Monthly Archives: December 2012

Is It Spam?

Lately I’ve been getting spam. At least I think it is. WordPress spam. Or rather, spam ON WordPress. Like this:

Hello you have a great weblog over here! Thanks for posting this interesting stuff for us! If you keep up the great work I’ll visit your weblog again. Thanks!

Which doesn’t really look like the spam (“special ofir act fast get new imitation rollex now”) I normally get. (Although I do wonder why “kinky-dating” is sending it to me.)

Then I realized – wait a minute, how does anyone really know that it’s spam? Other than the subject line “get your sex, drugs, and sex drugs here”, what makes spam spam and not just a poorly written, haphazardly constructed, grammatically maladjusted assortment of incomprehensible syllables?

In other words, what if it’s poetry?

Seriously. A normal person reading this:

thoroughly oiled the universal
joint tested my gas felt of
her radiator made sure her springs were O.
K.) i went right to it flooded-the-carburetor cranked her

is thinking: Wow. Written by the king of sex spammers.

Normal persons would be wrong.

Which would cause a normal person to read this:

Horrible yells power fan whether it really change?
and generally how to do it?
stupidly unscrew 4 screws
and put a new one –
there are nuances?

and think: This at least kinda makes sense. Must be poetry.

Normal persons would, again, be wrong.

At which time normal persons who should know better would read this:

What he has now to say is a long
wonder the world can bear & be.
Once in a sycamore I was glad
all at the top, and I sang.
Hard on the land wears the strong sea
and empty grows every bed.

and think: What the heck? It doesn’t make any sense! I know! I’ll ask a poetry expert.

“Ha!” A poetry expert would respond. “It’s poetry. It doesn’t have to make sense!”

But wait, a normal person would say, look at this one! It’s just about the same:

A lot of time and thought and came to the conclusion
that I wanted to do just the study of the cosmos.
Almost every day you can watch something interesting
out there beyond the planet, and we did no hearing, no spirit.
Why not interested in that? Live harmless interest! And I like.

“Ha!” A poetry expert would respond. “Clearly spam. You obviously don’t know your iambic pentameter from your Longfellow.”

At which point the normal person pulls out this:

Buffalo Bill ‘s
who used to
ride a watersmooth-silver
and break onetwothreefourfive pigeonsjustlikethat

And this:

Share your thoughts who
will be the new vaccine vaccinated who
have traditionally and who
say to wash the nose and mouth soap

The poetry expert merely snorts. “The first is an award winning verse penned by the ground-breaking e.e.cummings; the second is gibberish. You can’t tell the difference?”

At which point normal people decide to become spam kings.

FU Facebook

Felix Ungar. Whose roommate just died. But that’s not what you were thinking.

No – you were thinking about something completely different. Probably because you use facebook and every time you do that’s what you immediately think.

It’s not because facebook is a nameless, faceless, soulless machine inexorably devouring the world’s spare time by endlessly creating new apps.

And it’s not because facebook lets you get used to something and then makes you crazy by completely changing it.

And it’s not because facebook created “timeline” and then randomly and unilaterally and against our wills switched users, one by one, to the new system, each of us screaming NOOOOOOOOOOO in furious futility.

And it’s not because facebook is changing humanity into creatures who spend all their time with 45,607 friends they’ve never met.

And it’s not because facebook has no customer service department and no way to contact it in any way, shape or form to express any sentiments of any nature.

Nope. It’s the “like” button.

No matter what the circumstances, Facebook won’t let me love, loathe, disagree, dislike, detest, sympathize or remain undecided. Death in the family? “Like.” Lost your job? “Like.” Broken arm? “Like.” Armageddon? “Like.”

It’s almost enough to make me want to complain to customer service. Oh, wait …


is exactly how your face feels when you read this:

Woman who had 77-lb. cyst removed thought she’d just been ‘overeating’

And as you wonder how the “77-pound cyst developed undetected.” And want to know how it was possible for her doctor to not. Notice. Anything. Wrong.

Meet Alice

Tea Pots complain they are unfairly stereotyped as dumb as doorpost illiterates who write (using CAPS, LOTS OF CAPS) about God and freedom and taking back the country from that socialist-marxist-homo-lib-commie-foreigner Obama and who worship Glenn Beck and Michelle Bachmann with a passionate constancy.

I don’t want to be unfair so decided to look at a random Tea Pot to see if those stereotypes are unfair. Or untrue. I chose Alice. She can thank Matt Kibbe.

I get emails from Matt Kibbe asking me for money. You know, Matt Kibbe. The nut job President and CEO over at FreedomWorks, the Tea Pot non-profit with the primary purpose of raising money to keep paying Matt Kibbe a really nice salary. (For some reason that purpose allows them to qualify as a tax-deductible charitable organization. Who knew?)

