Archive for the Lame and stupid crap Category

Frustrations on the Home Front

Posted in Asshats, Diva's Bitchin, Here's Some Philosophy, Lame and stupid crap, life in my house, Nasty Filthy Places, Those People I Live With on April 9, 2011 by catscratch

Since the last big bit of crap I got for my sarcasm and anxt, I have been pretty much keeping my opinion and complaints about life to myself…

Sometimes, venting (even if it’s just to blow off steam and really means nothing to anyone but me) can backfire… literally.

Whatever.  I’m just as full of sarcasm and anxt and pretty much miserable with life in this house.  All I can say is choose carefully before you make a big, fat, wrong life choice like getting married. 

I mean there are ALOT of factors involved in compatibility, and people should really pay attention to those factors.  Unlike yours truly.


I can’t tolerate his daughter.  She is horrible.  She won’t work and try to support herself.  She moves out. She moves back in. She moves out. She moves back in.  She steals from us, and when I say steal, she wiped him out.  She lies and denies.  She’s lazy. 

And at this point, toleration isn’t anything I can make myself feel.  I look over at her and I get angry.  I hear her voice and I cringe.  I see her eating and it makes me sick.  That’s all the girl does is eat, sit, sleep and run the roads.  God forbid she get a job.  God forbid she try to buy her own shampoo, soap, hair dryer. 

Why work when Daddy will keep letting her go in my room and use my things.


When me & Big T were just dating, he played himself to be a real family man.  He played himself off as someone who enjoys being around friends and interacting with people.  Yah, not so much. 

It is so easy for someone to fake someone else out when they aren’t together 24/7.  This man doesn’t do anything.  Nothing.  He sits on the couch and smokes cigarettes. 

Chain smoker.  Now, don’t get me wrong.  I smoke.  But it’s a pack every couple of days. Sometimes less.  This man goes through a carton of smokes in three or four days.  He’s not the healthiest person to begin with, but at this point, his health is his problem.  He doesn’t care, why should I?  But, my house SMELLS SO BAD.  And it’s impossible to get the stink out.   

He is lazy as his daughter and son.  He sits all day and the stupid dogs, which nobody wants to take out when I’m not home, apparently pee somewhere in this house.  I don’t see it, but I can smell it and it disgusts me.

I’m a neat freak and there is no way for me to live the way I want to in this house.  I work 55 or more hours a week.  None of these people that live in this house work.. or do house work.  I come home to dirty dishes pile high in the sink.  I come home to cook after I clean the kitchen and then I clean it again.  I have to dust and vacuum.  I have to scrub the toilets.  God forbid any of them do anything around here.

SEX – What the hell is that?  After four years of marriage, I do believe I could be certified as a re-confirmed virgin, and that my friends isn’t by choice.

What to do??

Load Shooters, Holy Rollers & Breast Milk Recipes

Posted in Asshats, Lame and stupid crap, sex on October 23, 2008 by catscratch

These goodies were found in Knoxville’sMetroPulse and were originally written by Chuck Shepherd with some sarcasm and commentary by yours truly here and there.

Although I claim to be a kleptomaniac (pens, lighters, staplers…), plagiarism isn’t my forte. 


Drive-by Fireworking

A 30-year-old man appears to be the most recent person to attempt to throw burning fireworks at a target while travelling in a car, but having the toss fail to clear the window and thus explode inside the car.  He was hospitalized.

Not my Weed, Dude!

Two 18-year-old men spotted police approaching their trailer park home in Salina, Kansas.  They panicked, and tossed illegal drugs out the window.  However, the police were there to originally to serve warrants on a neighbor and saw the drugs fly out the window.  The men were arrested.

Damn the luck.  I suppose if I had me a dime bag of smoke, I’d be all panick stricken too. NOT.  From what I understand it wasn’t enough for a charge of possession with intent to sell.  And they say pot doesn’t make a body paranoid.

The Dude Shot a Load.

Police in Ft. Meyers, Florida, said Jonathan Guabello got angry that his girlfriend had denied him sex when they returned home from bar hopping one night.    So, he left the room, shot himself twice in the arm, fell down and hit his head.  He knocked himself out.

