On Facebook today, a report on a Google AI search on “Lynneguist hospital” that inspired the bot to satisfy the search term by giving Lynne Murphy a medical degree:
[LM:] Adding medical qualifications to my cv.
I mean, here’s the evidence.
Archive for the ‘Parody’ Category
Lynneguist, MD
November 13, 2025
I’m happy that you quilted me
August 25, 2025(Towards the end, some coarse sexual slang referring to fellatio, which some readers will want to avoid)
After years of service on my bed, the delightful images quilt was sent off on Saturday for dry-cleaning and some stitching repair, and I got to contemplate the other three t-shirt quilts, which had been quietly stored away on a closet shelf that was inaccessible to me, but had been brought down to my level as part of the great project of dispossession. I decided that all four (made by friends as a gift to me) would have to move with me — a triumph of sentiment over practicality — and picked the queer quilt, the really in-your-face one, as its replacement on my bed.
Now, more of the story, with pictures.
Now we are 85
August 15, 2025I’m a few weeks away from 85, a landmark 🎶Sir Richard Starkey🎶 reached a month ago, leading to this:
(#1) New Yorker Shouts & Murmurs column “When I’m Ninety-Five” by Bruce Handy and Jay Martel (on-line on 8/11/25; published in the 8/18/25 issue), with 13 updated lyrics
Stair cruising
April 6, 2025[Time to return to the world of raunchy men’s underwear ads; what follows is not for kids or the sexually modest]
I have a verse (which is a play on a familiar comic poem):
(#1) “Stair Cruising”, a lubricious variant of “Antigonish” (“I met a man who wasn’t there”)
There will be photos, of both yesterday’s (receptive) man and today’s (insertive) man, both offering their bodies, in flagrant cruise poses, clothed in sportswear offered by the Daily Jocks company — and displaying their goods on a flight of stairs. Step up and take the challenge!
Streets of Genui Neska
March 25, 2025On Facebook on 3/23, Mike Pope passed along this book cover (from Raspberry Bow Press in 2024):
MP: Someone thought this was a good design for a book title
I had an immediate response:
Slices of pi(e)
March 15, 2025π 🥧 π 🥧 π 🥧 for yesterday (mammoths lumber along majestically, and they are often regrettably late for appointments), 3/14, which was Pi Day in my country, and for some years now, also — delicious pun — Pie Day in many places (so inviting a cascade of formulaic word play: pie in the sky, a piece of the pie, easy as pie, even pie chart)
I’ll jump right into things with a charming and heartfelt Facebook message yesterday from my old friend Paula Stout, who many years ago lived in Palo Alto, but has since moved to the great American Southwest — on a ranch outside Greenville TX, east of Dallas-Fort Worth:
Happy Ecstatic Friday on Pi Day (3.14)
We were in town today, where every store treated the day as a celebration. They were giving away apple pies, chicken pot pies, [pizza pies,] and even eskimo pies. With big smiles, balloons and jubilation.
And it struck me that we are seeing history unfold.
1988 was the first “Pi Day” for a marketing campaign in SF, iirc. Before that, only we geeks and friends of the wonderful Kevin McHargue (who was born on this day) partied it up
And now, here we are. A national holiday of pies!
As David Mamet, renowned playwright, once noted, “We must have a pie. Stress cannot exist in the presence of a pie.”
There’s enough stress brewing in the world, y’all, let us pray he is right and there is pie enough to combat it.
Welcome to the SSA gulag
March 1, 2025(not for kids or the sexually modest)
🐇 🐇 🐇 rabbit rabbit rabbit for St Dafydd’s Day (pleasant), for fucking like bunnies in the spring (joyous), and (stake to the heart) for all of us little animals who will be hunted down and flayed in public by the new government of the country, on this second day of the Soviet States of America, under the thumb of the bitch goddess Putinitsa (née Drumpfitsa) Bonespur and her lieutenant Jed Vacuous; welcome to the gulag
(For Putinitsa’s wedding photo, see my 2/17/25 posting “The gopnik wedding”)
So much for lashing out against the evil queen. For the moment. Now to resume the previously scheduled program for today: to celebrate the new month with lewdness, in the spirit of lubricious rabbits: launch the raunch, that’s the ticket.
The gopnik wedding
February 17, 2025Hollow Man Roboputin, dead at the core, and his grotesque consort Drumpfitsa at their gopnik wedding, in an AI image Hana Filip posted on her Facebook page on 2/15, when she was (as she put it) working on her anger at the performance of Roboputin and Drumpfitsa’s baby (James Donald Bowman) at the Munich Security Conference on 2/14/25:
To come: the gopnik subculture (stereotypically conservative, aggressive, homophobic, nationalist and racist) in Russia and its European surround; the source of this image; hollow men (from T. S. Eliot); and Gopnik as a family name
On the faux-Hopper watch
February 11, 2025… in which I report on a genre of AI art that I hadn’t realized existed. But first, the story of how this genre came to me. I tell this story without any names attached to the people who wrangled with a piece of this art on Facebook yesterday — because all evidence of this discussion has somehow vanished from my Facebook; I did, however, save a copy of the Mystery Painting that triggered the discussion and then was able to reconstruct the gist of the exchanges from memory.
The Mystery Painting. This came to a friend labeled as a reproduction of a painting by Edward Hopper with the title The Dory. My friend was pleased to have come across a Hopper not known to him:
(#1) Atmospherically Hopperesque: a lone female figure in an urban setting (a railway station); also at night, with lights piercing the dark and the rain
Others chimed in to cast cold water on the poster’s delight. One observed that there was indeed a 1929 Hopper painting called The Dory, but it was, no surprise, a painting of a dory (‘a small flat-bottomed rowboat with a high bow and stern, of a kind originally used for fishing in New England’ (NOAD)) — nothing at all like the scene in #1. And then another volunteered that they had searched through an inventory of Hopper paintings and there was nothing like #1 in it. The consensus was that this was some sort of AI creation, masquerading as a Hopper. The disillusioned poster was dismayed.
A moment of raunchy doggerel
January 31, 2025(dirty verse — a raunchy burlesque of some scurrilous doggerel — so not for kids or the sexually modest)
This is what I wrote to cease my weeping at a moment this morning when a number of MSNBC commenters, who were variously black, Jewish, female, and queer, struggled not to break down in hurt, anger, and despair in reporting on Anaranjado Grabpussy’s apparently declaring a ban on federal celebrations of DEI occasions (Black History Month, Pride, etc.). Further inspired by someone ranting, I don’t know why, on Facebook about Dildo as if it were the name of a person, a character in some social drama.