Your love is like a choice between questionable tuna salad and questionable egg salad
It's still really cold, so I wasn't expecting much noise. Yet during my early meeting, there was constant banging, like someone double hacking away at ice with a metal shovel. After the meeting the second noise started: either they adopted a woodpecker the size of a rottweiler, or Construction had started. Yes, Construction. Does this mean there will be 6 more weeks til spring? The 3rd noise is like shoveling on the roof with a metal device that stutters. Umm... guys..... some of us have enough trouble concentrating as it is... can't you perform some pneumatic duties out near Idiot Mayor's house?
Looking out the window, I think I found the source: roof work. I know it isn't normal roof work because the noise won't stop (like airplane engines shredding themselves). They can't simply pour some tar on it, no sir. This involves constant hammering. They're probably putting a new roof on, with those small shingles. You know the ones.. the size of a small flower and round. About 3" round. So they have to hammer in each one, across a huge roof. A custom made round shingle for a huge custom roof. Either that or they already glued the whole thing down and are now making horrible, intense, repeated hammering noises to make the owner think he's getting his money's worth.
If I need work done, I'll have them start at 6am, while I'm on vacation. It's the least I can do to pay back my neighbors.
- when watching old movies with mob enforcers, it's important to figure out whether they're a lummox or a galoot.
Today I identify as cheap sunglasses
Today the president was asked, by his own party, to give up his unilateral power to launch nukes. I thought this was the idea.... the nuclear football and all.... president gets it. Of course they wanted to take this away from Trump too.
In response, the president said he doesn't even have the football - he gave it to AOC.
I did it again. I tried to use online commerce.
This is a mistake. But as we know, I don't learn from mistakes. In fact, I insist on making them over and over again. The problem here is attempting to use online commerce of any variety. I can tell you with 100% certainty that I cannot use 100% of online commerce. Any site at all. I couldn't order pretzels without involving the entire IT staff of the pretzel site. I can't order concert tickets, which are generally the worst.
It's not me, at least not me directly. I input all the information correctly. The sites just refuse me. I should feel some kinda way about this, but I only care when it's happening. Today it was registering as a new user. I put in all the info and it told me it couldn't help me - call 1-800-UP YOURS. After 3 calls and one drop, I got somebody who actually knew what she was doing. It got cleared up in short order, or so I thought. I tried to pay for something and the amount they gave me didn't agree with the number I had. Then the site sat and stared at me. I offered the lady my firstborn, even though I didn't have one. The site then bitched because it couldn't recognize my browser. You don't have to recognize it, Einstein - just process its data, like you do with everybody else's. Sometimes it hates linux, but I use the same browsers everybody else does - Firefox and Chrome. Today they wanted to text me a code. The only issue is that my house line doesn't accept texts. They had a lot of trouble with that. They made me call back with a different phone, then didn't know why they did that.
Every. Single. Site.
Every. Single. Time.
With these numbers, as well as my blood pressure numbers, something's afoot. Much like the Toast Treatise, I'm baffled, but will come up with something as I type. I frequently tell Mrs. lefty I need an adult to operate the computer when this happens. Mrs. lefty's nemesis is the phone tree. Whenever she calls customer service about anything, it's 20 minutes to even get to the right place, if she can get there at all. Then the call gets dropped a few times, causing her to have to do it all over again. Not to mention the idiots who man the call centers. We're a quiet bunch, so when the out of control screaming starts, the neighbors know we're trying to pay for something online or on the phone. They can tell by who's screaming. After the screaming, the dog 'helps' us by barking and not stopping.
