGPT was wrong
Deepseek was RIGHT!!!!
How do Chinese people feel when Westerners mock them for eating snakes and scorpions and for having very squinted eyes?
Hi, Railer of Wumaos. Thank you for the very interesting question and the A2A.
As a Chinese who has lived, worked, and studied abroad in more than a handful of non-Asian countries, I feel I’m qualified to answer this question.
I remember when I first heard someone throw the below at me:
“Hey, if I put dental floss over your eyes, can you even see?”
I was a little shocked, to put it mildly. The fact that the fellow who directed it at me tried to brush it off as a joke, one that, judging by his reaction, I should clearly find amusing, opened my eyes – pardon the pun – to just how vile some people can be.
I learned, firsthand, that there are people out there who think that Chinese have the smallest eyes in the world, and that they think it perfectly acceptable to comment on our “tiny” and “squinty” eyes right in front of us.
But now that I’m in my 30s, I’m a little too long in the tooth to let something like that faze me anymore.
Vile as it was, I can think of others that have been more vile. For example, there’s the one about how “Chinese people must have a hard time diagnosing Down Syndrome among themselves because Chinese people all look like they have Down Syndrome.”
I thought that one was particularly nasty, but the person who was spouting that guffawed like it was the funniest thing in the world.
Nowadays, if I hear something like that, even directed at my person, it would be very much like water off a duck’s back – I’ve had too much life experience and have so many good things going for me in my life right now that it just goes in one ear and out the other.
What I will still be very careful of is if the person actually threatens my person. For example, I once encountered a bogan who threatened to strangle me with the telephone cord at a nearby phonebooth. In this case, I hightailed it out of there without a second thought.
Also, the case a couple of years ago, when a group of feral teens on their bikes started throwing glass bottles at my head before surrounding me as a group and started physically attacking me.
In these cases, I would be quite concerned and do my best to depart from the area – and thus take myself out of danger – as quickly as possible.
For better or worse, I am the non-confrontational type.
So, now, “Squinty eyes” ?
As long as my girl and other Chinese girls out there find my eyes attractive, that’s all that matters to me 🙂
As for mocking Chinese on eating “snakes and scorpions” – I’ve already heard that plenty of times, both online and off.
If what I eat is considered to be “snakes and scorpions” by non-Chinese, so be it.
I’m happy to continue eating my “snakes and scorpions”!
Would be happy to invite them to have a hearty breakfast of “snakes and scorpions” with me 😊:
Hope I’ve answered your question Railer of Wumaos!
Have an amazing day and wonderful week ahead!
Fresh meat
Submitted into Contest #210 in response to: Set your story after aliens have officially arrived on Earth.… view prompt
James Larder
The alien waved back at the heckler, to try and diffuse his apparent distain and demonstrate that no hard feelings were held, but this appeared to make things worse. The alien still had not worked out why it was that humans got offended by the alien wave. Would the alien stop waving though? No. It was important to keep up with the local custom, as a sign of respect. Also, there was no way of them speaking Earth languages, just as it was not feasible for humans to speak Krotonian.
The ill wisher continued- ‘Comin’ over ‘ere, stealin’ our jobs! I ‘ate you!’
The alien had a ballpark idea of what the disgruntled chap was saying, it was commonplace slur. The alien could have retorted, minus the language barrier and explained, rationally, that they were both in the same boat, so to speak. Downtrodden. After thoughts. Oppressed. Making them kindred spirits. Brothers in the quarrel against tyranny and comrades in the fight for justice. Alas, however, all the alien was able to do was nod. Again, this didn’t go down well at all.
‘Ya scab!’ The human yelled, as he removed his shoe and threw it at the alien. The shoe was a size ten. Brown. It bounced off the alien’s shoulder. Given the size of the alien, the shoe was no bigger than a pack of cards, comparatively. The alien instinctively stooped to retrieve the errant footwear but this only served to anger the offended party further.
‘Don’t you touch my property, ya filth bag scum!’ The man was hysterical.
