Suck down some lemonade eBay buyers!

I got my first anonymous death threat today. I've been threatened before, but usually it's in person. Nah, this one was through the glory that is eBay. See, Mr. J wanted a new phone. His phone was crap, and he'd just gotten his stimulous check. He'd been looking for months. And finally picked out the Sidekick II as the one for him. There was just one problem. He didn't want to extend his contract with his company to get the new phone. Our solution? eBay!

He found one he liked. It was a limited edition, with some really cool pictures decorating it. He was going to buy it in the "Buy It Now" section, the area for people who don't want to risk being sniped. There was just one thing keeping him from buying it. Did it have Yahoo Instant Messenger on it? All the other Sidekick II's we saw had it, but this auction didn't specify. We e-mailed the seller. The seller never responded. We decided to take a risk. Mr J bought it. He didn't have an eBay account, and I did. So I let him use my eBay account and he paid through his PayPal account. (Really, I just let him use it, because I wanted the positive feedback on mine.)

We recieved the phone in no time. But were more than a little disappointed to see that it did not come with Yahoo. In fact, it didn't come with a lot of stuff we'd assumed it would. But we figured, oh well, our mistake for not reading it closely enough (the auction didn't mention it included an owner's manual, so we shouldn't have assumed. Shame on us.).

Then, in accordance with eBay tradition, I went online to leave feedback on the item. When leaving feedback on eBay (for those of you who have never done it), you have the option of leaving one of three types of feedback. Positive, neutral and negative. Positive raises your reputation level. The higher your level, the more trustworthy potential buyers will believe you to be. Negative lowers your reputation level. Neutral doesn't lower or raise your score. I didn't want to leave positive feedback, afterall, we weren't happy with the phone. We wouldn't have bought the phone if the seller and answered our question. But I figured it would be unfair to leave negative feedback. No one forced us to buy the phone. I chose to leave neutral feedback. And trying to remain neutral, I mentioned something I liked about the transaction and something I didn't.

Here is, word for word, the comment I left:
"Quick shipping, wouldn't answer any of my questions about the phone"

About five minutes later, I got a phone call on my cell phone. It was an angry man claiming to be the seller! Demanding why I had left a "negative feedback". I was floored, and more than a little scared. EBay sellers aren't suppose to be able to have access to your personal information. How did he get my phone number? I didn't know what to say, so I stammered out, "Because you didn't answer my question about the phone." The man on phone starts telling me that I'm a "stupid" "bitch" "whore" and that he's going to "get me" & "kill me". (I'm using the quotations to show that no, I'm not making this up.)

I've contacted the authorities within eBay, and may take this the local police in the city where this rude caller lives. (Caller ID + Reverse phone directory = I know what city you live in silly.) And while I'm still more than a little shaken up about the whole thing, I have to wonder... All this over a neutral feedback that doesn't affect you one bit? Someone's a little high strung, no?

On that note, please enjoy this video, that I feel has summed up the tone of the day



Life is a Lemon and I Want My Money Back
Written by Jim Steinman
Performed by Meat Loaf

