Saturday, December 11, 2010

I can either Smile or Lie. Take your pick.

All right. Let's start off with a video shall we?

I hope that disturbed you as much as it did me. Oh yes, it made me mad. Mad I say! I think, no, I KNOW I yelled at the TV the first time I saw that commercial. I mean, seriously... "Once upon a time there were books." !!!!! Are you kidding me!?!? Um... books still exist! In fact, there are entire buildings dedicated to them. They're called Libraries. And I think heaven is a giant one. I love books. I love how they look, I love how they feel, I love how they smell. Yes, smell. I especially love reading them. Entire afternoons of my childhood were devoted to climbing the tree in my backyard with a book in my hand and staying there reading it until it was too dark out to see the words on the page. I started out with Mercer Mayer and the Zipparumpazoos in elementary school and ended up with Terry Brooks and the Shannara series by Junior High. Yeah, I was a reader. So the implication that books no longer exist, or are passe and inferior to the new E-readers makes me a trifle .... irked. So, needless to say, I have issues with E-readers. As in, I dislike them. Intensely. Someone could try to make an argument that an E-reader with colorful animation and engaging audio makes reading more interesting for children. But my question to them is, is that really considered reading? I mean, if the attention is on moving pictures and sound um,.... isn't that ... TV? As in, not reading. How can anyone learn to love words, learn the value of word choice and word play, learn to create entire worlds with nothing but letters, when they're not really reading? The answer is: they can't. And that lack of appreciation for the written word by an entire generation saddens me enormously.

But something happened over the Thanksgiving break that made me happy. Or rather, enforced my belief that people, in general, are good. I was driving from Tennessee to Kentucky and accidentally locked my keys in my car at a gas station. Not my proudest moment. (And I'm not entirely sure how I managed it, as I had to unlock the door to get out and pump gas, but....anyway) The guy who ran the gas station came out and tried to use a coat hanger to unlock the door. Two other people drove up and tried to help. Three other people who drove up also tried. None were successful, but they tried to help. A woman in the laundry that was attached to the gas station offered to drive me back to Smyrna to get my set of spare keys. When I said that was too far for her to drive, she called a friend who had a slim jim car opener and drove there to get it. She brought it back and tried it. It didn't work. Another man, who happened to be a mechanic, drove up and tried to open the door with a sturdier coat hanger. He couldn't get it either. He said mine was the first car he'd run across that he couldn't open. An older gentleman then came by and let me use his phone after I remembered my mother had signed me up for AAA. He even offered to buy me lunch or something to drink while I waited for them to come. I said I was ok, but thanked him anyway. While I was sitting in the laundry waiting for AAA to call, the gentleman came back and handed me a sweater. He said he had driven to a christan run used clothing store down the road. I thought that was so nice of him, as I was extremely cold. (It was drizzly and my coat was locked in the car) So, people are good and I have an ugly blue sweater with brown leaves on it to prove it.

I'm not sure I deserve such kindness, though. I am an awful person where giving to charity is concerned. And by awful I don't mean that I don't donate money, but that they probably wish I didn't. Let me explain. I was driving home from ... somewhere one day and was listening to my mp3 player rather loudly when I saw the volunteer firefighters in my neighborhood on the side of the road trying to raise money. It's a worthy cause, so I roll down my window spend a few moments trying to get some money out of my wallet and hand it to them with a smile on my face. It was only after I drove away that I realized what had been blaring out of the speakers the entire time I was being philanthropic. The Bad Touch by the Bloodhound Gang. Yeah, It's kind of a dirty song. Yeah, I was listening to it. No, it's not typical of the music I listen to. But, it was what happened to be playing wile I was trying to do a good deed. It made me feel like a bad person. I forced my perversion on unsuspecting people. Good men and women who were just trying to raise money so they can keep me and the rest of the neighborhood safe. Yeah, I'm evil. I think the good karma from donating money was canceled out by the bad karma of assaulting someone's ears. But, on the upside, if I ever need to be rescued I've paid for it darn it. If they weren't offended and upset enough to let me burn, that is.

But let's go back to the themes of Words and Thanksgiving, shall we? I created a new word with my brother and cousins over the Thanksgiving break. Stresstipated. Shut up. It's a good word. Definitely should be added to the dictionary, or at least to the popular lexicon. My brother was saying how my cousin just held all his stress inside and didn't express it. I said that he was Stresstipated. I thought it was an apt expression. Everyone laughed and agreed that it was a good word anyway. So, yeah. Now I'm up to two words of my own invention. Flustrated and Stresstipated. Go me. I rock words socks off like sugar rocks mine. I think I'm going to make cookies tomorrow. Last Sunday was national cookie day, and I didn't make any. I was remiss.

Wednesday, November 3, 2010

A Storm Cloud Over Happy Town

So let's start with a picture shall we?
(this picture is in relation to a Baptist Church in Kansas that protested San Diego Comic Con)

God Hates? Really? ........ I don't think so. But it amuses me they do. Maybe it should make me sad. Or Mad. But instead, it just makes me want to laugh. I mean, the claim to "know" how and what god thinks or will or won't do ...... That's pretty ballsy really. Cause whether you're right OR wrong, you're kind of trying to take on the role of judge, jury, and executioner which, as far as I remember was reserved for one being only. The Supreme Creator, the Omnipotent One, the general Ruler of the Whole Universe. And I thought the All Powerful One kind of frowned on that. I sure wouldn't want to have to explain it anyway. I mean, is there really be any acceptable response when God asks "SOOOOOO..... Why did you think YOU knew how to judge MY creations better than I did?" -______- I'm thinking not.

That's why I try not to judge people. (except when it's funny, of course) God must be ok with it though cause I think I got rewarded by him the other day. And it was all thanks to Devil's Night, aka Halloween. You see, we didn't buy any candy so we had turned the porch light off. Which, as everyone knows, means don't go to the door and ask for candy. But apparently someone didn't get that Mommy Memo because lo and behold the doorbell rang and there they were. Costumed Sugar Vultures. Bags open and eager for candy. But what sugary goodness to give them? Not my ice cream, for sure. But, aside from some Splenda packets, there was nothing else sweet in the house. Just when we thought we might have to give the kids bags of carrots or something else equally unHalloweenish, I remembered all my granola/protein bars. They're sweet enough to not get our house rolled with toilet paper, right? I mean, they've got a token coating of chocolate. They also look enough like a candy bar to fool a kid into thinking they're suitable unhealthy. But what granola bars did I give them? My Luna Chocolate Peppermint bars. My favorite ones. I was kicking myself for giving them the good ones when some of the less yummy ones would have worked. Sigh.... But, I remembered Trick or Treating, and I always wanted to get good candy when I went. So, it was just instinct to give them the best that I could. Those kids darn well better have appreciated them though because I really wanted those stupid Peppermint bars. And you know what? :D I got them the next day. They went on some sort of Super Sale for 50 cents each. I bought like 15 bars. Woo Hoo! Thank you Karma.

