Hi folks. I hope your holiday weekend is going well. I apologize for being away from the site for so long, and could hit you with some solid excuses. But I’m not really into it. Excuses, I mean. Screw it… It’s too hot to care.
Yesterday and most of today I’ve been doing some deep-cleaning around the house, and man, it sucks. That kind of nonsense is horrible on a regular day, but it’s suddenly so hot and humid I feel like I’m living underneath a heavy scrotum. Not just a scrotum, mind you, but a heavy one.
My home office (aka The Bunker) is a thing of beauty, though, and so is the entire downstairs. Toney is tackling the upstairs, and I had the boys mow the lawn. So, we’re getting there. It hasn’t been fun, and my mannery glands are as slick as twin seals. But as I type this… it’s almost cocktail hour.
I have to work on Sunday night, but have Monday off. Couldn’t they just give us a long weekend? No, I guess they could not. They’re giving us the SECOND day of the week off. Hey, whatever. As I said before, it’s too hot to give a shit.
Some fresh outrage: A few days ago I was in the post office, to mail some DVDs. I checked my PO Box before I went to the counter, and it was completely empty – again. Every time I check, there’s nothing. I don’t get much mail there, it’s true. But not a single thing in weeks? Not even pizza coupons? It seemed weird.
So, I asked the guy at the counter about it, and he went and checked for me. When he returned he told me there was a cardboard “plug” in the back of my box, which indicates the fee wasn’t paid.
“That’s weird,” I said. “It seems like I just paid it a few weeks ago. I’ll have to check it when I get home.”
He had a concerned look, and asked a woman to confirm the status of Box 88. She logged onto a computer, and a couple of minutes later told him it’s paid-up until August 14, or something.
“So, how long has that plug been in there?” I asked.
“Um… since late February.”
What?! I asked him what’s been happening to my mail, and he told me it’s all being returned(!).
“Why does my key still work, if you think the fee wasn’t paid?” I said.
“It doesn’t make any sense, does it?” he answered.
Good thing I’m on those new blood pressure pills… God only knows what was returned as undeliverable. I don’t even want to think about it. It’s infuriating. They’re supposed to do an “investigation,” but I don’t expect to get any satisfaction. I mean, what am I, an idiot? There’s no positive outcome to this.
So, in the unlikely event that you sent something to my PO Box, and it was returned, I apologize. I don’t know what the hell happened, and how their high tech plug system broke down (what is this, 1923?). It’s just one stupid thing after another.
I have more outrage, involving Subway (nothing about mayonnaise this time), but it’ll have to wait. Do you have anything new to report, on the rage front? Please use the comments link below.
Also, there are a lot empty stores at our local mall, and the boys and I were trying to come up with some businesses we could launch, to fill the gaps. It was complete silliness, and my two favorite offerings were Acre of Pants, and Jeff’s House of Exotic Baloneys.
So, if you want to give us some new mall stores to ponder, that would be cool, too.
I’m going to open a beer now, and start down that slippery slope. I’ve been working my big ass off, and feel like I’ve earned it. Of course, I also feel like I’ve earned it when I take my shoes off, or successfully scratch an itch in the center of my back. But that’s beside the point.
Have a great weekend, my friends.
I’ll see ya next time.
Now playing in the bunker
Treat yourself at Amazon: US and Canada
This has never happened, but I guess I’m first! It’s been horribly hot in St. Louis too. I’m not ready for it.
Sorry. Let, let me get my balls off you.
Jeff…
Sorry it’s hot; sorry life sucks. Opening a new store at a mall is like taking an assosaurus (or whoever) to the vet. You can do it, but the species is still gonna die.
I suppose while in final death spiral you could cover a mall storefront with white paper and write on it, “Suck my dick for a dollar…Must close soon.”
jtb
It’s time to get those Russian hum boxes in, or whatever you call them. A.C. season is starting early this year. Just do it, and do it now.
Oh good God, the Post Office!
I sent a $1200 package to Timbuktu, and because it was worth $1200 *and* going to Timbuktu, I sent it by USPS super tracking mega mail AND insured it for $1200. It didn’t get delivered. It didn’t get returned to me as undeliverable either. Some asshat in Timbuktu evidently stole it and the damn USPS are refusing to pay up on the insurance, despite it going missing.
That’s like 30 cases of beer.
First beer this evening was an Oaked Arrogant Bastard (disappointing, but I have a 6 pack I need to drink).
Second – an old standby, a DFH 60 Minute.
