Saturday, January 26, 2013
Then today I open my email and have a letter from an attorney that my "likeness" and something I said on a Facebook status (God, I hope they at least stole something I said that was nice!) was being used for advertisement purposes, it had also happened to other people three of whom had seen theirs and hired an attorney for yet another class action suit. It was investigated and that is how they found the rest of us. They are trying to reach a settlement for 20 million dollars with Facebook for allowing the information to be stolen by the way they have things set up. But the kicker is, again by the time all is said and done we would only receive $5 to $10 each after attorney fees, court fees, etc. and if anymore people are found in the meantime and our share drops below that $5 then it will be considered unfeasible to to send out the shares and the money will go to a charity. So out of two settlements for a grand total of 35 million dollars I would come out with a whopping $30-$35. I am thinking the second one is probably a hoax and not even bothering with putting in my claim, it would eat up my reward just by buying a stamp and going to mail the claim. I replied with an email "somehow I find THAT unfeasible, and I would much rather have a cut of the profits that any company makes that is using my image and would they kindly send me the list of companies using it so I can handle the matter myself?" I figure if you put your picture publicly on any social network for millions to see in the first place then you obviously aren't that concerned with that picture being used or stolen, what the hell do I care if someone steals it?
I am always amazed at the people on FB who fall for all the scams out there, and I'm not saying the one above is, it could be legit I don't know, haven't bothered to check and won't. I get so amused when someone posts and then others repost the same thing over and over again on FB. It's so simple to check it out first before cluttering up my page with the nonsense. The amusement comes from wondering just who has the time to come up with these hoaxes, some rather elaborate, and why they do it when they stand to gain nothing at all from it.
Last night we got the munchies about 2am, no pot involved. Of course not a single bag of the five different types of chips in the pantry, the two packages of crackers with cheese, the banana bread I made, the cheesecake brownies I made, the two bags of candy or the ice cream in the freezer would do. I just had to have a Hot Mamma sausage, the boys just had to have cheese dip and of course we all needed a candy bar. I became the poster child for "The People of Walmart", I was not getting dressed to go nor was I going to trust either one of Satan's children to pick out my Hot Mamma, they always get the wrong one. So I went in my pj's, my knit boot house slippers with the little furry pom poms that hang off the back of the furry top and threw a purple coat over all of it and out I went. I thought we could quietly and quickly slip in and get our snacks and no one would even notice us. It might have worked had the Devil's Advocate not announced loudly as we were going in the door that "all these people look creepy". Creepy, seriously? So I replied back to him, my voice rising with each word: "Hello? Have you not looked at us? Do you really not see that we look like we live in the last trailer in Shady Lawns Mobile Home Park, the one they put in the back because it is too horrible to be seen from the main road, with the broken down pick up trucks in the yard, the kiddie swimming pool with the broken side and green water from three years ago still in it, the missing step going up to the weathered "porch", the broken porch light globe and the pit bull tied to the tongue hitch to keep our meth lab from being found?" By now the woman who does nothing but stand and wait for one of the self check out machines to fuck up, several other customers and the door greeter are looking at us. We amble on back to the chip aisle to get our dip and some idiot has placed a display of chips right around the corner which I promptly walk into and knock over because I was trying to untangle one of my fuzzy pom pom's(hey, if you wear the pom's they must be able to freely swing!) and not paying attention to where I was walking. More attention directed our way, it probably didn't help that we are all laughing hysterically at this point. I could just hear the conversation between the door greeter and the self check out lady: "Do you think they are alright?" "Nah, meth heads for sure, someone should turn that lady in for letting those kids get that fucked up" "Maybe, we should call the police?" "Why, they will just be gone before they get here and how are we going to describe them, two of them look just alike?" "Well, the lady can't be that hard to find with that green nail polish she has on" "Well I'm not calling because I'm pretty sure I saw some budding horns on those kids" "Well maybe they are deformed from the meth use" "Nah, they are evil, I can smell it coming off their bodies" "No, that's Axe body spray, all the kids wear it, it's one of our biggest sellers"
Friday, January 25, 2013
One of my biggest fears came true yesterday, a visit from a certain family member from afar. First I want to go on record as saying this woman has no business leaving her little cottage near the edge of the woods let alone traveling anywhere past her mailbox at the end of her lane. She is a full blown Paranoid Schizophrenic with Anti Social Personality Disorder who refuses hospitalization of even treatment. As for committing her the family members that would be responsible for taking care of that have the attitude "Well she hasn't physically harmed anyone yet....." They are right but it's that "yet" part that doesn't give me a lot of comfort, the woman is bat shit crazy. So she is passing through and decides to drop in and visit me. Who the fuck is "just passing through" from England? This is a small account of our lovely visit.
