Best wishes for a safe and happy 2008!
Monday, December 31, 2007
Wednesday, December 26, 2007
A COMPLETELY hypothetical situation…
Let’s just say that you got your typical, computer-illiterate, older adult an iPod Shuffle for Christmas. For the sake of argument, let’s say that person was your mother. Not that I got MY mother an iPod Shuffle for Christmas or anything. No, no. This is all about making the story “flow” better and all.
Anyway, let’s say you offer to help “your mother” install iTunes on her computer on the day after Christmas. You happen to stop by your mother's house while she is away. For the sake of argument (yes, again), let’s put her at a movie theater a couple of miles away.
The installation of iTunes doesn’t take very long. Like most typical, computer-illiterate, older adults, your mother is vastly underutilizing her top-of-the-line machine.
You think you are wasting your time when, while running the iTunes setup, the program prompts a question: Would you like iTunes to search your hard drive for any music or video files and transfer them to an iTunes friendly format? You figure you already know the answer. Mainly: good ole mom is barely using the machine for anything but Excel spreadsheets and QuickBooks. Why would she have any music or video files? You click SEARCH anyway, though, because you suppose anything is possible (and because you don’t want to have to come back later to transfer a music file from her desktop into iTunes simply because she doesn’t understand how to do it properly).
Imagine your surprise when you discover iTunes just transferred 441 files (representing 5.8 hours and nearly 800 MB of space) of hardcore VIDEO PORNOGRAPHY!
What would YOU do?
Tuesday, December 25, 2007
Merry Christmas!!!
The requisite picture of Santa Paws with "the kiddos".
No idea why Santa looks irritated (bored?). The puppies seem happy, though, so whatever.
(How cute is Haskell in his red velvet bow tie?!)
No idea why Santa looks irritated (bored?). The puppies seem happy, though, so whatever.
(How cute is Haskell in his red velvet bow tie?!)
Monday, December 24, 2007
Sunday, December 23, 2007
When good cars go bad...
Ug. This week has been crazy. Absolutely crazy.
Since last Sunday, I’ve been to two luncheons, three cocktail parties, two formal balls, a holiday orchestra concert and a brunch. I’m kind of impressed that I’m still standing. Thank goodness I didn’t have to go to work this week. Somehow, I doubt I would have been very productive.
(Rough life, I know.)
Somewhere in the mist of all this “being social”, I managed to take an evening off (gasp!). I’m not really sure how this worked out, but I was glad for the break. Even better: it was Susie’s 26th birthday. So, the other regular Pub Quizzers and I decided to take her out to dinner and a movie to celebrate.
Technically, I was in charge of the planning the party, which I’m sure EVERYONE else thought would be easy for me since I didn’t have work and all. And, really, it should have been, because ohmygosh! But, as it turns out, so NOT the case. In the mist of all the other parties, staying up late, Christmas shopping, etc., my car managed to break down. Always fun. Especially since I spent almost $1,000 on it LAST month. Grrrrrr. Stupid domestic-made vehicle.
Anyway, my “Check Engine Soon” light had come on a week or so BEFORE I actually took it in to the shop. I didn’t panic partly because I assumed that it had come on in connection to the 30,000 mile vehicle “mile”stone (pun intended). Apparently, this was a big mistake. Or could have been, at least. Somehow I managed to crack my gas tank and my gas tank neck (most likely due to a structural weakness, and not by anything I did while driving). According to the mechanic, I was essentially driving around in a ticking time bomb. The car could have exploded at any time since the cracks appeared. Something about static electricity from the outside and the gas entering the engine through the neck. I dunno - I wasn’t really listening. All I heard was, “Your car could have exploded…”, and I kind of stopped paying attention.
So, yeah. I completely dropped the birthday ball.
But Susie’s birthday party was fun. I bought her a cake, and we all sang HAPPY BIRTHDAY. Susie had originally requested to eat Turkish food and see the movie Enchanted. So we ate at P.F. Chang’s and saw American Gangster. I mean, obviously. Turkey’s close to Asia, right? And Enchanted is basically a gangster movie. Yeah, it is totally the same.
Thanks for going along with me on that.