But let me tell you what we were doing before the Trick or Treaters surprised us. My brother and I were watching a TV show about why Zombies are so popular. There are people who study that stuff. I'm not even kidding. For example, did you know that there is such a thing as the Zombie Research Society? Well, I didn't, but there is. And they're for serious. They have recommendations for what to do in the event of a Zombie attack. For starters, you should have a 72 hour survival kit. It should contain some form of portable shelter, a walkie talkie for communicating with the still non undead, and food. In the show, they didn't mention anything about projectile weapons, sharp implements, blunt objects, or chainsaws in your survival kit. Though I think they would be very useful items. (I'd go for the projectile weapon myself, wanting to keep as much distance between me and the Zombies as possible) I think the guy they interviewed had his priorities wrong. I mean, Let's face it, if you need a first aid kit you're already done for anyway. Cause everyone knows if you get any sort of cut or bite or scrape, basically if you bleed AT ALL you're in the Future Zombie's of America club. And as for shelter, come on, is there any pop up tent that's going to keep out zombies? Nope. The walkie talkie? Eh... you're better off just holding out by yourself cause other people are guaranteed to do something stupid that will probably get you killed. Group survival rate in Zombie movies? The odds aren't good. But the food I agree with. You should always have food to eat. Especially when under siege by Zombies.

I've got the perfect food to put in my zombie survival kit too. I saw it at WalMart. It's Spanish and made especially for Halloween. It's called Pan de Muerto. The name literally translates to Bread of the Dead. It's a loaf of sweet bread shaped like a large flower and covered in sugar crystals. It's so nice looking. It's a pretty dead bread. :D It's kind of large for an emergency bag, though. The box it came in was bigger than my head. But it looked yummy, and it would be situation appropriate for a zombie survival kit. Plus, I could chuck the box at any attacking Zombies. Yeah. So, what would you have in your Zombie Survival Kit?

Saturday, October 23, 2010

Floating Whale Feces Helps Keep the Ocean Alive

Ok. So we did make it to Dragoncon. Yipee! For those interested here is a Facebook album of the Parade with a few pictures of myself thrown in. Note the horns.

Just before I left for Dragoncon I learned how to lace myself into a corset. It's the best thing I've learned in years! YearS plural. For serious. I was so enamored with this new knowledge that I took advantage of the vendors room and doubled my corset menagerie. I now own a grand total of 4 corsets. Woot Woot! The White and Black leather striped one you see in the photo, a white embroidered one I will never wear to a wedding, an underbust pinstripe that I will rock with my pinstripe fedora, and a pink and tourqoise one that begs for something purple. I'd take pictures of them to show you, but I broke my camera. Or rather the car that ran over it broke it. yeah....

The first day of school was the last day of working life for my camera. Thank goodness the Garmin survived it. I blame the bag I borrowed from my stepmom. The bottomless pouch I put the garmin and camera in didn't help either. I took my MP3 player, the camera, and the garmin and ON PURPOSE to keep them SAFE I put them in my bag. And... then I walked out of the parking garage without another thought about them. Until a girl behind me stopped me and handed me something that had dropped out of said bag. It was poor James Brady, my Garmin. After thanking her I checked the bag and guess what I didn't find? Yup. The camera and MP3 player. Minutes of panic time as I retraced my steps through the garage to try to find my other valuables. Well, find them I did. In the middle of the driving lane. It didn't look good. And wonder of wonders I was right. It wasn't good. The MP3 player turned on and seemed to work. The camera turned on, but half the screen was lined with what would have been an otherwise lovely rainbow of stripes. It hasn't turned on since. Woe and Sadness. Woe and Sadness.

So School: For the next two years I will be studying to become a radiologic technician. I'll be takin X-rays of people, hee hee. I will not be radiating them into new forms of mutant life. (Unless they're really annoying, that is) But let me break it down for you so far,

Week 1: overwhelming and exciting and nerve wracking. Information overload. Change. Change. Change.

Week 2: Overwhelming. Self doubt filled paranoia culminating in a cry fest on the third day. So much information to remember. Get back into the study rhythm. Studying every free moment.

Week 3: First test done with. Still studying most every spare moment. Hospital staff and other students are all nice. Feeling ok. Will make it. Time is passing quickly. Come on two years. Hello good job?

Since I have no life other than school, work, and studying for school (aside from the time I'm writing this) I don't have much time to cook really. The horror! That saddens me more than losing the camera does. For reals. I ended up deciding that frozen dinners would have to constitute a large part of my diet for the next two years. I know, I know. The shame! One does need a place to put said frozen dinners though, so I bought a small chest freezer. It's in the garage now filled with frozen dinners, some hot peppers from the garden, and a loaf of pumpernickle bread. Oh and Ice cream. Yeah.... there is ice cream. Lots of ice cream. I can't have a freezer without ice cream pints in it. Oh no no no. That doesn't happen in Adamarieville. It would be like having a milkshake without milk. Not possible. And don't be all smart and try to prove it's possible, cause it aint I say. So, I currently have.... oh..... about 20 ice pints of frozen goodness. Hells Yeah.

Sunday, August 29, 2010

In a Crocodillian Display of Love

Recommendations for Garmin names are no longer being accepted. (Not that anyone suggested anything, but hey that's fine) I have christened it James Brady. (well, I would have Christened it except the Catholic church wouldn't make an inanimate albeit electronic object the subject of an important religious service. At least I don't think they would, I didn't ask.) But I digress. In picking the name I had to take into account that this Garmin is just like me. It gets its rights and lefts confused. Seriously. I wish I were kidding because it's not a good trait in a navigation device. Nope, Nope, Nope. I know it gets confused because instead of telling me to turn right onto the little gravel road that led to the catfish restaurant it told me to turn left into a grass field with an abandoned barn. Yeah.... I'll have to watch out for that in future. So, because it's just like me, it needs a name in keeping with our similarities. In that spirit I named it James because of James May from the British Car show Top Gear. I happen to like him and his long hair, but more importantly, he was driving fairly fast along a back country gravel road and said to the passenger beside him "Oh, I'm sorry, I forgot where I was going for a moment. Ha ha." That would be just like me. If I were driving fast down a back country road I'd forget where I was going too. So, that's why I picked the name James. I picked the second part of the name, Brady, because of it's Irish origin and meaning. It's an Irish surname transferred to unisex forename use, and derived from an Anglicized form of Gaelic Ó Brádaigh which means "descendant of Brádach," hence "large-chested." That name seemed to fit as well. So, James Brady and I will be going to a lot of places together. He even helped me find the place I needed to go to take my drug test today. So, yea for James Brady! I will forgive your occasional lapses in directional judgment.

But lets talk about a naming fail now, shall we? It comes by way of the Ball Glass Company. The company was started by a group of brothers with the last name Ball. They sold canning jars and have since branched out into all sorts of canning equipment and paraphernalia. Ready for the name fail? It's the name of their canning cookbook. It's the "Ball Blue Book of Preserving". Yeah. They really ... sigh... No. I can't do it. There's a great pun here. But, I won't go there. (Points for anyone who does though)

One place I really want to go is Dragoncon. It's this weekend in Atlanta, Ga. Awesome science fiction/fantasy convention. I look forward to it every year we've gone. We've planned it for a while now. Booked the rooms, bought the tickets. Only problem, we didn't plan on my brother being out of town and not able to watch the dogs. It's too late to kennel them and I'm not sure who, if anyone, we can get to watch them. I have no idea what we're going to do, but I hope we figure something out because I'd hate for any one of us to miss it. We'll see what the weekend brings, and where we'll be. The idea of not going makes me sad though.