There was a general consensus amongst the humans that the aliens carried with them some kind of disease and that the mere act of contact would cause infection. Cross contamination. As a result, the humans kept their distance physically. The alien stood upright again and left the shoe in place.
‘Everythin’ were perfect before you came ‘ere!’ The man continued ranting whilst the alien took leave. ‘Paradise! Like a postcard! Everyday were like heaven! You ruined it, ya purple freaks!’
The man was still going as the alien turned the corner. This street was a known route for aliens, coming back and forth from the main factory, and was frequented by unemployed townsfolk on a daily basis, who had nothing better to do than shout at the Krotonians, blaming them for all their problems. Any perceived ill was now designated to the cosmic visitors- Cancer. Broken limbs. Alcoholism- All attributable to the aliens.
The next street the alien wandered onto was even more lively than the one before. A pastor of some sort was stood on an upturned, wooden crate and was preaching to a small group. ‘And I tell you, if you renounce all worldly sins and accept the Lord God Jesus into your hearts and souls, there will be salvation. For this cesspool we are festering in today is nothing more than a purgatorial nightmare, whereby we have been sent to, for punishment, for the misdemeanours committed in our previous life. It was the Apps, my brothers and sisters and everyone in between- Created by Beelzebub himself. The pixels. No man, woman, child or beast could escape the Lord our God’s vengeful wrath for our slovenly purge of the senses. We must pay- We all must pay!’
The pastor then noticed the alien skulking past and quickly turned his attention towards the extra terrestrial. ‘There’s one now! One of Satan’s henchmen! Sent to spy on the righteous! A messenger for the Devil. Orders from bellow to rock our boat of peace and tranquillity and tempt us with the sins of the mind! Well, not today, you demon child! Not on my watch- Begone with you, you salamander- The power of Christ compels you!’ The pastor took a glass of water out of a cardboard box and threw it over the alien’s face. The crowd cheered as the alien recoiled and the water went in it’s eye. The pastor was satisfied with the coverage he’d achieved but was reluctant to take full credit. ‘I am no perfect marksman, my friends, my hand was guided by the Lord! See how the holy water burns through the beast’s flesh that is not flesh. See how it writhes as it’s dowsed with the juice of God!’
The alien picked up the pace and got to the far end of the street, out of reach of the mental priest, who’s hand was now being kissed by several of his constituents. His throwing hand. Sacred it was to them now. Possessed they perceived it to be, with some kind of absent, remote divinity.
Despite the aliens being nine foot tall and as strong as Rhinos, the humans had no qualms over abusing them, for the threat of retaliation did not exist. The aliens were subservient pacifists. However, just in case one of the aliens lost the plot in a red mist fit of rage, the world government struck a deal with Kroton 14, stating that if so much as one strike was cast towards any human, all the Krotonians would be deported instantly, via the way they came aka teleportation, and their Earth visas would not be renewed. The leaders of Kroton 14 had also issued a stark warning to all its representatives on Earth and told them, in no uncertain terms, that any Krotonian found in breach of the strict government guidelines would be punished with one thousand years of solitary confinement, followed by a public execution. A messy one- Hung, drawn and quartered. Old school.
‘Spare some change, please?’ A homeless woman asked, as the alien passed her house- An upturned barrel used originally for the transportation of clams. The aliens were not exposed to money and so never carried it. The homeless woman knew this but was likely on autopilot. The alien ignored her accordingly.
The arrival of the aliens had been timed to coincide with the unveiling of gated communities on Earth. It had been common knowledge amongst the elite that the fuel would run out by 2050 and so, a twenty year plan to build the exclusive havens for the rich and the powerful and their bloodlines commenced. By the time the mass population realised what was happening, it was too late. By 2049, the Earth switched to renewable energy and all harvested power from wind, solar and wave automatically funnelled into the gated communities. Anyone outside the communities had to go back to basics. ‘We’ve left you plenty of wood.’ The leaders declared, as they sailed through the skies in blimps. ‘It’s character building. For you. Like a Robinson Crusoe adventure.’