I don’t think any of us realized how long American Gangster was, though. Poor Susie parked underneath Dillard’s at Northpark, and – of course – the department store was closed by the time the movie got out. So, I offered to drive her to her car. It made me feel better than the thought of her walking around by herself in a deserted mall parking lot late, late at night.
Only problem: Susie couldn’t remember exactly where she parked. Only that her car was somewhere on the first floor of the Dillard’s parking lot. For those of you not familiar with the Northpark mall, it left a lot of area to cover. Luckily, most of the cars were gone at that hour, so finding Susie’s wasn’t nearly as difficult as it could have been. Plus, it was red, so it kind of stood out. Thank goodness!
None of us had ever seen Susie’s car before. We’d heard a lot about it, though. Namely, that she hit a deersomewhere in nowhere deep, west Texas over the Thanksgiving holiday. Apparently, the local law enforcement helped her duct tape her bumper back on. This is evident from the pictures below. My favorite is the taped on emblem.
After taking pictures of Susie’s car, I sarcastically waited for her to get in and drive away before putting the car I was driving (my mother’s Jeep while mine was still in the shop being “defused”) into gear. I half expected to see parts of her vehicle fall off as we followed behind. So did Bert and Melissa (who were both riding with me).
Leaving the Dillard’s lot, Susie turned right (towards Northwest Highway), and I went left. And that was that. Or so we all thought.
I merged onto Central Expressway, and exited Mockingbird Lane. The weird thing is that I normally would have stayed on the highway at that hour as the lights on Mockingbird drive me crazy. Similarly, I generally aim for the left turn only lane, but decided to merge into the turn-left-or-go-straight lane at the last minute. Why? No clue. It was just something I did at the last minute without really thinking about it. I never could have predicted what would happen next.
I was the third car in my lane at the light. When the light finally turned green, the first car pulled into the intersection, but the car in front of me didn’t move. I gave them a couple of seconds to get a clue before laying on the horn. The car, however, still didn’t move, and the light at the intersection turned from green to yellow. We had missed the light!
Jackhole!
Exasperated, I was just about to let loose a string of profanity when I heard Melissa (who was seated shotgun in the seat next to me) utter:
“Wait. Is that Susie?”
No. Way.
(Way!!)
I looked up just in time to see Susie – flustered in a way that only Susie can be – jump out of the car in a my-car-won’t-start induced panic. She didn’t know that we were in the car behind her, which was obvious by the oh-my-I’m-so-sorry look on her face.
Laughing hysterically, I rolled down the window and waved.
Susie asked if we could help push her car out of the intersection. Only problem: I had to drive the car I was in and Melissa and Bert were laughing too hard to function, much less breathe. Finally, Bert jumped out of the car and ran to Susie’s aid. Melissa, on the other hand, was too busy gasping for air to be much help. Susie has some super-supportive friends, let me tell you.
It was at that moment, I noticed flashing blue lights in the rear view mirror. A cop had pulled up behind me and was running from his car to “the situation” happing in front of mine. We’d find out later that the cop thought he had a b*tch-fight on his hands.
I guess it makes sense. How many times do you see a car honk at another, people jump out and run towards each other and there not be a fight? I mean, if you are a cop and all.
Then, he heard our hysterical laughter, and (apparently) was unable to grasp the fact that we were all friends. He asked Susie and Bert SEVERAL times, “Wait. You all are friends, right? Seriously?” Yeah. That’s how we Pub Quizzers roll. Support through laughter. Pretty sure that makes us all a$$holes.
Bert and Susie pushed the vehicle into the bank parking lot on the northwest corner of the Mockingbird and Central. Once there, the cop came over to check her car, and it was determined that she had run out of gas. Apparently, her low gas light had come on when she started the car back in the Dillard’s parking garage. Normally, that would mean she had approximately 30 miles left until empty. However, her sensor had malfunctioned and she had only about 1 mile left to burn. Hence, the whole not moving thing at the intersection a few moments before.
Poor thing.
More laughter from her ever-supportive support team.
As the cop walked by my car, I managed to tell him between giggles, “And it’s her birthday, too!” He smiled and shook his head.
I’m pretty sure he still didn’t believe that we were all friends. Or if we were, Susie was in desperate need of new ones. Can’t say I blame him.