I Love You Twinkie - The lost Memorial Day post

I've use to prank call my twin brother, Radio Active Slog. It stemmed from him not being able to tell me that he loves me in public. When I noticed that we couldn't say it, in front of people, I started calling him my "womb mate". And for a year it freaked him out. It really bothered him, every time I'd use the term, he'd get this truly disgusted look on his face. After that fun had worn off, I'm started calling his phone every day, at the same time, and telling him that I love him, and does he love me? Here's a rough transcription of all the phone calls lumped together.
*phone rings. R.A.S. answers*
R.A.S.: Hello?
Me: Hi! Whatcha doin'?
R.A.S.: I'm at a party, what do you want?
Me: I just wanted to tell you that I love you.
R.A.S.: Uh.. okay.
Me: Do you love me?
R.A.S.: Um, yeah, sure.
Me: Really?
R.A.S.: Really.
Me: Then say it.
R.A.S.: Say what?
Me: Say that you love your womb mate.
R.A.S.: Why?
Me: 'Cause if you can't say it, then you don't mean it.
R.A.S.: *sigh* fine. *whispering into the phone* I love you too.
R.A.S.: Did your friends hear you say that?
R.A.S.: Hold on... *sounds of him walking into another room* I love you too.
Me: How much do you love me?
R.A.S.: *monotone* Bunches.
Me: Good, because I was thinking. Remember those 8 months in the womb we spent together? We were so close.. I miss that. We need to bond. So, here's my idea. I talked to this guy who makes really big balloons, canvas ones, like hot air balloons, not latex ones.. anyway, he said that he could make us a big red balloon and fill it with jello! And we could live in it for 8 months, just like the first time.
R.A.S.:.......... what?
Me: Just think of it. All the time to catch up, no contact from the outside world, nothing to distract us, I think it's a great idea, don't you?
R.A.S.: You have got to kidding *nervous chuckle* are you going to make us matching t-shirts for it and everything?
Me: No, no clothes. It has to be as authentic as possible for the best recreation. You're going to have shave your head too.
R.A.S.:....................................
Me: Actually, you're going to have to shave everything. But don't worry, you won't be doing it alone Twinkie.
R.A.S.: Twinkie?
Me: Yeah, like the hostess snack, only it's twin-kie, you're my twin-kie, get it?
R.A.S.: You're really sick, you know that right?!
Me: You mean you don't want to do this?
R.A.S.: NO!
Me: But... but... I found a doctor who's willing to attach umbilical cords, they'll be purely cosmetic but it will add to the experience.
R.A.S.: I'm not doing this you... you... freak!
Me: But, I'm just trying to bring back the closeness we once had. I mean, after all, you won't even tell me that you .... love me anymore.
R.A.S.: Are you high on something?!
At about that point I faked hyperventilating and cried, about how he didn't love me, and I was just trying to show my love for my one and only twin. I filled my entire family in on this joke, so when he went to them, they would look blankly at him ask what he's freaking out about.He joined the Marines on Friday. He goes to boot camp in a few months. I won't be able to pull these kinds of hijinks much longer. And I will miss him.

To Do List Sale

I had something I wanted to post this weekend. I'd written it, it was perfect, and then I lost it. So, instead of just not posting anything this weekend, I posted this. Consider this a "Best of" post. It's from my old blog, from a long time ago. But I still like it, and I still feel this way.

I can't sleep. I find odd things to do when I can't sleep. One of my favorites is to watch infomercials. Especially the ones that want to make your breasts bigger. Wow, how awesome, yes please, double D just isn't big enough for me. I want to be so top-heavy that I can't walk in a straight line.

What is it about watching infomercials that I love so much, I have to wonder. I mean, everyone has to love eating potato chips while watching Tony Little sweat on his latest exercise machine, but those blenders? There's just no explanation. And those sewing kits! The ones that you just press one little button, and instantly, you have a dress to wear to the Grammy's. I love it! Just keep me away for the diet pill ads. Those are boring. And make feel fat.

The only good infomercials are 30 minutes long though. Those two minute ones that are now playing among the regular commercials, puh-lease, like you're really going to convince me that your dog-training video will work in a minute and thirty seconds. No, I need a full half-hour of bullshit first.

If they made two-hour infomercials and played them at movie theaters, I'd probably go see them. I wouldn't pay more than two bucks to see them, I'm that stupid, but it'd be great. In fact, I think someone should make that movie. And that someone may just be me. I'll just add it to my list of things I want to do, but never will.

I should sell that list to people who have lots of time and money. And I know just how long the commercial should be.

Tuna Machine

A few years ago, in an impromptu food fight with my little brother, a can of tuna got dumped onto our computer keyboard. For those of you unfamiliar with the contents in a tuna can, you have tuna, and then a liquid keeping the fish from drying out. As I'm sure you know, liquid and computers, specifically computer keyboards, do not mix. My computer was only six months old, and still fell under a wonderful warranty. So, my father drove my little brother and me (I couldn't drive yet, legally anyway) to the computer store where we handed over warranty paperwork to a young man behind an important looking counter. He typed something into the computer that he had, it spat a few things out of a printer that was also behind that pompous counter. He then asked us for the now broken keyboard. (Yes, we had it with us. Ha! You thought you knew where I was going with this, but you were wrong!) My father amicably handed it over with a slight nod. The computer store employee took it, typed a few more things into his working keyboard. This is about the time where he stopped making direct eye contact with any of us. He would look in our direction occasionally, but it was much more like he was looking through us, rather than at us. His nostrils flared slightly too. Magically, he pulled an exact copy of my keyboard out from under his luminous counter. It was in a nice new box and everything. The three of us, my father, brother and me, then started our short journey home. All the while wondering why the computer store employee never asked why the computer smelled of fish. I guess he figured there are just some questions you don't want answers to.

Welcome Post!

My mom read my blog for the first time yesterday. After I've written 50 plus entries. She's got some catching up to do. Get to work woman!