Note to dear Jonathan….  What the hell were ya thinkin shooting yourself in the arm?  I mean, before you went stupid at least you had the opportunity for a dynamic solo performance.

Come On Baby, Light My Fire!

Another asshat was frustrated when his girlfriend kept falling asleep one night during sex.  He retaliated by attempting to set her van on fire.  Then he was promptly arrested.

Nothing turns me on more than a man who will torch my vehicle over sex.  Wait.  I actually think I might just be that frustrated.  Anybody got a match?

Can I Get an Amen??

Atlanta Pentecostal preacher, who has been divorced not once but twice, Thomas Meeks, said that he was talking about making himself the star in a  new reality show, “Holy Hook-Up: Who Will Be the Next Mrs. Meeks?”

There is no way in hell (or heaven) that I would hook up with a tainted preacher.  I mean, the man appears to go through women like kleenex.  No way.

Scattered, Smothered, Covered and Dunked!

The Storchen restaurant in Switzerland plans to introduce entrees cooked in
women’s breast milk.

There are no words.

Emo Kids, Sporties & Politicians

Posted in friggin hilarious, Lame and stupid crap, media asshats, Stupid Celebrity Shit on October 17, 2008 by catscratch

Thanks again for the truck loads of love and support while I’m being all emo.

I don’t feel nearly as emo today as I have the past couple of days. 

Seriously, I think by letting crap get to me, that I’m making things worse simply because I get all whiny.  When things don’t go like they should, it baffles me and then I convince myself that life is going straight to hell.  When it’s really not.

People go through all kinds of stuff all of the time.  The difference between different people is how they handle said stuff. 

Anyways, I’m letting the sunshine in (for now) and focusing on the good things.  Ain’t it funny how we don’t see the good things sometimes because of the clouds??  Perspective.

Even though Miss A has given me a run for my money, she is still alive and relatively healthy and here to give me shit.  One of my friends lost a daughter 3 years ago.  ‘

Finances are a jumble.  So what.  At least I have a job so I can try to keep up with the payments.  Alot of folks have already lost their homes.  😦

Anyway, I’m trying to look at it from the have/have not stand point.  I have alot of things to be happy and thankful for.  Family, friends, a job…   Sometimes I just need to be kicked in the ass so I remember it ain’t all that bad.

Yah, let’s lighten up.

More quotes.  This time from the lovable sporty types:

“If only faces could talk…”
– Pat Summerall, Sportscaster, during the Super Bowl

“I may be dumb, but I’m not stupid.”
– Terry Bradshaw, Former football player/announcer

“When you say I committed adultery, are you stating before the marriage of 1996 or prior to?” — Dallas Cowboys cornerback Deion Sanders

“The word ‘genius’ isn’t applicable in football. A genius is a guy like Norman Einstein.”
– Joe Theisman, quarterback and sports analyst

These go under the heading off NO SHIT SHERLOCK (Yep, those politicians are bright):

“I think war is a dangerous place.”
– George W. Bush, Washington, D.C. (May 7, 2003)

“I love California, I practically grew up in Phoenix.”
– Dan Quayle, former U.S. Vice President

“Outside of the killings, Washington has one of the lowest crime rates in the country.”
– Mayor Marion Barry, Washington, DC

“I think gay marriage is something that should be between a man and a woman.”
– Arnold Schwarzenegger

“We are not ready for an unforeseen event that may or may not occur.”
– Dan Quayle, former U.S. Vice President

“They misunderestimated me.”
– George W Bush, Bentonville, AK

Gentleman Jack, Santana and Tinkle Pants

Posted in Diva's little public service notices, Hangover City, Lame and stupid crap, music, Obscene Drinkin on September 24, 2008 by catscratch

This was just leaked and I may have my knees broken for spreading it:



I find it odd that I can be on my rounds to the regular blogs I stalk and one of them will send me into Flashback City, thinking about something I had either purposely blocked out or had honestly forgotten about.

Well, today was one of those days.  I was hanging out over at Moooog’s pad, Mental Poo.

My flashback doesn’t exactly mirror his, but his key word of Pee-Pee-Pants, send my mind a-reelin back to the past.

