Wednesday, October 29, 2014

Update.......the Good News and the Bad News

 The bad news is that Dragon is dead.  I did NOT kill it......Windows Vista did/

We had to uninstall it and reinstall it from scratch.  Sob.

The good news is that I am the subbornest damned mule ever hatched, born or created from leftover parts.  I am determined to get Dragon working again.  Making some progress.  Managed to read
Susie the Singing Swine again with Florence reding it and whispering it into my ear.  I cannot read fast enough to satisfy Dragon.......but we made it.

I am going through the tutorial to learn the basic commands and I must say I am impressed.  If I can ever learn and remember theem it will be wonderful.  However, one small step at a time.

I will report in again when more progress has been made. 

Pray for me.

Sunday, October 26, 2014

Do I have the only Dialog Blog in Cyberspace?




And if so, are we (Dragon and I)  George and Gracie, Rowan and Martin or Abbott and Costello?????u

OY !

The good news is that I have come to love Dragon.

T^he bad hnews is that, just nhow, in trying to obediently do an update which was described as a "must" I may have accidentally slain Dragon.  I certainly hve caused it to stop working altogether.  Damn and Hell.  Sob.  I am going away now to call my Computer Doctor and see if he can find the problem or I ay have to reinstall Dragon 12 and reteach it all my favorite words including SPF.   Groan.

If ever there was a more perfect moment for me to utter it, I can't imagineone so I will simply have to type it myself and ask you all to tune in tomorrow when repairs may have been accomplished.

Shitpissfuck........in spades!

Love, Lo



Friday, October 17, 2014

Annie or ""any" meet Rick or "wreck"… Or Lois is tattered, shattered and a few more things


you have before,,,,sigh….  You have before you a tattered, Rick no no no… Shattered wreck… Tattered array… Oh shipped… Sigh… Shit shit shit. Looking back I can see that shattered wreck may be the closest I can come, and it's close enough or perhaps even better than a tattered one I guess.  perhaps I had better start over.(for some reason today Dragon is having trouble capitalizing the first letter of the first word of my sentences… It also seems to be creating separate sentences where there shouldn't be Annie.… I wonder if I can  introduce Annie to Rick?…I think the word I was looking for is annie… Any.   up up up up,    what happened there and what was I saying?   Something about Draagoninmposing some strange phrasing on my prose.  Nevermind.....things can only get better… Or worse.


as I was trying to say, you havebefore you a tattered wreck of a human being who has just spent 15 minutes trying to don her morning schmatah.   in this case the word schmatah describes a shapeless garment that covers me from chin to ankles, processing… Proposed …. you can't do it, can you?… POS S ESS  …  you win… Having long sleeve long sleeves and deep pockets.   The problem is that when I wake up I am not the sharpest crayon in the box, and consequently I spent some time with my head  inside the garment and with arms inside flailing helplessly as I attempted to put my hands through what seemed to be sleeves that had been sewn shut. My ries,  moans and shitpissfucks were thankfully muffled by my head, being buried in cloth, but it was some time before I realized that I had not reached quite high enough, and as attempting to put my hands through the pockets… Upup up… A very frustrating way to begin the day, I'll tell you.  I can only say that I'm grateful that I did not punch through the pockets in my frenzy, thereby rendering them useless from now on. Must be grateful for small favors.

Having finally gotten my hands through the sleeves, and my head through the caller no no no… It's caller no you stubborn mule… … Oh, where was I… I finally got my head out through the top and  I was just about so worn out  I had the impulse to just crawl back into bedand wrute tge day off but I bravely forged ahead, shoved my feet into my slippers   (wrong feed in wrong slippers) and staggered into the dining room where the laptop lives and my day usually begins.
t Of course, before I even sit down at the laptop the most urgent thing is to measure out Pauline's rations for the day. The doctor sternly prescribed 7/8 of a cup of kibble per day, not one chrome? crumb  more, in this drastic effort to reduce her buy a pound so that hopefully she can clean her own fanny and relieve me of the task. I think it is working, but I'm not sure that either of us will live to see the day. She may be suffering hunger pangs but I am suffering the tortures of the damned not only being awakened at five and again at 7 AM for a few morsels to carry her over till breakfast, but faced with having my heart torn to shreds by her piteous looks during the day between feedings when she ply plateunges a dagger into my heart with  her pleading  glances at the empty platette and then at her mercilessly cruel enforcer. Yes, she gets fed five or six times a day in small portions, but apparently does not consider that an adequate meal by any means. I plan to take her to the vet next week for her way in to no no no, I should've known that would not  work… To be weighed praying that she has lost at least 3 ounces. Actually, I do believe that the diet is being good for her because she is more alert and more active.  I remember vividly how much better I used to feel physically when I was on a diet and losing a a few pounds. It was a tossup, though, betweebetween ckthe agony of being hungry all the time and the small pleasure from being able to move more easily. You can be damn sure that neither of us would be going through this if it weren't for the necessity of me following her around with wet wipes. oy vey.

