Happy Friggin' Whatever

Well, folks.... it's been a long year; perhaps fifteen months' worth. We went through all sorts of bizarre excremental stuff here and shared it with you. The good stuff stayed home, sorry. We learned about health insurance, observed the Unemployment Follies, watched the car suffer potholes, Philly drivers, people who stop short, and discovered that each accident requires a five hundred dollar deductible. We also found out that there is a yearly limit on rental car days. Neighbors inquired about the house going on sheriff's sale and reported us to the township because of standing water (which turned out to be the dog's pool).

We were told tales of line-dancing Jews, I Heart Boobies bracelets, the woman who beat her mother with a vibrator, recording a song parody in the living room for Billy Joel, dusty Hawaiian shirts, Carlos Santana's questionable musical choices, Security Plus certification and Waffle House - average food...quickly. We even discovered how difficult it is to put stuff into bags.

There has been much head-exploding. In the world of pets, there has been serious attachment due to unemployment, a spooning spaniel, a dog and cat who taught the neighbor to feed them on command and a cocker who does his own recycling.

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And for my last shot of 2014, I give you Internet Acronyms.

SOMFAL - sitting on my fat ass laughing
HYBIBRB - hold your breath, I'll be right back
WPFOMA - when pigs fly out my ass
SWWK - strangling wife with keyboard
IGTRTTIAKY - I'm going to reach through the internet and kill you
WTFAYW - what the f- are you wearing?
OMGYFTAI - Oh my God, you fit that all inside?
MBFFIAT - my best friend forever is a transexual
ITDHTCA - is the dog humping the cat again?
AFKBA - away from keyboard, bleeding again
TKALUITB - the kids are locked up in the basement
ICTWYMF - I can't talk with your mouth full.

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Thank you all for showing up, reading and commenting. I'd like to take this opportunity to wish you Happy Whatever. Stay healthy. Get a job or a better job. Peace. Take care of your pets. By default, 2015 is going to shine.

The Unemployment Follies (#6) - Lefty's Flying CIrcus

Yes, it's another installment of the Unemployment Follies, starring the leftystrat household; the wives, the pets and me.  Judging by the title, you know I'm still without serious employment (or even non-serious employment).

SINKING?

How are things, you ask?
Things are, by and large, still things, only shrunk down by fifty percent. It getting time to call some creditors.  Do you think I can explain to them that since my income dropped by fifty percent, my payments will drop accordingly?

Perception is everything, though.
To anybody looking in, I must look like I'm on some pretty heavy drugs. I spend every day looking for jobs for a few hours, then do some housework (while my wife holds me at gunpoint).  But I'm surprisingly calm.

Of course, I'm probably the only one who's calm. The wife is absolutely Not Impressed with my state of Not Working.  She (et.al.) is in a state of PTSD-induced unrest.  She keeps me on the straight and narrow, memorizing my phone and in-person interviews and asking me if they're still happening.  While the dog is still loving having me home, the wife is definitely not.  Since I have been home, she has taken up a new hobby: laundry.  Nobody knows why but a girl has to have her recreation time.  I tired telling her that it's not necessary to wash clothes every day but there's no dissuading her.  I was kinda hoping she would take up nymphomania but things don't always work out the way one would like.

The neighbor who asked if the house will be going up for sheriff's sale has been really nice, bringing over stuff from the garden.  The other neighbor has been leaving care packages.  For some reason, they include a lot of bread.  Fortunately the dog loves bread, as if we could keep him out of it.  My mom just made us dinner.  We're not destitute by any means but I feel rich in friends and family (ok, and slightly embarrassed).  I even took down the NOT STARVING sign on the house.

AUTO-MOBILE

I'm not exactly certain which neighbors know what but the reactions are priceless. The lady across the street came over to congratulate my wife on the new car.  My wife had to tell her it was a rental.  The good neighbor took one look at the rental car and said, "Oh dear... not again!"  Several other neighbors no doubt think we own a car lot (or are drug dealers).