It was nine years ago this week that I got a call from a friend of mine in Santa Barbara.  Let’s call him SBsnoopy.  So, SBs goes on to tell me that Santana is playing October 1st, my birthingday, at the SB Bowl.  

He goes on to tell me that he has tickets to the show and that I should bring my butt to the Nashville Airport on September 30th to catch a flight to LA so that I might join them at the concert the next day.

So, I took the kids to their Dad, went to the airport and got on the plane.  I got to LAX that evening, and there he was standing outside the gate with a bunch of wild flowers and a baggie full of sand.  Awesome!

We gathered my bag and took off from the Airport toward his place in SB.  When we got there, I pulled out 2 bottles of Green Label Jack.  He has always been a lover of Jack and Green Label is only sold in TN, so I bringed him a present.  Not that it’s better than regular Jack.  It’s not.  It’s way harsh, but it was something he could add to his collection.

So, we had a birthday toast Green Label jack with its cherry freshly popped.  Then we had another one. And another one.  We sat out in the garden talking and drinkin until it was time to go sleepy.  We went in the house, curled up and it was all over.

The next day, I woke up ok, we broke snacks out with a bottle of wine and it all started over again.

He told me Wayne, another friend, heard I was in town and that he was coming by with some of our other friends to say howdy.   Of course, they saw the Jack on the table and the toasting and shots were on again.

So, 7:00 rolls around.  We drove down to his Mom’s place, which is only about 2 blocks from the Bowl.  We walk up the hill and find our place in the pit.  Front and Center my friends. 

Let me tell ya friends.  Santana, on a cool October night, with an even cooler buzz is a BAD ASS show to see.  All the smoke and light effects pulsing along with the music.  Saaa-weet.

Anyhoo.  Show over, time to go.  But wait.  I gotta pee. 

Problem.  The line to the little girls room is at least 34 miles long.

“No worries” says SBs.  “We’ll catch a porta-potty on the way down the hill.”

Great.  But, in a pinch I was willing to deal with it.

So, these porta-potties are on the way down the hill, literally.  Sitting.On.A.Hill.

Me + too much Jack x hilly porta-potty = Disaster.

I get in there.  It’s dark.  I thought I had my jeans down enough to hit the spot and nothing else.


I tinkled ALL. OVER. My. JEANS. 


Lesson learned.  Never try to pee in a porta-potty if you don’t feel stable enough to squat.

Fat Rolls, Butt Cracks & Saddle Bags

Posted in Asshats, Gaggery, Lame and stupid crap on September 5, 2008 by catscratch


SLICK, , I swear the first cold beer (in about 3 hours) will be popped open and a toast will be offered up in your honor.  You, my friend, are a hard workin man. 

I have muddled (heh, muddled what a word) my way through my first week being Master of the Financial universe.  Kudos to me.  I’m not shy, I can say it.

I didn’t manage to get everything on my LIST OF SHIT TO DO list done… but that’s why there’s always a next week, and a week after that, and a week after that.

On the downside, my poor blog (for what it’s worth) has suffered as well as my insatiable habit of stalking all of the blogs I stalk on a daily basis.

What did I miss while I was M.I.A. ??

Random Chick had a pity party and I missed it.  Dammit.   Mike went on a hunt for Palin Porn.  Trukindog dedicated a song to me.   Chuck came out of hiding. 

But, I think I’m close to catching up.  Go me!

Today, I’d like to post about folks who really need to rethink their fashion… or lack thereof. 

 First up.  The unhidden bra.   If you plan to wear a cute little sundress, please have the tits to hold it up without sharing your bra with us.  I actually thought the little dress was cute for hanging at the lake, a weekend BBQ or making a run to the WalMart.  But, come on. 

The muffin top.    We all know I’m no Barbie Doll.  So, these are rules I abide to myself.  If you have a set of saddle bags, keep them covered with either a shirt that fits or pants that aren’t low-rise.

Farmer Joe Suspenders.  Please put on a shirt, sir.  You’re scaring my kids.

 If you have as extremely noticable cellulite and/or rolling thunder thighs, please do not advertise yourself with writing across your ass.  It should be one word. Not two.

Generally only gym wenches (you know who you are) and teenagers can get away with this.