In an effort to not think sad thoughts, I'll end with a funny one. It's about bulldogs. If you've ever heard me talk about dogs you know that I have a soft spot for Bulldogs. I like French Bulldogs with their little ugly puckered faces, but I especially like English Bulldogs with their fat wrinkled waddle walk. However, because of the breeding done to create such stocky .... stock the dogs have massive health problems. In talking about English Bulldogs their critics say that current health issues including breathing problems such as asthma and breeding problems such as "the need for artificial insemination, due to male ineptness and lack of drive" need to be addressed. Sigh... poor boy Bulldogs. ... Poor girl bulldogs.

Wednesday, August 25, 2010

Evisceration does not float my boat.

I got a Garmin. Yes Siree. I am now the proud owner of an electronic locator. Flight of the Navigator time, go! (only without the flying and time travel) So now, presumably, I will always know how to get where I'm going. Well, I won't know, but my garmin will. I may wreck getting there, but I'll know where I am. Very handy piece of information, that. You know, I should name it if I'm going to put my life in its hands. Wait. It doesn't have hands..... I hope this isn't an ill omen. Mayhap a nice naming ceremony complete with offerings of cute sticker adornments would appease it and distract it from its limbless state. My computers name is Llewelyn (welsh), I named my new wireless printer "the Scottsman". I'm thinking something Irish for the Garmin. Any suggestions?

My cousin and I bought each other shirts last time I came down to KY. I bought her one that had a picture of a peanut butter jar and a jelly jar and above them it said, "You complete me" which fits her perfectly as she is addicted to peanut butter and jelly sandwiches like geeks are to the internet. She bought me one that said "I'm not short, my temper is" Really cute. (The shirt, not my temper that is) They had a ton of neat shirts. One of them was a shirt that had a picture of a marshmallow, graham cracker, and a chocolate bar and it said "Smores than just friends". It was a scratch and sniff shirt. I repeat, Scratch. And. Sniff. Who wants to wear a scratch and sniff shirt? I certainly don't want people coming up and scratching and sniffing on me. That's just weird. For serious.

Speaking of things I bought while in KY.... um.... I bought one of the strangest impulse items evah. I stopped at a little retro/vintage store halfway between Ky and TN and I saw a 50's/60's Baby Blue Fridge/Freezer and Gas Stove. So cute! I looked at them. Drooled and Dreamed a little. Couldn't resist asking the price. $200 for both of them. He said they worked when he bought them 6 weeks ago. Working Fridge and Stove for $200? Sigh..... So I bought them. They were cute and food/kitchen related. I couldn't resist. I called my grandmother and told her about them and asked if I could store them in her junk room. Her voice had a happy tone when she said "yes, of course" I could. She's such an enabler. I think I'm like her reincarnation. If someone can be reincarnated before they die, that is. yeah.... So, now I am the proud owner of two large appliances that I won't be able to use for at least two years and might cost me a fair amount of money to get working when I can. What!? Don't judge me.

Judge these people instead, for they are truly sick and strange.

Koreans have no taste buds

I mean, just kill me now. Corndogs dipped in Chocolate. What disturbs me most is one of the comments. "When do you eat it? Is it dessert or dinner?" I'll tell you when you eat it. Never! Never, I say!

I think that is all for now. That is definitely all. Nothing can follow Chocolate Corndogs.

Tuesday, August 10, 2010

Tomato vs Tomatoe or in other words Happy Birthday Daniel

I'd like to talk about the Pomeranians I live with again. Do you remember in the last post I told you how my dad was training them to eat humans? Well, this time I'd like to talk about what comes out of them rather than what goes in. And specifically WHERE they release it at. I sleep on the couch, so there is no door to close and no room to lock them out of. Now, this does not normally present a problem as I love the fur balls and actually like that sometimes they want to sleep near me. However....there are exceptions. Such as the other morning. I woke up, pulled back the covers, and got up to get ready for work. When I came back to the living room to take my covers off the couch I reached my hand down and right into a wet spot. My first thought was, water? Please let this be water. Nope. It wasn't. It was pee. Dog pee. One of them had peed on my covers. Peed right where I sleep! On something that probably still smelled like me! Thank goodness I wasn't still under those covers. They haven't peed on my yet..... Yet. I'm just waiting for the morning that I'm forced awake sputtering and trying to catch my breath because I'm drowning in a puddle of pee. That'll be the day. (The day the dogs are put in the kitchen with the baby gate across the doorway that is)

As I am not protected, yet, against nightly fountains of dog pee, I am also not protected from alien attacks on my brain. But a woman I saw last night at Wal Mart is! I was checking out (had to buy some canning stuff for salsa) and I saw a woman in another checkout line ahead of me with something on her head that I can only describe as a gold shower cap. And when I say it was gold I mean it shined, as in it was reflective enough to flag down helicopters. It was like she took tin foil, spray painted it, and stuck it on her head. It reminded me of the movie "Signs" where Joaquin Phoenix's character puts on a tin foil helmet so that the aliens can't read his thoughts. Now, I'm not sure why this woman might have suspected an alien mind flayer attack on her at 8pm on a Monday evening in Antioch, TN, but she's protected from it if it happens. Either that or she's worried she'll get murdered by a drug cartel and her body discarded in a rain forest where the gold shower cap will help searchers find her corpse. Either way....

Speaking of fashion, I've decided to embark on a little something I call Operation Bikini Body. I recently went on our family vacation to Dale Hollow Lake on the KY/TN border and, as it is a lake destination we did spend a large portion of our time swimming. Now, despite the massive amount of time I spent in the water I didn't have, and haven't had for a few years, a decent and proper swimsuit. So I've decided that next year I'm going to buy one. Not just any swimsuit though. A bikini. I've never been able to wear a bikini before. Heck I've never even come close to being able to wear one. I've always been the chubby girl. Compared to my cousins I always will be. But, I think maybe just maybe I could pull one off. And if I'm ever going to 1) be brave enough to wear one and 2) have a body that will look decent in one I'd better do it now cause I'm only getting older and with each passing year my body is only going to either fall down or fill in so it's now or never baby. So I guess I'll have to hit the gym and lay off the ice cream pints and hope that a year will be enough time to accomplish my mission of being Bikini Worthy. I've been looking at different suits and found a few I like. What do you think?

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Of course, since it is a family vacation and my mother would have an issue, which is putting it mildly, with my wearing a bikini in public I might also buy a one piece suit to wear. Enter the following:

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Totally proper and appropriate, eh? Much better than the shirt and shorts I have been wearing, yes? So .... Operation Bikini Body, GO!

