Piss off...

Saturday, July 30, 2005


originally uploaded by Westbye.
Good morning!

Friday, July 29, 2005

Eat (pig) shit.

License plate observed on the pike today: 84H POO

Spend a lot of time hanging around the petting zoo?

Obviously it's nothing. Surely this was just a randomly spit-out DMV issued number, and not the intentionally chosen vanity plate of one who enjoys consuming livestock excreta. No self-respecting pig shit eater (and of course there's no such thing as a self-respecting pig shit eater) would drive around and advertise. Still, if I had been assigned that plate? Um, I might've, you know, asked for another one?

Thursday, July 28, 2005

Note for posterity

Burping loudly into the receiver while being told to enter my car loan number apparently fools the autoprompter into thinking I have requested that all further instructions be in Spanish. This is a good thing to know.

Interesting phenomenon #32: our phone number is marked. We closed on our house in May. Since then, we have received countless calls at all hours from a fax machine. Further, there have been an abnormal number of hang-up messages and "Please hold on for an important business message!" messages. Yeah, that do-not-call list has been real effective. I finally called one of the numbers to A: find out who the fuck was calling so incessantly, and B: to be taken off the list.

Apparently, my number used to belong to a M--- C---, and apparently, M-- C--- is a credit absconder.

The first woman that I talked to at the collections agency was very nice, and promised to note that M-- C--- was no longer at our number. After the next call, the second drone I talked to was slightly less helpful. He told me that he couldn’t take our number off the list because M-- C--- was still unaccounted for, as were the funds she had siphoned off with. His advice? "Umm…just try to answer the phone so you can explain the situation." I work. "Umm…well, can you try to answer the phone?" I work. Shall I answer the phone from work with telepathy? "Uhhh…" Just because you can answer a phone doesn’t mean that you should be doing so for a living, cha-cha. I did take down the name and extension of pleasant-and-competent collections agency woman, but I haven’t been able to connect with her. Perhaps because I’m working and not home living off of the proceeds of bum checks, and I’m not about to call a collections agency from the cube. "Uhhh…." Fuckers.

Wherever you are tonight, M-- C---, I hope you’re living it up. And preparing for a radical change in lifestyle where you just might get traded around the yard for a pack of menthols.

Excuse me: incoming fax call…