Susie really wanted to leave her car in the bank parking lot, but the cop advised against it. Apparently, cars that get left there over night are almost always broken into, stolen or dismantled. I think Susie’s reaction to this news was something like, “They can take it! Or they can try, at least. It doesn’t run and the damn thing is being held together with duct tape!” Poor thing. At that moment, she’d simply had it with her little, red car.
The officer then explained what Susie needed to do. Mainly, walk across the street, buy a gas can and siphon, fill it up, walk back to the vehicle and pour it inside.
Then, something no one expected:
Susie announced that she had a gas can and siphon in her trunk. Along with a Louisville slugger, blanket and a blue tarp. And to think Susie didn’t want to see American Gangster! She’s already got the tools for a successful life of crime right there in the trunk of her car!
As she went to open the trunk, however, her car alarm went off. Embarrassed, Susie flailed in an attempt to silence the shrill noise. We, her friends, proceeded to laugh even harder. Then, when poor Susie finally got the alarm turned off, we heard a voice from the police car behind us. It was the cop on his loud speaker. In a deadpan voice the following words reached our ears: “Happy Birthday.”
“HAHAhahahahahahahahahahahahahaha!”
Again. We are supportive people!
Susie was mortified with embarrassment. She kept saying, “You all just don’t understand. Stuff like this just happens to me!”
Finally, gas can in hand; we drove Susie across the street to buy gas. I offered to pay for it (since it was her birthday and all), but Susie wouldn’t let me.
Five minutes later, we were back siphoning gas into Susie’s car. Here is the photo evidence:
At one point, I was quoted as saying, “Quick! Someone help Susie with the gas tank. I’m too busy taking pictures.” Yeah. I know. Supportive. To be fair though, does it really look like Melissa is helping much? I don’t think so! Go back and review the photos if you don’t believe me!
After Susie successfully filled her gas tank, we followed her back to her house. This was mainly to ensure she actually got there. After all, we had mocked her car and her car had rebelled. We owed it to the birthday girl to get her all the way home.
So, that was how we spent last Tuesday. I’m sure we’ll be laughing about this one for years to come!
Since last Sunday, I’ve been to two luncheons, three cocktail parties, two formal balls, a holiday orchestra concert and a brunch. I’m kind of impressed that I’m still standing. Thank goodness I didn’t have to go to work this week. Somehow, I doubt I would have been very productive.
(Rough life, I know.)
Somewhere in the mist of all this “being social”, I managed to take an evening off (gasp!). I’m not really sure how this worked out, but I was glad for the break. Even better: it was Susie’s 26th birthday. So, the other regular Pub Quizzers and I decided to take her out to dinner and a movie to celebrate.
Technically, I was in charge of the planning the party, which I’m sure EVERYONE else thought would be easy for me since I didn’t have work and all. And, really, it should have been, because ohmygosh! But, as it turns out, so NOT the case. In the mist of all the other parties, staying up late, Christmas shopping, etc., my car managed to break down. Always fun. Especially since I spent almost $1,000 on it LAST month. Grrrrrr. Stupid domestic-made vehicle.
Anyway, my “Check Engine Soon” light had come on a week or so BEFORE I actually took it in to the shop. I didn’t panic partly because I assumed that it had come on in connection to the 30,000 mile vehicle “mile”stone (pun intended). Apparently, this was a big mistake. Or could have been, at least. Somehow I managed to crack my gas tank and my gas tank neck (most likely due to a structural weakness, and not by anything I did while driving). According to the mechanic, I was essentially driving around in a ticking time bomb. The car could have exploded at any time since the cracks appeared. Something about static electricity from the outside and the gas entering the engine through the neck. I dunno - I wasn’t really listening. All I heard was, “Your car could have exploded…”, and I kind of stopped paying attention.
So, yeah. I completely dropped the birthday ball.
But Susie’s birthday party was fun. I bought her a cake, and we all sang HAPPY BIRTHDAY. Susie had originally requested to eat Turkish food and see the movie Enchanted. So we ate at P.F. Chang’s and saw American Gangster. I mean, obviously. Turkey’s close to Asia, right? And Enchanted is basically a gangster movie. Yeah, it is totally the same.
