Can CCTV cameras be integrated with other sensor technologies for enhanced security solutions? If so, how?

ME: Okay.

MICHAEL: No.

ME: Thanks Michael, you really saved my ass back there. I’m glad you picked up on my hint.

My ex got into a relationship within 2 weeks after a breakup. What should I do?

ME: I cheated off of him on my final exams whilst I was getting my Master’s in 6, down at 7 (Place of Learning)!

MICHAEL: You know what? I’d walk another 8 hours in the desert for you, Rogert.

ME: Holy shit, it’s Jeeves!

500-Million-Year-Old Mystery Fossil Rewrites Early Animal Evolution - SciTechDaily

MICHAEL: Thank you.

A chime heralds the opening of the saloon doors, and two figures there stand. One, a man no taller than 5′11″ with unblemished milky skin that gives way to what will in a few years time be a balding scalp, but which for now stands as a luscious mane of whiskey-tinted hair. A pair of round spectacles frame his emerald eyes, perched upon his angular nose. The creeping five o’clock shadow and a slight sheen of sweat from hours of walking give him the look of a rugged workman that he probably doesn’t deserve, given his line of employment. Slung over his shoulder is a sweater, long since removed under the sun’s heat, revealing a well-ironed navy blue button-up. A nice pair of slacks and some slick brown Oxfords complete a look that’s probably too good for this night out.

JEEVES:

Have you ever forcibly sucked someone’s dick?

ME: I have a few ideas. But that’s enough of that business shit, how are my godkids doin’?

JEEVES: I’m Jeeves.

MICHAEL: Rogert, Rogert. I love your jokes but you can’t go around saying shit like that in public places, they are going to arrest you eventually.

Why do some people tell the girl I like that I don’t like her when I do like her?

JEEVES: The all-new Dyson Hypervac sports a slick ergonomic grip, improved reach, and a powerful 1kW engine that will remove every speck of dirt in your home guaranteed or your money back.

ME: No need to apologize, I fuckin hated them both. Bagel put me in charge of this estate and now I got all this damn paperwork.

The hostess approaches us and brings us to one of those super tall tables with the annoying stools. I wanted a booth instead, but Michael’s too much of a punk-bitch to say no. I wanted a booth.

IBD 50's Hims & Hers Erases Its 19% Acquisition-Tied Sprint - Investor's Business Daily

JEEVES: Rogert Q. Bagel. You-

JEEVES:

ME: Uh no, I was lying about that part to make myself feel better. Uh. One second

How do you get a girl to like you?

MICHAEL: To one thousand posts!

RUTHSKI: It’s been your turn this whole time. Go.

Ruthski furiously stamps out the fire and turns on the fluorescent lights.

The Nintendo Switch 2 is here: all of the launch news - theverge.com

ME (TO RUTHSKI, IN A SHOW OF PROFOUNDLY BAD JUDGMENT): I’m gonna sneak behind the bar and steal one.

MICHAEL: Yeah, we know.

YOU: What a great Quora post! *upvotes*

Demand in the Housing Market Just Got Even Worse, as Supply Piles Up - Wolf Street

JEEVES: Rogert Trichel Bagel. You have wronged me for the last time. Back at 7 (Place of Learning) I let you walk all over me. But I thought, at least you were supporting my venture - my website - my AskJeeves.com, where anyone can ask me anything and receive a 100% accurate and factual response! But as soon as that little mom n’ pop $2 billion internet startup Quorat or whatever entered the scene, you abandoned me.

ME: Purchase pepsi buy soda drink soda until you die Get more soda in you do it now some eggs too but MOSTLY, principally, the pepsi scratch the eggs

ME: I make my best posts when I’m drunk.

Liverpool FC parade crash injured rises to 109 - BBC

ME: I accept!

MICHAEL: Are you on Quora on your phone right now? You need to pay attention, this is important.

An air of tension lies thick in the deserted saloon. The moderator sits on his high stool, worried for his friend. The dishonored answerer waits for the verdict with a cruel smile on his face. The actor reclines in the corner, enjoying the show. The former peanut is obviously trying to find a way to steal a beer from behind the bar. The proprietor gather his thoughts.

Why can't my adopted sister accept she is not part of my family because she isn't related? Why can't she stop calling my parents mum and dad?

ME: I am a lawyer, and I’ve got a plan to take care of it: Kill all the other guys with chainsaws

THE SERVER, NAME UNKNOWN: Uh, what kind?

RUTHSKI: What the fuck? Who lit a fire? That’s not a real fucking hearth you idiots it’s all polystyrene.

