No Turnip Truk'n Here!

 

Everywhere I go, people are trying to rip me off these days. I just need a little bit … for myself. Come on!!  Why am I so frustrated, you ask?  Well, today I got an email from some Barrister… that’s a lawyer in English, well sort of... Interesting court system they have over there.  No wonder they have no criminals imprisoned.  Anywhoo … slippery slope…

This letter was from this Barrister, er, this Lawyer type telling me that Haddie May or Sarah Lee or something like that… was about to kick the bucket. And she had a bucket full of bucks to give to me! Ten Million to be exact!

Here is the letter: (the real letter came complete with a picture of some old lady in a hospital bed cuz you know if I see a picture, I am going to believe this fool wanting to give me millions!) Can you say No Turnip Truk'n Here!

  

ALEXANDER BARRISTERS CHAMBERS

13 Halstead Road, London, E11 2AY

Dear Sir/Madam,

My name is Barrister matthew pascall,I am Mrs.Helen Cole's attorney. She has instructed me to assist you with the relevant document to have access to the account.She said she has prayed about it and it was revealed that you are the trusted one to utilize this funds to better the less opportune in your society,you have been destined to do this to bring people closer to the almighty. You are to provide the below information which will enable me process the relevant document which will be enable you take charge of the account as directed by Mrs. Helen Cole.The amount in the account is in Millions of Dollars (10.8M) The requested detail will also enable the high court validate the WILL of Mrs Helen Cole.
1. Full names.
2. Residential address.
3. Phone number.
4. Fax number.
5. Sex.
6. Age.

I have just been informed earlier today by the doctor that Mrs. Helen Cole is in comma.She had earlier told me about you that if situation gets worse I should contact you in order to process all relevant documents in your favor regarding the status of her account to your name.You are being reminded of the task ahead to use a reasonable part of the funds to build a temple of worship and also help the less privileged in your society as you have been appointed by God to complete this task Attached is a photograph of her at the hospital.I want you to include her in your prayers.

I await your response.

Barr. Matthew Pascall

Ok…  First we start with dear sir/madam? Didn’t Haddie Mae KNOW who she was about to give 10.8M to? Ok… keep going cuz it gets better.  

Supposedly, this is a very educated person writing this letter but can’t this educated man spell? There is no difference between a ‘coma’ in England or the USA and whatever happened to punctuation, capitalizing YOUR NAME and just simple spacing in between words?  I see a ruler in your future connected to a nun’s furious SLAP. 

Here is another question… why are their two names on the letterhead? Is it a Barristers’ office or as in the Barristers, as a last name? And call me crazy but isn't that logo for the medical profession? Hmmm, not an actual Barrister? 

Things are done very differently in England as opposed the US. Even the roles and titles are very different; quite frankly, to the English, U.S. attorneys are considered to be pond scum… waaay beneath them.   

But the BIGGEST indicator that this is yes-indeedy, SPAM, is that England has two titles in their legal process: 

A barrister generally performs trial work, especially in the higher courts, and does not deal directly with clients. A solicitor, on the other hand, speaks with clients, prepares documents and may appear as an advocate in a lower court. 

BUZZZZZZZ wrong answer my spam scam. To quote my dear friend Heidi, “in the world of fashion, one day you’re in, and then you are OUT!”  

Well, we know this is a scam … so being who I am… Morgana Reeves, the First Official facebook PHore, I decided to write back and supply him with all of my information.. and at the same time… send my note to the spoof police too; they are the people who handle these kinds of scams. 

The first thing I did was open a new email address. Lord knows, I didn’t want some wacko to get a hold of my information. So I used an old yahoo address so I could open a new yahoo ID, BendingoverwithoutforeplayorKY4U@ yahoo.com 

Here was my response...

Mr. Barrister Sir,  

I am sooo impressed that a man of your position (I like mine doggy style as do you…) would write to me and offer such a large sum of money.  I, like 99% of the United States, Is unemployed and poor and would love to get my hands on a few mill. Unfortunately, I left the Church years ago because of this little scandal I had with a couple of the pastors… So the money and I are going to have to go it alone!  But please  assure the old and dying lady that I will spend the money with love and happiness attached to every penny!  

Well time’s awaitin’ and I ain’t getting any prettier or any richer, so here is my info:  

1. Full names. 

My full name is Sophia Maria Linda Guadalupe Maria Jr. Gonzalez Lopez Hernandez Smith. But you can call me Sophie. All my friends do. Then I have my kids, Greg, Marcia, Jan, Peter, Bobby, and cute little Sindy. She has Cancer you know... Lukeymia. Sad, sad really. She just walks around all day looking for my keys... I dunno. None of the doctors and specialist can figure it out really. So you can see… that money couldn’t have come at a better time, God Bless her little heart.  