Thanks for going along with me on that.
I don’t think any of us realized how long American Gangster was, though. Poor Susie parked underneath Dillard’s at Northpark, and – of course – the department store was closed by the time the movie got out. So, I offered to drive her to her car. It made me feel better than the thought of her walking around by herself in a deserted mall parking lot late, late at night.
Only problem: Susie couldn’t remember exactly where she parked. Only that her car was somewhere on the first floor of the Dillard’s parking lot. For those of you not familiar with the Northpark mall, it left a lot of area to cover. Luckily, most of the cars were gone at that hour, so finding Susie’s wasn’t nearly as difficult as it could have been. Plus, it was red, so it kind of stood out. Thank goodness!
None of us had ever seen Susie’s car before. We’d heard a lot about it, though. Namely, that she hit a deer
After taking pictures of Susie’s car, I sarcastically waited for her to get in and drive away before putting the car I was driving (my mother’s Jeep while mine was still in the shop being “defused”) into gear. I half expected to see parts of her vehicle fall off as we followed behind. So did Bert and Melissa (who were both riding with me).
Leaving the Dillard’s lot, Susie turned right (towards Northwest Highway), and I went left. And that was that. Or so we all thought.
I merged onto Central Expressway, and exited Mockingbird Lane. The weird thing is that I normally would have stayed on the highway at that hour as the lights on Mockingbird drive me crazy. Similarly, I generally aim for the left turn only lane, but decided to merge into the turn-left-or-go-straight lane at the last minute. Why? No clue. It was just something I did at the last minute without really thinking about it. I never could have predicted what would happen next.
I was the third car in my lane at the light. When the light finally turned green, the first car pulled into the intersection, but the car in front of me didn’t move. I gave them a couple of seconds to get a clue before laying on the horn. The car, however, still didn’t move, and the light at the intersection turned from green to yellow. We had missed the light!
Jackhole!
Exasperated, I was just about to let loose a string of profanity when I heard Melissa (who was seated shotgun in the seat next to me) utter:
“Wait. Is that Susie?”
No. Way.
(Way!!)
I looked up just in time to see Susie – flustered in a way that only Susie can be – jump out of the car in a my-car-won’t-start induced panic. She didn’t know that we were in the car behind her, which was obvious by the oh-my-I’m-so-sorry look on her face.
Laughing hysterically, I rolled down the window and waved.
Susie asked if we could help push her car out of the intersection. Only problem: I had to drive the car I was in and Melissa and Bert were laughing too hard to function, much less breathe. Finally, Bert jumped out of the car and ran to Susie’s aid. Melissa, on the other hand, was too busy gasping for air to be much help. Susie has some super-supportive friends, let me tell you.
It was at that moment, I noticed flashing blue lights in the rear view mirror. A cop had pulled up behind me and was running from his car to “the situation” happing in front of mine. We’d find out later that the cop thought he had a b*tch-fight on his hands.
I guess it makes sense. How many times do you see a car honk at another, people jump out and run towards each other and there not be a fight? I mean, if you are a cop and all.
Then, he heard our hysterical laughter, and (apparently) was unable to grasp the fact that we were all friends. He asked Susie and Bert SEVERAL times, “Wait. You all are friends, right? Seriously?” Yeah. That’s how we Pub Quizzers roll. Support through laughter. Pretty sure that makes us all a$$holes.
Bert and Susie pushed the vehicle into the bank parking lot on the northwest corner of the Mockingbird and Central. Once there, the cop came over to check her car, and it was determined that she had run out of gas. Apparently, her low gas light had come on when she started the car back in the Dillard’s parking garage. Normally, that would mean she had approximately 30 miles left until empty. However, her sensor had malfunctioned and she had only about 1 mile left to burn. Hence, the whole not moving thing at the intersection a few moments before.
Poor thing.
More laughter from her ever-supportive support team.
As the cop walked by my car, I managed to tell him between giggles, “And it’s her birthday, too!” He smiled and shook his head.
I’m pretty sure he still didn’t believe that we were all friends. Or if we were, Susie was in desperate need of new ones. Can’t say I blame him.