Sam Altman biographer Keach Hagey explains why the OpenAI CEO was ‘born for this moment’ - TechCrunch

MICHAEL: Please stop telegraphing all the crimes you commit. Also, stop committing crimes. It makes you look like a bad godparent.

ME: I’m not joking.

MICHAEL: Have you thought about what your one-thousandth post is going to be, Rogert? I’m honestly a little confused as to why we’re celebrating before you’ve actually done it.

How do Greeks identify themselves in terms of civilization? Do they feel more connected to Western or Middle Eastern civilization and why?

ME: Hooray! I won! Bartender, a beer one more, and on the house if you please!

ME, CLEARLY IN EARSHOT OF THE BARTENDER: Michael, can you buy me a beer?

MICHAEL: Yeah, I think they have beer here.

Hi everybody! I have been looking at posts on narcs and narc abuse on here and if has really helped me out a lot. I am currently struggling with my situation and need some advice/support. I met a narc last year, everything seemed to good to be true. Love bombing, always texting calling and taking me on dates. Everything changed when someone warned me about him out in public in front of him and who he is. This caused a conflict with us and the love bombing seized. he would tell me that everything is okay and i can come and talk. He would set a time limit on me and kick me out after that. he would then text me like everything was fine and we hung out again and after that he completely ghosted me for one week. He came back and texted me a week later laughing about the ghosting and acting like nothing had happened. he continued to text me ( not like in the beginning) make plans with me, then on the day of the plans he would just ghost me. One day he would act interested the next silence. i contacted him a month later and he acted like nothing happened. He was on a vacation and sent me a picture of another woman ( someone he allegedly met on the trip) to strike a reaction but i never gave him one. After the trip he came to my place and was extremely rude, accusing me of going on dates with a bunch of men. The next day he accused me of being an alcoholic and that he wanted nothing to do with me but said well maybe we can be "friends" then ghosted me i assumed at this point it was over and i would never hear from him again. He contacted me on the holiday a month later acting like everything was great. We ended up hanging out a month or so later and when we hung out it went well, i thought things were going in the right direction. after we hung out.. silence. I would try to text him and if he replied it would be very short then he just stopped replying. He ghosted me for almost three months. I thought he was done this time and of course he popped up again like nothing happened. At this point i was getting sick of if so i questioned him as to why he dissapeared and always does this. Of course he had some sob story about a injury and family member dying of cancer. I felt pity for him and he gave me an apology.. so i took him back stupidly. things seemed to be going smooth for a couple months, of course until his family member died and his injury got better he never contacted me and was distant. Menawhile, i was there for him during the difficult time for him. He lied to me about the funeral and never wanted to chat. I was chasing him and he would always claim nothing was wrong but when i said i thought he used me when he was down he could not handle it and would always tell me he didnt care and to go away. I would get so upset i would try texting him to work it out he would barelt respond and if he did he would not be nice about it. we did hang out a couple times after that, he would ignore me after. One day i was like hey i think you are seeing someone else, and i was like well ixam seeing someone so no problem if you are he said " buy bye good luck with your new guy stop contacting me" i was devastated and tried to get into contact with him for weeks then i just gave up and accepted it was over. He ended up contacting me a month later acting like everything was fine. He wanted to go out and have drinks i told him i would. He and i both seemed to have a great time. He ends up ignoring me again. I kept texting him trying to figure out what was wrong. He kept saying everything was fine and i said ok can we hang out again? He said maybe i was like why? He just kept saying maybe … our last conversation we had… i said what is wrong ? He said nothing is wrong everything is fine. I asked him why he keeps saying maybe. He said " maybe but i dont want to see you right now" i said why? He saix " im just not feeling it, if i wanted to date i would" i said why did you contact me less then a week ago wanting to go out? He said i didnt.. even though he did. So i said should i just move on or what? He said whatever you want to do. So i said that he was really confusing me and asked him if he had anything more to say before i move on? My messages were turning green so i panicked he blocked me and reacted irrationally. I said " omg did you block me? My messages are not going through. Even texted him on my work phone asking what was up. And called him twice ( please dont judge me i know it is pathetic i never was this type of girl before him) so he replied and said " Ok I'll block you now" then immedietly blocked me. He has never blocked me before since I have met him he will just ghost. Is this ths final discard aka " grand finale? Did i just push him too far? this has upset me so much its hard to even function.

ME: Okay I’m ready

ME: $100

ME: Can you buy me another beer?

Sorry, Trump supporters, but eventually it will have to be asked: Why didn't Trump do as well in his first term as he is doing NOW?

The stars shine down on this 3/5 drinking establishment. The TV screens now display an agonizingly long game of Monopoly between 16 participants, each held there by the promise of the grand prize: The real life Broadway St.

RUTHSKI: Contestants, to your positions.

