Year: 2024
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Such poise! Such grace! While out for a run around with her doggy pals this Eleventh of Bleptember, our dog takes every opportunity to show off her elegance and style and definitely not just look like a derpy little wazzock.
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A derpy-looking French Bulldog rolls around in a grassy field, her tongue lolling out.
Photo courtesy Lisa from Muddy Paws.
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According to news media: today, a billionaire is being taken into space, where the crew will open the rocket door and put him outside.
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The Polaris Dawn crew (billionaire Jared Isaacman, accompanied by a retired US Air Force pilot and two SpaceX employees) preparing to launch.
This seems like a great start, and I hope that the remaining 1,780+ billionaires left here on earth will be following suit soon.
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Why don't I like pickled onion crisps?
I like pickled onions. And I imagine that the flavourings used in pickled onion crisps are basically the onion flavouring from cheese & onion and the vinegar flavouring from salt & vinegar, both of which are varieties I like.
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AI posts on social media are the chicken nuggets of human interaction
Ruth shares her thoughts on the current state of generative AI, and I had a surprising amount to say about them. But mostly, I just love her metaphor about AI-generated social media posts!
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How is it the Tenth of Bleptember already? This young lady has so-far put off her morning nap and is instead intently watching me to see what I do next with my workday. Maybe it'll involve dog treats! (Spoiler: it probably won't. But you never know...)
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Exaggerated soft-focus photo of a sitting French Bulldog looking up from her basket, her tongue sticking out.
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The biggest problem with “AI” is probably that it’s used as label for two completely different things: 1. Specialized neural networks trained to do highly specific tasks (e.g. cancer screening) which often work reasonably well as a tool to support human experts. 2. Generative AI which thoroughly produces the most mid bullshit. It doesn’t help that neither are intelligent in any way, they’re both statistical pattern matching. - Thomas
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Happy Ninth of Bleptember! Today's picture of our bleppy pupper comes from the rug near the front door. It's certainly not as comfortable as her basket or bed, but it affords an excellent view of the comings-and-goings of the house. She flops down here, like a pancake, when she wants to be able to audit who's in and who's out at any given time (her dorky tongue hanging out all the while).
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French Bulldog, her tongue sticking out, lying on a patterned rug on a wooden floor.
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Rainy Sundays like this Eighth of Bleptember are for bleppy cuddles on the sofa, not for running around outside.
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A French Bulldog, her tongue sticking out and to the side, pokes her head between the knees of a person lying on a sofa in order to receive a scritch behind the ear.
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There's a squirrel over there and it Can't. Be. Trusted. Demmy tries to explain her logic regarding the little furry tree-dwellers on a morning walk this Seventh of Bleptember.
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A French Bulldog, her tongue slightly out, stares into the distance across a grassy field.
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This evening, I'm reduced to re-alcoholising my alcohol-free beer. Unfortunately the cleanest-tasting vodka I have is "only" 40% ABV, so by adding enough of it to bring the beer back to its correct ABV... I'm technically watering-down the beer.
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Pint glass having been filled with a carefully measured mixture of 0%ABV Guinness and vodka, with measuring spoons alongside.
This might be the strangest cocktail I've ever made.
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A wet and grey school run this Sixth of Bleptember isn't enough to take the spirit of adventure out of this dog. But neither will it encourage her to put her tongue away.
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A French Bulldog on a grassy footpath looks out over a field, her tongue sticking out slightly.
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Idea: Meeting Spoofer
Coworkers keep scheduling meetings in periods you've blocked-off for no-meetings, head-down focus time? Maybe you should try scheduling fake meetings in those slots instead and see if they respect those any better! (But perhaps there's a bigger cultural issue you oughta look at instead.)
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Jogging home after the school run has left the little pupper tired out this Fifth of Bleptember. She'll need a long nap to save her energy for some zoomies later.
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An about-to-fall-asleep French Bulldog lying on her side in a ragged fleece basket, her tongue sticking out.
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"We shall blep on the beaches. We shall blep on the landing grounds. We shall blep in the fields and in the streets." A slightly Winston Churchill look from the dog this Fourth of Bleptember.
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A champagne-coloured French Bulldog stands on a patterned throw. She has a chew toy sticking out of the side of her mouth in a manner reminiscient of a cigar, and her tongue hanging out of the other side of her mouth.
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Bravely standing guard during the school run this Third of Bleptember, our little blepster seems surprisingly unfazed by the imminent rainstorm despite the fact that she hates the rain!
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French Bulldog, tongue sticking out, with her lead tied to a wooden stake on green grass littered with the very first of the season's fallen leaves.