Susie really wanted to leave her car in the bank parking lot, but the cop advised against it. Apparently, cars that get left there over night are almost always broken into, stolen or dismantled. I think Susie’s reaction to this news was something like, “They can take it! Or they can try, at least. It doesn’t run and the damn thing is being held together with duct tape!” Poor thing. At that moment, she’d simply had it with her little, red car.
The officer then explained what Susie needed to do. Mainly, walk across the street, buy a gas can and siphon, fill it up, walk back to the vehicle and pour it inside.
Then, something no one expected:
Susie announced that she had a gas can and siphon in her trunk. Along with a Louisville slugger, blanket and a blue tarp. And to think Susie didn’t want to see American Gangster! She’s already got the tools for a successful life of crime right there in the trunk of her car!
As she went to open the trunk, however, her car alarm went off. Embarrassed, Susie flailed in an attempt to silence the shrill noise. We, her friends, proceeded to laugh even harder. Then, when poor Susie finally got the alarm turned off, we heard a voice from the police car behind us. It was the cop on his loud speaker. In a deadpan voice the following words reached our ears: “Happy Birthday.”
“HAHAhahahahahahahahahahahahahaha!”
Again. We are supportive people!
Susie was mortified with embarrassment. She kept saying, “You all just don’t understand. Stuff like this just happens to me!”
Finally, gas can in hand; we drove Susie across the street to buy gas. I offered to pay for it (since it was her birthday and all), but Susie wouldn’t let me.
Five minutes later, we were back siphoning gas into Susie’s car. Here is the photo evidence:
At one point, I was quoted as saying, “Quick! Someone help Susie with the gas tank. I’m too busy taking pictures.” Yeah. I know. Supportive. To be fair though, does it really look like Melissa is helping much? I don’t think so! Go back and review the photos if you don’t believe me!
After Susie successfully filled her gas tank, we followed her back to her house. This was mainly to ensure she actually got there. After all, we had mocked her car and her car had rebelled. We owed it to the birthday girl to get her all the way home.
So, that was how we spent last Tuesday. I’m sure we’ll be laughing about this one for years to come!
(Poor Susie!)
Thursday, December 20, 2007
All clean...
Had our Christmas baths, donned our Holiday bandanas, and are all ready (and waiting) for Santa Paws...
Saturday, December 15, 2007
On happiness...
I don't have to go back to work until January 2nd of NEXT year!
Weeeeeeeeeee!
(and, yes, that IS a picture of me)
Weeeeeeeeeee!
(and, yes, that IS a picture of me)
Thursday, December 13, 2007
BFFs...
JLR is my best friend. For today.
Why?
Because she offered to play the lottery, and use any hypothetical winnings to support me.
If I had any string, I’d totally make her a friendship bracelet. That way her status as my BFF would be official for all to see.
Monday, December 10, 2007
Bang! Bang!
So, about an hour ago, I was watching the evening news when I heard this loud popping sound. Cautiously, I peeped out the front window of my house and saw a white or cream colored, boxy four door sedan slowly driving down my street. For whatever reason, the people inside the vehicle were either setting off firecrackers or are discharging some sort of automatic weapon.
Fun!
I didn’t panic right away. Gunfire (and fireworks for that matter) is rather common in my area. Not that I live in a bad part of town, mind you. I just live close to a not-so-good part of town. As a result, it is not unheard of for noises from the not-so-good part of town to filter up in to my neck of the woods (read: two or three blocks away).
Plus, I was pretty sure I had heard a Fizz! sound which implied a bunch of kids in a car with firecrackers, not guns.
So, when Haskell squeaked to be let out ten or so minutes later, I didn’t think twice about it. I put both dogs outside in the backyard (to do their “evening business”), while I headed to the back to get ready for bed.
And THAT is when I heard it. Two LOUD BANGS coming from (what sounded like) my backyard. I immediately rushed to the back door to let Haskell and Gypsy Kitty back inside. Part of me was convinced that someone had broken into my backyard, noticed the dogs and opened fire on them.
Instead (thank goodness!), I discovered both my dogs at the back door safe and physically unharmed. Haskell was literately trying to dig his way back indoors, and poor Gypsy was violently shaking all over. Both were terrified.
Not knowing what else to do, I locked the doors, turned off the kitchen light, herded the dogs and myself into the master bathroom (which has no windows) and dialed 911.