Again, we go back to the bra issue.  Only this time somebody might consider slinging the girls into one rather than letting the drag. I suggest a trip to Lane Bryant.  They have wonderfully sexy bras for girls that aren’t a size 5.

 Also, I note the spillage over the top of the shorts.    What can we learn here?  If you can’t fit what you got into the size you’ve picked, then you’ve picked the wrong size. 

Please don’t wear dark or bright colored panties, and avoid the monkey printerd panties for that matter, if you should decide to wear an ensemble of white.


This is never really that sexy.  Please note that I bitch about the boys running around with the boxers hanging out the top… same goes here.  Get undies that fit or bigger pants.

If there’s too much to fit, don’t wear it. 

I, however, do find this amuzing.  If I found it out somewhere I would add it to my daughter’s wardrobe for weekend wear in a heartbeat!

 Have a wonderific weekend!



Roadtrips, Wildcats & Recycled Posts

Posted in Lame and stupid crap, weddings on August 29, 2008 by catscratch

Okie dokie boys and girls.  No, the big, bad, fugly, hateful critics didn’t scare me off.  No.

Sometimes work comes a knockin and I have to run off and do actual work.  This is exactly what happened this week.  I went the opposite direction of Huntsville, Alabama this time. 

Yes, friends, I went to Kentucky.  Which under normal circumstances is a wonderful thing.  I love Kentucky.  I love the horses they breed.  I love the Derby.

What I don’t love is the Kentucky Wildcats this time of year…


Anyways, I’ve recycled this post from last year before the wedding because I’m on the road.  I’ll be around to give everybody fiesty comments and wet slobbery kisses Saturday morning!


So, this wedding hasn’t exactly went off without a hitch… If I don’t end up in a padded room by the end of this thing it will be a miracle..

Leave us recap all of the issues, shall we?

**I mean, the date has been changed from July 14th to June 2nd and now (officially) September 29th.

**My stepbrother (the preacherman) was who was supposed to officiate the ceremony, ceremoniously backed out on me without letting me know.

**My chinese torture underwear has been returned for the proper size, yet the company has yet to send the replacement (the bastards).

**I am now going to have to reschedule AGAIN with the dress alteration lady.

GAAAA!!!! Then there is the issue with the cake.

Now call me simple-minded. But ain’t cake, cake? Nothing more, nothing less?
At least that is what I thought when I started all this.

My original cake lady gave me the schpeel about how her cakes cost from $2 – $2.50 per serving. Now, I’m thinkin, if all of these folks that have been invited to this here illustrious event show, I’m gonna end up shellin out around $450 for a cake.
Cake, kids. Flour, eggs, oil, frosting. A cake. She cuts me a deal, and agrees on $230.00 set up and all.

Well, when the wedding got cancelled twice, I ended up losing the original cake lady. Which I was really bummed about, because although it was ass expensive, she was talented enough to make me the cake I wanted:

But alas, Elaine is looney and completely booked from now until Jesus comes back.

So, Olga (my boss) comes in this past Monday morning and says “Dude, you know when one door closes, another one opens.” She had found someone, quite by accident, that does cakes. Yay!

Or so I thought. So, the lady calls me. We discuss the cake and how many I need to feed with this cake and so on… She goes on to tell me that she doesn’t do that pricing by the piece stuff. I was thinking, “are you for real? You rock cake chick!”.

So, she says give her a day or so to work on pricing and she’d get back to me. Well, today was the day. The phone range this morning and I was thrilled to be hearing back from her so promptly.

She says she can do the cake (mind you, I downsized from the original cake, so it was smaller). And she’ll do the cake for a measley $550.00.

Sweet Holy Jesus, I almost fell over. Since I was at the office and unable to pass out right that second, I settled for my jaw dropping so far it hit my desk.

I thanked her kindly for her call, and told her I had to get in touch with my Mama since she is the one paying for it. We’ve decided to forego the half thousand dollar delight and put the blame on my Mom. She’ll never know.

Anyway, off to Food City I go, as in a previous grocery foraging expedition, I noted in the back of my mind, that they have cakes for all occassions.

