Man, they really do it in the road at their West Gomorrah location. Let’s just look at the extras on this fabulous car! Wire-wheel spoke fenders, two-way sneeze-through wind vent, star-studded mudguards, sponge-coated edible steering column, chrome fender dents, and factory air-conditioned air from our fully factory-equipped air-conditioned factory. It’s a beautiful car, friend, with doors to match! Birch’s Blacklist says this automobile was stolen, but for you, friends, the complete price, only two-ninety-five hundred dollars, in easy monthly payments of twenty-five dollars a week, twice a week, and never on Sundays. …
Looks like I was ahead of the curve for a change when I flew the coop back in 2017. Someone should tell Elon to quit shitting in his birdcage and go to Mars already.
My final tweet, from New Year’s Eve 2017. Didn’t cost me shit.
OK, pop quiz. if you had $44 billion lying around doing not very much you would:
Feed the hungry.
House the homeless.
Buy Twitter.
I guess I get it, kinda, sorta. I mean, I like toys. I just bought a canister stove for my occasional camping adventures; MSR said they didn’t have the bits to modernize my Bronze Age RapidFire, then offered me 30 percent off on a new burner. So, ’ray for MSR and for me.
But Twitter? Maybe Elon has the bits to fix that hot mess, and maybe he doesn’t. He can certainly throw bales of cash at it until he tears a rotator cuff or finds some other shiny object to money-whip until boredom sets in once again.
“The better news is, it was an electric vehicle that killed you.”
On the way home from the grocery yesterday I managed to avoid three crashes with Burqueños who were either DWI, DUI, or HUA (Head Up Ass).
Stopping for a red light at Comanche and Tramway, a popular spot for the high-speed not stopping for red lights, I took note of the detritus from a recent collision scattered across the intersection.
And later, at home, hearing the wail of sirens and the whock-whock-whock of helicopters, I wondered idly who else had just made an unscheduled stop for a shit sammich.
Turns out a two-car crash at the next intersection up Tramway — the worst one, for my money — sent six people to the hospital, where four were listed in critical condition.
The New York Times notes that Elon Musk and his elves at Tesla “did not respond to several emails asking about the new video games and whether they could jeopardize safety.”
Imagine my surprise. No wonder Elon is in such a rush to get to Mars. He thinks it ain’t safe here on Earth, and he’s right.
We should pry Captain Video out of his Starship and drop him into a 1971 Ford Pinto, make him cruise around Albuquerque until he learns how to answer his emails. At a dead stop, of course.
• In other news, from our You’ve Got to be Fucking Shitting Me Department, we have the “Smart-Cockpit,” a bicycle handlebar with a touchscreen featuring Apple’s CarPlay and Android Auto. Is it April 1? Did I sleep through winter?
The haze looped around to the north, softening the sharp lines of the Sandias.
Yesterday being Earth Day, I decided to cover a few miles of it on foot.
Walking the Candelaria Bench Loop in counterclockwise fashion I saw a couple dozen deer working it in the opposite direction. Looks like maybe they’ve been visiting the folks whose backyards abut the open space along Camino de la Sierra. Before much longer they will be paying a call on us down here in the cheap seats.
Looking southwest toward the city.
From up on the bench I noticed a haze coating the Rio. This was either courtesy of a pair of small fires down along the bosque or the ozone we seem to be having too much of lately.
We are very poor tenants indeed. No wonder the landlord is taking measures to have us evicted. Gaia being indifferent as regards race, creed, color, or religion, she dispatches plagues instead of the sheriff.
Speaking of plagues, Herself and I are due for our booster shots this weekend. If you should happen to see any posts here that look something like “Ph’nglui mglw’nafh Cthulhu R’lyeh wgah’nagl fhtagn,” with illustrations of flailing tentacles rending squealing humans into party snacks, never fear … it’s just the nanoparticles kicking in.
Elsewhere, the Elon Musk Bus Lines have resumed delivering passengers to the International Space Station. I wonder what the carbon footprint is like for that action. Probably not as bad as rush hour at the Big Eye.
No word on when the routes to Luna and Mars will be open for business. Not until the Shackleton Crater Resort & Casino is up and running, is my guess. This may take a while. The moon is remarkably short of undocumented workers to help keep the hospitality costs down.
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