I don't like spam

I don't like spam.

I'm not talking about the mystery meat-in-a-can that you fry up with eggs and bacon.

I mean the stuff that gets served to my email inbox every morning, afternoon and night.

I try to stop it, but it's like trying to keep ants out of my house. Every time I block off one place that they're coming from, they find another way in. I must get a hundred junk emails every day.

I do not need penile enlargement (although I have to admit that I know several people who do.) I do not want to buy prescription drugs from "reliable" overseas pharmacists who have no vowels in their names and whose license numbers are suspiciously similar to the format used by San Quentin for prisoner IDs. I do not believe for a moment that there is a sick child in Spain who has been collecting emails for fourteen years as his "dying wish." Nor can you convince me that I've won three million dollars in Nigerian Lottery, that Mr. Nivranskinashak Minrovernia of Flakelovakia has left me his estate and only needs my bank account number to deliver my funds or that I will receive a free computer simply by forwarding an email to two hundred people. I do not need to be warned about going to a party, getting drunk and waking up in a tub of ice water missing my kidneys. I am not falling for your claim that someone in Peru tried to use my Visa card, my Paypal account has been locked or that my Facebook password needs updating so that I can sign on to your un-secure server and supply you enough personal information to arm you for identity theft. And no, I do NOT want to 'meet my soul mate in seven days', 'hook up with hot studs in my area' or 'see what Bambi is doing on her webcam.'

Offers and spam. Warnings and spam. Spam, prizes, porn and spam. Spam spam spam spam spam.

I don't like SPAM!

Songs of the Season

I didn't write the music, but I am The Master when it comes to bastardizing lyrics. I'd like to apologize to the composers and original performers of the following songs. I'd LIKE to.....but if the shoe fits......

To the Tune of “Winter Wonderland”

Where's my truck

I can't find it

What the fuck's

All this white shit?

You can't see the grass

It's a pain in the ass

Riding in a winter wonderland!

 

Gone away is the pasture

Haven't seen it since last year

There's horses out there

They're buried somewhere

Out there in that winter wonderland

 

We'll just have to hibernate all winter

Cancel all your outdoor plans til May

Make some extra money in the meantime

And rent your horses out to pull a sleigh

 

Forecast said shouldn't worry

Just a chance of a flurry

"Partly cloudy", alas is now up to my ass

Riding in a winter wonderland 

-----------------

To the tune of “Love me or Leave me”

 

This damned stuff is killing me

I can’t stand this cold you see

Tell me now, ‘cause I’ve got to know

Whether this weather will stay or go

 

Turn up the heater and fetch me a sweater

It’s the west coast, WTF’s with this weather?

If I wanted winter I’d move to the freakin’ North Pole

 

You might think December’s the right time for white time

But I’m not the Christmas-y cold snowy night kind

I’d rather be bitchin’ than hitchin’ my horse in the cold

 

There’ll be no fun unless unless there’s some sun and sooooooooooooon

I’m just waiting and hibernating ‘til Juuuuuuuuuuuune

 

If temperatures keep heading in this direction

You weathermen better get witness protection

 

For I hate the mud and the rain and the snow

and the ice and sleet and the cold winds that blow

My pain is your pain there’s no fun for nobody else

 

Twilight Zone

Imagine, if you will, a door.

No, strike that. That sounds way too Rod Serling-like.

Imagine a room. A modest but respectable room just big enough to contain those things important in life. These things are meticulously organized; stacked and categorized, everything in its place. It’s simple, uncomplicated. Mundane, for sure, but drama free. It’s…..nice and you’re….content. You’ve worked diligently for a long time to ensure that everything is exactly where it should be and that nothing that could possibly rock your world (for good or for bad) may enter.

Now imagine the door to this room is flung wide open and hurricane force winds blast through. Everything in the room is uprooted, displaced, hurled and spun out of any semblance of order. You try to collect things and put them back where they were, but the wind keeps coming and nothing will stick. It’s pandelirium.

That’s pretty much my life lately.

For some reason, the great almighty universe, in its infinite wisdom, decided that my world needed some badass shakin’ up.

Nothing is as it once was. I am enjoying things I’ve never before had a taste for. I have become….social. ME, the non-social wonder. I’m going out dancing and to parties and I’m riding mechanical bulls. I’m taking chances. I’m making lists of things I have never done before but am suddenly compelled to learn and master.

It’s like another person is inhabiting my body. Gosh, I hope they can cook and don’t want to get up early. I hope they like shopping. I hope they have more money than I do to GO shopping. I hope they don’t like rap. I hope they have a lot of single, good-looking, wealthy, generous, kind, funny, smart, sexy straight male friends.

But it’s not all good. My normally photographic memory is out of calibration. I am staying up working on creative projects (good)  instead of sleeping (bad). I’m freaked out by the number of paranormal, inexplicable things that are suddenly commonplace in my world. Have I always been attuned to this sort of thing and just never paid attention, or have I acquired some macabre new talent? It’s as though some sort of door has opened and new, fascinating and frightening things are rushing in faster than I can process them.

And NO….it’s NOT “hormones.” For god’s sake, if you’re going to flip me off, come up with a better excuse than THAT.

Something far bigger than me is dealing the cards at the moment, and I’m getting stuck with playing the hand. I don’t like gambling. Why? Well, because it’s….gambling. I like to tie things up with neat, tidy explanations, and I like all those things to fit neatly within my personal paradigm box. 

But for whatever reason, the universe has decided that my previously mundane, boring, hermit-like existence is over. It’s a riptide of change and I can only hope to stay atop the wave and see where it takes me.

I only wish I’d taken those swimming lessons in third grade.