My Insurance Company Is Breaking Up With Me

I decided that I'm going to update this more often. Posts will probably shorter but highly reliable sources indicate that anyone who actually reads this crap would probably prefer that. Good deal.

Anyway.

In the wonderful world of the interwebs, I've learned you can pretty much get an email update for everything under the damn sun, moon and celestial beings. Personally, I'm totally amped on email reminders because I honestly can't remember to pay for shit. I'd probably lose my head if it wasn't attached to my neck! Har har! ::insert knee slap::

This morning I see that my car insurance has ever so kindly sent me an email. I notice it's from GEICO and automatically think, "Oh... YOU. You want monies, don't you? That's all you ever want from me." But before I can even finish that thought in my brain waves, I see the word "cancellation" in the subject line. Now, it's entirely possibly I completely missed the boat on my last payment; it's happened before. To my defense, if the company would fix their sketchy online payment system I'd probably fix my sketchy payment schedule.

Email's open. Sure enough, it's a formal warning of my impending policy cancellation that's going to hit mid-month due to non payment. Now I have to sifting through my emails to find all the other crap GEICO sent me to figure out when my bill was due and how late I'll be on paying it.

Cool. Payment is due on September 28th. Today is September... 28th. Uh.

So, GEICO, your little green friend here is basically telling me that you're just anticipating my epic payment failure? Shit, man, how am I supposed to feel about that? I mean, yeah, I was a little late on a few payments but we have HISTORY. Does that mean nothing to you? I now have to pay my bill early in order for it to not be late? I don't care how cute the gecko is; stop using that bastard to soften the blow of bad news. Criminy.

Why don't you just send me my next reminder 4 weeks ahead of time with a subject of Don't Fuck This Up? Child, please.



Douche.

Oh and I sincerely apologize to whoever reads the replies to the automated emails over there. I realize "WTF?" may have not been entirely appropriate.

Your Child Has Ruined My Precious Meal

So there I am, Chillin at … Chili’s. I’ve got my vodka soda, chips & salser and a sexy black bean burger on the way. I even set myself up with some crayons and a sweet, blank paper chili pepper that’s just waiting to have itself adorned with color. (Don’t worry. I DONATED my dollar for it. Apparently you have to shell out cash to spend 5 intense minutes scribbling colored wax between some lines.) Basically, I’m in mediocre restaurant zen right about now.

Then, like a thunderstorm from the wrath of Zeus, my world becomes shattered by an earth shattering shriek.

“Mooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooommmmm! EEEEAHAHDHFHEHA!”

Interpret that how you wish, but we all know that sound. It’s a noise that will evoke fear, anger and an overwhelming sense of getmethefuckoutofhere all at one time. It is… the out of control child.


You suck.

Now, this particular young man was rather unpleased by the fact his mom needed to use the restroom. So, naturally, the best resolution in his ill-mannered 5 year old brain is to run after that cold-hearted woman and scream bloody murder for abandoning him. Right?

Let’s fast forward 5 minutes to where the family is finally reunited in their booth… directly behind where I’m sitting. What could possibly go wrong here? Oh, I will TELL YOU. Little angry man is still pissed at his old lady, so he proceeds to squeal random noises and sounds to quite possibly notify the entire world that he’s still not a-ok with mother’s disappearing act. All complete with ferocious kicking to our shared bench podium that even David Beckham would grow green over. Little sis sees this and, not to be out done by her older bro, decides she needs to join in the baby Liberachi practice. Their poor waitress approaches the table and their scream-fest is diverted to her with demands of “I want milk!” and “EEEEEEE!” As a parent of these two upstanding citizens in training, the only logical reaction is to…

Laugh?

I’m kidding, right? I most certainly am not. I have no clue if I need to be a parent in order to justify my children’s seemingly uncontrollable behavior with giggles, but I’m assuming that’s not something the rest of the world finds as cute as they do.

My backwards glances, laced with a hint of you’re-failing-as-a-parent glares, must have flipped the switch to a tiny light bulb because someone finally got the hint that maybe their kids should put a sock in it. Best solution? iPhone! With tons of lights and sounds more annoying than Lady GaGa’s most recent radio jamz.