Which requires lots of emails asking for money. Like the one I just got. Which told me to “Meet Alice,” just an ordinary activitist true patriot seeking to take back the country from that socialist-marxist-homo-lib-commie-foreigner Obama.

Of course, when you click on the link to meet her, you get this: “PLEASE MAKE YOUR YEAR-END DONATION OF $25, $50, $100 OR MORE NOW!”

Hmmm. LOTS OF CAPS. Maybe it’s just a coincidence.

You also get a film clip which doesn’t tell us much about Alice, so I decided to learn more about the woman who is “an inspiring tribute to the unwavering commitment of this grassroots movement to make freedom a priority.” I googled her.

Turns out that this is Alice.

She is, of course, a Tea Pot. And a Republican. (Coincidentally, Tea Pots ALL seem to be Republicans seeking to elect Republicans.  For some reason that still allows Tea Pot groups like FreedomWorks to qualify as non-partisan tax-deductible charitable organizations. Who knew?)

But I digress.

She is a member of the “Space Coast Patriots.” Ironically, she does not find this ironic.

But I don’t want to unfairly stereotype her even though she wrote this:


(Because so help me we all have the right to bare arms. Unless you have those flappy things where your triceps used to be.)

Alice, by an amazing coincidence, also belongs to Brevard 912, Brevard Tea Party, and the Republican Liberty Caucus of Central East Florida.

Alice, by an amazing coincidence, lists these groups as “interests”: 9/12, We Surround Them, Tea Party, Liberty, The 912 Project, Tea Party Patriots, Take Back our Country.

Alice, by an amazing coincidence, also listens to Glenn Beck.  Who, by an amazing coincidence, founded the “we surround them 9/12 project” to which Alice belongs.

Alice, by an amazing coincidence, also is a close friend of Michele Bachmann, and lunches with her whenever their schedules permit.

Alice, by an amazing coincidence, also lacks basic spelling skills: we are losing our culture and our American values. It’s imparative we each do our part in stamping out Socialism; ‘social justice’; nanny state tactics; & electing conservatives.

Alice, by an amazing coincidence, also believes our President was born someplace, anyplace, outside of the U.S., as demonstrated by her heartfelt response to a blog post claiming that “Obama was never legal to begin with. Millions of ‘birthers’ who are intelligent, taxpaying Americans already believe that.”

Thank you soooooooo much for this wonderfully-written article! I have made copies of it to share with the oldsters I know who don’t have a computer. But I would like to send it in to the 9-12 group, if you have not already done that. I would also like to send it to many others who are not 9-12ers. You have articulated what many of us think in such a logical way.

But maybe she’s just an exception. Maybe they really aren’t all that dumb.


So I’m surfing the ‘net, doing my thing, when I see this picture and come to a screeching halt, the kind of sudden stop Wile E. Coyote makes when he runs full speed into the side of a cliff for perfectly logical reasons and then asks himself why do I always fall for this crap I need to talk to my agent dammit.

This picture.

Of skateboarding great Tony “The Hawk” Hawk.

Zipping along at a high rate of speed.

On a skateboard.

With his 4-year-old daughter Kadence Clover Hawk.

Swinging her through the air.

At the top of a half-pipe.

A concrete half-pipe.

Surrounded by acres of more concrete.

But no protective gear.

Naturally, some namby pambies thought that such behavior irresponsibly put the child at an increased risk of harm. Where were their helmets? The elbow and knee pads? The shoes?

And naturally, the 44-year-old man who – let’s face it – has never had a grown up job requiring any responsibility in his life, disagreed.

And posted another pic of him and his 4-year-old zipping along at a high rate of speed. On a skateboard. With no protective gear. Saying, “For those that say I endanger my child: it’s more likely that you will fall while walking on the sidewalk than I will while skating with my daughter.”

Take that you namby pambies!

Let’s face it – a guy who names his daughter Kadence Clover is not going to be someone who thinks protective gear is necessary even if he’s Wile E. Coyote.

The real question is: where is Mom? Mom would never let this happen. Oh no. Mom is like, “You did what? Are you out of your mind? I don’t care how many Xbox games are named after you, you are NOT taking that child on a skateboard without a helmet, padding, and some decent shoes! What’s wrong with you? Do you think Mom Andretti would let Mario take the kids out for a spin without their car seats or a seat belt just because he’s a professional driver? Hell no!”

The other real question is: what kind of people say things like “It is not our place to judge … I see nothing wrong … It would freak me out if just anyone were doing it, but it is Tony Hawk.”

Ha! Tell that to Mom Andretti!

