Bits and Pieces: Dogs, Eyes and More SUV Fuckwads
Last night when the Crackwhore got home it was obvious she got her warning from the city, because her first course of action was to put up a lower hideous bamboo screen in addition to the larger hideous bamboo screen that completely covers the front of her balcony. Yeah, THAT will raise property values. She obviously thinks if she squeezes her eyes closed reeeeeeeeeeeeeaally tight then we'll all just disappear. Perhaps if the screens were soundproof we might, but they aren't, and they sure don't stop the dogs from barking. If anything it makes them crazier because now they only have a small place to peek out on the side. But now she can amass as much fecal material as she wants and none of us will know, except for me because I'm the only one who can still see onto her balcony. It is truly astounding the efforts she will make to keep doing what she's been doing, rather than just do what she should be doing, namely walking those poor dogs once in awhile.
But now the Alcoholic is on a new crusade against the screen...she doesn't want to see horrible, horrible poo, but that screen is an unforgivable eyesore (for the minute it takes her to walk to her unit). For her part, she's taping the dogs with a big, clunky recorder like the one I had growing up. Which is fine except she is also interjecting snarky comments about the barking, instead of just presenting objective evidence that should speak for itself. I'm tired. So very tired. Why can't people just stop being asshats?
But in the midst of it all, as always, Tery made me laugh. I spent so much of the day focusing on the poo that she didn't realize when I switched gears. Namely, I followed this link from anne_jumps to a post that made my blood run cold (and anyone who is a friend of mine should have a similar reaction) and I immediately leaped into action to mail my elected official. I called Tery to ask if the correct form of address was "Representative Salazar" or "Congressman Salazar" (without telling her why I needed to know). She asked if I was taking the poo battle all the way to Capitol Hill. On the spot she devised some rousing slogans for my march:
"Hey hey! Ho ho! The Crackwhore has got to go!"
"We're here! We hear! Get used to it!"
"It smells! Like hell! It smells! Like hell!"
She so funny. (I didn't bother emailing my Republican Congressman. I did that once before regarding gay marriage and got back a very pleasant letter that basically said, "Thanks for your concern on this issue, but I'm going to do whatever the hell I want anyway.")
In other news, my eye has finally cleared up without leaving any permanent interesting bits of color as I'd hoped. Now it just looks like everyone else's. Damn my exemplary vascular system to hell.
Finally, one for the "Evidence That Brains Are No Longer Mandatory" file: The other day as I was walking out to my car to go to work, an SUV was pulling in. The driver saw me get into my car, yet inexplicably pulled up directly behind me. She was apparently dropping her friend off, but they had to sit and chat first. I stared at them in my rearview mirror, then started my engine. No signs of moving, so I put it in reverse so the lights would go on. Still nothing, so I had to open my door and tell them that yes, I was trying to leave and yes, your big ugly vehicle is completely blocking me (okay, so that second part was only in my head). At last my message got through.
I'm not saying it requires extraordinary intelligence to be able to drive (oh, if only it did!) however, a working knowledge of back-up lights and their significance certainly comes in handy at times. Remember what I said about SUV drivers not being the brightest crayon in the box? We can call this Exhibit QQ.
Addendum: So far every single co-worker I've told about taking gingko biloba for my memory has had the exact same response - "How do you remember to take it?" Guffaw. Really, people, do you all share the same brain?
But now the Alcoholic is on a new crusade against the screen...she doesn't want to see horrible, horrible poo, but that screen is an unforgivable eyesore (for the minute it takes her to walk to her unit). For her part, she's taping the dogs with a big, clunky recorder like the one I had growing up. Which is fine except she is also interjecting snarky comments about the barking, instead of just presenting objective evidence that should speak for itself. I'm tired. So very tired. Why can't people just stop being asshats?
But in the midst of it all, as always, Tery made me laugh. I spent so much of the day focusing on the poo that she didn't realize when I switched gears. Namely, I followed this link from anne_jumps to a post that made my blood run cold (and anyone who is a friend of mine should have a similar reaction) and I immediately leaped into action to mail my elected official. I called Tery to ask if the correct form of address was "Representative Salazar" or "Congressman Salazar" (without telling her why I needed to know). She asked if I was taking the poo battle all the way to Capitol Hill. On the spot she devised some rousing slogans for my march:
"Hey hey! Ho ho! The Crackwhore has got to go!"
"We're here! We hear! Get used to it!"
"It smells! Like hell! It smells! Like hell!"
She so funny. (I didn't bother emailing my Republican Congressman. I did that once before regarding gay marriage and got back a very pleasant letter that basically said, "Thanks for your concern on this issue, but I'm going to do whatever the hell I want anyway.")
In other news, my eye has finally cleared up without leaving any permanent interesting bits of color as I'd hoped. Now it just looks like everyone else's. Damn my exemplary vascular system to hell.
Finally, one for the "Evidence That Brains Are No Longer Mandatory" file: The other day as I was walking out to my car to go to work, an SUV was pulling in. The driver saw me get into my car, yet inexplicably pulled up directly behind me. She was apparently dropping her friend off, but they had to sit and chat first. I stared at them in my rearview mirror, then started my engine. No signs of moving, so I put it in reverse so the lights would go on. Still nothing, so I had to open my door and tell them that yes, I was trying to leave and yes, your big ugly vehicle is completely blocking me (okay, so that second part was only in my head). At last my message got through.
I'm not saying it requires extraordinary intelligence to be able to drive (oh, if only it did!) however, a working knowledge of back-up lights and their significance certainly comes in handy at times. Remember what I said about SUV drivers not being the brightest crayon in the box? We can call this Exhibit QQ.
Addendum: So far every single co-worker I've told about taking gingko biloba for my memory has had the exact same response - "How do you remember to take it?" Guffaw. Really, people, do you all share the same brain?