Thursday, June 24, 2010

Sometimes Yaks Kick

I think my dad is inadvertently training our three Pomeranians to become voracious attack dogs that rip off large chunks of flesh from their human victims. It all started with Limburger Cheese. Dad bought some. Do you know what Limburger Cheese is? I didn't know what it was, only that it was supposed to have a rather ..... strong ..... smell and, as such, was not a very popular cheese. But, in the spirit of culinary adventure, and because I love cheese on principle and in general, I tried some when dad was eating it. I sniffed it first. It wasn't pleasant. It smelled, but I couldn't decide what it smelled like. As I put it into my mouth I tried to get used to and past the olfactory overload, but I couldn't. I did try. But I didn't like it. There was just something about it that was, nasty and rank. I found out what. Turns out the bacteria used to make Limburger Cheese is the same bacteria in human skin that causes body odor. Yeah.... that's why it smells bad. BO has taken physical form in Limburger Cheese. That explains why I don't like it. But ... Dad likes it. He loves it, in fact. And, apparently, so do the dogs. He was feeding them little bits of it periodically as he was eating it and they were gobbling it down and leaning forward for more. They do have a good sense of smell, I'm sure they could tell they were eating something that smelt like humans. They're developing a taste for us. I'm almost scared to go to sleep. I might wake up missing body parts. Then again, the dogs like me. I think. Maybe they'll go after someone else to get a fix. But there's something more worrisome here. Dad likes the cheese. That means he's developing a taste for humans. He's a future cannibal. If you ever get stranded on an island with a group of strangers, you better hope he's not one of them. In fact, you should probably ask anyone you plan to spend time alone with if they like Limburger Cheese. Just as a precautionary measure, you understand.

But let's speak of Ice Cream now, shall we? Ice cream is made of yummy yummy cold sugarey goodness. No one would want to be a cannibal if they had ice cream. In fact, I'm pretty sure even zombies would choose ice cream over brains. Ice Cream is that Awesome. I believe I've spoken before of my love for the frozen confection, yes? Yes. Well, last Sunday I was able to indulge my ice cream fantasy in an all you can eat ice cream event known as the Martha OBrien Ice Cream Crankin. Sponsored by Purity Dairies, local teams create ice cream flavors that are then judged by a panel of "ice cream experts". The winning flavor gets mass produced by the dairy and sold in stores the following spring. But here's the best part, after parting with a $13 entrance fee (it is supposed to be a charity fund raiser after all), the public gets to go around and sample as many flavors of ice cream as their stomachs can hold. I had grand aspirations of tasting every flavor available. I didn't succeed. I wish my stomach was bigger or my dairy tolerance was greater. I know I ate at least two pints worth of ice cream. Near the end, I was partially doubled over like a hunchback from stomach pain. I ate so much that I approached the vomit threshold. I had to stop though. I didn't want to cross that threshold and end up in the fetal position on the ground. Before I gave up my goal of being a human pinata stuffed with ice cream I tried some wonderful flavors though. Here are the standouts:

Triple Ginger - ice cream made with ground ginger, fresh ginger, and candied ginger
Mexican Tequila Vanilla - vanilla ice cream flavored with tequila and real vanilla beans
Wildflower Honey - made with tennessee wildflower honey
Very Lemon - tart just sweet enough ice cream with real lemon flavor
Peanut Butter and Jelly - peanut butter ice cream with a jelly and graham cracker swirl
Nerdy Grapalicious - Grape Ice Cream with Nerds

It got me thinking of what Ice Cream flavors I'd make if I were ever to give up running around like a mad woman trying to stuff as much ice cream as possible into my mouth (not likely). I think I'd make the following:

Captain Morgan's Hot Buttered Rum
Elvis's Nanners and Nuts - Banana Ice Cream with a Peanut Butter Swirl and Honey Roasted Peanuts
Thyme for Ice Cream - Thyme flavored Ice Cream
Sesame Crunch - Sesame Ice Cream with Sesame Crunch Candy bits
Mojito - Lime Mint Ice Cream
Summer Fun - Cotton Candy Ice Cream with Nerds, Pop Rocks, and Sprinkles

Hours after I got home I was having minor ice cream cramps. It felt like I really was having ice creams baby. Like the shirt says:
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Dear world,

Send me a man who would to wear these John Fluevog John Wayne Spotted Pony shoes:
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Thank you

Sunday, June 6, 2010

Looking at a man's car is like looking at a man naked, only more pleasant

My insurance company thinks I was a child whore. Oh yeah. They think I ignored my Mormon moral upbringing and Got. It. ON. while in my early pubescent years. They're pretty serious about it too. They sent me an official letter and everything. They didn't outright call me a pedophilic prostitute, but they did tell me that I could get a discount on insurance for my teen driver. Ummm......what? I'm only 30. ( 25 if we're going by what I look like, and 5 if we're going by how I sometimes act) The only way a teen driver could eligibly be added to my insurance is if I had spewed out a slimy pink human shaped creature from my not fully developed womb while in my early teen years myself. I'd also have had to have sex. And given the fact that I was a textbook specimen of geeky chub fest in my formative years, the requisite activity for me spawning anything other than pimples seems more unlikely than immaculate conception. I guess it's kind of nice to know my insurance company thinks that I (yes, I Rolly Polly Ada Potada) could have attracted an equally nerdy social outcast to mate with. Or, rather, I would try to take it as a compliment if they weren't calling my ability to form intelligent decisions into question by implying I was stupid enough to have sex with a boy barely out of junior high school. Way to go insurance company. Way to go.

Of course, if my parents and church leaders had wanted to really make sure I'd never get "in trouble" by becoming "with child" at a tender young age they could always have made me wear a chastity belt. And before you scoff and declare that an impossibility in this oh so enlightened day and age, know that there are modern day manufacturers of chastity belts. Small artisan crafters who keep alive the ancient traditions. Well, perhaps not so traditional as most of the current wearers of modern style chastity belts are male. Yes, male. Don't question me here. In fact, you should probably stop thinking about it. Really. Also, I know there is a debate as to when and if chastity belts even existed or were mostly just a figment of the Victorian Eras fascination with promoting the idea of Medieval Brutality. But, let's just accept their credibility for the sake of this discussion, shall we? So...... We were discussing the what ifs of my child self having to wear an anti intercourse contraption. Thanks to Wikipedia I have an example of just such a device for you.
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How's that for effective, eh? Nothing is going to be put in there. Noooothhhiiinnnggg....... No matter how much a woman or her prospective partner might want it to, "It" ain't gonna happen. No guy no matter how young or stupid no matter how drunk or daring is going to chance that. It even discourages self service. It's more effective than if you just encased the whole happy area in metal and filled it in with cement. Word. And don't get me started on what metal would do to skin, even with a layer of fabric between them, in the cold winter or hot summer months. I'm pretty sure it's too painful to even think about.

Speaking of painful, I think the women of my family are going to end up in jail for killing someone someday. For Serious. I went back to Kentucky to visit my mother and her side of the family, the whole extended Barnett clan. Somehow, not sure how really, we started talking about mace. My mother, who is the gentlest calmest least violent and most passive woman I know, burst out with "You know, I'd like to have some mace" Just matter of fact. Like she was saying she needed to buy some new laundry detergent. Not that I think it's a bad idea. I don't. It's just.... from my mother?!? It's like a bizzaro alternate universe, like the world suddenly decided to spin in the opposite direction. Of course, if my mom were ever to be put into a position in which to use mace she's probably be so shocked and flustered that she'd forget she even had it or she'd take it out but forget how to use it. I can picture someone laughing at her if she tried to mace them. As I'm picturing this and digesting this startling bit of information, my brother mentions tasers and the different kinds of tasers and how they work. My cousin cheerfully chimes in that she'd actually like to have a taser. She's so sweet and nice and laughs so easily, I'm just trying to picture her smiling and laughing as someone flops and flails around at her feet wires protruding from their seizure ridden body. The thing is, I can picture my cousin tasing someone. But this girl is also someone who, by her own admission, is clumsy. I can also picture her accidentally tasing herself. Then, to beat all, my brother mentions that they (whoever they are) are coming out with a police grade riot stick with taser attached. It's basically a rod that you pull out, flip like a new years eve party favor to extend it, and on the tip of the stick is a functioning taser that electrocutes on contact. It's more effective at breaking bones than a steel baseball bat, and it can shock someone into submission in an instant. :D Can you tell that I was enamored of it? Yeah, I wanted one. And I said so. Now, if I were to get a hold of one of these babies I might actually use it, which would be a bad thing because I'd probably really use it. There might not be much of a body left for the coroner to cart away. I have a lot of suppressed rage., If you never hear from me or my female relatives again we've either killed ourselves or someone else. We probably shouldn't be sold any self defense devices. Shop owners take note.