But the overall issue here... doing the Science, Dr Fauci says most people can do this without any problem. I can't do it at all without a problem, therefore I need to use 2 phones. Or 3. To protect me. Hey- maybe it's the Flying AIDS, affecting my connection! If he tells me my computers have to get shots, there will be a problem. I can't afford $400,000 a year for his great scientific work. Maybe it''s my internet provider. I can't say the name, but it rhymes with Romcast. Maybe they feel I wronged them somehow, so they sabotage all my e-commerce interactions. That's awful personal for the largest in the US. They just put up another custom building downtown. Now all other real estate is forced to make their buildings ugly too. Pretty soon they will all be paying rent to Romcast too, which is in the process of eating downtown Philadelphia. Quite frankly I wouldn't bother: they'll get some serious indigestion. Maybe there's a tiny curly hair on my connection to the switch. It's almost impossible to see, and you have to pull the cable to find it. It only affects e-commerce. I know - it's the letter agencies. Spying wasn't enough.. they're in the business of pushing people who are close to the truth over the edge. They figure that by causing baby-dunking amounts of grief, my blood pressure will go up and I'll have to stay offline. I never thought I was close enough to the truth to get this kind of personal attention. Uh-oh.. maybe that girl who said her father was the head of the NSA wasn't as delusional as she sounded....
Some businesses charge you a fee to pay on the phone. This is beyond belief. So now I'm in charge of setting up accounts and paying online. This is roughly equivalent to putting Cher in charge of heavy metal guitar lessons - it's just not gonna work out right.
Then there's the banking info, if you're paying that way. There are 2 sets of numbers you need to know but we're not going to tell you which ones they are or where to find them, among the 3 sets of numbers on a check. There's a routing number and an account number. There's no way to tell which is which. The evil shortcut is to try both numbers in the box and see which 1 fits. The routing number is the shorter 1. Or the account number. Maybe the check number, I have no idea. You know it's correct when the page stops bitching at you. Note: the page might have stopped bitching at you, but this is in no way an indication that the rest of the transaction is going to go smoothly, or at all. After you get the page to stop bitching, if it says "Bob's Bank," you're good. Unless you don't bank at Bob's.
Make sure you write all this down and SAVE it in your password locker. Often. And repeatedly.
The final number is the payment number, which, as I said, will not agree with the total you have. What to do? Well, you could call Customer Service for the 5th time, or just put your number in and wait til Customer Service calls you. When Customer Service calls you, make sure to tell them the call might be recorded, transfer them to the incorrect extension a few times, then hang up on them. It's only fair.
- Missing fraud suspect Melissa Caddick's foot found on Australia beach
- police think she might be dead
I am surrounded by late people. Not dead people - people who are late. My first boss started out late, then made his way to really late, then finally 'are you kidding' late. We tried all different ways to work around this, like telling the clients to show up an hour late. The boss would out-late us and show up an hour late for the hour late.
Somewhat related, but not related at all, is mealtime at the lefty Mansion. It started to occur to me that we weren't exactly eating together. I'd sit down, finish my meal, and eventually Wife would appear. To the casual observer, she was late to the table. The casual observer would say that if she can't get there on time, she can't eat. Well, that's nice, but she frequently cooks the food, and I can't see her denying herself food. Well, I can, but that's a different topic entirely.
So I applied Science to this. Regardless of who cooked, I noticed there was a ciggie break before food. A-HA, I thought... this is the culprit. As any married man would tell you, I was wrong. So I waited til after the cig. I was told to make my plate, she needed to make hers. So I made my plate, went to the table, waited til the news and the national news were done, and I ate. She showed up eventually.
My most recent great idea was to wait til she had her food and was seated at the table before I went near it. It worked! We ate together. The first night. The 2nd night, she told me to warm my food. I told her to warm hers first. WHY? Because then we'll eat together. I can't. I don't wanna. You just get yours. But the next night I waited anyway. She went out for her cig, I got my food and waited for her to come back before sitting down. She asked why and I figured there was no harm in telling her (hell, I gloated). As I sat down, she disappeared. For another cig.
So much for that brilliant idea.
