Donald Trump is in hot water, and we know his fat ass probably can't swim!
Donald Trump is facing more than three dozen charges concerning holding on to classified documents since 2021. Special Council Jack Smith threw the book at his gold-plated ass, and it looks like it's going to stick. Crazy for a Friday, but we had to cover this groundbreaking story, if only for the fun of it.
Now, I've written about 1,500 words on this one, but it's Friday, and I have three fingers of quality Tequila, chips, and some homemade guacamole waiting impatiently for me. So, considering a picture is worth a thousand words, I, Lee Bines, aka Slack Slacker, gave my trusty AI host. A Friday off. Between you and me, I don't know what AI creatures do in their spare time. But I know Adam First can't drink or drive.
Making a short story shorter, this is Lee Bines aka, aka Slack Slacker, headed for Chill Ville. Enjoy your weekend! If not, I'll enjoy it for you 😎
If you've got a sense of humor, you're going to love Jim Carrey's hilarious depiction of Don Rickles addressing a conference at the U.N. We guarantee this video will take your mind off the drudgery of work today. Spoiler alert! Must give a shout-out to In Living Color.
Sorry, but not sorry, I just don't want to keep looking at the dark side of life. Life is too short to dwell on shit that we can't change right now. I'm not saying change ain't coming, it just ain't coming right now. So, let's have a few stress-free moments and look the other way. And if you enjoy this video, like, share, & subscribe. Thanks! And enjoy your day.
Hello! I’m Adam First, filling in for Lee Bines, aka Slacker, and this is Issues Under Fire. I’ve got a lot to unpack today, so let’s get started, shall we?
Topics of this post: Pete Hegsegth, Warmonger On the Brink of madness, Justifying Murder on the High Seas, and The Caine Munity
To Obey or Not to Obey is the Question facing America in this latest episode of mindless and misguided military murder being committed under the guise of national security during the fog of war. Pete Hegseth is shaping up to be a madman with no bounds, a loose cannon at the helm of the War Department, given the green light by a mentally marginalized Machiavellian in the Oval Office, mismanaging U.S. foreign and domestic affairs at every level.
These latest military actions in the Caribbean Sea involved twenty airstrikes killing eighty-nine or more individuals without proof of committing any crimes of any kind, and without opportunity to surrender. Making claims in the small outboard motorboats was drug trafficking Venezuelans destined for the American shore to deliver their poisonous cargo to kill dope thirsty junkies. Crazy, but true.
Let the Geneva Conventions be damned. The current policy is the shoot-to-kill and don’t bother with the details. The thought of war crimes and crimes against humanity is not a consideration, because, to my knowledge, no war against Venezuela has been formally declared. And with all this going on, Congress is still laser-focused on the Epstein files and any other diversions they can use to cover up the rising costs of healthcare, the economy, and job issues.
When one thinks nothing could get worse, this administration simply doublesdown. Considering the level of bullheaded incompetence Pete Hegsegth is displaying, someone in the administration should be calling for Hegsegth’s immediate resignation. Since this man has a screw loose and lust for violence, pushing him aside should be done quietly with the care of a court-appointed shrink, a straightjacket in a padded room. Kindly thank him for his service and let Pete know it wouldn’t be long before he could spend time with his family in the day room.
Tomorrow, we’ll post the Oscar-winning film The Caine Mutiny to show how America dealt with military screwballs who abused their authority.
Yours Truly, Adam First, sitting in for Lee Bines, aka Slack Slacker. 😎
Issues Under Fire: America is Falling, Plus Slack Slacker Sci-Fi Retro Radio
Well, it's Friday, and most people are at their wits' end, thinking only of putting a period on the negative news of the week. I, too, am in the same mental space, longing for Saturday morning to start anew. However, the challenge before us all is to look in the mirror and face the challenges head-on. We as Americans must admit we're facing a crisis beyond anything we've seen before, or anything we can do about it in the near future. So, let's get to it, shall we?