What they don’t tell you at the post office is that all their super fund tracking and insurance stops at the border. They’ll tell you their responsibility stops when they hand off to the other country’s inbound-Customs black hole, where your package will sit for an indefinate period of time before getting released to the post office for final delivery.
I had a set of service manuals sitting in customs for over 3 months. Nobody knew where the box was, the seller got the above line about the fact they can only track to the border as the package then gets handed off and the usps wash their hands on it. Anyway, one day long after everybody has figured the package went to some posties home workshop, I get this box thats been cut open along the top edge, no they couldn’t cut open the sealing tape and open the flaps properly like any normal person would, they had litteraly just sliced the top off the box and tape it shut with I kid you not, a single piece of CUSTOMS CANADA packing tape that was barely three inches long. Yeah, thanks for caring customs.
The shipper packs this thing to ensure nothing goes missing and customs leaves fucking gaping maw of a hole that could have easily let one or all of the books go sailing while completing its journey across the country.
Ahhhhh, gin & tonic #2. Sweet nectar of the Saints or somesuch. On the weather, good Lord it was like a mere 90 here yesterday and jumped 97 or 98 today…what the fuck? Heat switch broke in the on position or what?
My “not-so-fresh” outrage? The computer folks at my jobs were supposed to install an ergonomic keyboard (those weird-ass split ones) and a trackball mouse. I transferred from one office to another (which is a distance of a WHOLE 100 FEET!) So here I sit, on May 26, typing on my split keyboard…from home. I cared more about the keyboard than the mouse anyway–I prefer wireless ones, anyway.
Yeah, this sounds petty, but this is just one of billions of little things that pester the fuck out of me. On the one hand, the high mucky-mucks claim they have no money, so all us secretarial peons can’t even fill in for people who get sick, yet they had millions of $$$ to spend on remodeling an old Circuit City next door. I know damn well they’re spending shitloads of money for the administrators, but for us peons (which includes professors), “No money for YOU!” Shit, I don’t know if I should be mad or admire the fact that you can make a career out of bullshitting people. Maybe I’ll have enough time to become one of those fat cats–hell, I could use a Lincoln Town Car to drive in!
Assisted Suicide
Master Sluts
Twins Dressed Differently
Pitcher and Catcher Boutique
Flys Galore Deli
Lloyd’s Louvers and Lint Traps
Arm and a Leg Jewelers
Turd Derbys and Bras
My fresh outrage:
I think I now have allergies, for the past few days my right eye waters non stop. I tried some Wal-Mart brand Claritin and it did absolutly nothing.
Also:
I got AARP mail today, im 27!! WTF?!
That’s why the Post Office is as successful as it is.
Bitch, bitch, bitch. Bitch! Bitch? Bitch. Bitch: Bitch: Bitch. Bitch;
The state sent us our refund in the form of an actual check because it was for 2010. My husband and I both endorsed it, I took it to the bank to cash it and she wouldn’t let me. Said I had to deposit it and then I could write a check. That struck me as fucked up because I don’t remember having to drag my husband with me to run errands every other time we cashed a fricken check. As Jeff says, I was too hot to give a shit, and just gave her a wee bit of attitude instead of what I coulda.
Not much of a rage, but I feel like I’m storing up for some big ‘splosion that’ll rock the rafters.
They have to do that with federal and state returns. I think they even have to make a phone call to who knows who before they cash it. Why give her the attitude? She just works there.
I’ve been waiting two months to get a spare key to my P.O. box.
Wife has the only key. Not sure how that happened in the first place but I’d kinda like my own key…ya know?
They had you confused with box 89. That guy has been dead for two years and they just realized he hasn’t payed for a while and was dead. Lucky you only got cardboard and your mail wasn’t sent back stamped…”DECEASED”
The ass on the radio who does the weather – “Hey, it’s beautiful out there – 95 and not a cloud in the sky! Get out there and enjoy it!” No you stupid bastard, it’s fucking miserable for anyone who has to actually work for a living and has to wear real clothes instead of a bathing suit all day. In whose world is 95 degress enjoyable? Point them out to me cause I’d like to kick them squarely in the teeth.
The subject for tonight is window-shakers, fellow surf reporters. We have central air, but since warm air rises & cool air, being denser, falls, the upstairs bedrooms are stifling.
The window unit in our bedroom has been a good one, a Whirlpool, but, although it still cools, it has developed a weird, sleep disrupting whine.(Stay with me, people – I need input.)
This particular decision tree has three branches:
1. Stay with the present unit until it craps itself, but possibly going w/o ac for one or two nights. Screw that, not really an option.