More Fun With Lists

So here I am. Writing my blog again. Why am I writing a blog instead of earning real money writing real articles like “15 super-frugal saving tips“?

Because I’d rather rip off my own fingers, one at a time, than write something that 1) people already know or 2) is really, really stupid. Or both.

Doubt me? Here’s the caption after the title: “Big-time penny-pinchers will go all out to cut back on spending. These strategies can help them save more than the average consumer.”

Here are the actual tips (the comments are mine):

1. Take cold showers: this bright idea will save money by lowering power and water bills through shorter showers (reducing energy and water use).  Until you consider the medical expenses for men after their testicles retreat into their bodies seeking warmth or the real risk that people will skip showers altogether, increasing usage (and adding the cost) of air fresheners and colognes.

2. Get rid of your car: Great, just great. The .001% of the population who has access to affordable public transportation gets to save a whole lot of money. The rest of us (you know – 99.999%) can commute on foot or bicycle. All year long. Including winter. When, during that long, dark, bitterly cold bike ride home, you get frost bite and hypothermia. Requiring the amputation of two toes, an ear, and your left pinky. While recovering in the hospital, brighten your day thinking about how not having the expense of a car will let you pay .001% of your hospital bill.

3. Stop using a fridge: We know how much money the Amish save with this tactic. Or do they? Can’t they use gasoline-powered generators? So maybe they don’t save any money at all. Or is it the Mennonites? They both look the same to me. Does that make me a bigot?

4. Replace your house with an RV: what could be cheaper – or easier – than traditional housing? So much less to keep clean! So much less space to call home! Or seek privacy! Which you remember a split second too late after you have a fight with your roommate and stalk out, slamming the door as you exit the RV while it rolls down the highway at 60 miles per hour.

5. Bake cookies in your car: really? What whack job thought this up? Oh. That’s right. The same whack job who thinks that parking your car in the sun on a 95+ degree day and waiting 2.5 hours for the cookies to bake is okay. Nobody waits that long for cookies. Just eat the damn cookie dough. Same amount of energy saved, no waiting.

6. Reuse plastic sandwich bags: the only tip so far that makes any sense. Except when the bag is used to transport body parts, anthrax, or arsenic.

7. Turn car off while it’s still moving: Best idea yet! What could possibly go wrong? Let’s just turn off the engine while we’re coasting even though the car isn’t burning any measurable gasoline. Just be careful not to turn the key to the — wait a minute! Ack! I accidentally turned the key to the “locked” position! Look out for that truc–

8. Make your own cleaning supplies: like Tip #6, not a bad idea. Better idea: don’t clean, save even more!

9. Stop drinking soda (or other beverages): Sooo smart. Stop drinking beverages of all kinds. Save money for the funeral which will happen shortly after you die of dehydration.

10. Move in with your parents: I’m betting it wasn’t a parent who thought this up. Better yet – don’t give them the chance to say no. Just say you’re coming home for a visit and then never leave.

11. Buy in bulk: because everyone needs a closet full of gallon jars of olives. Which segues nicely to …

12. Stockpile supplies: won’t necessarily save you money, but in the event of a zombie attack, you won’t have to risk a trip to the grocery store.

13. Compare prices: First, make sure you convert to the same unit of measurement. For example, when buying steak, note that filet mignon, at $19 a pound, looks more expensive than the caviar at $18 an ounce, making the caviar look like a better deal. Until you realize that caviar is raw fish eggs and THAT could mean you’d eventually cough up a sturgeon and you don’t even like fish.

14. Cook big: nothing saves money like eating leftovers for a week because by the third night you’ll decide not to eat anything at all, saving even more!

15. Plan ahead: be a “Surprise! Just thought I’d drop by, my that smells good” uninvited guest who coincidentally happens to arrive as people are sitting down to dinner. Change destination nightly.

And Now for a Trip to the Dark Side

Last Minute Gift Ideas for People You Really Hate:

You know who they are. And you know you hate them. Which is why it’s the last minute and you still haven’t bought them a gift. But you have to. You’re obligated. But never fear. Here are some suggestions sure to make those special someones happy.

1. Wheelmate Laptop Steering Wheel Desk: For just $29.99 you can be almost completely certain that within days you can permanently scratch the recipient off your gift list.

2. If you don’t like that version, try the Chief Steering Wheel Desk, Notebook Size. This baby sells for just $19.99 and conveniently holds their notebook at eye level. They won’t be able to keep their eyes on the road!Steering Wheel Desk, Notebook Size

3. And if those two don’t work as planned, offer some additional distractions with a Driver Organizer  (worth every penny of its $19.50 price). This handy organizer puts everything on the front passenger seat – so now the driver has no reason to pull off the road – instead, he or she can simply focus their attention on the seat next to them as they search through the numerous pockets for their  papers, magazines and folders, phone, PDA, CDs and more! They’ll never see what they hit before it happens! 