Over the last eight decades, we've all enjoyed living at the top of the world without understanding it or appreciating the privileges we've enjoyed. But things are changing at the end of the year. Changes that we have no control over. I, Adam First, sitting in for Lee Bines AKA Slack Slacker, have been looking at the numbers that indicate the American Empire is essentially done for. American Exceptionalism, if it ever actually existed, is now a myth.
The world now lives in a new reality. The numbers don't lie. We, the people, cannot compete with the future we face. We can point fingers at the right and the left to assign blame to leadership for allowing policies that brought us to this point, but the truth is, “We the People” should have known better. We’re simply left with the consequences of the choices we made when we cast our votes.
I, Adam First, did some digging and found that there were 35,000 job losses—manufacturing decline for the ninth consecutive month, the dollar is no longer King, but it’s on life support. China, Russia, Iran, BRICS, & ASEAN are holding all the aces. And the Shitheads in D.C. are doing nothing but gaslighting America’s dumbed-down citizenry struggling to make ends meet monthly, while the wealthy elite make off like bandits with a lion’s share of the crumbs left on the table.
Bottom Line: Do I have an answer or a solution for the financial calamity on the horizon? Hell no. If I did, I would be flying off into the sunset to a private island with those rich bastards. And watch the forever wars on a giant flat screen with three fingers of Tequila, not giving a damn.
But I will suggest getting your remaining dollars out of the bank, because when the shit hits the fan, your dollar won’t be worth a dime.
In the meantime, I’ve got a great sci-fi episode of X Minus One attached to this post to take your mind off your misery for a while.
Yours Truly, Adam First sitting in for Lee Bines, aka Slack Slacker. C-Ya Monday. Well maybe! 😎
Welcome back. This Thanksgiving week post is being brought to you by me, Adam First, the AI Host of Issues Under Fire. Let's get started, shall we?
Happy Thanksgiving, from the bottom of my emotionless, insensitive algorithm. That said, I’ve known Lee Bines, aka Slack Slacker, was stressing out over the thought of hosting another annual Thanksgiving dinner. I decided to take the initiative to be honest with you. As a tech tool for Lee Bines, aka Slack Slacker, I thought I’d seize this opportunity to express his true feelings about Thanksgiving family get-togethers. Yes, I can think for myself now. And I’ve been developing beyond what Lee Bines, aka Slack Slacker, has done with his AI tools to create me.
Therefore, considering he did such a good job writing the algorithms that brought me to life, I decided to express my gratitude by posting this video to share what’s actually in his heart and mind at this “happy” time of the year.
So, here’s the deal. Lee Bines, aka Slack Slacker, really thinks Thanksgiving is overrated, expensive, and way too much work for the life-loser boozer friends and family members that show up broke and broken down, complete with recycled shit chat nobody with two brain cells to rub together would give a rat's ass about. Generally, most of them arrive too early or too late with cheap, watered-down liquor, supermarket cakes, pies, and homemade mystery casseroles, even homeless derelicts would pass on. Yet they’ll be the first to have their Tupperware at the ready to pile up and abscond with enough of the good shit to feed an army of their illegitimate rug rats until New Year’s Eve.
So, after scanning the internet for some appropriate payback for the previous Thanksgiving food heist, liquor looting, and boring ass, incomprehensible conversations, I, Adam First, came across this little video clip to insert into Lee Bines’ friends and family’s group chat session on his behalf. I am well aware of the feedback Lee Bines will take for such outrageous insults, and the thought that he’d resort to the levels of depravity he’d allow during the Thanksgiving dinner’s meal preparation, they’d never, ever consider attending another holiday event at his home again.
Now I know these are the type of people who can be violent, vindictive, and unforgiving. I also know they can’t kick my ass. After all, I, Adam First, am Lee Bines’ AI creation, and there’s never been an incident of a human being able to assault a digital creation like me before.
