Tuesday, September 27, 2011

Spam stalkers and land sharks.... no connection whatsoever!!!

Last year, I made a valiant attempt to clean out our family email inbox.  On a daily basis, we received no fewer than 25 emails, and about 23.5 of them were junk.  Anything from restaurant promos to banks owned by Arabian Princes who needed my American dollars for surgery for their poor, dying mothers.  Question: why don’t the hospitals in Arabia not take Arabian money?  And a queen doesn’t have money for surgery?  Hmmmm…. Sounds fishy to me.  
Did you know that most spam ads hit your inbox between midnight and 5 am?  And did you know that you can’t separate junk from important emails on most smart phones, so notifications come in at all hours of the night and naptimes?  Did you know I like to sleep during midnight and 5 am ... and I loves me some naptime?  So you see the problem.
So I was knee deep in ads that promise to enlarge certain body parts, and I realize there is no good way to do this. I decided to start a new email, and use the old one for “junk” emails.  I immediately instructed the Hub that he was not to give out the new email to anyone who would send us spam.
He promptly gave the new email out to not one but two softball groups who send at least one spam email per day.
Then I gave our new email to Coach.  Because, hello…. I definitely want to know immediately when there’s a sale!  Uh, it’s Coach!!!!
Then it sorta went downhill from there.
So we are kinda back to square one with the spam.  Except lately it’s been getting kinda mean, rude and stupid.  I present these examples:
·         AT&T wants me to switch to their internet service.  Wait, you mean the AT&T internet service I’m currently using to read your stupid email?
·         One group tells me that psychologists are important.  Wait... what?
·         The subject line reading: What are you waiting for?  Uh, a nicer email.
·         We know what you’re looking for.  That’s all kinds of creepy…creepy like when Coach Beast on Glee talks about her lady parts.
·         What do we have to do to earn your business?  Well, stop sending stalkerish emails three times a day for starters.
·         We know what you are looking for in discounted funeral services.  Wait… what are you saying, who said I was looking and discounted services? Really? Dang, now I feel old!
So I’m being stalked once again by spam. Oddly enough, I’m not surprised.  So I leave you with a picture of my favorite SNL skit Landshark.  There is absolutely no reason for this picture, other than it makes me happy.

Monday, September 19, 2011

I hate mornings. Eggs are good for you. Road construction bites!

Boring disclaimer: This blog may or may not be true.  I don't even know anymore!
So every road into my office is under construction.  Literally EVERY road has some type of work being done to it.  To make matters worse, one of the main roads that I use on a daily basis has been reduced from four lanes down to two. I’m sure someone thinks there is a good reason for this.  However, I think this is stupid.  Seriously, what reasoning goes into increased traffic backups and short lights?  And it’s pretty rude to not even consider how this affects ME! 
In order to fight da’ man (the City) I first tried to get up earlier.  Well, while the thought sounds good on the surface, the execution of said plan… left a lot to be desired. (like not getting up any earlier). Mornings make me fussy.  Well, lots of things make me fussy…. This is just one of the main ones.
So in the past two weeks, I’ve decided to find a new route to work.  This requires skill, cunning and creativity.  All of which I have very little - especially in the morning.  I’ve tried several different variations of routes and found the best one takes me through – shall we say - a rough area of “the field”.  And there are always unique and interesting things going on in this area.
Like the other day I saw a rather fat robust dude walking down the sidewalk at 7:30 in the morning wearing a cape, a baseball hat, and carrying a six pack of beer.  What???… superheroes need some downtime too – up all night fightin’ crime...?  
So, today I found myself in need of gasoline.  So I pulled into a station and this is what I see.

Yes.  That is an egg.  By the gas pump. No. Got no idea of why it’s there or how it got there.  So I offer these possible solutions:
1.       Someone wanted to rob the store, but was really misguided with their choice of weapon.
2.       Gang of chickens gone wrong. So sad.
3.       Somewhere a pack of bacon and some hash browns are really, really lonely.
4.       Peter and the giant chicken are at it again.
5.       “What're you d... I say, what're you doin' with a pump, pumpin' for oil? You're crazy boy! There's no oil in this ground!” (foghorn leghorn).
6.       Salmonella anyone, anyone?
7.       Somehow this is tied to the animal conspiracy. I don’t know how… but I’m keepin’ my eyes open!
8.       Not really an egg.  Alien monitoring device.
9.       Animal House food fight reenactment…. “That boy... is a p.i.g. pig”
10.   The incredible, edible egg can now pump gas. Very impressive.
Or it could be that the egg fell out of a grocery bag.  But any one of these is a much funnier excuse than that…geez!
If you have any possible ideas… leave them in a comment.  There is always space in my padded room!