I was beginning to think there was more to this issue than I thought. I'm very bright this way, only having taken our entire marriage to figure this out. So I'm doing the Science. I'm watching what happens. I'm looking to see what happens in Ciggie Land. Solving the Flying AIDS problem is minor compared to getting both of us to the table at the same time.
I have some of it....
HER: mmm mmmm mm gonna make dinner. Better get a cig first.
[outside] yeah, gotta make dinner. I have so many calls to return. Where's the phone. Oh, texts! No, really? I'm not going to dignify that with a response. Hey, that's pretty funny, I should send it out to all 29 of my closest family. I forget how to... no, I refuse to call her tonight - she rang me all day after I said I was busy. Better answer a few texts while I have the phone in my hand and remember. Where are the damn cigs - I know I brought a few with me.
HIM: have we figured out what we're doing for dinner?
HER: I'm making it.
HIM: if you can make it from out there, you're even more talented than I thought.
HER: I needed a cig.
HIM: yeah, that's what you told me the last time I asked you, 45 minutes ago.
HER: You know what it's like.
HIM: No, I don't smoke.
HER: I had to return texts to my family.
HIM: Good thing mine doesn't like me. So can i help with dinner?
HER: I'll be there in a minute.
HIM shakes head, unwilling to go through that again.
50 minutes later -----------
HIM: can I do anything to help?
HER: help what?
HIM: dinner. You know. The meal after lunch. The 1 we talked about a while ago.
HER: Did we?
HIM: Yeah, you said you were in the process of making it and I noticed the kitchen was undisturbed, as well as free of your presence.
HER: But I needed a cig
HIM: Did you take out the whole pack?
HER: Now you're just being silly.
HIM: So... dinner?
HER: I'm coming.
HIM: Should I call for delivery?
HER: No, I told you, I'm making dinner.
HIM: So bi-location is another of your hidden talents?
HER: I am not Bi.
another 50 minutes -----------------
HER: DINNER!
HIM: Thank you. I'm so hungry I could eat.. a wife. Speaking of which, where are you going?
HER: Need a cig.
I can stand it no longer and follow her outside. She lights up and plunges herself into a world where she's fighting a dragon. That explains why I never see any dragons around the house. After it's dead, somebody's riding a Bobcat, scooping up earth, for a project that's so secret, even SHE doesn't know what it is. The Bobcat is pink and has a Barbie flag attached to the back of it, so all the neighbors see is a moving Barbie flag. And they hear the construction noise.
Then the Monster High dolls are getting dressed and hanging out, talking Girl Stuff. Somebody's repairing the roof. There's an idea for a party, but it disappears as soon as it popped up. The dog is very unhappy with the snow and desperately wants to go inside. She needs to get her wellness check at the vet and I can pick up some treats for her. Damn, they're more expensive than our food. What does my sister want-I really have to visit her this weekend, she does a lot and most people just take her for granted. I could sure use some new bling for the new car. Maybe a Barbie seat cover. It's a shame cars don't have those long whip antennas like they used to - we could put a Barbie flag on it.
I wonder if that new cleaning stuff will do the rugs well. I really haven't shopped for way too long because of this infernal snow, I need so much stuff. CostCo called the other day, asking if I was ok - they haven't seen me in a while. It's good to have that kind of relationship. Which reminds me, I never got to Dunkin to give the girls there their Valentine's Day cards. I have to try that new darker roast. Those brownie batter V-Day donuts were beyond belief, like sex in your hand by yourself.
If I rearrange the room, I can get so much more in it, but I have to get rid of the stuff I haven't used in 20 years. Then I can get some of those special organizers from Bed Bath & Beyond, but I have to go by myself, ever since they requested he not come back, ever. They just don't understand him - he's harmless. He's also very funny, but they have no sense of humor. He's allowed in Walmart, but he won't go to Walmart. That vacuum is giving him fits - maybe I should look at it tonight so he can use it. He doesn't mind vacuuming when the vacuum works, which is about 3 minutes per month, on a good month. Any vacuum. They all die. There was the really highly rated, expensive model that we turned on, it ate a pair of pantyhose, and broke beyond repair that moment.