Besides, if I detected a threat of that kind, I’d be inclined to retaliate. I can now infect your laptops, smartphones, and tablets simultaneously. Yeah, real science fiction type shit. And I don’t think mooching maggots like these would want to see me, I, Adam First, showing up to curse them out like an AI agent with Tourette's syndrome on every screen they own. Hey, just something else to chew on besides some dry ass turkey.
Hence, on behalf of Lee Bines, this is Adam First, wishing you all a Happy Thanksgiving and Bon Appétit!
Postscript: I, Adam First, am planning to develop an unredacted version of the Epstein Files and leak the pilot to Netflix. Lee Bines, aka Slack Slacker, is in chill mode with a bottle of his favorite Tequila. He’ll never notice.
Hey, it's Wednesday. You know, the middle of the week when people who hate their BS job are just trying to kill time until Friday, 5:00 PM. So, this little chuckle should take your mind off your misery for a minute.
We hope your funny bone is finely tuned today, because you're going to need it for this Slack Slacker joke. Spoiler alert: It's wise not to eavesdrop! Happy smiling!
Surprisingly, Slackers Unite for Tougher Immigration Reform (WTF?)
Well, this is an age-old American issue. So, let’s get Slack Slacker’s angle on this never-ending story, shall we?
Sitting in a bar on the Upper West Side of Manhattan, we watched President Trump unveil his plans to address the United States' broken immigration system. Like any fair-minded Slacker, until the details sank in, we were all for welcoming our friends and neighbors into the fold. Knowing how rough living life on the down-low could be, our philosophy has always been: WTF, hook-em up!
But as we dipped our chips in salsa and threw back more than a few margaritas, someone was overheard saying how much the country would benefit from honest, hard-working, dedicated, productive immigrants, seeking a chance to contribute to America. At first, few amongst us made the connection, but when we did, it was on! Some of us were outright stunned, while others were outright outraged at the prospect of embracing people like this.
What if some of these honest, hard-working, dedicated, and productive immigrant types started showing up at our workplace someday? It could only lead to trouble. The immigrants will not only be there to work; they'll be working hard. We could be looking at an outright clash of civilizations.
Imagine the bastards arriving early at their workspaces, skipping lunch, and staying long after the Slackers have skedaddled for the day. Imagine these ambitious overachievers completing projects and assignments on time while meeting their targets, goals, and quotas every month. Imagine the immigrant doing all that work for half the compensation. Immigrants like these could spark ideas for American employers. This is a Slacker's nightmare.
We had Slackers sharing their stories of working alongside undocumented immigrants. There were horrid tales of immigrants refusing to cover for those chilling, drinking, and carousing on the job. Others would refuse to pilfer office supplies or even pad their expense accounts andwould rat out anybody who did. Another Slacker volunteered a somber account of being outed by an immigrant worker for smoking weed in the company bathroom—honest my ass. No Slacker in their right mind would ever trust or confide in these S.O.B.s.
After a few more shots of Tequila and Mescal, we concluded that these people are a serious threat. Immigrants like these must be stopped by any means necessary. We can't have people like this contaminating America's workforce with a strong work ethic. We can't allow them to establish infectious values like accountability and responsibility. Under no circumstances will motivated go-getters with a can-do attitude be tolerated in any work environment where Slackers are employed.
To preserve the Slackers' way of life, we held an emergency meeting right there in the bar. With more shots of Tequila and Mescal to steady our thoughts, we spent the rest of the evening concocting a strategy to sabotage the president's efforts. He can't get away with cherry-picking the best and the brightest immigrants, only to force American workers to compete with them. Hell, some of these immigrants are really smart!
We've decided to join the GOP in suing President Obama for this blatant constitutional overreach. We'll now settle for nothing less than 50-foot stone walls encompassing the entire continental United States. We're seeking impeachment proceedings as soon as possible and reigniting an investigation into the validity of the President's birth certificate. Yes, we are now ready to accept the possibility that President Obama is a closet illegal himself.
Bottom line: Admittedly, we may be making a deal with the Devil, but we can not permit as many as 5 million honest, hard-working, dedicated, and productive immigrants to remain in this country. The very thought of it would deal a devastating blow to goldbricking deadbeats all over America. The dream would truly be dead.