Monday, May 3, 2010

You may be the universe’s butt puppet, but I’m it’s right hand fist of fate and tonight accounts are coming due

Lately I've been going to a nearby gym. And by "going to" I mean I've actually been inside and used the exercise equipment, not drove past it on my way to the donut shop next door. :) Anyway, I used a machine that I'd never used before called an Elliptical Machine. Supposedly, an elliptical trainer is "a stationary exercise machine used to simulate walking or running without causing excessive pressure to the joints, hence decreasing the risk of impact injuries." Decrease injuries my butt! Do you know what happens to your legs if you've never used one of these babies before? Do you!? It turns them into al dente pasta. You're technically able to walk, but at any moment your legs go wobbly and try to fold under you like an accordion. Yeah..... I had to explain to people at work why I was walking weird the next day. I was seriously afraid my legs would buckle and I would fall down on the floured bakery floor at any moment. So, knowing that, you'd think I'd stay far far away from the elliptical machine, wouldn't you? Maybe avoid the gym alltogether. Or at least avert my eyes when I walk by the row of elliptical machines in a vain effort to pretend they didn't exist. I mean, why would anyone willingly do something to their body that, were it done by someone else in a dank basement, might be considered a mild form of torture? Well..... don't think less of me, but .... it's supposed to tone your butt. Yes. You heard right. I'd endure pain to look pretty. Yes, friends, I use those machines every time I go to the gym now. What!? Don't judge me. I'm not a masochist, I'm just vain.

As a addendum to the above, Going through a car wash was like going through a torture chamber to me. I got nauseous. Seriously.

Now, despite my propensity for exercise induced pain, I'm not an idiot, really. I'm not. But, apparently a friend of mine (should I even admit that it's my best friend?) said he could picture me eating, or at least tasting, insulation. -____- Have you ever seen insulation? I hadn't till a while ago. Now, yes. Insulation looks like giant human sized slabs of fluffy pink cotton candy. And, granted, if a ubernormous cloud of cotton candy in any color or flavor suddenly appeared in front of me I would indeed bury my head in it then do my darndest to crawl all the way inside just so I could eat my way out again. But I know that insulation is not, in fact, cotton candy. I would not eat it. Ever. I wouldn't even "taste" it. There is no temptation to put it in my mouth for even a millisecond. None. Despite it's resemblance to something that is, it is not edible. I know this. But, apparently, my friend thinks the temptation would be too much for me. He really was convinced I might eat insulation. He said he could see me trying it. This makes me sad.

So I'm going to change topics now, cause I'd rather not dwell on the fact that my best friend thinks I might be a contender for an Honorable Mention come Darwin Awards time. Hm......Have you seen the movie Avatar? I just watched it last night. Yes, I know. I was supposed to jump on the James Cameron bandwagon much earlier. Ah well. I'm bumping along on it now. Does anyone else think a sequel is in order? No, not because the movie was so ultimately awesome. But because, I mean, come on .... Do you think a big mining company would really go away and leave trillions, notice the plural form, of dollars worth of anything uncollected? Um, NOOOOoooooooo........ The natives would be going down baby. They might have won the first volley with their flying reptiles and hammerhead rhinos, but you can bet anything worth anything that the mining company would come back. Especially since the "genius" Hero's, aka the only humans who actually care about the natives and want to help them, stayed behind on the planet leaving the money hungry company puppet master and the mean resentful military combatants as the only ones who went back to earth. Hence, the only ones who could tell the rest of the world what happened on the planet. Do you really think they would call a press conference and willingly admit to perpetuating genocide? I think not. I think they'd tell everyone how savage and dangerous the natives are. What a threat they pose. How it wold be in earth's best interest to eradicate them. Spin it baby. He who rules the airwaves rules the world. And gets a green light to destroy others too. I'm just sayin. Oh yeah... I guess I should have put SPOILER ALERT before most of this paragraph, huh? Oops. Sorry bout that.

In other media news, I've gotten a new phone complete with new phone number. I'll be calling, texting, or messaging those of you who are on my old phone list so you can have my new number. The rest of you, whoever that might be, are welcome to message me and ask for the number. Most likely I'll give it to you cause it's probably just an oversite that you're not programmed into my old phone. Probably. Maybe. Unless you're a real freaky freak. In that case, wanna hang out? :D

Wednesday, March 24, 2010

Like Blowing Jellyfish out of your Nose

Please help me people. I have a problem. (Ok, I have several problems most of which would probably be considered psychological and quite possibly pathological, but let's not get into my desire to steal other people's candy right now, um K?)

I'm trying to use up the contents of my pantry. That sentence, written by a normal person might not be so unusual. But I collect food like a hooker collects disease. I have a lot of stuff. So much that I forgot half of what was in the dark recesses of my kitchen pantry. So, being a lover of lists and order I took everything out, spread it on my table and cataloged it along with any corresponding expiration dates, of course. Then I put the items back in the pantry. Everything is ready and waiting to be taken out, opened, and eaten. One thing that must be used, read it's out of date already but I'm chancing it because I hate to throw food away, is a jar of pickled ginger. I've already used about 2/3 of the jar on asian rice paper wraps and rice noodle soup. What should I use the rest of the jar for? I'm open to suggestions. Seriously, suggest something. While you're at it you could also suggest uses for habenero ketchup, panko, and pomegranate molasses.

Also, If you’ve ever segmented a grapefruit for someone other than yourself, then you know it's love. True Love, Baby.

Also, Also, I prayed to God not to let Zombies attack me. True Story.

Also, Also, Also, without the protection of it's midget condom my finger looks like an albino cave fish.

Saturday, March 20, 2010

Nuns are People Too

Ok. So Here's a March Madness Bracket I can get into:

I was talking to some of the people I work with and we were talking about marrying rich men, specifically marrying a doctor. I said I wouldn't want to do that, have never wanted to, because doctors, and many men who work in high paying demanding professions, have to be away from home (on call or on business trips) so much. To me, that defeats the purpose of being married, doesn't it? I mean, if you marry someone, you marry them because you want to be with them, right? If I ever get married I want to spend time with my husband not his money. Almost every married person I talk to advises me to marry for money instead of love if I have the opportunity though. This saddens and confuses me.

