The Great Goddess Algorithmia™ (@ The Celtic Chameleon) has been behaving a little erratically, of late. In Her desire to be completely contrary to my wishes and desires and grate on my last damn nerve, She has been filling our (mine and Urchling’s) feed on the TikTok over the past several days with a bunch of aggrieved middle-aged men yammering on incessantly about how they’ve done the work and cleaned up their act and their wives left them anyways. Y’all, it’s been the virtual parade from hell.
I sighed. Urchling sighed. Swipe. Another one. Swipe. Another one. Swipe. Folks, we are two swipes away from Urchling rolling her eyes and finding something else to do. Without me! I was so looking forward to some family snuggle time. Me, the Urchling, and the Hell Hound. Jeez, why has the TikTok convinced itself that ruining my evening was a good solid play? I work for a living, I deserve some low stress down time. I spend a solid hour trying to sort out my algorithm by looking up things we actually are interested in and “less of this” optioning on the incessant yammering. Then, I’ve got class project to do and I’ve got to get ready for work tomorrow, so I hand the joystick over to the Urchling to continue on. She’s an excellent co-pilot, truly top notch. She carries on for at least another hour and then gets bored and goes to draw. We might have seen two…