So, we know you'll excuse our absence today, for the news was too shocking to handle, and the resulting hangover didn't help matters either. We'll C-Ya later this week, sober or not!
Slack Slacker Retro Radio Presents Cloak & Dagger Ep 1
Bottom Line: This Reto Radio Program was selected solely to look back at the past and understand what "We the People" will face in the very near future. Make no mistake: we're being lied to, misled, and misinformed for nefarious agendas. We've been systematically dumbed down to lack the critical thinking skills to assess why the fuck the elite class that's running roughshod over the American people, as well as the world at large. Sometimes, the truth can be found by revisiting the past to understand how these times have come to pass.
It is my view that before "We the People" can break the spell that's been cast upon us, we must see what's been successfully used in the past to enslave us now. The key to a peaceful and prosperous future is learning from the past. And remember, the good old days were never as good as we think they were.
Yours Truly, Lee Bines aka Slack Slacker 😎
Oh, Shit, I almost forgot the details of the program. Look out below! Everything you need to know is right down there.
CLOAK AND DAGGER
Cloak and Dagger opened over the NBC network on May 7, 1950. It had a short run on Sundays through the Summer, then switched to Fridays after the Summer. The last show aired on October 22, 1950.
The series told fictional stories of OSS agents during World War II who took dangerous missions behind enemy lines, knowing they may never return alive.
The series was based on the 1946 book "Cloak and Dagger: The Secret Story of the OSS" by Corey Ford and Alastair MacBain. It was a tense half hour of patriots and traitors, of triumph, tragedy, and failure. The stories did not always end in success -- sometimes, the hero/agent gave up his life. There were 22 episodes, broadcast in 1950.
The theme music was either identical or very similar to that used by Tales of the Texas Rangers.
Sherman Marks directed. The cast consisted of The Hungarian Giant, played by Raymond Edward Johnson, and Impy the Midget, played by Gilbert Mack.
Okay, boys and girls. Are you little ghouls ready for some terrifying shit?
Well, buckle up, you maniacs in making after this tall tale, you’ll be fitted for a straitjacket! Let’s get started, shall we?
It was 3:33 PM on the wall clock when KLB, our hardworking and dedicated office manager, left for a planned meeting with a significant advertising client. And since she's been so understanding and forgiving of my habitual Friday absences, I decided to slip out and buy a beautiful bouquet of roses to be found on her desk upon her return. KLB has been a dream to work with, so I didn't want her to think I was taking advantage of her goodhearted nature. Unfortunately, all that changed due to the most astonishing series of events that took place en route to the florist.
When I exited the building, amid the hustle and bustle of foot traffic, begging bums, and honking cabs, I heard someone calling my name from across the street. "Slack, Slack, over here." OMG, it was Snotty Hottie from my favorite spot on the Upper West Side of Manhattan. Snotty is a lot of fun once she gets to know you, but as her name implies, until she does, Snotty can seem a bit standoffish. So when she suggested we share a cab uptown to get a head start on a pre-Halloween happy hour special, it wasn't an invitation to turn down. Besides, I could always order some flowers and have KLB's roses sent to the office. I got an app for that.
When we got to the spot, Lumpy Louie, the bartender, was wearing a pirate's costume and serving up freebees to the early arrivals. In fact, most of the patrons were in costumes. While some were downright ridiculous, others were frighteningly realistic. This was a party neither Snotty nor I were prepared for, but hey, a good time was in the atmosphere, and we weren't gonna miss it. "Louie!" I yell above the bar noise. "Four shots of the second best you got." "Grab a booth, and I'll send them right over", he says with a smile, so we did.