I have come up with a solution for our next car.  The first part is to NOT LET HER DRIVE.  The other part is to purchase the car and three entire sets of bodies (to be stored at the body shop).  This way, when people hit us (and they WILL hit us), all we have to do is drop the car at the shop and have them replace the body part(s) from our existing inventory.  We won't even have to call the insurance company (at least until we're through the three entire sets of bodies).

Speaking of accidents, my dear wife finally realized that she has a sprained knee and opposite ankle.  This is somewhat compounded by both of her feet swelling like clown feet.  The neighborhood children want to use them for pool floats.  In fact, she's sitting next to me as I type this, blissfully unaware of the content.  Swelling feet are going to look minor in comparison with what she's going to do to me.

Speaking of doing things to me, I have to do my part to help by wrapping ace bandages around her ankles.  Here we are, with this perfect deviant sexual aid, and we're using it for health reasons. Again, I am embarrassed.


WHAT DO YOU DO ALL DAY?

So when I'm not job-hunting, doing housework at gunpoint or wrapping my wife's ankles for health reasons, there is always TV.  I prefer internet tv, as there's almost always something I want to watch. My wife, on the other hand, lives on broadcast tv. You know, old style, plug in the rabbit ears, horrible reception television.  What makes this really horrible is that she likes to watch ancient black and white movies (from just after they added sound) and really old, horrible sitcoms from before we were born. Leave it to Beaver, anyone?

The absolute worst time of the day is during the day, when all the court shows are on. Judge Lynn, Judge Stanislaus, and the most repugnant (and famous) show of all, Judge Judy.  I am convinced that we can eliminate the national debt by selling tickets to have a whack at Judge Judy with a two-by-four (with a railroad spike in it).  There's Divorce Count, People's Court and Banana Nut Bread Court. After being an involuntary spectator in all of these courtrooms, I figure there's really only one court we need: Grammar Court.  Have you heard how these people speak?

With any tv, you get the absolute best part - commercials.  There is a current commercial for a digital tv antenna that boasts tremendous reception and no cable costs.  For those of us with a functional brain, this is a rabbit-ears equivalent that's being sold as a small miracle.

I also discovered that with a certain cable service, one can DVR up to fifteen programs at once.  This is stunning news, that must be reported at once to either Guiness World Records or your local exterminator.  The first thing that occurs to me is why you need to record up to fifteen programs at once when you can barely find one program that's even halfway decent at any time.

Then there's the sue Sue SUE attorney ads.  No matter what the ailment, they can get you MONEY. And they can do it NOW!  Their close cousins are the drug ads.  If you have suffered from a sore groin, hypertension or death, please call 1-800-SUE-YOU2.

Huh? If you have suffered from death, please call?  Dunno about you, but I'd love to be there to watch that phone call.

Today we got an extremely rare treat.. we got to watch CHIPS on the Antedeluvian Channel.  I never saw the show when it came out but I was aware of it and the fact that it was a joke.  Today I found out precisely why it was a joke.  Absolutely the worst acting, writing and shooting job I have ever seen.  You know things are bad when you find yourself longing for the clarity, wit, and fashion sense of The Fresh Prince of BelAir.

We watched stuff like that?
CHIPS was bloody huge in its day (tell them, Eric).

Also amusing were the wacky antics of the police in ADAM-12.  This museum-view of the police took place when people used dial phones and before police started randomly beating people, shooting dogs, and breaking into apartments, shooting babies, then discovering they had the wrong house.  They used antiquated phrases like 'Yes Sir', 'Yes Ma'am' and 'You get it, Pete.'  There was something odd about police in California arresting lowlifes with southern accents.


THE JOB

So how goes the job hunt?
Apparently pretty poorly, judging from the title of this post.  I hope I'm still going to be amusing when I get a new job.

Since I last wrote, I've been approached for jobs in Arkansas, New York, New Jersey and possibly Saudi Arabia (relocation costs covered!).  When travel time is over an hour, the job stops being local.