Aside from marrying doctors we also talked about Donna Simpson. The woman who wants to go from 600 some lbs to 1,000 lbs. We were talking about how dangerous it is to be that heavy and how she very well might die after reaching that 1,000 lbs. Someone mentioned that if she dies they'd have to cremate her because she's so big. Not true, I said. She could be buried, but she'd need a custom coffin and two grave plots. I was then told that I'm mean and probably going to hell. But really, I was just being Pragmatic and realistic, Honest, even. Doesn't the bible say thou shalt not lie? Well, I didn't.

Friday, March 12, 2010

Bear Minimun Injun Ears

I was reading a Kentucky Home and Farm magazine and came across an article about how the FFA (Future Farmers of America) and Campbells Soup Co. are working jointly to restore old barns and farms across Kentucky. The article seemed admirable if unremarkable till I came across this quote: "Campbell's Soup has an initiative of educating people about where their food comes from -- they're trying to get rid of the stigma that food comes from a can"
Oh? Really? Something tells me that it's not a sound business model to educate people enough that they realize how awful your product is and how much better it would be if you didn't buy it but made it instead. I mean, if people realize soup doesn't com in a can Campbell's is in trouble. Unless Campbell's wants people to stop buying their product. Hmm???

In other news, here are some pictures. Try not to let the sheer stupidity rub off on you. Just remember, the world is a funny but stupid place. Enjoy it before it kills you.

So, what's the difference between Ground and Mechanically Separated? I mean ... really? Is the word "ground" too hard to understand? Did Pride Farm really feel it necessary to specify that Turkey's don't chew themselves up into pre-ground oval shapes before they're killed?
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I'm going to buy this. It's such a great deal.
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Do you go to EKU for your Higher Education? Might want to brush up on your Hamburger Flipping skills. Here's a sample of the writing/reading comprehension skills of current students.

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Chucky Love You Produce of USA. I'm speechless.
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End Stupidity. Begin Awesomeness. Go!

Now here's a gem. I spotted it as a printout on PETA's website. (Don't remember how I ended up there) I couldn't resist printing it out. How much trouble do you think i'd get into if I taped this up right on the wall above the refrigerated seafood section of Wal-Mart?
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Win indeed. ... That's not sarcasm. I Seriously love this. If someone let me dress their kid up, I'd do this.
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And in other news, I just hit the Ben and Jerry's jackpot today. We got in new flavors including Boston Cream Pie, Peanut Brittle, and Milk and Cookies! Whee!!!! And, and AND ... we have other flavors too that we haven't gotten in before. It's like an ice cream treasure trove. The sugar gods were smiling down on me. I feel blessed. What's that? ..... Oh yeah....... Ummmm...... You remember when I said I was giving up sugary dessert like stuff for Lent, do you? Well....I'm eating sugar again. No! No. You're wrong. I didn't fail at Lent. I just ... chose not to succeed.

Saturday, March 6, 2010

The Prison House of My Disposition

I think you have so much going for you. You're intelligent and smart. Yes, I know that statement is repetitive. It's warranted because it's true. I wish you believed it. I wish you believed in yourself. You're smarter than most of those around you. You know that much, right? You're just as smart as anyone else too, you know. You could do almost anything you put your mind to. Well, maybe not being a jockey. You'd need to be munchkin sized for that. But you certainly could do more than what you're doing. Your mind is being wasted where it's at. You aren't being able to use it for more than the mundane, and you are not mundane.

You're witty and funny. Your sense of humor makes me happy. I can't help smiling when I'm around you. I light up like a Christmas Tree. Maybe your sense of humor isn't for everyone, but it's perfect for me. I understand you, and you understand me. No one else around here knows exactly when I'm joking and when I'm serious and can play along so well. The more I talk to you the more I want to talk. The rhythm of our conversation flows easily.

You're nice, considerate, and a generally good person. Well, then again, I guess that's not entirely true. While you are always a genuinely good person, (do you know how rare that is, by the way?) you're only nice and considerate to certain people and only when you want to be. But I don't care that you're not always nice to everyone. You've always been nice to me. You've always helped me when I needed it. I actually like that about you. The fact that you're not overly nice to everyone makes it easy to tell when you like someone and when you don't. People know where they stand with you.

I think you're a wonderful, amazing person. I want to shake you and repeat that over and over until you believe it. You should believe it. It's true.

This is what's in my heart for you. This is what I say to you every time I silently walk by.

Wednesday, February 24, 2010

Socks up knowledge like a Sponge

Want to know something that makes me happy? Mini food! Not real food. Oh, No No No. We're not talking white castle burgers vs. quarter pounders here. I mean fake food. Plastic replicas of whole meals on trays. So cute! I picked up an addition to my collection last Saturday, or more accurately, I started a collection as you need at least two of something to say you "collect" them. Look, Look. See, see see!

I'm not really sure what kind of soup it is. Clam Chowder maybe? I really like the peanut butter bunny design on the bread slice. And I adore the little odd triangle milk carton thingy. And, and, and (excited hyper state here) look at the texture of the orange, it even has, well, texture! Seriously. Cutest. Things. Evah.

Note that there is no dessert on the above plate. No sugary calorie laden frosting covered chocolate filled fried mountain of diabetic coma in food form with ice cream on the side. More's the pity. And such is my fate for the next 36 days. I've given up desserts for Lent. I'm not catholic and I've never celebrated Lent before, but I thought I'd give it a go. Especially since over the holidays I overloaded my poor stomach with so much food I was afraid I might have turned myself into a diabetic. I'm not even kidding. (I seriously had my moms cousin come over with his glucometer and test my blood sugar) So, I'm on day 4 and doing surprisingly well. No withdrawals. No shaking. No violent tendencies, manic outbursts, or fits of depression. Not that I've started eating super healthy. I'm not all brown rice all the time. I'm just not eating dessert like food stuffs. We'll see how long I last. I'm hopeful. Ask me in two weeks how I'm doing. If I try to bite your head off, literally maybe if you have any sort of frosting laden crumb clinging to your chin, please stuff a doughnut down my throat. One with white fluffy filling and lots of sprinkles on it. Thank you.

And speaking of non healthy, I've heard about something perfect for my non dessert regimen. I don't normally eat much fast food, but KFC has come up with a new sandwich called the "Double Down" that I would rock in a heart beat. And after eating this there really is no guarantee how many times your heart will beat before succumbing to the greased calories shooting through your arteries. The Double Down "consists of two fried chicken fillets wrapped around bacon, cheese and Colonel's sauce" Read that again. Fried Chicken, Bacon, Cheese, and sauce. ... Let it sink in. ... Light Bulb! That's right. No bread. The "bun" is chicken, the "patty" is bacon, the "cheese" is well ... cheese. Read all about it here. I would so try that. I wonder if you have to sign a health waiver first? No, seriously, there are much worse things you could eat. Well, Ok, not much, but there are worse.....