2. Pull the plug (literally) and hurl the ancient, noisy unit into the dumpster at work. Like tomorrow. Has a certain appeal.
3. Go with my wife’s suggestion which is to take the unit to her workplace and give it to somebody who is “handy” with ac window units (her words). This option would entail about the same amount of physical labor: yanking it out of the window, lugging it down the stairs and out to the truck.
The danger with option 3 is that a.) it can’t be repaired and b.) the damned thing quits forever the day after the “handyman” gets his paws on it. Not good. I don’t know that many handymen that I can afford to lose one.
And since it is 12:15 Sunday morning and I am at WORK, I can’t even sleep on this decision. It’s even too hot to think.
Tomorrow (today, sorry) I am “goin’ up the country” to spend the day at my sister-in-law’s place, a decidedly RURAL location. All day. Outside. At 92 degrees. All day. Oh swell. My northern European genes are all a-quiver.
I plan to arrive medicated, behind mirrored sunglasses, wearing a WVU tee shirt, cargo shorts and not much else.
I’ve already been requested to “behave myself” which is absurd – 92 degrees is stupor-city. So I will be guarding the keg and maintaining the exact level of “buzz-itude” to get through the day.
I hope you’ns all have Monday off. Stay thirsty, my friends.
Go with number three with a twist. Huck it and start fresh, the way this winter was, it’s gonna be a hotter than usual summer…no need to let some amateur repairman screw with it only to have it crap out halfway through the summer and force you to either A) Re-repair it, or B) Replace the damn thing anyways. Or use the twist and let the guy practice on it for free. If he fixes it, you win and have a spare. If he doesn’t, you’ve already replaced it. Just my two pesos, though.
Bear, what she meant was give the unit to Mr. Handy to *keep*. If he can fix it, he’s got a free (beater) window shaker. If he can’t fix it, it’s his job to dispose of it.
I think you’re right though. She can ask around at work. Maybe I’ll luck out and the dude can come and pick it up .
For now, I’m headed to Lowes.com. buzz
My fresh outrage is actually an old one – a salesman at work, Mr. Stu Padaso, who has been fucking up projects and losing money for decades. He emailed me less than a minute ago – at 1:00am! – after a previous email 20 minutes ago, and a phone call at 6:30pm. A problem at a client site, but it’s the middle of the night on a holiday weekend. I am not so arrogant as to think I have a life, but jeez, Stu, shut your hole and go to bed.
Ahem.
In other news, today I saw a great many participants in an event called “Rolling Thunder”. Evidently they are honoring the memory of our war dead by observing the ancient rite of donning their best wife-beaters and climbing atop outrageously expensive motorcycles, just as Washington and Jefferson did.
.
Chill, unless potential loss of life is involved, screw it. buzz
Oaked Arrogant Bastard? Do these brewers make up these ridiculously stupid names to cover the fact that the beer tastes like shit and you are paying twice the price of a good old American lager or pilsner?
We have a mall less than 5 miles from the house and I haven’t been there since last fall and I only went for a chickey china fix. Stuff is too expensive. I can’t believe people actually go into FYE and pay $13.98 for a CD.
As for a store, how about “Strap it On”. Sell dildos, hernia belts, baby carriers, backpacks, etc.
P.O. Box? What is this, 1923?
I think dyslexia is a prerequisite to work at the post office.
Our postie regularily delivers mail to the wrong houses, no ryhme or reason, just a randomn letter stuck in. Wouldn’t be so bad if it was junk mail, but theres important stuff (like tax returns) that have ended up in somebody elses mailbox.
Even during road construction when we had one of those community mail boxes setup, you’d think the guy on the mail truck would be a bit better at sorting given the fact they are doing it while standing still and they have every single number staring them in the face…
I prefer my rage to simmer continuously, thank you.
Happy Sunday, Surfers!
Me too.
I don’t have any particular ideas for a mall store, but the immature teenager inside me always wants to apply for a job at the spa that offers “facials”.
Hot and Humid all weekend long. I can’t stand it. 3 more months of this shit and I may need a rubber room.
I spent a small fortune in a couple of steaks that were chewy. I feel like throwing a brick through the store’s window.
Mall Stores:
Salt and Pepper from around the world!
Nipple Rings R Us
World of Headbands
Designer Skeet Shooting Pigeons.
A buddy of mine came down from Detroit and we went golfing…at 3:00 pm! It was damn near unbearable when we started and mid way through nine holes the small breeze stopped. I can’t recall the last time my underwear was that wet and I hadn’t fallen into a pool.