Humans were obviously furious about this shift in dynamic but they were powerless, annoyingly. ‘If you don’t like it, you can leave at any time.’ Was the company line, touted amongst the leaders, like a slogan. To coincide with this, Euthanasia kits were free and available from all drugstores. The aliens had brought with them the secret of life and death and so, many humans simply chose to commit suicide rather than suffer the increasingly harsh conditions, knowing that it really didn’t matter whether they lived for another hour or another century. Drowning babies at birth was common practice.
The world government was more than happy for the aliens to take on the vast majority of planet Earth’s manual labour, meaning that the working class were mostly unemployed. It was no longer necessary to keep up the pretence that the majority of the human population were anything other than slaves. Now, however, they were worse than slaves, in a way, for they were useless. At least BA (Before aliens), there was a convenient veil of pretence- Illusion- Where everyone went about their lives, as if their made up jobs mattered. Roles such as sales executive, customer service representative, brand manager, Human resources, insurance etc were all commonplace. All absolutely pointless, of course, but all accepted pass times. But now that the lid was off Pandora’s box, it was impossible to be expected to get paid for anything that was not absolutely necessary for survival and nearly all these jobs had now been given to the aliens. Manufacturing. Food production. Maintenance- All alien roles. But here’s the kicker- All goods produced were ferried directly to the gated communities and so, anyone outside was left to essentially fend for themselves. Pets were not a thing anymore- All animals were eaten on sight. You’d kill and skin a cat soon as look at it, these days. Dogs were considered a rare treat. The plump ones like Pugs and French Bulldogs were eaten only on very special occasions and bread for this reason alone. Needless to say, the blame for the human’s dire predicament was placed almost exclusively on the aliens, for no government officials were left in the vicinity.
The aliens were compensated for their valuable services by receiving basic accommodation and a modest allowance of tokens that could be exchanged for Earth goods like body lotion or magnets or deodorant- Whatever they wanted. In return, they were expected to work seven day weeks, twenty hour days. This sounds a lot to us humans but the aliens did not require sleep or water and they tele-imported their own food, which only needed to be eaten once monthly. What’s more, they needed to be constantly moving, like sharks, and so the more work they were given the better. Even if they were sat down, they would need to tap their foot or shake their hands, else they would cease up and lose circulation. After two minutes of inactivity, they would harden like a log. After five minutes, they would crystallise and after ten minutes, they would shatter into a million pieces. A risk that no Krotonians were willing to take.
The alien finally reached it’s humble dwellings after navigating the gauntlet of terror that was the three streets walk from the factory to it’s house. It breathed a sigh of relief as the latch went on the front door and it took off it’s alien coat, which to us humans, could closely be described as plasma. The alien’s wife was sat on the sofa, wagging her finger. Not out of distain but in the interest of not perishing from stagnation. ‘You’re late.’ The alien’s wife said, as the alien slunk over to the couch. The alien sat beside it’s wife. ‘Urgh!!!’ The wife recoiled. ‘What’s that?!’
‘Some crazy man threw Earth water on me.’ The alien explained. ‘Well get it away from me!’ The alien’s wife pushed the alien. ‘It’s all me, me, me with you innit?!’
The alien patiently moved away from it’s wife. It may sound like the alien’s wife was a total bitch, from your perspective, cause you’ve only just met her, but she wasn’t always like this. On Kroton 14, she was the sweetest alien in their respective town. All the aliens were smitten with her, due to her kind disposition and youthful glow but being on Earth had sent the alien’s wife West and she one eighty’d into this battle axe you read before you now. The alien was prepared to stick it out though, as this living situation was only temporary and it was confident it’s wife would return to normal, once they were back on Kroton 14. If not, the alien would simply kill the wife, as was the local custom, given that divorce was prohibited but murder was perfectly fine. A simple procedure.
All the aliens were told they would only need to stay on Earth for two hundred years, after which they could return to Kroton 14 and live the rest of their lives in comfort and harmony. The average lifespan of Krotonians was around 10,000 years, so 200 years was nowt to them, the equivalent of around three human years.