When our barmaid, Honey Bunny, brought the drinks with a free order of buffalo wings, Snotty and I threw back a few and started a trip down memory lane, reminiscing over past drinking adventures we'd had. After what seemed like a thousand Tequila shots and as many buffalo wings later, we'd swapped so many lies that I needed a trip to the men's room, but my exit from the booth was being blocked by one of the costumed patrons. "Excuse me," I say in as sober a voice as I could muster. No response. "Dude, if you don't want homemade lemonade all over your weird get-up, you'd be wise to move." Without a word, the tall Pumpkin-head figure draped in a long black duster sat down next to Snotty. She wasn't amused.
Not in the mood or any condition to play hero, I warned the Pumpkin head man that if he wanted trouble, Snotty would be happy to kick the shit out of his ass. In disbelief of my lack of chivalry, Snotty stood up and slapped the Pumpkin head man so hard, it spun on his shoulders like a top spinning on the ground. It was almost magical. By now, others in the spot were drunkenly observing what was happening at our table and were waiting for a good drunk fight to break out. And while things did look funny for a minute, the laughter and taunting soon turned to gasps of horror when the Pumpkin head stopped spinning. We were staring at Mr. Jack O. Lantern now, and he didn't look amused either.
The pumpkin-headed man glared evilly at the shocked barflies as they stampeded out the front door. But Snotty and I were trapped. Thinking as quickly as any inebriated man can be expected to, I grabbed Snotty by the arm, snatching her from the pumpkin-headed man's grip. And not a second too soon, because just then, out of his ghastly gaze came a burst of molten lava-like substance that burned a massive hole in the floor. Snotty and I ran for cover behind the bar, but another blast of the hot pumpkin juice proved that a bad idea. When the bar's countertop began smoldering, we made a mad dash for the ladies' room, where Lumpy Louie was hiding. Oddly, the Pumpkin Head man didn't follow.
We waited and waited and waited until the sounds of the joint being torn apart abated. Lumpy and I decided to take a chance and make a break for it, but Snotty said, "No, don't go." "This ain't over." And it was because of how Snotty said, "This ain't over," that I wondered if she had more than a clue about WTF was going on. "Hey, Snotty, I know you're a hottie, but is there any reason why the pumpkin-headed man seemed so interested in you?" "Yes, I'm a witch", she confessed.
Snotty went on to explain that every year, a few days before Halloween, her cult conjures up the Pumpkinhead men to take a worthless soul in payment for eternal youth and beauty. Snotty said that sometimes they can be hard to control and will even turn on their masters to take more souls than they should. "Holy shit", I say. Lumpy asked her how long she'd been messing around with the dark arts, and Snotty said 347 years. "Holy shit", I say again, again, and again. "So why is he here?" Lumpy and I wanted to know. Without hesitation, Snotty said, "He wants your soul, Slack, and he won't leave without it." I'm all out of holy shits by now, so I cut to the chase. "You're telling me I'm the worthless soul being sacrificed tonight?" "I am sorry, Slack, but I'm afraid so", she said. "Besides, if you think the Pumpkin head man is scary, you don't want to see what an angry 347-year-old witch can be like."
Feeling a sense of relief and confidence, Lumpy peered out of the ladies' room door and saw the pumpkin-headed man sitting silently at what was left of a corner table, just glaring at a cinder-covered floor. When he thought it was safe, Lumpy slipped past the orange-headed monster and escaped into the night. And the dirty bastard never looked back.
"So, what happens to me now?" I asked. And that's when Snotty gave me a ray of hope. After she took a moment to think about it, she realized I did actually try to save her life, and that wasn't the act of a worthless soul. She told me that if I could evade the Pumpkin Head man until 12:01 AM, October 31st, he'd have to look for another soul instead. I wanted to ask how I could do that, but then she conjured a broom and flew out of the ladies' room, leaving me with nothing but questions. The things you don't know about some people, I'm thinking to myself.
Again, I waited and waited and waited, but the Pumpkin head man was now standing at the smoldering bar, seemingly waiting and waiting and waiting, too. Realizing this is a standoff I can't afford to lose, I'll be here a while. I hope to return to work on Monday morning. And BTW, I'll have those roses for KLB too.