She also sent out the the address to my blog and my father's blog to a lot of her friends (if you were sent here by her, Hi. Glad you could make it. Make yourself at home, stay awhile.) She did this before she had read any of the entries of my blog, so if you're offended by anything here, don't blame her. But ask yourself, seriously, why are you such a prude? I thought it might be nice if I gave you little tour of the place. Over to the right, I have lots of cool things you can check out. If you have GoogleTalk, you can chat with me (unless I'm not online... sorry, 'bout that). You can click on the "Call Me" button to record a voice mail for me to listen to. (By recording me a message, I reserve the right to play it for my, and other's, amusement.) You can follow my twitter account below that. Look through my archive, all kinds of stuff.

Thanks for stopping by, come back soon?

Have you seen my dog anywhere?

I remember being a very small child, not knowing where babies came from. Then, my little brother showed up. My parents told me he had grown in Mommy's tummy, just like my twin brother and I had four years earlier. However I have learned, over the years, that that is a load of bull dookie! Babies don't come from the act of a mommy and daddy loving each other very, very much. It's from the same place I get my cabbages. The store.

In fact, there are many specialty stores that sell nothing but babies!

If these stores are suppose to be a secret, they're not doing a very good job. They advertise all over the internet, in the newspaper, billboards, everywhere.




And for all hopeful grandparents, you can get gift cards, so your kids can go pick out one they like. Where was this when I was playing house? I bet a real baby would be a lot cheaper than Suzy Wetz-a-lot.



For those of you rushing for your keys so you can go to the store and get your very own baby, I have a warning. Don't get a baby on clearance, unless you're just interested in harvesting it's organs. Especially if it has more than one red tag, or the dreaded brown tag (a returned baby).There is nothing more of a faux paus than last season's baby.

Evil Kittens

These are two of my cats.




Some have personalities that mimic famous royals and dictators in history. Perhaps your cat has a sense of humor similar to Napoleon. Or your little kitten occasionally looks at you in a way to suggest “Let them eat cake.” My two cats remind me of a different type of leader. To mark their names in history, they are single-handily wiping the entire species of catnip mouse off the face of the earth.



Vixen has even created a camp under the couch to store them when she’s not ripping them limb from limb. Mr. J and I have tried to rescue them. Adolf Hitler and Pol Pot, I mean Vixen and Eve, just herd them back under there. I’ve told them I won’t give them any more kitty treats until the genocide stops.

Monkey Lord's Lover

What follows below are actually from February. Monkey lord, my little brother, had turned 18, and I needed to make him a birthday present to celebrate his entry into adulthood.


I had been wondering about my brother's sexual orientation for years. Was Monkey Lord straight, was he gay? Which was it?! When suddenly, it came to me. He's asexual. Armed with this information, I told him that if he disappeared into the woods and six months later came back with a very hairy baby, I would know he had finally reproduced. I would be happy for him.

He responded that if he came back with a baby, it would be because he had mated with a bear.

So, for his birthday, I made him this.



I blocked out the brand of the bear, for fear of being sued.



Notice it's named "Bedtime Bear."



Took some scissors to it's seam...



Had to take out some stuffing...



Lots of stuffing...



To make room for this!



It's so weird looking.



Some pushing and shoving, and viola!



Of course we had to play with it before giving it to my brother.



The ears make great handles.



Happy Birthday Chris!

The Danger of Lurking

I admit it openly, I am a lurker. I have more than a handful of blogs that I read everyday (the list just keeps growing of how many) and I don't comment on a single one. (At least I didn't. I recently started commenting on Anti-Social Networking, but that's more of a community than a blog, but back to the topic at hand.) Not a damn one. I didn't see the harm in it either. Until today. Standing outside, I met the writer of one of my preferred blogs. She started her blog a few months ago, and that's when I found it. I've been reading it since the beginning. She just got a job with the company I work for. We work in the same building, on the same floor. We take our breaks in the same floor. I know a lot about her, and she doesn't know about it. Awkward. I feel like a flippin' stalker. Don't let this happen to you!

Her friggin' blog is bookmarked on my computer. I am such an idiot....

Ken's new girlfriend?

Barbie and her friends were happy for a day at the beach, until Kristy pointed someone out to Barbie. Ken! But who's that with him?



Sidney! The last winner of America’s Next Top Model! Just great, maybe the girls will get lucky and the two lovebirds won’t notice them.



Guess not.



Barbie, this is Sidney. Sidney, this is Barbie.



Sidney says, “Thanks for letting me come over here to change into my swimsuit.”



But what are those scars on her ribs? When asked Sidney admits to having some “work done”. Like removing a few ribs to get a “girlish figure”.