I'm told this is the time for information security people.  You'd think that the recent breaches at Target, Home Depot and (horrors!) Dairy Queen would indicate the need for security professionals.  One recruiter told me all the security people are employed (except for this one, obviously).

But I'm online, on phone and on the toilet a lot.  Things are opening up (so to speak).  I'm even in a pilot program from the state to help the unemployed find jobs.  The last time I went to the pilot program, the doors were all locked.  I suspect the pilot crashed.  It does make me wonder why I was specially chosen.  Is it because I'm the first ex-Jew they have ever seen?  Maybe it's because my dog is black.

Closed Caption THIS

Ok, I know.... I haven't been keeping up the prior schedule of blogging.  I have no idea why. Perhaps because my life is... less interesting(?) lately...

But let me update you.

No post would be complete without News of the Car.  We're proudly riding with our almost brand new (looking) right side.  Yes, a number of thousands of dollars later, we were free of unsightly dents, which went right up the entire right side of the car.  Not to mention our fourth or fifth passenger side mirror.

I was really proud of the end result.  Several of my coworkers came up to me, unsolicited, to let me know how great the car looked.  You know where I'm going with this, right?

Two days later, the wife calls me at work. "I spun 360 degrees because this Philly piece of dung, no doubt without insurance, ran a red light and came withing inches of the car." [Note: it is stated that over fifty percent of Philly drivers have no insurance].  One of the earlier accidents involved Church People who said they'd pray for us.  It turns out that they were using their dead mother's insurance card and the insurance had lapsed because they hadn't paid the premiums.

Over the weekend I got another call.  It's getting to the point that I'm afraid to take calls from the wife. This time it was a pothole.  Apparently it had swallowed a few businesses and it took out one of the horribly expensive performance tires (on our Hyundai).  Off to Pep Boys after triple A arrived to change to the donut.

Pep Boys, ever the accomodating enterprise, informed her that it would be three and a half hours, minimum, to replace the tire.  The fellow advised her to come back the following morning, scheduling an appointment at ten.

So the following morning (Easter, mind you), she showed up at ten in the morning and found people lined up all over the place.  She went to claim her ten o'clock appointment, only to discover that the previous evening's employee wrote nothing down, including the alleged appointment and wasn't in all day, as is customary.

So I got another call.  I wonder if somehow I stop accepting her calls, flats will stop happening.

Eventually they get to her.  I can't stress highly enough that you purchase the optional tire insurance for your tires (especially the performance tires, which are as rugged as tissues). The total price was thirty bucks.

But WAIT......

Whilst replacing the tire with the huge performance hole in it, the technician discovered another tire, which apparently had a performance bubble in it.  A second thirty bucks well spent.  And it's much better to learn of a tire bubble on a lifter than on a road (at the speed limit, of course).

If anybody knows a shaman or voodoo priest who takes the whammy off cars, please refer them to me.

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For some reason known only to my wife, Closed Captioning is enabled on our television.  It's not really a problem unless we want to see something on the bottom of the screen.

So she's watching some horrid old movie, as is customary.  There's a Jewish wedding happening and the father is talking to the bride, telling her how proud he is and how she has always brought him naches. Naches is a Yiddish word, meaning joy or blessings,pride especially from ones children, grandchildren.

The people who do Closed Captioning apparently don't see much Yiddish, as what came onscreen was 'You have brought me knockers.'

Dad must've been really proud.

Dodging the Potholes

I would be remiss in my duties if I didn't mention the Supreme Court's latest case: whether or not Easton Area School District children can wear I Heart Boobies bracelets.  This is a subject close to my (and your) heart.

Yes, it's that time of the year in PA, where my trashcans require snow tires.  Where there's a snow storm every Monday (plus Wednesdays and the occasional weekend).  When Niagara Falls freezes.  When Seasonal Affective Disorder is at its worst.  When we long for the ninety degree, high humidity, soaking days of summer.

As a result of the near-constant snow, the entire area could be (and has been declared) a disaster area.  I have learned a new way of driving: with my eyes down, looking for rogue potholes.  Most of the area is one huge pothole.  We have small ones but Philadelphia has potholes that can swallow your car (and your house).