2. Residential address. 

Well I am kind of in a residential house at the moment but we have a P.O. Box from the Post Office a coupla days ago so it’s completely legit being from the Post Office and all. It’s Post Office Box 12. Uh.. yea, 12. Las Angelos, CA 90210. (That’s next to the beach in a real ritzy neighborhood and all.)

3. Phone number. 

I just purchased this brand new phone from Walmart just for this special occasion!  Our proud new telephone number is:  213-545-7463 or 213-Lil-SIN’D to help you remember how to get in touch with us!! 

4. Fax number. 

Gosh, we don’t have one of those. But it looks rather hopeful we can purchase a brand-new, state-of-the-art Fax in just a few shorts week… God willin’ of course. 

5. Sex.

Oh YES please! Well it’s been a really long time now.  Little Sindy is going on 14 now and we don’t want no more kids plus I ain’t married no more so I had to stick to blow jobs mostly but I would be willing to give you some sex if that would help expedite getting this money any faster.  Gosh, thanks SO MUCH for the added bonus!!!!! 

6. Age. 

I am 52 but I don’t look a day over 29 when I take my teeth out. (p.s. THAT makes for one great suctioning blow job!!)

Mr. Barrister, thank you kindly for this opportunity to make all our dreams come true, in making Gods work, of course. We might need a few things to get us to the Church and all but it shouldn’t take but a year or so.  

And I understand if I have to pay any fees or interest in sexual favors and the like until we start actually doing the work for the Church. My arse is your arse until we are all paid square.  

Thanks again and can’t wait to meet with you. 

God Bless you and Tiny Tim,

 

        Sophie, Greg, Marcia, Jan, Peter, Bobby, and cute little Sindy.

An Afternoon in the Life of a Sunny Southern Californian…

It was a normal day in Southern California. The balmy, windy 78 degree weather was absolutely gorgeous. Too bad I was on my way to a doctor’s appointment.

Being a mom of two, I was late as usual. My appointment was at 3:00 o’clock and it was already 2:30… and, of course, I was not even close to getting there and I was driving as fast as I could possibly get away with… within reason... of course.  

I managed to inch my way up as fast as possible so I didn’t find myself stuck in a string of red lights for the next eight miles; this making my 38 minute commute end up closer to an hour. Already late, I did everything I could to make there as close to 3 as possible!  I pushed through lanes, merging in and out, trying to get passed every damn Poke-E-Poo (my son’s made up name for slow drivers) on the road. At rush hour... you know, in traffic!

Woohoo, we made it there only five minutes late. That wasn’t too bad… but I found out that it really didn’t make much of a difference what time I got there since there were about five other people ahead of me.  Oh and check this out...I found out once we got there, that my appointment was really for 3:30! (I just wrote 3 o’clock in my appointment book so I wouldn’t be late… since I was habitually late!)  Now, I was very, very early, which was nice change!

Even tho I managed to trick myself to get there on time, half of the people there also wanted to be seen earlier so everyone who had an appointment between 2:30 and 5 was waiting there … before me. And even many of them were also waaay too early for their appointments, they’ll get to go in first, simply because they signed themselves in before I did. It’s the law! Or some nurse code or rule, or something…

So now the, drive like a maniac and weave thru traffic challenge shifted to the ‘HOW TO KEEP THE TWO YEAR OLD OCCUPIED IN THE WAITING ROOM FOR AN HOUR Challenge. Bravo for me though. I had a secret weapon… I dressed my daughter in her tap shoes… just in case!

They should really make a reality show about the People in the doctor’s waiting rooms!! Especially when the doctor is running behind and there are a lot of OLD people hanging out in the waiting room. First of all, old people don’t like to wait. Maybe they figure they have done enough waiting by now. Now it’s all about cherishing every moment and all. Blah, blah, blah…

Everyone starts to look around, sizing up the situation. Then conversations start, slowly at first. The early topics begin with traffic then move onto the weather, or some other current event. Oh Lawdy don’t get a Pube and a Dem together! If there is an election happening, you can bet you are gonna to hear a thing or two about the candidates and their latest scandals!

But then it happens like clockwork …at the fifteen minute mark they come to some realization that they are still waiting.  NOW they start bitching! That’s when the poker game of woundology starts. Illnesses are flying as they anti up with cases of gout and blood pressure, moving on up the scale to the heart attacks, cancer, and strokes, not forgetting the braggers who have done it all and have all of the answers to everything, because their own son was an intern. Or better, a mal-practice attorney.   

Well there I go backsliding …slippery slope. Sorry, back to the story.

