Friday, October 14, 2005
I Need A Spanish Lesson. Or Some Punji Stakes.
I don't know about you, but I couldn't be happier with the success of the federal "do not call" list. Telemarketers no longer have control of my life. Oh sure, I get these weird calls now and then asking me to participate in some stupid poll. I just yell "poll this!" and drop the phone down my pants. You might want to remember that next time you ask to borrow my phone.
What we need now is a federal "do not leave crap on my door" list.
The telemarketers in my area seem lately to have gone back to their roots, leaving shit on my front door and garage door nearly every day. Once in a while, somebody even puts their flier in a little baggie, weighs it down with a pebble or two, and then apparently lobs it from the window of their car and onto my driveway. Lazy bastards. I invariably find these little gems the hard way when walking out barefoot to pick up the paper in the morning. I happen to know the ballast is 1/4" Apache Brown Granite, because I landscaped with it. Hell, they probably stole their little baggie weights from my yard. Since I hate to see a perfectly good rock go to waste, I open up the bag, fling the rock out there into my yard to be with his compatriots, and put the ad in the ol' circular file.
The worst ones are the hangers they put on my garage door handle with a rubber band. What the hell? Does anybody even use their garage door handle these days? Garage doors are all on remote control. I really like to test the range of my remote. I start mashing the button about the time I make the turn onto my street, in hopes that the door will be just reaching the top when I pull in. That way, I can drive right in to my garage without so much as slowing down, like I'm totally in control of my high-tech universe. It just seems so......I don't know......007ish. It usually doesn't work, and I end up looking like an idiot as I slam on my brakes to avoid crashing into my own stupid garage door. The guy across the street has it down perfect, but then he's also got a BMW. Smart ass.
But I digress.
What usually happens is that just as the door tops out, I see those stupid little ad fliers hanging from the handle as they merrily disappear into the garage ceiling. To retrieve them, I have to park, walk out of the garage, close the door, get the the dumbass ads off the handle, open the door again, go back in, and close the door again. Since that takes more effort than ignoring them, I usually do that. I can hold out until there's so many that they jam the door on the way up. Then I roll my dumpster over (it weighs less than the aggregate of all those fliers), hack them all off at once, and recycle their worthless carcasses.
The front door hangers are a real pain in the ass because I always find them when I'm in a hurry and on my way out the door. My front porch has some strange design flaw that turns it into a wind tunnel at the slightest hint of a breeze. All the loose items in my neighborhood - leaves, papers, cigarette butts, candy wrappers, Big Gulp cups, dead cats, and errant children - end up on my front porch at one time or another. But it always startles when I open the door and forty of those stupid hangers come after me, swirling around like a scene right out of Poltergeist.
This time of year, I'm able to leave the window of my home office open a good part of the day to get the fresh air. Sometimes, I hear these telemarketing outcasts coming, as they scrunch across my 1/4" Apache Brown Granite. See, they cut across the yards to lessen the distance, so as to be able to annoy even more people per day than if they actually used the sidewalk, like civilized folks. I yell as they go past my window, "Hey, you! Whatever is, I'm not interested!" Of course, the guy just gives me a blank look, smiles and nods, and keeps on going.
No Ingles.
I could lie in wait behind a pillar or bush, than leap out screaming and scare the shit out of them. But I'd probably end up just getting my ass kicked, and I don't think I've ever seen the same guy twice anyway, so scaring him off won't change anything.
I guess I could just sit in my office and yell "Get the hell off my property, you annoying ass prod!!" But I don't know how to say that in Spanish.
I stopped in at the grocery store this afternoon after work to pick up a few things. I wasn't in there more than five minutes, and when I came out, someone had slipped an ad under my windshield wiper. Not just mine, but every car in the parking lot had an ad on the windshield. There were a lot of cars there too, but not a sign of the transgressing butt munches who put the ads all over the place. These guys are good. Very good.
I left the flier there, where it stayed securely strapped all the way home. It's for a maid service, and it's still there. I wonder if they have a maid available to come over here and get their shit off my car?
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What we need now is a federal "do not leave crap on my door" list.
The telemarketers in my area seem lately to have gone back to their roots, leaving shit on my front door and garage door nearly every day. Once in a while, somebody even puts their flier in a little baggie, weighs it down with a pebble or two, and then apparently lobs it from the window of their car and onto my driveway. Lazy bastards. I invariably find these little gems the hard way when walking out barefoot to pick up the paper in the morning. I happen to know the ballast is 1/4" Apache Brown Granite, because I landscaped with it. Hell, they probably stole their little baggie weights from my yard. Since I hate to see a perfectly good rock go to waste, I open up the bag, fling the rock out there into my yard to be with his compatriots, and put the ad in the ol' circular file.
The worst ones are the hangers they put on my garage door handle with a rubber band. What the hell? Does anybody even use their garage door handle these days? Garage doors are all on remote control. I really like to test the range of my remote. I start mashing the button about the time I make the turn onto my street, in hopes that the door will be just reaching the top when I pull in. That way, I can drive right in to my garage without so much as slowing down, like I'm totally in control of my high-tech universe. It just seems so......I don't know......007ish. It usually doesn't work, and I end up looking like an idiot as I slam on my brakes to avoid crashing into my own stupid garage door. The guy across the street has it down perfect, but then he's also got a BMW. Smart ass.
But I digress.
What usually happens is that just as the door tops out, I see those stupid little ad fliers hanging from the handle as they merrily disappear into the garage ceiling. To retrieve them, I have to park, walk out of the garage, close the door, get the the dumbass ads off the handle, open the door again, go back in, and close the door again. Since that takes more effort than ignoring them, I usually do that. I can hold out until there's so many that they jam the door on the way up. Then I roll my dumpster over (it weighs less than the aggregate of all those fliers), hack them all off at once, and recycle their worthless carcasses.
The front door hangers are a real pain in the ass because I always find them when I'm in a hurry and on my way out the door. My front porch has some strange design flaw that turns it into a wind tunnel at the slightest hint of a breeze. All the loose items in my neighborhood - leaves, papers, cigarette butts, candy wrappers, Big Gulp cups, dead cats, and errant children - end up on my front porch at one time or another. But it always startles when I open the door and forty of those stupid hangers come after me, swirling around like a scene right out of Poltergeist.
This time of year, I'm able to leave the window of my home office open a good part of the day to get the fresh air. Sometimes, I hear these telemarketing outcasts coming, as they scrunch across my 1/4" Apache Brown Granite. See, they cut across the yards to lessen the distance, so as to be able to annoy even more people per day than if they actually used the sidewalk, like civilized folks. I yell as they go past my window, "Hey, you! Whatever is, I'm not interested!" Of course, the guy just gives me a blank look, smiles and nods, and keeps on going.
No Ingles.
I could lie in wait behind a pillar or bush, than leap out screaming and scare the shit out of them. But I'd probably end up just getting my ass kicked, and I don't think I've ever seen the same guy twice anyway, so scaring him off won't change anything.
I guess I could just sit in my office and yell "Get the hell off my property, you annoying ass prod!!" But I don't know how to say that in Spanish.
I stopped in at the grocery store this afternoon after work to pick up a few things. I wasn't in there more than five minutes, and when I came out, someone had slipped an ad under my windshield wiper. Not just mine, but every car in the parking lot had an ad on the windshield. There were a lot of cars there too, but not a sign of the transgressing butt munches who put the ads all over the place. These guys are good. Very good.
I left the flier there, where it stayed securely strapped all the way home. It's for a maid service, and it's still there. I wonder if they have a maid available to come over here and get their shit off my car?