MICHAEL: Not a problem, buddy. You do have to pay me back, though.

How do I become an intelligent man?

MICHAEL: They’re doing great, Rogert. Cleo’s just got her first tooth, and Junior’s almost walking.

MICHAEL: Can we talk now, please? I know you don’t like speaking while not being recorded.

RUTHSKI: Trichel you clearly have no fucking idea how advertising works. You picked like five different things half of which aren’t even products sold by corporations. War bonds are shit sold by the government and take like ten years to pay out and don’t give sponsorships. Pepsi probably wouldn’t appreciate you saying to drink until you die and I have no idea what that hundred dollars shit was about or why you kept doing that motion with your arms. I have never seen such a poor performance in any competition ever before. You have completely and utterly lost this stupid duel.

OPEN SCENE: It is eleven A.M. The bar, one ‘Pub de la Ocho’, is populated almost exclusively by men who seem far too old to be alive, let alone drinking by themselves at this hour. A painting of a bartender sits behind the bar, apparently doing a good enough job.

MICHAEL: Rogert, are you sure? You’ve somehow managed to down like five beers during the course of this conversation, despite the fact that the server only brought over one bottle.

MICHAEL: Who?

ME: Oh ok, I’m still down. As the challenged, I choose…mmm…..here, and … in six years!

MICHAEL: All right then. Is there anything else you want to say before we leave CCTV range?

JEEVES: Yes.

ME: Woohoo!

MICHAEL: Is that all you have to say? We’ve been walking through the desert for like eight hours because you got kicked out of the last damn bar back home.

ME: Just wait and see, Michael. I’m gonna winner.

ME: You know, I should have advertised an Eraserh-

ME: Can I have another beer?

ME: Buy —→ War Bonds ←— Purchase —→ Pepsi, Perform the stock market ‘short’ operation upon the —→ Silver, Gold, Cadmium, AskJeeves. —-> —-> → $100.

ME: Well yeah. How else are we gonna get back home they don’t have Uber out here

JEEVES: I’m Jeeves.

ME: Shit

ME: Ok.

We showed up and I asked for a Peoria Sidecar. The painting of a bartender was so offended it kicked us out and we had to go find a new bar. We had to go to another city - that was the last bar in my hometown that hadn’t banned me yet.

RUTHSKI: Holy shit shut the fuck up all of you. I’m going to give my judgement now.

RUTHSKI: No, I already said I’m cutting you off.

Ruthski’s Finest is once again bustling, the clientele slightly confused and greatly inconvenienced by the recently concluded spectacle. Ruthski sits in his office, a stiff drink nearly empty on his desk. Jeeves looms near the hearth, more still than the toxic polystyrene ashes, silent as he shall be ever more. Framed by a window just barely in view of the camera which recorded all these events, two figures sit on the curb. Lilies bloom around them, bizarrely implying they are going to die somehow, even though that makes no sense.

MICHAEL: What does a duel of words actually entail?

RUTHSKI: The state requires that I properly officiate any duel that takes place on my premises. That being said I fucking hate all of you excluding of course Mister Downey Junior because this shit is losing me money by the second because I guess you had to settle this on a three-day weekend.

RUTHSKI: Round one. First move, Jeeves.

MICAHEL: You hated Rouge?

ME: (Ignoring Michael’s little question): He got booted from the program because they assumed he cheated off of me, rather than the reverse which actually happened. Also he’s from AskJeeves.com if that wasn’t clear, he looks a lot different than he used to. I guess the camera subtracts 3 feet or whatever.

Five souls remain in the bar: Jeeves, Michael, Me, Ruthski (The guy who owns the bar, in case you forgot since that was namedropped way back in like Act 1), and Robert Downey Jr. Mr Downey Jr. wasn’t part of the proceedings obviously, but he asked to stay very nicely and Jeeves assented, so for the rest of this post assume he’s in the corner.

A look of abject horror is written across the man-mountain’s face.

OPEN SCENE: Dusk is just painting the sky. The bar, one ‘Ruthski’s Finest’, is crowded with mingling couples and a smidgen of lonely singles. An artificial rustic atmosphere is established by a Chekhov’s gun tastefully placed on a mantle above a faux-hearth. Three servers cruise around the room, assisting patrons and pouring beers - which is to say, assisting patrons BY pouring beers.

ME: It’s Trichel now.

RUTHSKI: Okay I’m cutting you off now.

ME: From the beers or the duel?

MICHAEL: This is grotesque. This is truly horrifying.

RUTHSKI: I -

RUTHSKI: No.

ME: I like Quora. I don’t want just to ask questions. I want to answer them.

ME: I really like this beer.

