There is No Limit to How Stupid Some People Are.........

I meant to blog about this two weeks ago, while we were on BRAG. The problem is that SO MUCH stuff happens on BRAG, and I'm so exhausted (and full) at the end of the day, that I can't remember to blog about all of it. I only remembered to tell Hubby this story yesterday.

BRAG provides us with detailed route maps of each day's ride, including the mileage at which to turn, the direction in which to turn, and a description of anything pertinent (Dairy Queen, photo op, gravel in the road, etc.) At the end of the day's route description, EVERY SINGLE DAY, the packet has the following information in some order: NO TOBACCO PRODUCTS ON CAMPUS, NO ALCOHOL ON CAMPUS, NO GUNS OR OTHER WEAPONS ON CAMPUS, NO BIKES OR CLEATS IN ANY BUILDING, and other useful warnings that shouldn't be necessary. Except for maybe the alcohol part. At the end of every single day's route description appeared this sentence: BE AWARE SECURITY LIGHTS STAY ON ALL NIGHT.

Apparently some cyclists are not used to being inconvenienced. They cannot accept the fact that some stinkin' security lights might have to stay on for the entirety of the ONE NIGHT they will be there. Never mind the fact that schools open their doors to a bunch of sweaty, inconsiderate, sometimes rude cyclists and go out of their way to accommodate our needs. That's just not good enough for SOME PEOPLE.

One night on BRAG this year, when the security lights were still on ... JUST LIKE THEY SAID THEY WOULD BE ... one cyclist took matters into his (because I'm pretty sure it was a "he" - call me sexist) own hands.

He called 9-1-1.

Because the security lights were on.

Really? Really.

It's folks like that him that give the rest of us a bad name.

How Not to Get a Job.....

This will look a lot like one of those chain emails that gets spread all over the internet. It's a real, live email string that came to a high school principal today. This guy wants a job. First I'll share the body of his email message.

I wanted to know what kind of school this is and where its located?My resume is attached above and all you need to do is click on it.I'm looking for a possible transfer from _________________if the opportunity is better.as you can see I have over 10 yrs experience in this field and 5 yrs as a certified coach.If you have any questions my number is (xxx)xxx-xxxx.

Sadly, he wants a job in education. He is a paraprofessional in special education, but he has a college degree. Or at least his resume says he does.

That part is sad enough. Here's the real kicker: it came attached to an original string of email messages between him and (presumably) his girlfriend. And the subject line: "Verizon Wireless - Payment Confirmation."

Here is the original string of email messages. I've copied them chronologically so you wouldn't have to scroll all the way to the end to get the correct sequence.

Thank you for your payment

Dear ___________,

Your scheduled electronic check payment, authorized today, has been
applied to your Verizon Wireless account ending in ____.

Here are the details of your electronic check payment:

Date: 10/29 Payment Amount: $223.84 Payment Method: Electronic check; bank account ending in ____

Please note your payment amount will be debited from your bank account on the next business day.

i am very sick today.my sinuses are giving me problems this morning and I can't hardly take it.I might need to go to the nurse and ask for some sinus pills.my student didn't show up today,so I hope i have an easy day.hows your day going?  ***This is the job-seeking guy.***

I'm sorry you're not feeling well.  You probably need to start taking meds now so that you can catch it.  My day is going good.  (Girlfriend?)

i saw Coach ______ and coach (misspelled coach's name) talking about football in the hallway so i walked by just to see if he would look me in the eye,but neither one could.

Wow, they probably have a guilty conscience.  Nope no jobs.

 Coach _____said i should walk up to them and say thank you for telling me face to face.She is mad,because she said thats not professional!I don't know when,but i am going to do something about this ASAP.I can't
let them screw me over......

Yes I totally agree with you.  I told you that you should do something. All I want is for you to pray about it first. 

Baby can u email me another resume?I need to send it somewhere. 

Please try to keep up with it.  I'm going to eventually delete it from my hard drive because we were told they are going to start checking our computers.

People, he LEFT THIS ATTACHED TO THE EMAIL WITH HIS RESUME! And the Verizon Wireless subject line! And he wants to talk about people being unprofessional?

I have no words. 

His interview is next Monday.

JUST KIDDING!!!!!! (Just kidding about the interview. The rest of it is real. Very real. Painfully, sadly, tragically, pathetically real.)

I Don't Get Some People......

I mean there are some people I don't EVER get, and there are a lot of people I don't get some of the time.