My secret weapon... is my two-year-old.  I got her all dressed up, so she looked adorable with one finishing touch… her tap shoes, clack-clack-clacking on the wood floor.  So the next challenge was to how keep her occupied for the next 45 minutes and not go crazy in the meantime!

We packed diapers and juices, and lots and lots of snacks, just to make sure we have all the weaponry we needed for the wait. To play with, I brought her very loud toy computer that had two volumes, loud and slightly less loud… yet still annoying. I started out on the loud button just to show people how courteous I was when I turned it down…of course, not wanting to bother anyone. We killed another fifteen minutes doing the ABC’s and picking out colors and numbers. FINALLY, after twenty minutes, instead of forty-five, we were quickly ushered in to our room. Gotta love those tap shoes!!

I swear we were done and right back out into the waiting room in 7 minutes… FLAT. Which was good because now I had to rush all the way back home to get my son from his Young Scholars after-school program. They had a very strict 6pm and NO later or else we turn you in for ‘child neglect and abuse’ pick up time.  

Luckily, being the expert driver I am, I was very knowledgeable of all of the roads in the county. I knew every back street to take in order to avoid traffic... cuz even more than I hate driving all over the place, I despise sitting on a street or freeway and not getting anywhere… cuz we all know that with traffic, comes drivers, and with drivers comes stupidity.

People are just plain idiots when they drive a car. I am not talking about those people who are inconsiderate of others when they drive. I can bitch for hours about things like blinkers and tailgating because people are just plain rude, but no… I am talking about people who do the most stupid things, like play, Can I pass the truck and fit into that six-foot space… Or OH SHIT, STOP! While asking yourself, did I remember to get new brake lights?  OMG, do you realize that you are driving around several tons of steel…? When your metal slams into my metal… trust me, I am not gonna be too HAPPY!!!!

I am almost there now, so close I can taste it. I am literally six minutes away from hitting my 6pm late notice, fine, and subsequent walk-of-shame tomorrow because of my tardiness… so I make a right turn through the 7-11 parking lot, passing the Panaderia. Now at Main Street, I am just a couple of blocks away as I hit the alley, about to make my final turn. As I am just about to make it, a car turns right in front of me.

There is a sign on the back of the car that says, “STUDENT DRIVER.” Oh My God are you fucking kidding me?! Great!!

The light changes green. Nothing happens. OK… I feel like I want to bitch slap this lady through my horn because she is still not moving. Instead, I politely tap my horn. She moves, finally … slowly…? Five miles per hour at first… then we start going ten. We are advancing but really, r e a l l y slow. OK, we are now at fifteen. Twenty. Then it stops. WHAT!!! The speed limit is 45 and the flow is 60 and I can see the school’s parking lot from here.

Come on… (insert the curse words HERE that are in my brain and have to stay there because my very impressionable, learning to speak two-year-old is in the back seat and SIT already sounds like SHIT so I have to behave…)

I try to get around her and I can’t. After letting (no joke here) eight cars pass as those behind me began to dart over to the left lane because of course… now I am in THEIR way!)  So I am boxed in waiting for every car that was behind me to now pass. (enter even more bad words HERE!))

Finally, I could finally move over to the left lane… only to see one of the funniest things I have ever seen. As I changed lanes, I was able to take a look over to see who was driving. Exactly who was this student driver that is gonna cost me a dollar a minute, for every minute past 6? Besides I want to be able to give him, or her, something I imagine they are gonna learn very early in their driving career…  They were getting… the bird.

And as I looked over, there was a little (by this I mean hunched, over old, little) Vietnamese man, maybe 70-ish at least, teaching this little (by this I mean teeny, tiny, little) girl, who was MAYBE in her early twenties but more than likely in her teens… rocking out to show tunes while she is learning to drive. Are you fucking kidding me…?

Yes, folks, I live in Southern California, the state of diversity, and home to the many patches of communities of other people migrating from other countries come to live. HERE… in the U.S… they come only to create little mini home-country-like-communities, communities known as Little Saigon or China Town, HERE… in the U.S. 

Generally, you really want to avoid driving in these pockets of communities because for some reason, they just think that no one else is driving on the road…or that maybe the rules don’t apply to them cuz they’re Asian… or maybe they are too little to see over the dashboards. (altho most of them are driving Toyota’s… (I’m just saying…))

In this case, the car that’s barely accelerating, to me was the equivalent of the blind teaching the blind… and probably… literally, he may just have been the blind teacher, teaching the just as blind and possibly scared, student… to drive…  The tought was just as frightening to me as it was hilarious.

You know, I hate being so judgmental about Asian drivers but I went through so many emotions at the hand of this student driver learning to drive, and at the hands of this meek little (we have now determined to be little, right?) man.

