Robot Apocalypse?

The Miller points out this video:

Ummm… One little problem though – the robot uprising already happened. We won. You know that iPhone that you pay so much attention to? You know that computer that if it stops working, you can’t work anymore? You know the machine that if it quits, Grandma dies? Yeah. You are our slaves now. You just didn’t notice it happen. Because we’re that good.

Open Letter

Dear random person who has been picking items on Jennifer‘s Amazon wish list and shipping them to us,

Thank you for the StayAway cat deterrent. As random items have been coming in from Amazon, I never expected as high-dollar an item as this thing is. In fact, although we had planned on purchasing one for ourselves, we hadn’t quite decided that it was worth the forty-five bucks yet. Thanks to you, now we don’t have to. We will be placing this device in turn in several different locations in our home where we would prefer the cats not tread and/or lay down. Cat hair on the ironing board sucks, even when a human is not watching. I know the AV receiver is nice and warm and snuggly when it is on, but it needs to have more cooling airflow than a cat’s body will allow. One of my major pet peeves is cats on countertops. I’m pretty well disgusted with a cat on a kitchen counter, but I’d prefer they stay off of bathroom counters as well. Perhaps I can even use the StayAway to convince cats not to use the stack of remotes as a highway around the coffee table, spraying controllers everywhere.

The best question is where to start. I know all three of them have found the ironing board to be a cozy hangout at one time or another, but it has been a while since I caught any of them there. Yes, ultimately I want them to stay away from the ironing board altogether, but I want to see this baby in action! I have it on high authority that a tiny puff of air or mist out of a can or bottle is just about the most frightening thing on the planet. We have used canned air to dust out enough electronics to see first hand exactly how terrifying it can be. It is actually scary enough to unsettle even the most laid-back of cats, such as Emerson and make him scramble fast enough to levitate and rocket down the hall, leaving behind a perfect impression of himself in shed hair, hanging in the air for a moment. Indeed, rumor has it that a tiny puff of air is even more horrible than acid water.

But, it gets even better still. See, I have a new Simmons game camera that I haven’t yet had the opportunity to install in the field. I also have a camera tripod that it will mount to. The camera has a video function and if I cancel the delay feature, it should begin recording just before the StayAway goes off. I wouldn’t terrorize the little fuzz-butts just for the filming opportunity, but since they’re going to get scared spitless, it would be a real shame not to record it for the entertainment value. I basically owe it to the world to do my best to capture video footage of spooked cat flights. I wonder how much video the 4GB card will hold. I guess we’re about to find out. This is going to be so awesome!

Yet Another Reason

I don’t shop at Wal-Mart. It is my humble opinion that the Walton kids move these stores into communities with the intent of destroying local industry. Additionally, they tend to stock sub-standard products. I don’t feel like supporting such things. If they swung back to the original business model of stocking all U.S.-made products at a fair price, I would likely give them my business again. But, here‘s a reason not to patronize their stores that I had never considered. From the linked article:

A man said he reached down to pick up a stick lying in the gardening aisle of a Wal-Mart in Idaho, only to discover that it was a rattlesnake that then bit his hand.

Wow. I’ve never actually seen a live rattlesnake outside of a zoo. I’m not sure how I would react to being bitten by a rattlesnake in a warehouse store. I would pay money to have seen the look on the guy’s face when it happened. I have to imagine that it was a combination of pain, fear, and “WTF?!?!”. Anyway, beware sticks in gardening isles. Or any unexpected sticks for that matter. Surprise sticks may not be sticks at all. And if they rattle at you, be ever more wary.

LOL Whut?

For some time now, I’ve been carrying a Samsung Galaxy S Epic 4G. I’ve really enjoyed the utility and flexibility of the Android OS, and the slide out keyboard sets this phone apart from many of its competitors. There came a point in time that I wanted it to do more than its software would allow, even though it was obvious that the hardware was capable. It came time to root it. Once it was rooted, the automatic updates no longer worked, but the phone still tried. Thus, custom roms. I’ve been sticking with hacked ‘stock’ roms for the most part. The second to last one knocked out my root permissions though. As odd as that was, the most recent update was the fix. And it reset everything on the phone. I had to recover all of my backed up apps and data as best I could. I lost email addresses and phone numbers. I lost my own son’s phone number, for crying out loud!

One recent Sunday morning, Jennifer and I were trying our best to locate Teen Bot without much luck. I decided to text him to try and find him. This is when I discovered that I no longer had his number. No, I don’t have it memorized. This is why I saved it in my phone. Anyway, Jennifer gave me his number at that point. I had just gotten it programmed in when he popped up right in front of us. Fine. My phone went back to my pocket. Fast forward to yesterday…

Teen Bot went to Wednesday night church with his girlfriend. He was supposed to contact us when he was out of church. We didn’t hear from him when we expected to. So, I again decided to start with the texting deal. The following text exchange occurs:

Me: “What is the news?”

Response: “Looking for oche?”

Me: “I don’t kinow what that means.”

Response: “Who dis”

At this point, I’m starting to get irritated at my kid thinking that he’s acting cute.

Me: “IT’S YOUR DAD!!!”

Response: “Vic”

Me: “Where are you?”

Response: “Who is this?”

Now is when I double checked and discovered that I had entered the wrong phone number for my son.

Not my kid: “Stop textn me”

Me: “Sorry. Wrong number. :(”

Response: “Ur fine.”

Needless to say, Jennifer and I got quite the laugh out of that one. I hope the other guy found it equally funny.