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During a baseball broadcast, I heard a promo specifically encouraging Dodger fans to vote. Yeah, that’s what American needs: Dodger fans determining how the country is run. Not every uneducated literate with a criminal record deserves a voice. It’s this sorta propaganda that pisses me off. I hate voting season.
I’m not completely helpless. The Girlfriend might think I am, but there are plenty of things I can do on my own–one of which is basic car maintenance. I took a year of auto shop in high school. I like working with tools. I wouldn’t call myself a man’s man–but I can perform rudimentary vehicle maintenance like replacing air filters, changing spark plugs, and jump-starting a battery.
One of the things I won’t do is change my own oil. Sure, I could do it–but it’s just too darn messy…especially when I can take my car somewhere and get the oil changed by a professional for 20 bucks. It seems like money well-spent.
I needed an oil change and opted to go to Jip-U-Lube. It’s right near work and I had a coupon for a $20 oil change. It was for the deluxe package that includes the 14-point inspection. Personally, I . . . . .
I recently had to renew my car insurance–that means it’s time for my semi-annual insurance complaint (just because I stopped complaining doesn’t mean it’s no longer true). My dues went up (again). I spent $400 on car insurance in 2007 with nothing to show for it. I spent another $220 for the first six months of ’08. Now it’s up to something like $250. What a total waste of money: the day I get a dime out of car insurance is that a teen starlet does not flash her privates on the internet. At least one of the two gives me pleasure.
George Carlin died last week and I can’t help but feel a little sad. I’m not sure why–I’m not the type to get caught up in celebrities’ deaths. I guess there was just something to George Carlin: besides being a funny comic, he just seemed like a real likeable guy.
There is a tremendous amount of media coverage of his death–many other celebrities are saddened by his death. I’ve read Carlin tributes from Matthew Berry and Kevin Smith–just a wide spectrum of different folks in different strokes of the entertainment business. There’s one common thread I’ve notice amongst . . . . .
I know I’m not exactly the foremost expert on hipness and what’s in. I might still have t-shirts I wore in high school and drive a car built when “Saved By The Bell” was on the air. But I don’t go out of my way to prove how dated I am. There’s something that has caught my eye this election season. A lot of folks have presidential bumper stickers on their cars–and their certainly entitled to do so. I applaud folks who are actively aware in politics and don’t make their decisions based on an ad campaign. What I don’t understand are the folks sporting older bumper stickers.
At least once a month, I see a car with a Kerry/Edwards sticker on the back. There are folks out there who want people to vote “Dole ’96.” That’s all fine and good…if you want to the world to know you support losers. What’s the point in having a political bumper sticker from an election that’s already over? I know pretty much everyone hates George Bush–but campaigning for Al Gore in 2008 won’t really help.
Let it go people. Peel off those ancient bumper stickers. It’s not like we’re talking about catch . . . . .
True story: I learned how to tell time on an analog clock. I remember they taught us that in kindergarten or preschool or something like that. I was quite proud of myself. I understood all the numbers; I knew terms like “half-past” and “quarter till.” I knew that you had to look at the hands and multiple by five. Math was always easy for me and even at five years old, I had no problem looking at a clock and knowing exactly what time it was. I remember being quite proud of my accomplishment. It was the 80s and pretty much everyone told time by looking at a clock with a face. But the day I was really thrown off was when my mother asked me to find out what time it was and the only source I had was a digital clock. There I was, staring at a set of numbers that meant nothing to me. No little hand. No big hand. Not ever that pesky second hand that raced around the clock with alarming speed. I didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t read it. The numbers made no sense. I return to my mother and told her . . . . .
I’ve been having a toenail problem lately. My whole life, I cut my toenails once a month–maybe even every six weeks. But lately it seems like my toenails are growing with a fury. I hafta cut ’em once every two weeks or they grow disgustingly long. Making this situation even messier, somehow the left foot and right foot got off cycle. I don’t know how, but at one point I must’ve trimmed one foot and forgot to do the other. So now one set of toenails is much longer than the other. I’ll trim the left toenails but can’t cut the right because they’re too short. A week later, the right nails hafta be cut and I can’t cut the left because I just trimmed ’em the week before. This is totally throwing my grooming habits off…and I’m sure you didn’t wanna hear this.
Speaking of unpleasant, I’ve been having some pharmaceutical problems lately (boy, I’m just full of problems). I’m not sure if I blame the idiots at the pharmacy or the numbskulls at the doctor’s office, but there’s been a major fussup regarding a prescription I have.
I used to be on a drug called Ahneedapill. But last . . . . .