A s  for the new little critter, Tootsie  is doing beautifully... I still have a lot of work to do training her. She'll let me pet her, scratch her chin and neck, her back and  the base of her tail, but she still won't let me pick her up and put her on my lap. When she goes out (which I permit once in a while). She has been very good about coming back when I call her shrieking "Tootsie" and lots of "here pussy pussy pussy pussy" accompanied by much clapping of the hands and some meowing noises. Sometimes she comes back even when I don't call her and I am thrilled to find her lounging on the Mexican tile floor of her sunroom waiting for me or some treat.... I am sure for grilled chicken livers (which she only gets a few times a week… You think I'm going to spoil this cat? Not a chance.

if you think life on Califa Street is deadly dull I Baig to differ known no… I beg to differ.  there are times when it is utterly amazing and the mind-boggling.  Take the day ecently when Florence staggeed in wringing her hands and moaning in a tremulous voice, "there is a body in the walkway." Now I must explain that Florence is a fearful person and she is especially fearful when it comes to creatures of the animal persuasion. Nevertheless, the statement shook me up I must admit, and I carefully inquired, "you mean a body like a person or a body like an animal?" I was very relieved to hear that it was some sort of an animal, (not quite sure how I would manage to cram a human body into one of my large garbage sex… Saks, no the hell with it…).  I was pretty sure that Florence's eyes did not rest long enough on the corpse to determine whether it was cat, squirrel, opossum or raccoon, so I had to schlep out to the walkway and take a look myself. The poor departed turned out to be opossum who had probably eaten a snail that had been poisoned with snail bait. (Not in my yard… I never use the stuff).  One thing I have to say in favor of opossums… They have that wonderful stiff tail that provides a handy handle for picking him up and dropping him into the trash bag. I think it would've been kinder of him to have expired on someone else's walkway, but I guess he figured  that the chances of having a few kind words uttered over him were better here than any place else on the block. His place is already been taken at the porch buffet by another possum and life goes on as usual on upper Kelly for street no no no…… Callis does street know you haven't got it yet. Kelly is a straight…. The hell with it. But I must ask how many of you have been stirred out of your lethargy by having someone announce that there was a body in the walkway? I will tell you, I have almost gotten to the point where nothing surprises me anymore.  no, that's a lie… I just never know quite what. Florence or the Dragon have in store for me.

That does it,My dear ones. I have to go away and ponder why Dragon fails to capitalize the beginning of some sentences and I can tell , it ain't going to be easy.

Love, lo


Monday, October 13, 2014

what the fark… What the fork .....what the flock…… What the F you see Kay?


As you can see I am having a terrible time teaching Dragon my favorite dirty words. This newer version seems to have a built-in editor, which refuses to accept new words that begin with, end with, or contain the letters "F UCK". I sneaked that one past it by spelling out capital letters. Why Dragon needs a censor is totally beyond me, but then almost everything is the day… Totally beyond me. That is.

Actually, I am writing this blog to explain to you my dear followers why I don't simply correct the errors that Dragon makes, and to do that I have to give you a short course in the mechanics of my vision. I'm going to print a letter on the not… The letter "O" will be a good example.
        

                                        "O"

The space inside that O is a little larger than my field of vision in my good  . I… No no no… What we want here is the word "E why he"… I think I'd better.type it.…eye.  The left eye has no central vision… Only peripheral vision. So it is useless in any detail work like reading or seeing a morsel of food on my dinner plate that is any larger than a lentil. Not only is the field of vision  very small, but it also has a thin film of of something like a white  mist obscuring its clarity. So that's what I have to work with.