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It's also time for all sorts of international festivities, like Ash Wednesday.  This was the day, when my wife was little, when she skipped church and smeared cigarette ashes on her forehead.  Her parents probably knew (although I can't figure out how one can tell the difference).

Then there's Fat Tuesday, named for what happens when you consume all of those donuts.  Not to mention Brazil's Carnaval, where everybody dresses in bikinis (including the men).  But be kind to Brazil, for that is where we get many of our Victoria's Secret models.

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You're probably asking, "Hey lefty - how's your car?"

Interesting you should ask.  Apparently the car had an argument with a bus.  The bus won, but only because it scratched and dented the entire passenger side of my car.  More interesting (in that lovely dark way of mine) is that the mirror is gone.  This will be (approximately) our fourth passenger side mirror.  The universe has a particular fondness for that mirror.  It breaks away cleanly, which makes installation easier, but even a used mirror is about a hundred and fifty bucks.  The last one was black, which allowed me to tell which car was mine in a parking lot, as the car and the other mirror are white.

As is their custom, my insurance company had an adjuster out post-haste and our check is forthcoming. It's kind of exciting because when it's done, my car will look almost like new.  The challenge here is to crap up the rental car in the short amount of time we'll have it.  The other challenge will be to find a body shop that will paint a bullseye on the car (right over the invisible one).

Interesting story about the rental car... the last time our car was hit, the rental cost us about seven hundred and fifty dollars.  Why?  Because yours truly refused to sign up for rental in his car insurance.  Yours truly's wife discovered the increase in premium would be a dollar per month and signed up for it immediately.  She's a wise woman (except for her choice in men).

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Speaking of boobies, have you heard about the woman who beat her mother with a vibrator?  Considering the amount of damage, that had to be some vibrator.

Speaking of cars, how about that lady who drove her kids into the water in Daytona Beach?  Beachgoers were running after the minivan, pulling the screaming children to safety.  The poor kids were screaming that Mom was trying to kill them.  Mom got a free trip to the Happy Place<tm>, where she was evaluated.  Mind you, the police stopped her earlier for unrelated reasons. 

She was accused of three counts of attempted murder.

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The pets are fine, thank you.  Marshall has taken up sitting behind his mommy on the couch.  Like all cockers, Marshall has abandonment issues (unless there's cat food about).

Ren has apparently spent too much time around Marshall and has started being clingy with me.  This is new for the ten-year-old feline (monster).  Normal clingy would be ok but this cat is becoming extremely clingy.  He sits next to me, taking up my entire leg.  Then he puts his head on my leg.  Then he puts his head on my laptop while I'm typing.  If I move, he adjusts himself closer to me.  Even typing has become difficult.  When I physically pick him up and move him, he turns around and comes right back.  If I'm really engaged in typing, he sits there, purring loudly and staring at me until I pet him.  Did I mention he purrs LOUDLY?  He's impossible to ignore (and I do spend time petting him).

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

Apparently some guy pissed off his neighbors by flying a KKK flag with a sign that said 'Members Wanted'.  Personally I can't imagine why his neighbors were upset.  On a serious note, he does have First Amendment rights, no matter how disgusting his sign is.

His wife became a spokesperson for him.  It seems she tolerates his love for his fellow man but doesn't feel the same way herself.

The whole event spurred much discussion at work.  We had to do a little research to find out exactly who the KKK hates.  It turns out to be blacks, hispanics, Catholics, and of course, Jews.

With those happy thoughts, I bid you farewell, until next time.

Happy Belated Birthday

to Graham Chapman, of Monty Python fame, who would have been seventy-two yesterday.


Urinus Interruptus

So I'm minding my own business, in the bathroom, when the door opens.  Of course the door opens - it's the cat, mortified by my human desire to eliminate alone and with the door closed.  I suspect this need of ours for solitude somehow offends felines, who are smart enough to figure out bi-fold doors.  We thought we had outsmarted him (and the dog) by installing the door backwards but this took only a day to figure out.  For both of them.