And if you eat one of those protein on crackwiches and have a heart attack, you better hope that I don't walk by you because I will just leave you sitting there half in your seat half out of it with your hands clutched to your chest and on the verge of death. Not because I want you to die, but because I will not notice you. I just don't pay attention to people. That's seriously what happened to my mom and I last Wednesday when we went out to eat. We walked in the first set of double doors and I proceeded to go into the second set, but mom stopped. SHE noticed the woman slumped in the booth with her body leaning heavily to one side, her mouth hanging open, and her eyes glazed over. She looked very bad. I was afraid she was dead. Mom propped her up and kept trying to talk to her. I went inside to tell them to call an ambulance. Luckily there were two EMTs in the restaurant and I have no idea who told them about the woman, but within a minute they were there with her and were getting their instruments out of their truck. The lady snapped out of it and started to look better, her color came back, she started mumbling. They took her away to the hospital but, until then, it was scary. Mom said it was the closest she's ever come to thinking she'd have to do CPR on someone. I really would rather not be present when someone dies. Death just makes me .... I can't even describe it. But I'd rather not have to. So, Death, Mr. or Mrs. Grimm Reaper, please don't come and take anyone when I'm nearby. Please? If you don't, you can have my dessert. Well, at least for the next 36 days. After that, all bets are off baby.

Sunday, January 31, 2010

Honey Cheddar Scones

One of my favorite YouTube videos got "removed by the user". It made me sad. In an effort to cheer myself up, I searched for similar videos. Here they are.

I think people are being tortured in the background. Grandma is supervising the torture. So, what does a hungry grandmother do while watching someone's final death throes? Eat chips, of course.

This is elder abuse. Giving your grandmother a dry fortune cookie then taunting her that her glass of milk is empty! I'm calling the abuse hotline now.

Why are old asian couple's eating together so cute? It's one of the mysteries of life.

My new favorite Grandma Eating video. Check it. It Rocks!

Cake or Death?

To specific unnamed persons, I'd like to say something.

First. To you, Mrs. Dieting and trying to eat "good". No, Peanut butter is not healthy. Peanut butter does have calories (a lot of them) and it is not good for you (even when you eat it on celery). You refused the cookies I brought into work because you were trying to eat healthier. I wasn't insulted that you refused them for that reason. That's an admirable goal. I can respect that. Imagine my confusion, then, when you pulled out a celery stick and smeared peanut butter on it. Your attempt to justify snubbing my cookies by claiming you were trying to eat healthy crumbled right then. Yes, you were eating "reduced fat" peanut butter. But, um, even reduced fat peanut butter is still over 50% fat. And those three tablespoons of peanut butter you put on your celery stick? You could have eaten three of my cookies for the same amount of calories. Three. I saw your wistful sidelong glances at the Tupperware container. Hope you enjoyed that celery and peanut butter, but you should have taken the cookies.

Second, to you, Mrs. Person trying to save space by smooshig delicate things on top of more delicate things. I told you that those packages of cherry tomatoes wouldn't be able to be stocked on the shelf because they were already full. What I meant by that wasn't that it would be impossible to stuff any more on the store shelf because it was already crammed full to overflowing. No. I meant that if you put any more out the weight from them would crush the tomatoes already on the shelf. They are delicate and well, smooshable, after all. I guess I didn't communicate that very well though, because you said "hmm... in that case" and proceeded take the tomatoes out of their protected box and dump them on top of other tomatoes and smoosh them down so they would all fit into one box, well.... it kind of invalidated our entire previous conversation. It made me want to take a vow of silence.

But, Let's focus on something for everyone, shall we? It's weird and wacky holidays time! Yea!!

February is:
Fabulous Florida Strawberry Month
Grapefruit Month
Library Lovers Month
Marijuana Awareness Month
Condom Month
Weddings Month
Spunky Old Broads Month

3rd-6th is International Snow Sculpting Week
7th-13th is Jell-O week
8th-14th is International Flirting Week
14th-20th is National Pancake Week

1st - Working Naked Day
2nd - Groundhog Day
5th - Wear Red Day also National Nutella Day
9th - Read is the Bathtub Day
16th - Mardi Gras
19th - Chocolate Mint Day
28th - International Sword Swallowers Day

Jus a few of my impressions of this month's holidays: Yea grapefruit! Who the hell gets married in February?. Is it marijuana month because they want people to stay away from it or do it? Same goes for condoms. I know I'm going to be making a big old King Cake for the 16th. Not sure how to celebrate the 28th though....

In conclusion Ladies and Jellyspoons.....

I'd like to present you with a few jems gleaned from watching the discovery channel:

1. Suckling of a Kings nipples was a sign of submission in the Iron Age.

2. In Holland disabled people can get a government grant that pays for sex up to 12 times a year.

And here's a phrase from an internet article:

1. some of the highest rated companies to work for also pay the best. (um.... Duh)

Thursday, January 21, 2010

This campaign is as big as Martha Coakley in a diner

From: a wallis
To: Zach Olsen
Subject: Battery Compatibility Issue and Possible Exchange/Refund Resolution

Hi there. I spoke with Jordan today about a problem with a battery I purchased from

I ordered a replacement battery for my Creative Zen Vision M MP3 player from your website. The description for the battery I ordered said that it was compatible with that particular player. However, upon receipt of the battery, it is plain to see that it will not fit into the player.

I have enclosed several pictures for your convenience.

Picture 1 - this shows that I indeed to have a Creative Zen Vision M 30gb MP3 player.

Picture 2 - this shows that the battery description on your website states that the battery is indeed compatible with the Creative Zen Vision M 30gb player.

Picture 3 - this shows that the battery i received is a completely different size than the battery that is currently in the player.

Picture 4 - this shows that even if i tried to connect the battery I received, it is too long to fit into the player.

The website I am using for instructions on how to disassemble and install a new battery for the Creative Zen Vision M player state that the battery specifications are as follows:
Battery: The battery inside the Vision:M is made by SKC (LPCS285385) and is rated at 1250mAH at 3.7v and is 2.8 x 53 x 85 mm; taking up 25g of the ZVM’s total weight.

I did not start to take apart my player until I received the battery from you. Erego, I did not discover the size difference between the batteries until it was too late. Since your website states that the battery I ordered was compatible with the player I didn't think it necessary to compare the size measurements. I wish I had.

I really am at a loss as to what to do. The battery i ordered will not work in my player. Since the battery that you sell which is supposed to be compatible with my player obviously isn't, I am unsure as to how or if you can provide a battery that actually will fit into the player. I would prefer a replacement battery. However, if you can not provide a battery that is the correct size, I suppose I will have to take a refund.

Thank you for your time and hopefully help.

From: Zach Olsen
To: a wallis
Subject: RE: Battery Compatibility Issue and Possible Exchange/Refund Resolution

Sorry we did not receive any pictures with your email. I check the size of our batteries here in stock and here is the dimensions

85.8mm x 50.5mm x 3.4mm

Which correlate almost exactly with the dimensions that you mentioned. Perhaps the battery that you were sent is the wrong one. It should say 01070770002 on the top right of the label. If it does not, then maybe sent you the wrong battery. Please resend me the pictures so I can see which battery that you received and how it is different. If not then we can have you return the battery to us and we can check the size of it compared to what we have instock to see if it was manufactured incorrectly.



From: a wallis
To: Zach Olsen
Subject: RE: Battery Compatibility Issue and Possible Exchange/Refund Resolution

I'm sorry you did not receive the pictures the first time. I've included them, hopefully, in this email. The measurements for the battery currently in the player are about 53X72mm. I did buy the player refurbished, but I don't think they could/would have put a completely different type battery in the player. There is no way that the size battery you sent would ever fit into the player I have, new or used. I really am at a loss.