The alien changed the subject. ‘What’ve you been up to?’ It asked it’s wife, as it dabbed it’s face with a tea towel.
The alien’s wife scoffed. ‘What do you think?’
The alien glanced at the telly. The hologram humans were sat in Central Perk. ‘Ah lovely.’ The alien said, with veined enthusiasm.
‘Don’t patronise me.’ The alien’s wife replied, as it turned up the volume, presumably to drown out the sound of it’s husband’s breathing. The alien’s wife was obsessed with the TV show ‘Friends’. Even though New York had long since sunk, the alien’s wife kept banging on about taking a trip there, saying it wanted to know what it would be like to be Rachel and insisting they go to Bloomingdales, where the alien’s wife planned to re-enact a shopping spree, by hiring a boat and floating over the rough spot of the underwater department store. Sometimes, the alien’s wife made them do Ross and Rachel roleplay, in the bedroom, where the alien would have to pretend to be on an archaeological dinosaur dig but then uncover ‘Rachel’ (The alien’s wife) who had been buried under the soil for millennia, yet preserved. Shortly after the discovery, they would copulate. The alien went along with it, even though it had absolutely no interest in dinosaurs or ‘Friends’. Or sex for that matter. Happy wife, happy life- That was the moto amongst the Krotonian husbands and a code of honour it would take to the grave. Not that they had graves, for the aliens instantly spontaneously combusted upon death.
The alien’s wife went into it’s daily tirade, like clockwork. The alien braced itself. ‘If we had a child, that would keep me occupied. Whilst you’re at work.’
‘We’ve talked about this, sugar head- This is no world to bring a new life into.’
‘Well God damn it, Dave- I’m bored out of my freakin mind!’ All aliens were given human names on arrival, to make the admin easier, as the Krotonian names were impossible to pronounce and could not be written in alphabetic letters.
‘Why don’t you try one of the Earth hobbies?’
The alien’s wife laughed hard. ‘What would you suggest? Archery? Badminton? Knitting?!’ The alien’s wife lit a cigarette. It now smoked twenty fags a day, despite the fact that the aliens did not have lungs and so, the smoke would simply seep out of their orifices, rendering the expensive habit completely futile. However, the alien’s wife had discovered that Jennifer Aniston was a smoker around the time that ‘Friends’ was being filmed and thus, endeavoured to do just the same. The Krotonians didn’t have hair in the traditional sense but nevertheless, the alien’s wife had managed to source a human wig and get it fashioned into a ‘Rachel’ hairstyle- Proper layered like she had in Seasons 1- 3. The alien’s wife chugged on it’s Marlboro light as it jeered it’s husband. ‘You’re pathetic, Dave.’
The alien sighed and put on it’s coat again.
‘Where the fuck do you think you’re going?’ The alien’s wife asked.
‘I have to go back to work. Overtime.’
‘Oh great,’ the alien’s wife stubbed out it’s cigarette on a its own palm- The pain reminded it that it was still alive. ‘Go on then. Leave me again- Like you always do. You’re just like Ross. Coward.’
‘Duty calls, Pumpkin tears.’ The alien said, as it skulked out of the front door again. The sound of ‘The Rembrandts- I’ll be there for you’ could be heard from the street, as the living room window was open. In truth, the alien did not have to go back to work again for another three and a half hours, but being outside was preferable to being stuck in the house with it’s spiteful wife.
‘Kiss my arse, you thieving stardust prick!’
A bone hit the alien in the head. By the looks of it, the bone had originally belonged to a human thigh. It didn’t hurt though. The bone. The aliens were very thick skulled. The bone had a similar effect that the impact of a matchstick would have on you or I. The alien picked up the bone and held it up to the assailant, asking if he wanted it back, to which the offender let out a blood curdling scream and sprinted in the opposite direction. ‘This place is fuckin weird.’ The alien thought to itself, as it dropped the bone and crossed the road.