I am sick again with bronchitis and doing everything in my power to keep it from turning into pneumonia again. A lot of bed/couch time and medicine. Hair and makeup have not been high on my priority list, it is questionable if my hair had even been brushed in three days, codiene combined with Klonopin will do that to you. My doorbell rings and there she stood. After I shit myself over the shock I realized that for the first time in my life, or probably anyone else's, she actually looked better than I did. I decided that kicking her down the stairs and running to hide under my bed might be construed by some as being rude so I let her in.
First thing she yells is that my house is on fire and we have to get out. It took me a minute to realize it was the fireplace so I turned it off. That satisfied her and she sat down to catch me up on her life since we last talked on the phone about three months ago. In the last three months:
She has been having a severe problem with some very wiley domesticated dogs that have been getting on the roof of her neighbors houses and walking around at night, but they know just when she calls the police and always manage to be gone by the time police arrive.
She had to make a police report for theft more thian once. The first time someone broke in her house in the middle of the night and stole her pink sponge hair rollers. The second time someone stole four shingles from the roof of her shed (the shingles fell off that shed many years ago and it was a hell of a lot more than four missing). The third time someone broke in and stole her favorite green tablecloth, you know the one with the pretty lace around the edges? The fourth time was a double hit and someone stole all her tupperware lids and rubberbands, but she has a suspect in that theft, she is certain it is her son-in-law.
Someone came into her house and forced her to let them shave her eyebrows.
While she was in the market someone moved her car to a different parking place several rows away and she was so upset with the police for not dusting for fingerprints when she called to report it. At this point I couldn't hold it in any longer and ask if the neighbors dogs could have done it out of revenge for her calling the police on them for walking on the rooftops every night? She agreed it was a possibility.
About this time Demon Seed walks down the hall and announces he is going to go play basketball (I learned a long time ago this is code for "go trolling for girls") and would be back in about 2 to 3 hours. Aunt Cindy LooTu has to hug, kiss and tell him how handsome he is and he is doing his best to politely squirm out of the wrestlers hold she has on him. He manages to break free and damn near runs out the door with me yelling at him "It rubs off on you, now your damned to live a mortal existence!" About 5 minutes later the Devil's Advocate walks in the front door and she looks at me and says "Oh my has it been 3 hours already?" God help me but I told her yes. She ask him if he had enjoyed his basketball game, he of course, had no idea what she was talking about and mumbled something unintelligible and went on to his room. She, of all people, then asks me if he was "ok in the head" because he seemed to have no memory of playing basketball. I don't think she realized the whole time she was here that they were not the same person.
I'm thinking things were going pretty good considering I had Sybil as my guest when she suddenly freaked out claiming the government was taking pictures of her. The culprit turned out to be my automatic air freshener that goes off every 15 minutes. She left in a hurry.
Monday, January 14, 2013
Also Lily's son, Spawn has started a blog for all Dr. Who fans and those, such as me, that know nothing about him but am learning through Spawn. It's great reading and he knows his stuff. Go check him out at Last Of The Zolfa-Thurans
Phone call from Mom (who lives 700 miles away from me):
Mom: It's raining cats and dogs outside. Is it raining there too?