The Car is Back!

After only three weeks and a day, our beloved car is back from the collision shop, fully repaired.  For those of you keeping score, it's deer zero, us one, insurance four thousand, rental car seven hundred.  It's most fortunate that I'm independently wealthy.

The wife is beyond joyous; she loves her car.  I'm happy to not be paying for a rental, even if the seats were nicer.

Let me say something nice here about State Farm: they've been great and fast.  No crap, no fuss, it's done.  All insurance should work this way (take notice, health insurance).


A Word from the AntiSports

I don't usually bother but I came across this little factlet on the radio the other day: hockey is about to start again, after the lockout.  Philly is the city with the least amount of ticket refund requests, at two-hundred.

Seriously, Philly, you are a huge, dirty city of enablers.  You put up with crappy team performance and greedy millionaires.  What do you do?  You line up to pay them some more.  You deserve what you get.  You pay an egregious amount to simply park at football games, not to mention the now standard TSA-style groping.



In closing, I urge caution on the forced national panic about guns.  There is obviously an agenda here.

This is Why I Can't Have Nice Things

For my entire life, I have driven very old, very used land yachts.  With many additional exterior modifications and features (by which I mean wrinkles, crinkles and dents).  One day a coworker made a comment about my car being an external mess and it bothered me for the first time.

Keeping a pair of land yachts was becoming very expensive, especially after one quit completely.  We decided it would be cheaper to pay for a new(er) car.  I thought it was the best decision and long overdue.   The Hyundai was new to me, but low mileage.  And it had no external modifications and features.  No longer would my coworkers make fun of my car... it was a great new feeling (in spite of five $200 tires).

I felt like the king of the world.  For at least a few months, until some uninsured piece of Philly dung rammed into it while making an illegal U-turn.  BAM - a door that wouldn't open, complete with external modifications and features.  Then a pair of rear-enders, for good measure.  Note that none of this had anything to do with the drivers of our car.

Tonight was the coup de grace.  A deer committed suicide-by-car, using our car.  It was in a High-Deer Area that we drive through now and then.  I thought I saw movement in the distance, which I apparently did.  All of the sudden there is a deer ten feet in front of the car.  Have you ever had a very large animal appear right in front of your car, as if by magic?  If we had the time, it would have been most disconcerting.  At about thirty-five miles per hour, we didn't have the time.  We hit it and physics took over from there.   I felt sorry for the deer.

When we made it to our destination, we looked at the car.  We had no idea there was so much damage... we couldn't see it from inside.  I immediately stopped feeling sorry for the deer.  A friend who works for an insurance company told us he's working overtime due to [wait for it.......] an incredible number of deer-related claims.

They really are after us.

Our insurer was a pleasure to work with when the uninsured idiot hit us.  I expect the same level of service this time.  Can't remember whether I have rental coverage but it's academic at this point.

THE LARGER PICTURE

I have to keep reminding myself that Life Is Not Fair.  We'd probably all be better off if we remembered this.  But I can't help noticing that we get more than our share of Life's Little Mishaps.  Four accidents in  two years, two of which caused significant damage.  I'm kinda tired of being an asshole magnet.  I even did a little research among friends and relatives; they agree that we get more than most.

Saying that I'm not exactly an optimist is like saying Hitler wasn't exactly fond of minorities.  Yet I've had to console myself with faux-optimistic nonsense lately because that's all there is.

A deer took out the front of my car tonight.
Well, you're lucky it didn't come through the window and kill you.

I just got paid for playing an xmas gig with the band and all of it went to pay for a new tire.
Hey, at least it was only one tire.

My band played last night and stunk up the place.
But the audience applauded.

Do you see where I'm going here?  I'm tired of having to play an optimist on tv just to get by.  When my wife complains that her fibromyalgia pain is through the roof after the accident, am I supposed to tell her that at least we got home?  Is that the highest level of comfort I can provide?

There really should be something better than this.