There is one particular person, however, who (as I'm guessing you have figured out) has prompted this blog post.

He's a golfing "buddy" of Hubby's and a guy I've known for a hundred years or so. He's a strange little man who used to play the song "Elvira" by the Oak Ridge Boys repeatedly on the jukebox. Now I can't hear "Giddy Up Oom Poppa Omm Poppa Mow Mow,  Giddy Up Oom Poppa Omm Poppa Mow Mow" without thinking of ....... let's call him Herman ...... and I can't see Herman without hearing in my head "Giddy Up Oom Poppa Omm Poppa Mow Mow Giddy Up Oom Poppa Omm Poppa Mow Mow."

To those of you for whom I have just created what my brother-in-law calls an "ear worm," you're welcome.


Back to Herman.


He called Hubby back in July with one of his seemingly never-ending sob stories. He said his wife has cancer and he needed $260 to buy her medicine. Hubby has a soft spot a mile wide, so he told Herman to come by the house and he would be happy to loan him the money. Herman said he would get his next Social Security check in August, and he would pay Hubby back then.

August came and went.
September came and went
October came and went.
November came.

I'm counting at least 4 Social Security checks here.

Hubby and I have joked between us about the fact that Herman couldn't show up to the golf course as long as he hasn't paid Hubby back. In a rare moment of seriousness, Hubby said one day that if Herman had asked him to GIVE him the money, he probably would have done that too. (Did I mention Hubby's soft spot?) But the fact that he was so specific about WHEN he would pay it back indicated, at least to Hubby and me, that his intention to pay it back was very real.

Today Hubby texted me from the golf course and said Herman was there.

Apparently Herman is now suffering from amnesia, because he never mentioned the $260.

Poor Herman. He will probably need money to buy medicine for that too.

Albert Einstein the Grocery Bagger.......

Dear Einstein the Grocery Bagger:

For several weeks, I have begged and pleaded with you (and your co-workers) not to pack my grocery bags so heavy that I can't lift them. I realize that the recyclable bags will hold a lot more than the plastic ones, but that doesn't mean that I have any more arm strength.

It is incomprehensible to me why you pack the bags so heavy and then hand me back two - or three - EMPTY bags.

Last week I asked you (perhaps it wasn't you, but it might have been) not to make the bags too heavy. "I have plenty of bags," I said, "so don't make them too heavy."

When I got home, there was at least one bag that almost gave me a hernia when I tried to lift it out of the back of the car.

Long before the expression "going postal" became a part of our vernacular, in our family we had the expression "to pitch a Carol." I have tried mightily NOT to have my mother's disposition, but if ever there were an occasion on which pitching a Carol was not only called for but almost required, it was this morning at the grocery store.

I brought recyclable bags. Lots of them. Enough for each of them to have a single item. Well, perhaps that's an exaggeration. But I had plenty of bags.

"Not too heavy, please," I implored as you got started. Both you and the cashier acknowledged the words and one of you said, "Okay."

Then you proceeded to pack just as many CANS into one bag as you could. The helpful cashier noticed that you STILL HAD SOME FREAKIN' ROOM IN ONE BAG, and she brought MORE CANS TO PUT IN THE TOP.

Meanwhile, two limp, empty, lonely, forlorn, EMPTY bags lay on the end of the bagging counter.

I have to tell you that Hubby is the most laid-back, easy-going soul (except when he's drinking, and he wasn't at 10:00 this morning) you would ever chance to meet. I looked at him in amazement while you continued to pack a grocery bag that Arnold Schwarz The Incredible Hulk (I could spell that) couldn't lift unassisted. He burst out laughing at your idiocy.

Hubby is not one to make a scene, either. When I reached around you for the empty bags, he said to you, "What part of 'not too heavy' don't you understand?" and I felt completed vindicated. If Hubby is willing to comment on it, it is definitely commentable. Not to be confused with commendable.

You looked a little perplexed when I took canned goods out of one of the full bags and commenced to THROW them into one of the empty bags. I'm sure you and the cashier shrugged your shoulders and wondered why some customers are so irritable.

You don't have to worry about me pitching a fit in your store again, though. I will go back to shopping at the store I was patronizing before your spiffy new store opened. You're not the only grocery store in town, you know. I think you give your chain a bad name. I don't want to embarrass anyone, but it starts with a "P" and ends with an "ublix."

Not too heavy indeed.

Moron.

Sincerely,

Bragger