Me: Yes, it's coming down hard here too and we are under flood warnings.
Mom: Look at the way it is coming down sideways.
Me: Mom, I can't see how your rain is coming down sideways from here.
Mom: All you have to do is get up and look outside!
Me: Mom, I live 700 miles away, just because it is raining sideways at your house doesn't mean it is here.
Mom: Well, just get up and look at it anyway, I bet it is.
I get up and go look look, no sideways rain here where I live.
Me: No sideways rain it's coming down straight.
Mom: Well, that is strange ours is sideways.
What can I say?
Demon Seed wants to borrow $10, I don't have a ten only a twenty, I told him to bring me the change back and because he has no job and refused to sign a contract I basically have no legal expectation of being paid back so taking him to court for the other $10 is not an option. So yesterday we were out and I wanted to stop for a fountain drink, I thought I was being slick by telling him to just buy them out of the $10 left over from the night before that he hadn't give me back yet. Today I open my email with a message from PayPal thanking me for using their credit card and giving me a receipt for the drinks. I ask about it and his excuse, which makes perfect since to him, was that he had used it to put gas in the car and since he put it in MY car then he technically gave me the money back. He doesn't get the part that even if he DID put it in my car I didn't ask him too and he was the one that used the car to run that gas out still leaving him owing me$10. He just looked at me as if I had two heads sprouting asparagus out of them and walked off. We are now at a stand off with the car keys being held hostage, locked safely in my lock box, when that $10 shows up he can have them back. How much you want to bet he has that lock picked before today is over? But that's OK too, he can't get far without a battery in the car. Now that, he won't think to look for.
Sunday, January 13, 2013
I feel it only fair to start with the biggest injustice of my life. Chatty Cathy. I must have been around 7 or 8 when she came out in her little blue dress with the white blouse under it, face covered in freckles and teeth. Those teeth had me fascinated, I had never seen a doll with teeth showing before. I didn't give a shit that she actually talked even though at times she got "stuck" and sounded like Satan which highly amused me, I just wanted her because of those teeth. I begged, I pleaded and still I didn't get a Chatty Cathy doll, my mother thought her endearing teeth made her look "creepy". Then it happened, one of my best friends and neighbor that I played with every day got my beloved Chatty Cathy for her birthday. But being the stingy child she was she wouldn't let anyone play with her toys. I was devastated. To this day I still haven't gotten that Chatty Cathy doll.
Rotary phones and party lines
Black rotary dialed phones with actual operators and party lines? You simply picked up your phone and an operator would say "Number Please" and you gave her the number you were calling. Funny I can still remember our number was 555J and my Aunt's was 886B, she then connected the lines for you at a switchboard. Along with this came party lines. It works like this 6-10 different households (neighbors, sometimes total strangers) share the same line, each has a phone in their own home, kind of like having an extension in your house today. Only one person at a time could use the phone, but any of the other 5 could pick up their phone in their homes and hear the conversation. If anyone else was using the phone, you were just shit out of luck until they hung up. Obviously not a well thought out plan, do you realize how much fun a 10 yr old can have with a party line? We had one, a party line of 6. We had one old witch on ours, Mrs. Swayzee, who listened in on one everyone else's conversations, sometimes rudely butting in with a comment of her own. I loved it when my mother would lose her temper and let fly on Mrs. Swayzee. It also made her a target for us kids, we never bothered anyone else, ok I lied, we bothered everyone else on our party line. If we could catch a conversation it was heaven, bring out the belches, the farts, the high pitched squeals, taped music, banging pots and pans together, anything we could think of to disrupt their conversation. Luckily for us there was no way to trace back exactly which line the trouble makers were coming from. Then some idiot got smart and gave everyone their own line. I like to think we had a part in furthering technology.
Wringer washing machines and clothes drying on the line