From: Zach Olsen
Subject: RE: Battery Compatibility Issue and Possible Exchange/Refund Resolution
To: a wallis

ok, thanks for the pictures, that is the correct battery for your unit, but I am confused because the picture you sent of the battery was next to the hard disk, do you have a picture of your original battery next to the original battery. This battery would probably fit right on top of or below the hard disk.

Here is a video of how the hard disk and battery are in relation to each other. The battery should fit on the opposite chamber that your trying to fit it into.

It should fit just perfectly into that one side without the hard disk. Perhaps you have not removed the battery yet from that side. I don't know it is hard to tell from the pictures.



From: a wallis
To: Zach Olsen
Subject: RE: Battery Compatibility Issue and Possible Exchange/Refund Resolution

OK. I guess I can chalk this up on the list of really embarrassing things I've done. As I'm sure you've already guessed, I thought the hard drive was the battery. yeah...... I failed to notice the battery taped to the back side of the player. In my defense it blended really well with the silver backing. That's my story anyway. It doesn't in any way lessen how stupid I feel right now. I don't think I can say anything more. Please continue making fun of me in your mind. I know I am. Thank you for your help.

From: Zach Olsen
Subject: RE: Battery Compatibility Issue and Possible Exchange/Refund Resolution
To: a wallis

OK, great, I am just glad that we figured it out together without shipping something back and forth. Thanks for letting me know. It helps us know better how to help our other customers in the future too. Have a great day!




I have nothing more to say about that. In other news, I think my butt is falling.

Saturday, January 9, 2010

I write because I have nothing important to say

I thought I would share part the introduction to a book I read recently. I'll let the words speak for themselves, I only hope they impact you even half as much as they affected me.

Words at Play by Willard Espy (a collection of word games and witty wordy sayings)

Any Fair minded person must concede that words are not tools of communication in the way that, say, frowns and kisses are. In childhood we communicate by screaming, chuckling, sticking fingers into eyes and pulling hair. Our parents communicate with us by suckling, hugging, changing diapers, spanking and sending us to bed without our suppers.

A few years later teachers communicate with us by putting gold stars after out names, or standing us in corners. We answer by turning out hair into blackberry bushed and, these days knocking the teachers down and stomping them.

In college, we communicate by locking the president in his office and bombing the library. The president communicates by calling the constabulary, who communicate by means of truncheons, Mace, tear gas and, occasionally, gunfire. The meaning of these exchanges is perfectly understood by everyone involved, though an observer would not be able to recognize any words at all in the din, except for a continuous chant of ‘Motherf----‘, which does not count, since it does not appear in either Webster’s or the Oxford English Dictionary.

By the time we marry and settle down we are locked for life in to the Manichean fallacy. Everything we do not like about the world is the result of someone’s deliberate evildoing. So we have no reason for verbal expression. One does not hold a dialogue with the wicked; and as for the good (that is, those who are on our side) one communicates very satisfactorily simply by grunting.

The working man communicates with his boss by striking, arriving late, getting messages wrong, disarranging the cards in the computer and forgetting to flush the toilet. The boss talks back by flounting a Cadillac or Mercedes-Benz, taking winter holidays and having no money left over for a Christmas bonus.

Politicians communicate by waving their arms, shaking their fists and glaring into the television camera. Nations communicate by stockpiling, and at times using, napalm, atom bombs, submarines, missiles and poison gas.

These forms of communication outrank words because they are far more effective. Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me. Promises are pleasant, but diamonds are a girl’s best friend. Speak softly, but carry a big stick. I’ll brave the thunder if you’ll brave the lightning.

The pretence that words make a difference in human affairs is one of the oldest and dirtiest tricks of English teachers and the ruling classes. Long before we emerged from our caves it had become clear that if one man could fool another into arguing instead of throwing a rock, he – the first man, that is – had it made. Marie Antoinette did not say, ‘Let them eat cake’. She said, ‘Keep them talking’. When people stop talking, they are becoming dangerous.

Wednesday, January 6, 2010

How Many Quarters are in a Year?

First, Have a funny picture:


Hope that put a smile on your face. Here's something that put a smile on my face during the recent Christmas season. Let me introduce you, if you haven't already met, to Krampus. According to some Eastern European legends he's a companion to St. Nicholas and accompanies him on his nocturnal visits. Unlike the Fat Jolly guy in the red suit who delivers presents to good little children, Krampus is an animal like creature with large horns covered in fur who carries a basket on his back used to carry away bad children and dump them into the pits of Hell. Yes, Hell. Forget Billy Bob Thornton, Krampus is the real "Bad Santa". Mom was watching the news one night and called me over to see something "awful". It was a segment on Krampus where people dressed in Krampus suits and participating in a Krampus parade down a main street in Europe dragging people out of the crowd to whip them with sticks and bending down to further frighten crying children. I thought it was great. I wish the tradition would take off in the US. I also wish I could find the original video I saw for you, but I couldn't. You'll have to be content with these.

And children aren't the only ones who have to fear this mythical demon. Krampus goes after grown ups too.

Maybe next year we'll have a Krampus Christmas. I'm hopeful.

Speaking of Christmas, I have a zombie story I want to tell you. You know the Salvation army Bell Ringers? Well, there was one stationed outside the grocery doors at Wal Mart through the holiday season. You could tell he wasn't quite "right in the head". For the entire 8 hours, or however long he stood there ringing his bell, all he said was "Happy Holidays, Merry Christmas" A statement to be expected, but not repeated nonstop over and over for hours on end. Not by any sane person, or someone who wanted to remain sane. He also, every day for weeks, without fail, when I walked out the doors after work told me that he liked my Dark Crystal lunch box. Because apparently, he'd forgotten that he already told me that. Now, I wasn't witness to what follows, but I heard it from someone who was so.... One day he was in the break room talking to no one. Or rather talking kind of loudly to no one in particular but everyone in general in the hopes that someone would talk back to him. My friend was trying to ignore him. He started talking about Zombies. My friend said nothing. Nothing, that is, until he spouted off with "You know Jesus was a Zombie". My friend couldn't help it. He turned around and asked, "What do you mean?". The guy responded with, "Well, he died and came back to life. That makes him a zombie". My friend was flabergasted as was I when I heard it. I'd never thought of that before. But ya know, it does make some degree of twisted sense. From now on I think the Salvation Army bell ringers could be closet geniuses.

And while we're on the subject of smart idiots and things that just make you scratch your head, the lady who mom takes to church Lilly (you know the one. Used to call us almost every day until she lost her phone service because she couldn't pay the bill because she was spending money on bus tickets on multi state trips, tries like hell to adopt herself into our lives going so far as to claim we're her family, mentally handicapped but highly functioning, knows just enough to live by herself but not enough to take care of herself, the one who made me feel emotionally raped? yeah. that one) She told me she had been on "that vegan diet, sissy" I didn't think much about it, until I noticed she had just bought a good two pounds of expensive bacon. I didn't call her on it. I just filed that away in the "people who don't make any sense" file in my head. That file's pretty full.

To end on a weird note, how about weird/unusual holidays.
January 8th is, among other things, National Bubble Bath Day, National English Toffee Day, and National Women's Day. I suggest that women everywhere eat english toffee while taking a Bubble Bath.
January 9th is Positively Penguins Day
And my personal Favorites:
January 15th is International Fetish Day
January 16th is Appreciate a Dragon Day