At this point, my burger has been packed and is ready to go home to the peacefulness of my refrigerator. My tasty alcohol treat is gone. And I am ready to get the hell out of this restaurant as it turns into a Chuck-E-Cheese before my very eyes. I almost wish I had battle gear and a stun gun in my purse to loan the server. Bless her heart. I can only imagine what horror and carnage was released once the actual food arrived.


Still funny?

Bottom line: Get your shit together and your kids in check.

Oh and the best part about this entire situation: There’s an uber well-mannered young man sitting across from these hooligans, obviously in a state of utter confusion. I know this because he actually said “please” when he asked for more water. Your parents deserve the most badass high-five in the history of ever, kid. You’re gonna be alright.

Water Chestnuts

what.
the.
crap.


I've recently become obsessed with those veggie deals where it's like... a bag. With vegetables. All you have to do is put that sucker in the microwave for 4 minutes and some odd seconds. Then BAM! You have dinner for under 200 calories. It's almost like magic, right? You bet your sweet Nike Calis it is.

But what could possibly be utterly wrong with this genius invention? OH, I'll tell you:

WATER CHESTNUTS

Who in the history of this wonderful human race found these little corm deals (yes, they're classified as a corm; insert "WTF" here) and thought "Hey man, I'm so totally putting these in delicious salads and scrumptious vegetable medleys"? A complete idiot, that's who.

First of all, Wikipedia describes them as an aquatic vegetable. I wasn't aware there even was such a thing. Does the water chestnut need to take swimming lessons as a young excuse of a plant? All I can think about is this stupid mess of leafless green tubes failing swim class and being forced to wear arm floaties for the rest of its existence.

Then there's the fact that this "vegetable" offers no flavor whatsoever. But they're jam packed of carbohydrates and starch. Uh, excuse me, but if I were in the mood for a snack harboring all the benefits of a potato then I'd opt for french fries thank YOU very much.

The water chestnut is so essentially worthless that even recipes based on the usage of it are limited and truthfully stomach churning. Water Chestnut Cake is definitely the last thing I'd want served at my birthday festivities. Food that looks like gelatinized urine just isn’t my thing.

So, let's recap, shall we? Water chestnut: bland, full of fatty calories, useless, ugly and unable to swim. Get the eff out of my scrumptious vegetable mix you opaque white discs of nothingness.


Hi. I'm pointless.

You Deleted Me?!

Oh Em Gee!

You, like, totally deleted me from your Myspace/Facebook/Twitter/Whatever the hell social networking site you're apart of! What did I DO?! I don't care if we don't talk in person or have even met but why, oh WHY did you delete me from your coveted friends list?!

Oh, wait. I don't care.

I'll admit I use a few different "networking" sites to keep track of friends, find music, cure boredom, promote and all that fancy jazz. However, there are a few things I can't tolerate.

1. PC4PC
Now, yeah. We all post pictures of us on these sites because we want to prove that we have a life, we're good looking and we do crap on the weekends. Amiright? But my confidence level isn't going to shoot through the roof because I have a bagillion and one strangers leaving me some random, insincere comments on my pictures. Is there some secret society I'm unaware of where you social ranking completely depends on the amount of comments my default picture has? Criminy, I didn't think I was that out of the loop.

2. Lurkers
You saw me leave a comment on the page of a boy you like. "Oh WHAT? Competition? I must find out who this girl is and why she's talking to the guy I'm Myspace stalking." Listen, my profiles are private for a reason. Don't try to add me for the sole reason of finding out if I'm more awesome than whoever the hell it is you're trying to get at. Because, I am. And I'll figure it out. And you'll be denied.

3. Top Friends
While I do believe Myspace is the only site to have this feature, I'm very certain it is the root of all evil. Top friends essentially correlates to "how much I care about other people more than you". However, I do commend the developers who came up with this ingenious idea. You know why? It causes drama. More drama = more people active on the site. Bam!

I work on a computer all day. I know very well as soon as I'm bored my browser just automatically scoots on over to Myspace, Facebook, etc. With the occasional glance here. But holy hell if you let the interweb control our life to the point that an argument or falling out prompts the mass deletion of every viable internet point of contact you have with someone, then I do believe you've developed a problem. And thank you for deleting me so I can avoid it.