4. If eye-hand coordination is a problem, a gift certificate for free Javelin Catching lessons might be ideal.

5. Perhaps you prefer subtlety. In that case, a Turkey Fryer might be just the thing.  Be patient. This WILL happen.

6. Send them on a hunting trip.

7. Or how about dinner out – with a trip for fugu at the local sushi place? Don’t be skeptical. If it happened to Homer, it can happen to anyone. Just stick with the California rolls.

You get my drift. Just be creative. You’ll easily find the perfect gift that fits your budget.

Happy holidays from the Addams Family

Parolee confesses to 2 murders after stabbed body found in his bed.

Imagine that conversation.

Officer: What’s that in your bed.

Parolee: What bed?

Officer: That bed.

Parolee: Where?

Officer: The one I’m pointing at.

Parolee: Oh. That bed.

Officer: Yes. That one. What’s in it.

Parolee: I never saw that bed before in my life.

Officer: This is your apartment, right?

Parolee: Oh yes. But I have no idea where that bed came from or how it got in here.

Officer: So I have your permission to look in the bed?

Parolee: Well, let’s say, hypothetically, that it was my bed. If – and that’s if – it was, how much trouble would I be in?

Officer: That depends. What’s in the bed?

Parolee: It’s not my bed so I don’t really know, but let’s say a body is in the bed, then what?

But this isn’t the worst part.


You see, the police had gone to the parolee’s apartment to question him about a 1993 unsolved stabbing death.

The news report said he wasn’t home. It didn’t say how the officers entered and found a woman. In the bed. Under the covers. Stabbed to death.

The parolee later confessed to yet two other stabbing deaths. (Oh, you found the body? Did you also find the ones I stabbed in 1993?)

The parolee was currently on parole after serving13 years for attempting to murder a young woman by (you’ll never guess) stabbing her.

And that was after spending 17 years in South Carolina prisons following a 1970’s stabbing spree that involved at least seven female victims.

I’m guessing this guy didn’t take rejection well.

But the real question is: what the hell was he doing on parole?

Another Ironic Headline:

“Kidnapped handyman forced to fix things”

Pop Goes the Weasel

Yesterday I did the one thing every woman loves to do above all else: watch helplessly as two plates of glass try to squeeze her breast until it explodes. Not just once, but four times.

It’s called a mammogram. And – amazingly – not only is it legal, it’s medically recommended. And required way too often (every one to two years instead of never again).

Men do not understand why women might not enjoy the process. Even when I tell them to think of it as similar to putting the family jewels into a vise and tightening until the possessor of said jewels hits high C.

I was already not in a good mood because the day before was cancer day. I noticed a suspicious spot on my nose several months ago so did what any sensible person would do. I ignored it. I knew if it wasn’t cancer I’d be okay and if it was cancer I didn’t want to know.

But then I realized that if it was cancer and I kept waiting eventually they might have to remove my nose, leaving me looking like Michael Jackson.

I don’t want to look like Michael Jackson so I stopped waiting, only to learn that I had not just one but two “premalignant lesions” (doctor talk for “jesus that’s a precancerous suspicious spot”) which were frozen off and one “I really don’t like the look of that I’m slicing it off right now with this razor sharp instrument and sending it to be biopsied hold still this really won’t hurt that much.”

So now I have a divot on my leg which – and this is the important part – looks really gross but I have to look at it every day for two weeks when I clean the wound (why is that phrase designed to induce the gag reflex?) and make sure I place a dab of vaseline on it before applying the new bandage and don’t worry that oozing white spot in the center is part of the healing process not puss.

I hyperventilated on the way to the bathroom. “I have to look at something really gross, I have to look at something really gross.” I peeled off the bandage. It was really gross. I couldn’t pass out because I had to go to the hospital.

To get my breasts exploded.

I walked passed the front desk on my way to the radiology department which sent me back to the front desk. Which immediately tried to make me into the wrong person because, in their recent update, someone had deleted my records and made me into someone else. Which, as the hospital staff person made perfectly clear, was completely my fault. And here – put on this wrist band which will make you look silly.

She didn’t like it when I told her if it didn’t let me on any rides I wasn’t going to wear it.

She flung the wrist band at me and sent me back to radiology.

This is when I made a critical error. I went.

Which is why I stood next to the mammogram machine trying not to scream as the lab tech flattened my breasts four times. Two times each. And I let her.

But I had to wonder: what kind of person wakes up one morning and decides this is what they really want to do in life.