Duck People

How sad. Little pretty office girl looks like a duck when she is trying to decide what to get from the pop machine.

Hands on hips, elbows back, neck slightly extended, full duck lips in effect.

Elevator People

On the list of things that suck about the city, right below tourists and just above crackhead cabbies, are elevator people. Elevators are significantly sucky in their own right, but are only a minor pain in the ass. The elevator people are much worse.

1. Pushed the wrong button guy. This idiot accidently pushes 53 and 54 before remember that he actually has to go to 51. Of course, you are going to 55. Fucker.

2. Space-cadet girl. Not sure if the shiny box with the open doors is an elevator or not, so waits 30 seconds or so before getting on. Spends the entire ride staring at the glowing numbers with glazed over eyes and then when she gets to her floor, she looks around at everyone else to see if they are getting off. If not, she figures it must be hers, and after another 30 second decision making process, gets the fuck off.

3. No concept of personal space guy. Pretty clear why this guy is an asshole. Hey, dumbass, there are other places for you to stand that don't involve you touching me.

4. Cell phone junkie. Believe it or not, cell reception sucks when you are totally encased in metal. Doesn't matter how loud you talk or how many times you repeat yourself.

5. Aren't we fun twins. Generally, but not always girls. During the summer, probably tourists. Insist on talking at twice the necessary volume about how much fun they are and how everyone had such a good time with them at lunch/the bar/etc.

6. We can fit guy. Sees no problem at all with cramming way too many people in the elevator rather than waiting 2 minutes for the next one. Makes jokes about sardines or something to hide the fact he is a dumbshit.

The Fighting Side of Me

As I sit on my window ledge looking out on Chicago, I recall all of the great crawdad-fighting times of old. Back when things were simpler. In any event, I'm guessing that my current reflective mood has a lot to do with the fact that I've been listening to Merle Haggard for the last 3 hours. The wife and I have just been kicking back and visiting and listened to a little of the Hag, and it has been good.

Makes me think of all of the citiots, the asses, the general dissappointments and the other people who are walking on the fighting side of me.

That guy. The really important one who feels the need to speak over everyone.
City people who talk about organic produce like it is healthier than the alternative.
Exceeding expectations guy.
New York girl.
Cabbies who drive in the middle of the lane.
Hippies.
People who protest the war but know nothing about it.
Anyone who doesn't realize that if you're running down my country, man, you're walking on the fighting side of me.
Anyone who doesn't realize that walking on that side means that there is a hole in Wabanusee county with their name on it.
People who piss off my sister.
Guys who cheat.
Girls who manipulate.
Bouncers.
Those who cheapen, discount, slight, overlook or otherwise ignore hard work rewarded.

Now I'm switching to a little Cash.

Friday

Fucking finally.







P.S. I'm getting a haircut today.

Dealing With Really Smart People

One of the greatest joys of buying a condo is nailing down the mortgage. I'm getting kind of tired of it, so it's a good thing we are about finished. Anyway, here is just a tiny example of how an idiot lender can actually make the process go from so-so shitty to super shitty in a single e-mail.

My e-mail to him last Friday:

"[Idiot Lender],

Thanks for touching base. We are moving forward, but work has picked up
in the last week and I haven't been able to focus on the mortgage. Will
make a decision early next week.

[WHBH]"

His response this morning:

"[WHBH],

Decision with respect to lender? Let me know as soon as you can. I
have number of my staff working on the file.
Thanks

[Idiot Lender]"

Response I am considering sending back:


"[Idiot Lender],

Decision has been made. Have decided to go with non-pushy lender who doesn't make me want to scream at them over the phone about the lessons of customer service and public relations. Rushing people who are getting ready to make the biggest financial decision of their life is probably not the way to go, genius.

Not sure what in the hell your staff has been doing on this "file" that precluded them from working on other "files" since I haven't sent you any information or asked questions for like two weeks. In any event, consider them open for other business.

Fuck you very much,

[WHBH]"

Seriously, who the hell is this guy to try to push me to make a decision before I'm ready. I feel like a freshman girl at my first toga party.

Helper Monkey Update

The sister was asking about how my Helper Monkey was doing, since I haven't mentioned him for awhile. For all I know, that little bastard is off somewhere smoking banannas and kicking over little kid's sandcastles. Two weeks ago, that son of a bitch took all of the change out of my change jar on the dresser and ran out the door screaming something about a lock on something or other in Vegas. Four days later I got a post card from Cabo with a bunch of his monkey scratchings on it (he can talk but can't write), and what looked like a receipt for $50,000 from the MGM Grand. I'm guessing he used his pirate/mob connections and found out about some rigged bet and cashed in. Either way, the fucker didn't send me any money, so fuck him.

He was trying to unionize the helper monkeys in the area anyway, so it was pretty clear our relationship was going to have to end. I operate a right-to-work thing here, so I don't deal with unionized monkeys.

Old Yeller

This is how I feel when I talk with some citiot about growing up in the country. They just don't get it. (click to enlarge)















Yes, I did just make up a new word. "Citiot" is a city idiot. See. Makes sense.