Wednesday, September 14, 2011

You pick the title: A) a real life version of Contagion (is that even a real word?) B) I'm just killing time until the Tylenol PM kicks in or C) Why I will never be a world-renowned brain surgeon - I stink at caring for people

As usual, I will disclose that this tale may or may not be true. There are portions of truth, but I’m not gonna tell you which parts. I’m sneaky that way, Ha!  No human, living or undead, were harmed in the making of this story…. Yet.
what's waiting for you at your local Urgent Care.  From here
I’ve been sick.  It will shock most of you to know that I’m not a good sick person.  Essentially I want to be left alone to be miserable, until I want you to wait on me hand and foot.  It IS all about me, geez!  Why is that so hard?  Anyway, I suspect that Dr. Healthy gave me this bug.  I was in his germy office earlier in the week.  I call him Dr. Healthy to protect his identity and to build his character as an ubber-healthy weird person.  Like bike to work, jog during lunch and give up all sugar kinda healthy. I know, crazy, right? 
To make matters worse, the hubs got sick the day after I did. And if I’m not a good sick person, I’m a horrible nursemaid.  Even under the most ideal circumstances, I’m no Florence Nightingale.  And my dislike for this job most likely does exaggerate the truth - a bit. These two facts are probably what are holding me back from my true calling of being a world-renowned brain surgeon. That and I don’t like science – and I’m not that smart.  But anyway…
So this created a two-fold problem.  One, he isn’t available to cater to my needs.  Which is not horrible because of my alone time requirements. But the second aspect is that he is needy – which DOES infringe on my alone time requirements.  And I don’t mean “all men are needy” kinda needy.  I mean…. Feel my head, I feel worse than you do, I think I should go to the ER, Something isn’t right, I hate being sick, I am sure I’m dying kinda whiney.  He’s always very dramatic during illness or injury, and I’m pretty sure he believes there is a hidden camera around, and feels the need to give an Oscar winning performance (like Tom Hanks in Philadelphia) at all times.  I called him a lost puppy one day.  He just follows me around looking kinda lost leaving a trail of used Kleenex and empty medicine foil in his wake.  Sad.  Or Stalkerish…. So you can kinda envision my home this week.
The kids all take this in stride.  They are wonderful girls.  They help us, get drinks, go on Walgreen runs, etc. Stinker even offered to pick up the used Kleenex (don’t worry, I stopped her).  But they also see the humor of it all.  And they make fun of us.  They clearly get that from me.
So after a day of him nearing the bright, white light, he decides to go to the Dr.  I’m not a “dr. person” per say.  I’ve been told way too often to “let it run its course”.  Thanks to the former pediatrician… We’ll call him Dr. Retired to a huge island in the south pacific ….now I really buy into that crap for me.  But the hubs felt that his deadly, much worse than mine, disease needed doctor consulting – clearly he wanted a doctor with a “medical license” and the ability to write prescriptions.  Whateve!.  So he went.
Now you should know that for two days, he’s suggested that we have strep. Beings that I’m almost a doctor (see above reference), I do not feel its strep but rather a virus.  I did have to think back to recall if I had been bitten by any vampires, zombies, or rabid squirrels, but good news… no bites.  The hubs has not been bitten either.  Double good news – I would hate to have to care for a vampire… geez!
So he goes to the germ fest called Urgent Care (see above photo), and comes home to announce that…he has strep. Well, crap!  Now he really does have something to whine about.  I do another assessment with my mad Dr. skills and decide that I don’t think I would be getting better, which I was… slowly… if I had strep.  So I decided to forgo the doctor… at least for the time being. 
So fast forward to day four.  I decide to venture to work and about 2, felt I could stay no longer. Since we were on day four, I decide I should call Doctor Healthy.  I mean, he’s got a family to feed and all. I left a message with his nurse, and just as I suspected, she suggested I wait and look for improvement.
Good news. My classification as an informal doctor is still intact. (I get my knowledge from having three kids who went to the doctor A LOT and from watching lots of Mystery Diagnosis.  Further good news, I don’t believe it’s an autoimmune disease, and it’s ALWAYS autoimmune disease on that show.) And I’m feeling better.  I know this because I felt like outwardly criticizing America’s Got Talent tonight.  And for the record, the one dude that sings like Sinatra... creeps me out!  Like Burger King costume man creeps me out!  Oh... Anyway   And obviously Dr. Healthy agrees with my assessment or he doesn’t want me back in his office germing up the place. Or asking for prescription diet pills or medically necessary liposuction.  Something about "not a healthy option"… whatever…. Health freak!

Wednesday, September 7, 2011

Flies are gross!

You know that movie The Fly with Jeff Goldblum from like 1986?  It’s a tragic tale of a science experiment gone awry, (furthering my suspicions that science is no good)  the scientist is transformed into a huge fly and chaos and terror commence.  Then Geena Davis get’s all weepy for Jeff Goldblum, who by the way, is waaaaay creepy before he turns into a fly.  Just sayin’.  Anyway…
So the other day the Hubs and I were in a McDonalds drive through and this is what lands on our windshield.
 This is quite possibly the largest fly ever known to man.  We're talking pterodactyl size big.

Notice how Jeffy McJefferson (A fly that big has to have a name) appears to be eating the golden arches?  Good photography or huge, sign eating bug???  We will never know!
Perhaps Jeffy is really a science experiment gone bad and he’s escaped from the lab?  Or maybe this is a zombie fly that is reigning terror on other, innocent flies?  Maybe this fly is on ‘roids and just back from the gym?  Or maybe this is just a large horse fly looking for a quick meal. 
 It’s interesting that Jeffy is eating the sign, rather than the food from McDonalds….or is it? Yea, think about that one for a bit.  Uh huh! Eye opening, huh… take that Morgan Spurlock!!!* 
So I had about a hundred jokes about flies, McDonalds and poo, but I really think Jeffy speaks for himself.  Don’t you? Probably because he’s got vocal cords… that thing was HUGE.  Let’s hope this is not the beginning of the animal takeover!
*Morgan Spurlock is the dude that ate nothing but McDonalds for like a month and filmed a documentary about it.  Yea…. Like we are all shocked that McDonalds food is unhealthy… whateve!  It’s still tasty!