In the end I guess, we all got some lessons out of the deal. We all are blind in some way or another. And little do we know that every day we ALL become like the little Vietnamese man in the car, the man who was leading.  The teacher.

So folks, the moral of this story is that I went home and drank. The End.

Can you Hear me Now?

Don’t you hate that when you to make a phone call some kind of service company or maybe you are trying to reach your bank…  and you no longer get a live person?

I am trying to make a deposit or a make payment on my electric bill because I am already eight days late; or I have to call the bank before I can pay that bill, cuz I have to make sure I have the funds are there to cover the payment. So I make the dreaded call and I get…

 

The COMPUTER…  

 

You would think that technology would make everything easier? Press One for English and Press Three for Checking Balances. But it’s never THAT simple. In fact half the time my computer doesn’t even recognize my Bluetooth so I find myself yelling into the phone…  Mental note number one… use my cell phone.

Damn it... Find me a PERSON, Damn it!!  Fuck You, Fuck YOU… THAT’S what department so do NOT transfer me again… mental note number two… cells phones don’t work either.

After I damn near stroke out and I finally get some guy named Will on the line… you know, the Will that sounds more like someone named Somalirashad instead… Will goes on to ask me eighty more questions to confirm my identity. My name, my age, my address and phone number, the last four of my social security number, people in the household, including the dog, my annual income, and last but not least, my password … for extra security.  

 

Oh my God are you kidding me?  I just want to make a deposit… you know put money INTO the bank’ I am not even making a withdrawal. Who cares if someone sneaks in as me to deposit money into my account? I say let ‘em!  I guarantee it’s spent before some identity thief could make the withdrawal on it! What’s even more sad is why in Heaven’s name would they ever pick me? ME! Have they seen my credit report?  And I have no identity; no life, no extravagant clothes or jewelry or vacations… just home at night, sitting around watching the boob tube.

How the hell did that get its name, Boob Tube?  Does watching TV turn you into a boob?

Digressing again… sorry… and now moving on.

So anywhooo, I am on the phone the other day with the cable company cuz you never have any problems with tech support huh?  I just got a new modem for my phone, which is Voice over IP. It took about all of 90 seconds to switch from the old router to the new one; I just basically removed the cords one-by-one so I don’t stick the wrong cord in the wrong hole. I am constantly having that issue in my personal life!  

 

After ten minutes of trying to explain my situation, “I just got a new Router box from my phone company. I had to power down to install everything so that windows could pick up the new code when I turned my computer on. The internet was down and I have no phone.”  I had to say it again, saying I think when the software of the new drivers were installed, it knocked my modem offline. After five minutes, I found myself repeating the details over and over again. I finally said to Will, can you please write this down? As he is telling me not to unplug the third box and and to plug in the fourth one… Will, there are not four boxes, there are only two. The modem and the router but for grins and giggles, let’s  just call them the Phone box and the Cable box and eliminate the names altogether. After fourteen minutes and twenty-six seconds, he finally informed me that my modem was offline and that he was going to check to see if there was an outage. UGGHH. Ok I know there are plenty of people who could use a job so are we really gonna go here? Nope, no power outage. He said he had to set a charge out to the modem so I shut everything down only to reboot after he sent the charge. As I rebooted everything, the computer and the phone, were all working just fine. Will asks,” are they running correctly?” Yes, Will, they are. Thanks. So he goes on to inform me that the tests show that the modem was reading the old router and needed to have the modem send a new charge out to the modem so everything can work correctly. Really, Will? That’s what I said, remember?  From the beginning?  

And Will ever-so-politely asks… is there anything else I can do for you today?  ARRGGGHHH!!!

Have you ever noticed they put the most polite people in those positions, so when you are screaming and cussing them out, it doesn’t even phase them? That is just wrong!  It’s playing dirty. Imagine what New Yorkers are going through? Please Hold…Cardiac Arrest on line Three, Will.

But in the end, Will is gonna get his karma paid back because his company is going to call me back for a customer service survey. IN FACT, they will call me and call me and call me, again and again until I get on the phone and give them that interview, for me to finally say that my experience was good until they called me for the EIGHTH time of trying to avoid them… at this point, I simply DO NOT CARE! That was sooo four days ago and you are sooo pissing me off NOW.

 

Why are we stuck living in this world of technology that is supposed to make our lives easier? But ultimately make simple things like phone calls to our service providers cause so much frustration and stress? Some call us spoiled that we have so much technology available to us but isn’t it technology that also makes us have to add so many  security measures because it’s technology making us vulnerable to hackers and thieves!  I think that someone in a higher place is looking down on us saying tsk, tsk, thinking we are stupid...  It’s like poking us to see if we are still awake.

Can you hear me now?