The alien made it’s way to it’s favourite hiding place- A sturdy tree nearby. The branches were robust enough to handle the weight of the alien (Around three quarters of a ton) and high enough for the alien to stay out of view of the angry mobs. It climbed the tree and there it stayed for the next three hours, until it was time to go to work again. ‘Only one hundred and ninety eight years left.’ The alien gave itself a pep talk, as it slid down the trunk. ‘Piece of piss.’
The alien landed on the soft mulch at the base of the tree.
‘Get ta fuck, ya tree lovin alien monkey spaz!’
The Krotonian waved at the screaming loon, who promptly ran away.
The alien set off to the factory. It would be early for work today but as they always say on Kroton 14- Better to be a day early than a second late. Not that time was a thing on Kroton 14. All demonstratives of Krotonian time throughout this short story have been created solely for ease of reader understanding.
Trump’s New Tariffs: Can You Afford To Buy From China?
My landlord hasn’t picked up rent for almost 1 year. He doesn’t answer the phone or text. What could happen?
A similar thing happened to me.
Some 30 years ago, my rent cheques stopped being cashed. Six months later, I get notice that I’m sued at the rental board for not posting rent.
I show up there, and here this pompous self-important guy with a huge briefcase full of envelopes that he lines up on the table in front of me and he sorts them.
We are waiting for the judge.
Eventually the judge shows up, and it’s the pompous guy’s turn to speak:
—You owe 6 months of rent to Stoop Building Management Inc.
—Er, wait. My lease says “Joe Blow”.
The judge comes in:
—Can you explain this, says the judge to Pompous?
—The building was foreclosed. (Up here, when a house is foreclosed, the leases are transferred to the new landlord as is).
—Have you notified him?
—Er… He shuffles through his envelopes for a bit. No.
—Well, you have no case. Case dismissed!
And since they failed to notify me, they have no case to get back rent (for 1 month probably, but never for 6).
And that’s how I got six months rent free.
I had kept the money so I went 3 months in Europe.
Two days later, a bailiff shows up with an official notice of lease transfer…
But wait! That’s not all!
Some months later, they are selling the house. They put the “For Sale” sign on my stair (in Montréal, upper floor tenants have separate stairs – Google for Montreal stairs; my house has two stairs). Then an evil idea comes in my mind…
At work, we have samples of “Crack n Peel” paper, which stick anywhere after peeling the back. Better yet, they were florescent orange. So I print several “Sold!” stickers that look like the real deal and I stick one on the sign. It takes them 6 weeks to notice and remove it.
I wait 2–3 weeks and I stick another one.
I never got caught because I always did it in the dead of night…
It took them almost a year to sell the building. The new landlord was cool. And he still owns the place 30 years later.
Is it true that the Chinese lunar calendar was actually invented by the Vietnamese?
A simple fact and I think the Vietnamese will admit: Ancient China had the lunar calendar since the Xia Dynasty (2070–1600 BCE), thousands of years before Vietnam even existed as a coherent state. Vietnamese culture was HEAVILY influenced by China due to over 1,000 years of Chinese rule (111 BCE–938 CE). Their traditional calendar is literally a copy-paste of the Chinese one, tweaked for local crops and festivals. Saying Vietnamese invented it is like claiming Italy invented pizza… after eating it in New York. Check historical records—zero evidence Vietnam created it. Next you’ll say Confucius was Vietnamese?
Easy Beef Hash

Yield: 4 servings
Ingredients
- 2 to 3 cups cooked beef, cut-up
- 2 (10 ounce) packages frozen hash brown potatoes, thawed
- 1 onion, finely chopped
- 1/4 cup butter, melted
- 1 cup gravy or beef broth salt and pepper
Instructions
- Place all ingredients in slow cooker; cover and cook on LOW for 6 to 8 hours or on HIGH for 2 to 3 hours.
of course no !
He’s a show runner. he’s never wrong.
Posted by: W | Apr 3 2025 9:01 utc | 1