“Well, thanks for letting me change here, see ya’ around.”



The three friends gossiped while changing. They all agreed, there was something weird about the model, Sidney.



Her hips were much narrower then they’d ever seen on a girl.



Her hands were large for a girl of her height.



And she wore a size 14 shoe.



Could it be that Ken's new girl, Sidney, was once a boy, named Sid?

Blad Dream

I once had a dream where I was house hunting. (But my house hunting gun was out being cleaned, so it was a visual hunt only.) Mr. J and I were being given a tour of this one HUGE house with fountains and canals in the hallway. It had seventeen bedrooms, twelve bathrooms and a skylight on all six of the fours. Every time we were done with one room, there was another room to be explored. It was furnished with oriental screens, and Egyptian chaise lounges. It looked like a house from a silent movie. Except there was a toilet in every room. Every room. Sometimes even more than one toilet. Whatever silent movie star had lived there before must have had a bladder problem. And since you never know what the future would have in store for our bladders, we made an offer on the place.

Don Tolman wants to put his banana in your avacado.

I recently got an e-mail forwarded to me detailing how "every whole food has a pattern that resembles a body organ or physiological function and that this pattern acts as a signal or sign as to the benefit the food provides the eater."

Example:

"A sliced Carrot looks like the human eye. The pupil, iris and radiating lines look just like the human eye...and YES science now shows that carrots enhance blood flow to and function of the eyes."

I was curious as to whether there was any truth to it or not. However I got derailed. When you enter the example above, word for word, into Google, the first website listed is Don Tolman's International website. On that page he claims that "Bananas, Cucumber, Zucchini and more target the size and strength of the male sexual organ." & "Peanuts have a profound effect on the testicles and sexual libido."

The man has also stated that skin cancer doesn't come from being out in the sun, but from "some of the ingredients in sunblock." And that all cancer can be cured by eating "stone fruit". (Stone fruit, by the way, is a fruit with the fruity flesh surrounding a shell that covers the plant's seed. Like a peach, or a mango.)

Mr. Tolman not only wants to cure you of all disease with fruit, but he also wants to sell them to you! In fact, he spent 17 years searching for a biblical miracle food, called the "pulse", that can help you lose weight, gain muscle, get smarter, cure all illness/disease, give you energy, and create world peace. Okay, I added the last one.

He's also hoping that you'll sign up to learn about a new work-at-home business opportunity, selling his products to your friends and neighbors. This sounds a little bit to much like Herbalife to me. Only fronted by an idiot.

And all this started by an e-mail forward...

Seriously? Bananas can increase the size of your "male sex organ"?! Am I going to become a transsexual from eating cucumbers in my salad? If I feed Mr. J too many peanuts, will he start humping my leg? (Well, actually, if I gave him too many peanuts... he'd die. Mr. J's allergic to peanuts.)

Mirror Mirror on the Wall

Myspace is like a magic mirror sometimes. When you're feeling nostalgic, you can look back at all of your old friends, and see how they're getting on with you life. (Sure you could e-mail them, but remember, there might be a reason you aren't friends anymore.) It's nice to see who got married to whom, who went to college, who came out of the closet, and the most important who got really fat! Through the magic of the Internet I can find all of my old friends from school (K-12), all the members of the bulletin board I use to frequent (back when that was cool), old co-workers, family members we all thought had died (or at least hoped), but I can't find my little brother's myspace page to save my life! He's living in the black hole of the Internet. Let me know if you see Monkey Lord around.

It's not oreo filling...

Do you see all the white spots in that picture? I wish I could say it was snow. But it's not. So what is it? It flows through the air light, like feathers. But it's not feathers.



Here's a less saturated area. You might not be able to tell, but it's fluffy, as if it was shed bunny fur. But... it's not bunny fur.



Here's some more, clumped into a ball. It looks similar to cottonwood seeds that float through the air this time of year. But, as I'm sure you've guessed it, it's not cottonwood seeds.

This, is a by-product of global warming. The ice at both the north and south poles are melting. So the inhabitant's of the colder climates have to find a way to cool off. That's right, that white fluff, is Santa's back hair. Mrs. Claus shaved it off her husband so he wouldn't sweat so much this summer. For the love of god people, please start recycling, this stuff is all around town...

What happened after the "flush"

What the underwater camera found “around the bend”.



Dead bodies?!!



Why is that girl naked?



Oh, the humanity!



Who would do this?

An evil mermaid and her octopus minion, but why?

Because none of them brought a towel. Run… Swim… er, float away underwater camera! Float away FAST!