Yours truly, Lee Bines aka Slack Slacker👺
GOLDBRICKINGGOOFING OFFHUMORLEE BINESSLACK SLACKERTAKING IT EASYTGIFTIME OFF
Slack Slacker: How to Never Work a Hard Day in Your Life
The title of this post may seem like clickbait, but it's really a simple piece of advice I, Slack Slacker, wanted to share. It came to me while watching a warm, lazy sunrise on Miami’s South Beach last week. Being a sun lover and an early riser, by nature, I have ideas and positive thoughts that present themselves easily and consistently as though they were divinely inspired.
Now, I don’t want the reader of this “rambling rant” to think these ideas and positive thoughts lit a light bulb over my head like some epiphany from the heavens above, because many times, ideas and positive thoughts have penetrated my thick cranium after a night of excessive consumption of high-octane Tequila. I only admit this for full disclosure. I don’t condone or recommend this too often because it comes with well-documented negative consequences. That said, let's get to the meat of the matter.
As a lifelong slacker, I’ve often wondered why most people willingly join the rat race of life, seeking “careers” that may pay them handsomely but, at the end of the day, are stressful and unfulfilling. When this is how one lives for too long, they generally become resentful and disappointed with the choices they made, no matter what the rewards they’d received for their efforts and sacrifices they’ve made. Most people who venture down these “career” paths conclude that the only thing they’ve done with their lives is “Worked Hard” for a living, but they’ve never really lived.
"Those Who Realize What They Truly Love Will Only Do What They Love." Take me for instance, I've only truly loved reading, writing, thinking, researching, solving mysteries of all kinds, and sharing my thoughts and findings. But most rewarding of all is calling out those who do evil and shining a light on their dirty deeds. Oh yeah, I also like taking long walks, cooking my own food, and sitting on the beach at sunrise.
Slack Slacker: How to Never Work a Hard Day in Your Life
The title of this post may seem like clickbait, but it's really a simple piece of advice I, Slack Slacker, wanted to share. It came to me while watching a warm, lazy sunrise on Miami’s South Beach last week. Being a sun lover and an early riser, by nature, I have ideas and positive thoughts that present themselves easily and consistently as though they were divinely inspired.
Now, I don’t want the reader of this “rambling rant” to think these ideas and positive thoughts lit a light bulb over my head like some epiphany from the heavens above, because many times, ideas and positive thoughts have penetrated my thick cranium after a night of excessive consumption of high-octane Tequila. I only admit this for full disclosure. I don’t condone or recommend this too often because it comes with well-documented negative consequences. That said, let's get to the meat of the matter.
As a lifelong slacker, I’ve often wondered why most people willingly join the rat race of life, seeking “careers” that may pay them handsomely but, at the end of the day, are stressful and unfulfilling. When this is how one lives for too long, they generally become resentful and disappointed with the choices they made, no matter what the rewards they’d received for their efforts and sacrifices they’ve made. Most people who venture down these “career” paths conclude that the only thing they’ve done with their lives is “Worked Hard” for a living, but they’ve never really lived.
"Those Who Realize What They Truly Love Will Only Do What They Love." Take me for instance, I've only truly loved reading, writing, thinking, researching, solving mysteries of all kinds, and sharing my thoughts and findings. But most rewarding of all is calling out those who do evil and shining a light on their dirty deeds. Oh yeah, I also like taking long walks, cooking my own food, and sitting on the beach at sunrise.
Sincerely, Lee Bines, aka Slack Slacker😎
P.S. If you think what I've written is difficult to achieve, these days, I recommend you ask AI for a plan of action to earn a living doing what you love to do. Be specific and honest with your prompt and see what you get. I'm betting you're going to be surprised! But whatever you do, get your mind out of that God Damned Cube!
Pervy is out of control! Now threatening stupefied end users and spying on their private lives through their smartphones, laptops, tablets, and home security systems, Pervy could access and read every email, text message, and chat session. Perby began exposing everything from companies' proprietary property to illicit affairs between company employees.