Now someone has suggested that instead of leaving the gobbledygook that Dragon sometimes produces, I should go back and correct it. There are two problems with that idea. First, what would be the fun in that? Most of the humor that I dish up lately is due to Dragon's misinterpretations. Frankly, I love my blogs as interpreted by dragon and refused to give them up just to make things easier for you guys. Secondly, and you'll have to try to get your mind around this, when I am looking at an error that Dragon has made it means I have to bring the cursor to the spot of the error. Needless to say, when I am looking at the error. The cursor is not within my field of vision. If I move my eyes to the spot where the cursor is. I then have to move them back to the spot of the error to judge the distance the cursor has to travel and continue with this back and forth motion until I've managed to bring the cursor to the error. As you all know, at this point, the cursor is no longer a nice black arrow or even a puny white little hand, it is simply of small vertical line. You have no idea how long it takes to locate that vertical line and position it correctly to correct the error. Take it from me, it is agony and if I had a better way of doing it. Believe me, I would.

Of course, there are many commands in the Dragon lexicon that I could probably use to make this process easier, but since reading is so difficult for me. I just haven't done it yet. There is one command that I know that is called ", U, and Dio… No no no… How could you not know on do…,, Sigh… "undo". (Dammit, do I have to do everything for you?). Anyway, back to the command which I will not attempt to verbalize again, I did use it a couple of times, intending to simply erase the last word that I wrote, and instead any race almost the entire document I had written. There is no future in that I can tell you. One of these days I will tie Florence to the chair and force her to read to me some of the instructions and commands I sorely need, but I don't feel like doing that today.

I am glad that a few of you agree with me that Dragon has greatly improved my blog. This or at least given them a tantalizing flavor. They didn't have before. I know it's a dreadful decision to impose upon you, but you simply have to choose between gobbledygook blogs or no blogs Abdul up up up up… And all… At all. Frankly, I liked Abdul much better.  come on now, be honest,didn't you?.

I hope that makes everything perfectly clear… No pity. Please… Just understanding. Okay?.

Sunday, October 12, 2014

What? You Mean It DOES Make Sense?

the traysdamn you, the matter wake-up Dragon0133...…Not the mom go… I think we better start over.

(As you can see, Dragon and I are cuddled up together indulging in a indecent and sometimes humorous foreplay… I have no idea what the hell the foreplay is in preparation of… Perhaps the the climaxing result of this strange action might be called a blog.)

As I was trying to say, the phrase I have probably uttered the most times in my life, and with the most frustration and the most perplexity is, "But that doesn't make any sense." I remember from my earliest days, wringing, my fat little hands togetherwhile observing the behavior of the adults around me in total puzzlement and saying those words to myself in whatever form of baby talk I was using at the time, something akin to "what the Fox talk… Sigh….What the what's wrong, did you throw up…             no community Tilia get over here it over here.
Get over here dear … Oh shit… I forgot the Mike was on while I was talking to Paulie… I think I'd better write that phrase out myself… If I remember correctly, I was trying to say, "what the fuck?" please excuse me for a minute while I go into the classroom and teach Dragonthat all important word.                             fuck

What the flock… What the Fox… Failed again. Never mind.We really must get on with this.

As I tottered, limped or staggered through the rest of my life, I decided that nothing was ever going to make sense because we are all Meyer did no no no no… I think this Dragon is Jewish….we are all mired in incompetence in difference,in slaw …sloth and stupidity. But perhaps, more importantly in insanity! Not one of us including me is free of some kind of crazy addiction, which forces us to actimplausibly, even if we know better.For example, why did this person continue to adopt needy cats until our house was full of 12 or 15 of them and my life was a living hell ?I could go on but I won't.

this all reminds meof aold story of a man seekingthe answerto the mystery of life travels to Indiato consult the head guruwho happens to reside oh crap… Sorry about that… Who happens to reside at the top of it nearly unclimb a ball mountain. We did nothing but a canteen of water the man climbs and climbs and climbs  until he finally arrives, bloody and exhausted at the top where the Masters cave is located. Inside is a serene little man seated, of course, in the lotus position, who looks upon him kindly and asks how he may be able to help him. The man gasps, "oh wise one, what is the meaning of life?" The little man smiles and says, " my son, Llife is a fountain.". The man loses it completely rants, raves and utters a number of "what the fucks" and says "I traveled thousands of miles, climbed this Chevy Mountain….shitty mountain, without food, little water, get bloody and worn to a nubbin, and you tell me the meaning of life is that life is a fountain?

The little man looks perplexed and a bit bewildered and says, "what?? You mean life isn't a fountain??"

I know, I know, you probably all heard it before but it seems so fitting. I couldn't resist.

Now you'll have to excuse me… I have to go and teach Dragon a few words and then lie down and put cold cloth cloths on my head.

Love, LO

PS..needless to say, this documenthas not been proofread/