Seriously, who give two shakes of pig poo if the things tastes like sweet cardboard. It’s still cake. Like anybody will eat it anyway.
Well, anybody other than my paternal grandfather would would eat the leather off of a shoe if it had icing on it.

They are going to prepare me a cake, that althought it ain’t nearly what I wanted to begin with, will do. Especially for the $$.

For a mere $160 plus tax, we are getting a mighty fine work of edible art.

But still, I beg of you this answer… Ain’t a cake, a cake?
I could just as easily go to Sam’s and get a mac sized cake for $21.99. And they’ll even airbrush Spiderman on it if I want. =)

A Shitty Review, Karaoke & Bad Ass Bitches

Posted in And a big FUCK YOU, Asshats, It's All About MeMeMe Beeeyach!, karaoke, Lame and stupid crap, music on August 26, 2008 by catscratch

So, I got a shitty review.  Big fucking deal, eh?

Apparently, I am not worthy of this space on the Internet and there is a huge following over at Ask & Ye Shall Receive who agree.

I really hope everyone who comes here, who I consider blog friends/family, realize that when I’m saying stupid things about my friends or family, that it’s all in fun and that I mean no harm.

I know I’m a good wife, mother and friend.  My little feelings are just hurt.

Sure, I submitted my bullshit for a review.  A REVIEW… not a feast for a bunch of blood hungry fucking vultures.  But hey, ya get what ya pay for.   I got exactly jackshit.  A bunch of no life asshats sitting over there shooting out insults and calling names.

Eh, whatever.  To my new friends at Ask & Ye Shall Receive



I’m a karaoke junkie.   Started by accident really.

Across the street from hell my employer at that time, I go to BullFeathers… found it interesting to see and hear all the folks trying to sing a song.

It was a few weeks before I’d gathered up the nerve to eek out a song.

I sang Manic Monday by the Bangles. And I sucked big time!

But, drunks love karaoke and don’t make fun of anybody.  They just cheer louder when ya suck.

I was almost as bad as Cameron Diaz when in My Best Friend’s Wedding.

I told my Dad that I was having a blast and that he should come out and play too.

For anybody wondering why they call me Diva… it’s all my Dad’s fault.  He started it and it caught on.

He went out and bought me a home karaoke machine after that. Go Dad!

I tried to sing me some country. Um, let’s just go with NOT.  I was told I haven’t got enough ‘twang’ in my voice to sing any kind of country. Thank God!!! Diva don’t got no twang!!!!
Scratch country.

So, it’s the elevator/coffee shop stuff I’ve found I’m pretty good at.
I can sing the shit out of Fleetwood Mac. Diva Nix over here.
Love Norah Jones and any kind of oldie but goodie.

This is my speed:

stevie nicks

But sometimes, I’d love to have a little more of a brazen streak. I want to belt out something that only a bad-ass-chick would do.

Janis Joplin belts out Bobby McGee.


Joan Jett embraces her nasty girl side with Do Ya Wanna Touch.

joan jett

And Heart whips the shit out of Magic Man.


Not that I’m knocking my easy listening and soft rock talent, but…

Why can’t I be a bad-ass??

Delivery Boys, Stupid Girls & Fate

Posted in Flashbacks, Lame and stupid crap, Mushy Love Stuff on August 19, 2008 by catscratch

Fate is an evil whore.

It was around 9:15 on a sultry summer Tennessee Saturday night. 

I was 16 and I was the shit.  At least I thought I was.

I was babysitting and the kid was hungry.  As it still is, I was lazy and didn’t want to cook anything nor clean up the mess.

What to do? What to do?   Pizza.  Kids like pizza.

I rang up the local Domino’s and by 10:00 our pizza was at the door.

The bell rang and I went to the door.

Dammit.  He’s hot.

He smiled. I smiled. I gave him the money and watched him strut back to his ride.

What to do?  I wanted to talk to this guy.

Pizza.  Kids like pizza.

I rang up the local Domino’s and by 11:00 our pizza was at the door.

The bell rang and I went to the door.

Dammit.  He’s hot.  I’m gonna talk to him this time.

Just so happens I didn’t realize there are other delivery dudes.   

Just so happens he recognized the address and snatched it so he could come back and talk to me.