Here is the conversation that transpired:
911: “9-1-1. What is your emergency?”
Me: “Uhmmm, yes. There were just gunshots around my house and they were really loud. They sounded like they came from my backyard, but I didn’t see anybody. So, maybe they came from the alley directly behind my house? I’m not really sure.”
911: “Ma’am, where are you calling from?”
Me: “My house. I’m standing in the bathroom…”
911: “No, ma’am. I mean, what is your address?”
Me: “You don’t know? I thought you traced these calls?”
911: “No, ma’am. Not if the person calling can tell me where they are located.”
Me: “Really? Okay, well my address is [blah, blah, blah].”
911: “Thank you, ma’am. I’m showing several reports of gunfire in your neighborhood. Goodbye.”
AND THEN SHE JUST HUNG UP!
I’m sorry, what?!
I sat there staring at the phone unsure of the following:
Not knowing what else to do (and not feeling up to leaving the bathroom just yet), I tried calling Trevor. Twice. No answer. Some boyfriend HE is (which is too bad because I totally wanted him to come over and protect me)!
No Trevor meant that I proceeded to call my landlord next as well as text both Melissa and RR in the hopes SOME ONE would still be awake. All three were and deserve medals for talking to me and calming me down. Especially Melissa who convinced me that it would probably be safe to leave the bathroom approximately fifteen minutes after the last gunshot. In an effort to be safe than sorry, I hunkered down next to the john for a good half hour.
So, now I’m sitting in bed, typing this blog entry and listening to the sounds of distant gunfire.
Sigh.
Wonder if I’ll calm down enough tonight to get some shut eye?
Fun!
I didn’t panic right away. Gunfire (and fireworks for that matter) is rather common in my area. Not that I live in a bad part of town, mind you. I just live close to a not-so-good part of town. As a result, it is not unheard of for noises from the not-so-good part of town to filter up in to my neck of the woods (read: two or three blocks away).
Plus, I was pretty sure I had heard a Fizz! sound which implied a bunch of kids in a car with firecrackers, not guns.
So, when Haskell squeaked to be let out ten or so minutes later, I didn’t think twice about it. I put both dogs outside in the backyard (to do their “evening business”), while I headed to the back to get ready for bed.
And THAT is when I heard it. Two LOUD BANGS coming from (what sounded like) my backyard. I immediately rushed to the back door to let Haskell and Gypsy Kitty back inside. Part of me was convinced that someone had broken into my backyard, noticed the dogs and opened fire on them.
Instead (thank goodness!), I discovered both my dogs at the back door safe and physically unharmed. Haskell was literately trying to dig his way back indoors, and poor Gypsy was violently shaking all over. Both were terrified.
Not knowing what else to do, I locked the doors, turned off the kitchen light, herded the dogs and myself into the master bathroom (which has no windows) and dialed 911.
Here is the conversation that transpired:
911: “9-1-1. What is your emergency?”
Me: “Uhmmm, yes. There were just gunshots around my house and they were really loud. They sounded like they came from my backyard, but I didn’t see anybody. So, maybe they came from the alley directly behind my house? I’m not really sure.”
911: “Ma’am, where are you calling from?”
Me: “My house. I’m standing in the bathroom…”
911: “No, ma’am. I mean, what is your address?”
Me: “You don’t know? I thought you traced these calls?”
911: “No, ma’am. Not if the person calling can tell me where they are located.”
Me: “Really? Okay, well my address is [blah, blah, blah].”
911: “Thank you, ma’am. I’m showing several reports of gunfire in your neighborhood. Goodbye.”
AND THEN SHE JUST HUNG UP!
I’m sorry, what?!
I sat there staring at the phone unsure of the following:
- If anyone was coming to see about the gunshots.
- If a certain number of neighborhood residents had to call and complain about hearing gunshots before someone would be dispatched to see about them.
- If the DPD even knew where I lived.
- If anyone cared. At all.
- If I’d be able to lure Gypsy Kitty or Haskell in to the backyard ever again.
Not knowing what else to do (and not feeling up to leaving the bathroom just yet), I tried calling Trevor. Twice. No answer. Some boyfriend HE is (which is too bad because I totally wanted him to come over and protect me)!