There’s no need to integrate shit - they already capture everything. What, you don’t believe me? You want proof? Me and my buddy Michael went to the bar last night and the cameras totally captured all the craaaaazy shit we got up to. Here, let me spend several hours painstakingly transcribing all the footage that I illegally acquired from the establishment in question.

JEEVES, DISTANTLY:

Michael slams the table and laughs uproariously.

Right next to him is me.

JEEVES:

ME: Hold on, I gotta go steal the footage real quick.

ME: To one thousand more, my actual friend!

JEEVES: Simple. We use the only meaningful metric for an online poster: Ability to shill for big corporations.

ME, NOT REALLY CARING: Ok.

MICHAEL: Aren’t you still working on that degree?

RUTHSKI: Jeeves wins.

ME: I love beer.

ME: 👍❤️❤️

MICHAEL: Seriously, stop saying that.

JEEVES: I don’t want to wait that long. I want to do it now.

ME: Ready, your honor.

MICHAEL: Not sure how you just said that but I appreciate the sentiment. How about you? How are things going with Rouge? The late Thomas Bagel’s estate? Sorry for your loss, by the way.

The real, unpainted wait staff are escorting all the mundane patrons out of the establishment, in keeping with what they have just been informed are traditional duel regulations. Along the walls, tables and chairs are neatly assembled, leaving only a narrow aisle of open space. With the gibbous moon’s light cut off by the thick curtains, the room is now lit only by the real fire in the faux hearth.

Just then, at the eleventh hour, while Jeeves was distracted saying his own name, Michael slides the owner a crisp one hundred dollar bill.

Then Jeeves, quick as lightning, slaps me across the face with one of his leather biker gloves.

RUTHSKI: Round one. Trichel’s move.

MICHAEL: If anything, you seem more sober now than when we walked in.

ME: Yeah sure.

A slight smile cracks Michael’s visage.

JEEVES, WHO RUDELY KEPT TALKING EVEN THOUGH I INTERRUPTED HIM: - of words!

RUTHSKI: Trichel wins. Jeeves, as you have lost a duel of words, you are heretofore permanently silenced.

ME: $100

ME: Hold on I’m doing something

ME (To the server): One beer, please!

JEEVES:

The two sit in a comfortable silence as they wait for their beers to be delivered. Large television screens across the establishment broadcast entirely too many angles of the same low-stakes professional billiards match. The last vestiges of sunlight have just died outside, giving way to the cover of darkness.

MICHAEL: What?

Another beat passes, more awkwardly this time.

JEEVES: I’m Jeeves.

I guzzle some more amber ambrosia from my pint glass.

ME, TO MYSELF: That sponsorship was so boring. I’m sure to win!

[POST COMMENTED UPON BY QUORA MODERATOR MICHAEL. COMMENT: What great night out. Can’t wait for the next one, Rogert.]

MICHAEL: Get him a Trinity Trust, it’s his favorite. A PBR for me please, thanks.

RUTHSKI: Both.

RUTHSKI: Okay you’re banned. Get out.

JEEVES: Ready.

MICHAEL: Oh yeah you’re right, it is one hundred. Good honesty.

ME: Do you think they have beer here? I want a beer.

The two clink their beers together.

MICHAEL: I just finished buying you a beer. You still owe me like 90 bucks.

ME: Bagel’s estate is basically worthless anyway. Turns out that he only owned the topsoil, so he doesn’t have the rights to all the priceless rubies in his vault.

Another chime heralds another figure in the doorway. A 7′10″ beast of a man barely squeezes through the doorway. A pitch-black anchor tattooed on his forehead fails to distract from the big mean face he’s putting on. Inscribed on his leather jacket is what we can only assume is his name and title: JEEVES.

A beat. At this hour, the low din from the bar’s customers is only rarely interrupted by a passing vagabond or vehicle.

THE SERVER, NAME STILL UNKNOWN: Here you go.

ME: That doesn’t make any sense. Change your verdict now

JEEVES: Did you know that they’re not even publicly traded, Rogert? They have no incentive to grow their profits! None whatsoever! I, JEEVES, am fully shareholder accountable! And with the power vested in me by my 7.9% amortized annual returns, I challenge you to a duel -

MICHAEL: That’s a mighty injustice, Rogert. Why haven’t you hired a lawyer to take care of it?

RUTHSKI: Are you done yet?

MICHAEL: Please don’t tell me you’re still doing that - that makes two people you’ve gotten kicked out of that program in this exact manner. I’m still kinda mad about that by the way, but I guess it worked out since I went to an actual college afterwards.

MICHAEL: Don’t, Rogert. Not tonight.

MICHAEL: Yeah, we got that.