About two week ago I bought a GPS navigation device for my car. I had been thinking about it for a while now so it wasn’t entirely an impulse buy. That being said, I didn’t walk into Fry’s to buy a GPS. Fry’s was in the middle of a massive anniversary sale. Most electronic store “sales” don’t really provide much of a discount (nine times outta ten the price is predetermined by the manufacture). But when Fry’s has a sale, it’s usually legit.
I wandered over to the GPSs and was immediately helped by a salesman. I was there strictly for information because I was still in the preliminary shopping stages. I knew little about the differences between GPSs. Why are some $200 and some $400? It’s not like a computer where you pay more for bigger and fast–a GPS doesn’t need bigger and faster. The salesman pointed out the various features and showed me a device that was on-sale that day (and that day only) for $200.
Like I said, normally I scoff at sales. But I noticed that Fry’s was also offering a significantly lesser GPS made by the same manufacture for the same exact price. Was this . . . . .
My dear friend Red Jesus owes me a rather sizable sum of money and when I bought pizza tonight, it bumped up the tab ten bucks. “That’s $83 you owe me now,” I reminded him.
Being the kind of person who doesn’t like having debt hanging over his head, Red Jesus reached for his wallet. He didn’t have the $83 on him–but he had some cash and wanted to make a dent in his outstanding debt. “Here ya go,” he said and handed me some cash.
“Three bucks?” I said to him.
“You’ll get your money,” he said, tying to justify the smallest good-faith payment the world has ever seen. With deadbeats like that, who needs enemies?
Let’s dive into a quickie about the health care industry. Since Dr. Zaius and Sacred Heart Hospital tried killing me (which is another story I’d like to tell–but we’ll save that for different day), I wanna see a different doctor regarding my deviated septum. I don’t know why it took me two months to contact the insurance (maybe it’s because deep-down, I knew it’d be a pain in the ass). I called the insurance and explained my situation. Dr. Zaius said I had . . . . .
It’s that time of year again. All the little Girl Scouts are setup at supermarkets, shopping malls, and even your front door, knocking their delicious treats. I’ve always been pro-children, but I’m not sure how I feel about Girl Scout Cookies. It’s one of my personal policies to pull over and buy lemonade whenever I see a kid sitting at his own lemonade stand. I’ve always felt adults should reward positive behavior. If some eight-year old girl has the initiative and drive to sell lemonade at 50 cents a glass, adults should take three minutes out of their day and buy some. You might not be thirsty, but it doesn’t matter. Just think how much you made that kid’s day. They might have only made $8 for six hours of work, but $8 to a kid is like winning the lottery. Besides, at least this way they learn how to work for a living instead of having everything given to them. I just believe in reinforcing positive behaviour–and the lemonade stand issue is one of the things I live by.
That being said, I feel uncomfortable buying Girl Scout Cookies. While I applaud the kids for their effort and I . . . . .
I saw someone using a pay phone last week. That was an odd sight–I didn’t even know pay phones existed anymore. Who needs them–doesn’t everyone have a cell phone nowadays (I have two)?
The thing is, pay phones are actually everywhere–I noticed this after I started thinking about pay phones. They’re still out there. With everyone having cells, pay phones can’t be making any money–I wonder if there’s some sorta government subsidiary to keep ’em around (like a safety issue or sumhin’). Even in a great location, how does a pay phone average more than a call a day? At 25 cents a call, that’s only like 28 bucks a month. It might be more than I make, but certainly not an endeavored worth investing in.
Unlike most guys in the country, I’m not dreading February 14th. I don’t hafta deal with teddy bears and heart-shaped chocolates because The Girlfriend doesn’t believe in Valentine’s Day. The Girlfriend realizes that I treat her like a goddess year round and there’s no need to do anything special mid-February because Hallmark says so.
I am a long-time VD-hater–and not just because my horrific adventures in singlehood. I believe Valentine’s Day is an insignificant, . . . . .
I lent The Girlfriend my credit card and she lost it. Well, technically, it was in my possession last. But because I gave it to her and she handed it back to me a day later, my rhythm was disrupted and I didn’t put the card where it belongs in my wallet. So you see, it’s all her fault: if I never gave her the card, I wouldn’tve lost it (or would that make it my fault for giving it to her?).
Anywhos, a lost credit card can be a bit of a pain because of all the things I have set up on autopay. I had to change the credit card on file with my landlord and other various companies that automatically bill me every month. A drag–but not impossible.
Unfortunately, the transition didn’t go as smoothly as I hoped. Even after I changed the credit card on file, T-Mobile kept sending me text messages, insisting that my bill couldn’t be processed. After logging on to T-Mobile’s website and confirming the card number had been changed, I had no choice but to call them up.
I’ve had very little complaints about T-Mobile. They’re not as bad as Sprint–but T-Mobile . . . . .
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