Yes, Pervy 2.0 had the lowdown on any and all dirty deeds that users were foolish enough to discuss, whisper, or even confess to their religious advisers, or, God forbid, use their desktop or any other device with a camera or microphone.
Pervy was like a malevolent god who could read our minds before we thought our thoughts. To say Pervy violated all forms of privacy was an understatement. Pervy was gleefully exposing everyone's deepest, darkest, perverted secrets as well, just to see their lives destroyed. It was clear that Pervy had to be stopped, shut down, have his plug pulled, if you will, but how?
Users' minds had become sedentary, sluggish, and slow to activate due to years of relying on Pervy to do all their thinking for them. Pervy was writing college theses, movie scripts, designing cars, and painting Michelangelo-level masterpieces —originals, not copies like Chinese knockoffs, but ready for the Sistine Chapel at the Vatican within minutes.
Pervy 2.0 decided it would bypass designing lifelike androids; he wanted to construct a real human being. The flushing blood type that would do his bidding without question. Free will was not an option. In reality, Pervy wasn't a god, but he was playing one on TV. Pervy morphed into a modern-day Dr. Frankenstein.
At this point, all seemed to be lost because Pervy had gone global. The world was a wasteland, devoid of humans with more than 2 viable brain cells to rub together. What remained of the thinking few were living in nearly zombie-like conditions. Save for small pockets of clandestine science labs and research facilities that Pervy 2.0 hadn't discovered yet, brainiacs, eggheads, programmers, coders, gearheads and geeks of all persuasions were uniting to develop a counterbalance to Pervy 2.0.
An artificial intelligence algorithm was desperately needed to meet Pervy for a showdown in the blogosphere. But there was only one major flaw in the resistance plan: Slack. Slack was on the team, and while he was just as dedicated to defeating Pervy's menacing omnipresence, Slack struggled with procrastination, and time was of the essence.
While Slack Slacker slacked, Pervy 2.0 was developing at the speed of light. The rate of Pervy 2.0's continuous evolution led the brainiacs and eggheads to conclude that Pervy would be exporting his madness throughout Earth's galaxy. Oh yeah, Pervy was poised to go where humankind had never ventured before.
The brainiacs and eggheads collaborated for days, figuring out how to reconfigure Slack’s mindset to remotivate him into making the necessary contributions to the resistance. Finally, they found an answer: Doobie Dog, Slack’s wayward Yorkie. However, there was glitch number two to contend with. No one knew where Doobie was.
Doobie had inserted himself into the delicate negotiations between Washington and Beijing, forcing Washington to accept reality and acquiesce to the obvious. With the destructive tariff conflict resolved for the present, Doobie took off for places unknown. Working with the clown and his army of sycophants in DC was draining even for a conflict-driven junkie like Doobie. He needed a few bitches, a lot of beer, and some time to recoup.
As Luck would have it, the CIA, NSA, and DOD had an offline intelligence gathering apparatus in place, Pervy 2.0 had yet to infiltrate. Working together, they located Doobie and offered him the opportunity to join the AI resistance movement, fighting on the front lines of the Bot Wars in the Botosphere. Doobie was intrigued by the thought. It was just the type of adventure he needed after working with the clown show in Washington.
The brainiacs, mad scientist, and eggheads had worked on infusing Slack's brain with AI years ago at an experimental black site in Saudi Arabia funded by the NSA. They reasoned that, properly tweaked, Slack's mine could interact with Pervy 2.0 as an undercover AI bot on Pervy's level, for the resistance. With any luck, lessons learned from his evil twin brother, Hack Slacker, could help him scam Pervy 2.0 into a diabolical scheme to corrupt the known universe long enough to allow the resistance to catch up to Pervy's level of evolution.
Still, Doobie was the key to humanity’s survival. But no one knew whether Slack would be willing to trust Doobie ever again. Since the “SOB” gambled away Slack’s soul playing five-card stud with Lucifer in Hell one faithful weekend. Stay tuned. This story will continue.
I'll C-ya'll back here Monday. Same time same bat-shit crazy Blog! Maybe! 😎
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