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Entry tags:
Kennel asshats; Neighbor asshats; Spammer asshats
Here's the picture of the week, brought to you once again by my lazy day shift counterparts. What appears at first glance to be some sort of horrific monster is only a horrific few months' worth of accumulated hair and dog poop stuck to this mat that I pulled out of the gutter that runs under the ward. I gleefully sent this pic to Tery's phone. She was angry and I expect the parties responsible will truly catch hell come Monday (she's trying to be a more proactive boss). She asked me to photograph it for her for later printing and example-making; I offered to go one better and leave it as physical evidence, but alas, she wanted me to clean it up. Please keep in mind that my concept of hell is carpeted with this stuff, only it will be wet and I'll be forced to spend eternity barefoot. After wasting 15 minutes in what I knew would be a fruitless search for a Hazmat suit (the best I could do was a set of latex gloves), I scrubbed it clean, but a small part of me died while doing so.
~*~
If there's anything that I hate more than stupid dogs, it's stupid humans that treat them with cruelty/neglect.
Our ground floor neighbors when they first moved in had a parakeet that they kept in a cage on their balcony, as far as we can tell 24 hours a day regardless of the weather. Not surprisingly, the bird disappeared a few weeks into winter, his cage left sitting empty. Parakeets aren't really known for their sturdiness.
Then a few months ago they got a cute little shih tzu puppy. Well, it WAS cute until it ate their screen door. Now puppy's all grown up and spends about 12 hours a day banished to the balcony, gazing sad and lonely at passersby.
Here's the conversation I imagine took place between its owners (names changed obviously, though in my head they have distinctive Southern accents (unfair stereotype, sorry, can't help it)):
Beavis: Well, lookit that, Butthead. Puppies sure can do some damage when they're alone and bored all day.
Butthead: No problem, Beavis. We'll just take down the screen door. Little fella can't do much to glass, right?
Beavis: Gosh, you're sure smart, Butthead. Awww, but look. He just spends the whole day with his paws on the door looking in at us.
Butthead: Well, then, we'll just close the shades. Now we can't see him!
Beavis: Gee, I don't know why I didn't think of that! Ummm.....Butthead? Why did we get a dog in the first place?
Butthead: Well, DUH, Beavis. Because we LOVE dogs!
I can (very begrudgingly) understand Tracey keeping dogs for security -- they sit behind her front door and growl and bark menacingly at anyone in the stairwell. However, I very much doubt any intruders would be deterred by a shih tzu that's obviously confined to the porch.
I'm telling you, it's enough to make our heads explode seeing that poor little guy out there day in and out. But we know from experience with Tracey that Animal Control can't do a thing unless he's not being fed. There's no law that says people have to give their pets attention, although you'd better believe there would be if I were in charge of things. He at least gets to come in at night for now -- who's to say that won't change once the weather starts warming up.
Hey there, lonely girl
Meanwhile I noticed the crazy Christmas tree neighbors had a couple of pigeons perched on their railing talking back and forth, looking for all the world like they were discussing the changes they could make to install a nursery. Of course, first to go will have to be the wreath which still hangs in the center. Those people will learn the hard way the lesson of tolerating pigeons.
~*~
Now another chapter of wacky names people give their unfortunate children. In this batch: "Moses Christian," who will probably be attending Catholic schools anyway, so he should be okay. Don't know that I can say the same for "Journey Melon." Then there's "Tyke." At first I thought this was a newborn infant; they're sometimes referred to as "Baby Boy" or "Baby Girl" in the chart if they have serious congenital issues and require treatment within days of being born. No, "Tyke" was 14 years old. How's he going to feel when he's a 50-year-old man being called "Tyke"? Honestly. I even looked for alternate meanings. The only one I could find was British, "A man considered uncouth or mean; a boor." Ah, much better.
And while I'm on the transcription job, I wish I had an extra dollar for every time a doctor wanted a copy sent to some vague, unspecified destination. I even had one say "Copy to patient's nursing home, I don't have the address." Sorry, doc -- at barely $9 an hour, you're getting a typist, not a psychic. Even more maddening are the docs who make me listen for agonizing minutes while they flip through papers and talk to themselves. If I'm not typing, I'm not getting paid. That's fine, take your time. No rush at all. It's all. About. You.
~*~
Finally in this long post about pointless things, my email spam filter is really disappointing me in a big way lately. It used to be ace, now I'm getting 15-20 pieces of spam a day. I tried bringing it to the attention of Comcast, hoping they were already working on the problem. All I received was their form bullshit letter about how they were as concerned about spam as I was. Maybe this would be true if I started forwarding the piles I'm getting directly to them.
I wish I could just have it filter by keyword. I mean, honestly, is there anyone who doesn't instantly recognize spam when they read the subject line? As big of a pervert as I readily admit to being, none of my friends ever send me mail containing the words "real women," "penetrate," "weapon in bed" or "fondle all her internal nerve endings." And for that matter, no one I correspond with regularly has an address with the number "5414527683334" in it. Knock it off, spammers. You're not fooling anyone.
~*~
If it's any consolation, I don't take any pride in this particular post. No, definitely not my best work.
FIRST?
Aww. The dog's adorable, too. I hope they have water and food dishes out there, at least.
Maybe "Tyke" is short for something. Like, uh, "Ty-kwan".
I get 100-150 spam e-mails in my spambox every day, easy. I've been lucky so far though: the only spam e-mails that have got through to my inbox since I joined gmail came last week, and they were well-written enough to fool any spam-seeking robot. I was super excited to see them, because they were both "give-me-money, I'm-a-prince-in-some-African-country" e-mails, which I've heard so much about but have never received before. I'm moving up in the world.
Re: FIRST?
S/he is adorable, doesn't even bark so it's hard to classify him/her with other stupid dogs that annoy me and deserve such a fate. Judging from the large amount of doggie poo that's accumulated in front of their unit, I'd say they're feeding him/her. Just another family that wants a dog but not the responsibility that comes with one.
LOL Ty-kwan, middle name Doe.
Jesus that's a lot. When it comes down to it, I really shouldn't mind that the spam comes into my inbox rather than my spam box, since I used to go through them anyway to make sure something important wasn't designated spam.
The book I just finished reading, "Yes Man," is about a guy in London who vows to be more open to suggestions and say yes to everything...I mean everything, even one of those scams. He actually took it so far that I began to think he honestly didn't know it was a scam (but he seemed intelligent enough). Fortunately the deal went sour before he ever actually gave his money to someone.
Re: FIRST?
Would you recommend the book? I've just remembered I can buy off Amazon with my bank card, too. Which reminds me, I haven't started "Alternatives to Sex" yet but I hope to have finished it by Wednesday.
Re: FIRST?
If you've got money to burn, sure, it's not a bad read. Don't know that I would ringingly endorse it to anyone, but since you're such a fast reader it isn't too much of a time investment. If you're really curious but don't want to spend, you can certainly borrow it via snail mail if you like.
Oh yeah. Let me know how it is.