We commenced talking while the kid ate disgustingly huge amounts of pizza and watched Nightmare on Elmstreet.

The kid went to sleep at some point as we sat on the front porch talking.

We must have lost track of time, because my mother came outside, still half asleep and obviously annoyed.

“Are you A?”  She asked.

“Yes Ma’am.”  He answered.

“Well, your boss just called and asked if you’d been here yet since you left 3 hours ago.  You might want to go back to work.  You (talking to me) get your ass back in this house.”

And that’s how it happened. 

Hind sight shows me that Pizza Boy was a poison pill.

But, on that fateful night, my future was sealed.

Anybody else meet anybody in an odd, weird or unusual way?

BBQ, Parmesan & Fire Sauce

Posted in Asshats, Diva's Bitchin, Lame and stupid crap, sucky customer service, The Soapbox, you are a psycho on August 14, 2008 by catscratch

What in the hell is with the people who run fast food??? 

I started thinking about how friggin tight that fast food places are with condoms condiments. 

Why would I be thinking of such a frivolous and tedious thing?

Well, today I wandered around this huge mecca that is Oak Ridge, Tennessee in a quest to forage something for lunch.

I was a tad early and was actually out during lunch rush, so every place on my route was totally jam packed and not worth the wait.

I ended up at Chick-Fil-A (one of my most favoritest places and a close runner up to Taco Hell).

Well, I ordered my regular.  Kids Chicken Nugget Meal w/a Large Diet Coke.

This renders just enough deep fried goodness to get me through until I go home and make dinner for the ingrates family.

Anyhoo.  I know that I’m demanding and that it’s alot to ask, but WHY OH WHY must I beg for that one extra little container of BBQ sauce? 

Is it fucking gold? 

I. Think. Not.

I dip my yummy criss-cross fries in it.  I dip the little deep-fried nuggets in it.  Hell, I’d dip my straw in it and drink it.


But, the old broad who is the guardian of the sauce packets was hoarding them.

Old Broad:  “Any sauces today?”

Me:  “Extra BBQ, please.”  (Note I was being sweet. I said PLEASE).

Old Broad threw 2 in my bag of deep fried goodness and turned around to walk away.

Me:  “Ma’am?  Does 2 mean you gave me one extra?”

Old Broad: “Our policy is 2 sauces for a kids meal.”  She smiled sweetly.

Me:  “Then can I have 2 more?”

Old Broad:  Slings one more in the bag with an annoyed look on her face.

Me:  Standing there staring at her.  At this point it was principle.

Old Broad:  Slung one more in the bag and asked, “Would you like a manager?”

Me:  “No. You finally gave me my sauce.  Have a great desert day.”

Then I started thinking (dangerous).  Taco Hell is greedy, too.  This is true, straight from a manager at Taco Hell… “It’s our policy to give 1 packet of mild, hot or fire sauce per item unless a customer specifically asks for more.”

WTF is up with fast food policies???? 

As much as they charge for a fucking taco nowdays, I should be able to have a case of that shit with every order as our orders are usually huge due to the kids and all of their friends.

Anyways, for spite, after going through drive through and getting an ungodly amount of crap asked for lots of sauce.  I’m talking like 30 tacos and 15 burritos and other random items.  The dude gave us 10 packets.  He counted them out.  Prick.

Did I ask for extra?  Yes. 

Did I get extra?  Fuck no.

So, I decided to be a total bitch (surprising, eh?). 

I parked the car.  Emptied one of the small bags into one of the other bags.   I took the freshly emptied bag and walked into the Taco Hell lobby.   I grabbed every pack of mild sauce that I could shove into that bag and walked out.   The kid at the counter just stood there with his mouth open.So now. At least when I go to Taco Hell, we don’t have to ask for any sauce at all.

Well, until we run out.

Other places that are tightwads:

Fazolis: tight with parmesan cheese and crushed red pepper.

Booger King: totally tight with ketchup.

Harvest Buffet:  totally tight with the fortune cookies… the dicks.

Ever have any fast food annoyances of your own?  Please share.


My daughter sent me this picture of Lil T.  He’s such a friggin ham.