No Trevor meant that I proceeded to call my landlord next as well as text both Melissa and RR in the hopes SOME ONE would still be awake. All three were and deserve medals for talking to me and calming me down. Especially Melissa who convinced me that it would probably be safe to leave the bathroom approximately fifteen minutes after the last gunshot. In an effort to be safe than sorry, I hunkered down next to the john for a good half hour.
So, now I’m sitting in bed, typing this blog entry and listening to the sounds of distant gunfire.
Sigh.
Wonder if I’ll calm down enough tonight to get some shut eye?
Wednesday, December 05, 2007
For absolutely NO reason...
The following is an email conversation between me and someone best described as “relating to, belonging to, or characteristic of a bird”. I will call her BERT for short.
The conversation started at 2:33 PM and ended at 5:12 PM.
[Note: Every line represents an individual email]
* Names/addresses changed to protect the innocent.
The conversation started at 2:33 PM and ended at 5:12 PM.
[Note: Every line represents an individual email]
BERT: “Do you have any contact info for *Alice?”
Me: “Maybe.”
BERT: “What do you mean ‘maybe’??? Either you do or you don't. But it is in your benefit if you do.”
Me: “What’s in it for me?”
BERT: “It's a surprise. A good surprise. Not a ‘I-stuck-with-the-gnome-who-won't-give-up-the-chocolate-bomb’ surprise.”
Me: “I’d prefer money.”
BERT: “Would you accept devotion instead?”
Me: “Sorry. Visa, MasterCard, check or cash. I no longer accept Discover.”
BERT: “Well at least you are more accommodating than Neiman Marcus. Deal. Now can I have contact info?”
Me: “How ‘bout peanut M&Ms? Do you have any of those?”
BERT: “Those I can get. If you are really good, I might throw some cookies in the mix.”
Me: “Will the M&Ms be the original colors, or Christmas themed?”
BERT: “Your choice.”
Me: “No. This is a test. Chose.”
BERT: “You don't have the info, do you???”
Me: “No, I do. I have it right here.”
BERT: “I don't believe you. You are stringing this along because you don't have the info.”
Me: “No, I’m stringing this along because the document I’m working on this afternoon is driving me crazy and I like the distraction.”
BERT: “I would still email you if I had the info. I have other questions and conversation topics for you.”
Me: “Stop stalling. Regular colors or Christmas colors? Also, do you have access to the mints they have at the Dallas Country Club?”
BERT: “Christmas. No. Now can I have the info?”
Me: “Can you figure out how to obtain access to the mints at the Dallas Country Club?”
BERT: “I know nothing about the mints.”
Me: “Sigh. You’re no help, which is tragic because I’m craving those mints RIGHT NOW! Here are *Alice’s email addresses: [*address 1, *address 2].”
BERT: “Sorry. But you are a peach for getting me the info. I put in a good word for you with Santa.”
* Names/addresses changed to protect the innocent.
Tuesday, December 04, 2007
Turkeyisms...
New favorite Pub Quiz quotations:
- “I’m very intelligent, thank you!”
- “Remember what the handwriting analyst said: You have no patience for stupid people.”
- “You’ve made my contact hurt!”
- “Wait? The Sears in ‘Sears Tower’ and the Sears in ‘Sears and Robuck’ are the same Sears?! Really?”
Three out of the four statements were made by a CERTAIN SOMEONE. I won’t mention her name, but from this moment on she will be dubbed “The Turkey”. This is (of course) in reference to THIS STORY.
Monday, December 03, 2007
Who is in charge here?
As of TODAY, the Cotton Bowl looks like this:
I'm no expert, but how (exactly) will the Cotton Bowl be ready to go for the Arkansas versus Missouri game on January 1st, 2008?
Furthermore, when did the word “renovation” mean “let’s tear down a quarter of the stadium and start over”? I’m just curious.
I'm no expert, but how (exactly) will the Cotton Bowl be ready to go for the Arkansas versus Missouri game on January 1st, 2008?
Furthermore, when did the word “renovation” mean “let’s tear down a quarter of the stadium and start over”? I’m just curious.
Sunday, December 02, 2007
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