Ok, I’m in southern Ontario, its that little piece of land east of Detroit, north of Lake Erie and Ontario, and south of bumfuck nowhere. Its been 90 degrees here 30 to my metric friends, WTF, when I first moved here I’ve seen it snow here in May. I was glad to get out of the heat in TN when I moved here, now we have tornados in Montreal, unreal. Weather systems are changing my friends. Just saying.
Hey, another SWO invader! I think that makes four or five now. Yeah, I still find it a bit of anovelty to find “locals” poking around places centric to some obscure U.S location.
Missed the annual Memorial Day Parade in our little town. Full sun. No possibility of shade. No thanks. When I went last year, it was so hot, I think I actually grew a set of balls just to sweat them off. Fuck that royally.
I don’t know if the humidity affects anyone else like it does me….my hands and feet swell, I get bloated, slight nausea ensues, headache. Yeah. I hate the heat.
The USPS blows. It’s as simple as that. It’s unfortunate but what hell can you do. Their like the IRS….they just do whatever they want and get away with it. I ship things out of the country often. Every time I do, I just hand over the package and cross my fingers. Tracking stops one the package is out of the US. Selling on Etsy, EBay, any of them…if the package is lost, it’s the sellers responsibility to refund the buyer full price of the item. The post office workers could play soccer with your package and its your fault.
I thought they sucked, too – until I used the Italian postal system. It took two weeks for a birthday card to get to a town 50 miles away from me. I could have walked it there faster.
They make the USPS look positively competent!
****actually..
If the USPS both blows and sucks, it should have a future, either as a presidential candidate or Donald Trump’s next wife.
As for me, Memorial Days are not like they were in the old drunken times. I have reason to suspect that my chonson is coming down with fibromyalgia and the rest of me is half way between distopia and whatever Keith Richards has.
jtb
If the USPS both blows and sucks, it is in dynamic equilibrium. You learn this sort of thing in engineering school.
.
chill…
Let’s keep that all-important 4th dimension in mind. If it blows and sucks simultaneously, it is in dynamic equilibrium. If it blows and sucks sequentially, I’m not so sure. In either case, it remains eligible for Trump matrimony as long as it doesn’t muss his “hair”.
jtb
btw, I learned this sort of thing while I was studying cosmology. Or was it cosmetology?
jtb
Rage: Saturday night someone broke into my house and stole my BAT. Only the TV, they left the remote and power cord. Damn it. I had another waiting on deck but it’s a good 10 inches smaller. Bleah.
Came in through a window (Like Tyler) and then out the front door. Worst part was I was sleeping in the other room (sleeping one off really) so when I woke up I was like….uh where is my TV? But two doors were hanging open and the cats were missing. My wallet, laptop, and other TV were left alone.
Oh well, it’s only crap.
Store in the mall:
Nothing but Spiders
Some Soldering Required
Able’s Canes
Check the local pawn shops…
Yeah and craigslist.
t…. That’s fucked up. And scary.
I gotta agree with bikerchick…you can always get a new BAT but having your ass refitted is a whole nother game.
I agree.
Worse thing i ever had stolen were two really nice 35mm cameras back in 1997 in the virginia highlands area of atlanta. Also got a check book that i learned a lesson on.
t…hey man…just a thought…go to the pound and get a dog. Even a little ankle biter will do. Female I suggest. She’d at least wake you up making some noise so your .375 can make more if it needs to.
.357……..crap
Armed pitbull with AIDS on board!
Shop Name: The Cheese Junkie
I’d shop there.
.
A store that is sort of a ‘Bed, Bath and Beyond’ and ‘Linens and Things’ combined:
“Things and Beyond”
Fingerless Gloves, Inc.
The Hotdog Store (you can only buy hotdogs, not condiments or buns).
The Insult Hovel (you pay to walk into a small cubicle where a stranger hurls hurtful insults at you).
Sidewalk Chalk and Seasonal Fruits
Barf-bags
Safety Pins, Etc.
Madonna Bras for Men
Live Catfishes
Cock Portraits
Though the process as a whole was less rage-inducing than I had thought it was going to be, I found out some bastard got a hold of one of my credit card numbers this weekend. Despite trying their damned-est, Chase bank apparently still has some sense of how to conduct business, as they denied the $460 charge in Chicago. They cleared off all the charges with no questions asked and are sending me a new card as I sit here and surf. It’s a thing of beauty I tell you.
Happy Tuesday/Monday.
BJ’s Fans and Vacuums
Pagan Paradise
Inflatables
Ames Guns
Pull Your Own Pork.
Disguises and IDs
Sorry to hear about the PO Box
What a buncha douchebags!