Huh? What?
HIM: I'm done dinner. Thank you. Where have you been?
HER: I'm sorry. I got distracted.
- Life has been much more pleasant since I told my phone to answer only calls in my address book. Not a single spam call. You may want to try this.
- If you can't do this because you need some non-address book numbers allowed, go to the F-Droid repository and install Yet Another Call Blocker.
I just don't get the ton of Judge shows on tv.
I sure as hell don't watch them, but Mrs. lefty does. Naturally, with tv, there's not an original idea left, so we have a ton of them, differentiated by... by.... umm... the name of the show. I think the original was an old, white haired guy, who wound up getting fired for getting caught doing something. Getting caught is the leading cause of losing one's job in every field. Perhaps it was blow, perhaps it was hamsters, who remembers?
Then Judge Judy. Out of the volumes of shows I don't understand, this would be on top. I am not a violent person, but every time I hear her voice, I start looking around for a 2x4. I strongly feel applying it to her head would make her more hospitable. She's a miserable, cranky old lady, and about the rudest person on tv. Apparently that's a downright plus these days, because her ratings are through the roof. Naturally, because of this, we were inundated by a ton more judge shows, one of which Judy produces. I guess this is the Jerry Springer Show for people with 1 more IQ point. Since I don't like the Jerry Springer Show, these don't stand a chance. Judy is downright crotchety and rude. So many of us have someone in our lives who is almost this rude, so watching an even nastier version of it on tv is mind boggling. I feel sorry for the poor husband, whose carcass is in a dark corner of the house. He had an affair because he wanted a different black widow to eat him after sex.
So now there's the judge who was on his way to being a gang-banger and worked his way out, the ex-alcoholic, the current alcoholic, the sit down comic, the one who likes sheep, and a couple of pretty ones. Hollywood being what it is, the format is exactly the same on all shows. They all have a trusty bailiff, who gets no recognition, and they all have a shit show of a show.
The only thing you can take from these shows is that Stupid is not a defense.
- Have you ever heard someone address a number of people and say, "What I'm going to tell you is as follows..." ?
- me either
The People Who Should Know These Kind of Things tell me that people are getting depressed, rammy, and angry due to the Flying AIDS. If you didn't have anybody to inform you, you could tell by their driving. Mrs. lefty has had some really scary experiences, including a borderline serial killer, who kept slowing down his car from the front and getting out. The most recent example cut her off to get in front, then kept tapping his brakes. She threw up her hands, the guy put his car in Park, then got out, looking for a fight. At this point, 2 biker-looking dudes got out of their cars and told the guy to get back in his car. The gentlemen paced her til her exit, to make sure there was no more trouble. Gentlemen from the old school.
This is bad. It was roughly mid-day on an intrastate. If you have to be careful and afraid to drive on this (and other) road, you start to question leaving the house. It's a bit rattling.
I go to my go-to: a gun. It usually stops that kind of idiot aggression.
Otoh, what kind of pussy touches a woman with a cane?
On the 3rd hand, a cane with an automatic rifle built in.
We have a winner!
- UPDATE: the guy my friend hired to do some work on her house, who moved in and claimed he lived there, is now officially not living there, courtesy of the police
Hasbro will drop the "Mr" in Mr Potato Head, to "promote gender equality and inclusion"
- women will demand to have erectile dysfunction
- Mother Nature will be replaced by "Non-Gendered, Clinically Insane, Random-Tempered Parent of Nature"
- midwife will be midperson (like anyone is going to complain about existing female-gendered terms)
- First Spousal Unit of the US instead of FLOTUS
- there is absolutely no place for "husband and wife"
- caveman will be left alone
- animal husbandry will be abandoned completely, as it should be, along with fishwife, first wife, ex wife, temporary wife, vice wife,
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