Oh yah.  Go see my picture blog.  I’m shameless when it comes to self promo.

Telemarketers + Boredom = Yusuki Wang

Posted in Bored out of my friggin mind, friggin hilarious, Lame and stupid crap, Those Damn Solicitors on August 12, 2008 by catscratch

So, we get bombarded with uberous amounts of telemarketing calls every day at the office.

I’m usually not very nice to these poor people.

I know they are just doing their job, but for fuck sake… Go back to school, get a degree and get a real job not bothering the people who already have a real job.

It’s pretty simple.  But…

Some days I’m bored with work, and porn *snicker*,  and Pogo games, and blogging,  so I may entertain a telemarketer for a few minutes if what they say off the bat is interesting enough to make me release the mouse and stop popping the balloons hanging on my monitor.

Mind you, I never know if it’s my boss calling from Germany, so I always, ALWAYS answer the phone in an oh-so-pleasant voice… until I find out who it is.

“Good Morning, how may I help you?” Note how pleasant that is.

“Hello, Ma’am. This is Sherri. I’m calling from Fairfield with a wonderful offer that we thought you may be interested in.”

I say, “Oh, really? What kind of offer do you have there, Sherri?”

Sherri goes on her schpeeeeel now:
“Well, we are calling to offer to individuals who have been pre-qualified in your area, the opportunity to come stay for a week at one of our several resorts, your choice. All you have to do is come and listen to a presentation about the property and take a tour. We do have a small fee to cover taxes and meals, but the stay itself if complimentary. What do you think?”

I decided what the fuck. I’m bored. I’ll play along.

So I say “Can I ask you to hold one sec.” 

I need to get OG to play along.  I run into Olga’s office and tell her the story and she’s all ready to play along. So, I get back on the phone.

I pick the phone back up and start off….
“Thanks, Sherri. I’m glad you held for me, I’d like to consider signing up. I could use a vacation. You said there is no obligation?”

Sherri says, “No. No obligation at all.”

I ask, “How much is this fee you were talking about.”

Sherri says, “Only $275.00 and you can even put it on your Visa or Mastercard.”

I say, “I can put it on a credit card? But I don’t have a credit card. My partner keeps them and she won’t let me charge anything. Let me put her on the phone.”

Olga gets on the phone, “Hello?”

Sherri: “Hi. I’m Sherri from Fairfield.”

Olga: “What is this deal that you have TheDiva so excited about that she wants the credit card right now?”

Sherri goes through her whole schpeeeeel again.

Olga says, “Well, I don’t think we are interested. I do not want to get tied up in a timeshare type deal and I know all about this kind of scam. Since we aren’t married we aren’t qualified for any kind of couple deals or anything.”

Sherri: “Can you put Rhonda back on the phone?”

Olga: “Well, it would be pointless to put her back on the phone since she has no money and no credit cards and since she won’t do anything without my permission. Have a nice day now, ok?”

At least if Sherri was on an hourly wage, she made her money honestly that day.

Other telemarketers that are fun to jerk around are the ones that call occassionally to “check on the make and model of the office copier”.  Their scam is to get you to tell them the make/model of the copier and then they will, in turn, ship you toner that you didn’t want and invoice you.

Then if you don’t pay the invoice they try to send you to collections. 

I have a page from the Xerox catalog.  The most Mac copier you’d ever see.  With ass expensive toner.

 So, I tell them the Xerox copier and they tell me they will go ahead and ship it.  To who’s attention shall they ship?

I always tell them to ship to Yu-Suki Wang.  That way when they try to make us pay for the stock of toner we have just sitting back there, we can deny, deny, deny.  We don’t have that copier, nor do we have an employee by that name.

Come on, folks… it’s all in fun.


On a happy note.  School has FINALLY started back up and those teenagers in my house are officially Seniors!  Go teenagers!  You will be graduated and have the ability to get out and rul the world on  your own like you keep spouting about in less than one  year.  I wish you luck.  If you need me, you’ll be able to reach me through OG, she’ll have a phone number to my secret Catscratch location.

Oh, I’m super dooper excited over here.  My next post will be the BIG 200.

I can’t believe I’ve managed to find so much shit to spew forth about.

Cheerio, people!