Friday, June 26, 2015


Ok, now, here is a prompt I can probably really get my hooks into, because I LOVE to carp, but only in a way that is going to amuse the listener or the reader. I guess we can start with that particular peeve right there. I hate nothing more than a person who whinges on about something, or is all depressed about something, yet has absolutely no solution for the issue or worse yet, adds to the problem.

If you are someone who is going to sit around all day and cry about how crappy the economy is, or how hard it is to find a job, yet you're not looking for one, I don't want to hear you whining about it. There are jobs, just not the job that pays you $100,000.00 a year and you work 2 hours a week. We all know these characters around here. They're bumming quarters at the bus stop. I run 'em off with my cane and bad-ass self. They don't even get close. Go pick up cans, loser.

But, nearer and dearer to my heart as far as peeves go, are things inside of things, that I can't get to. What in the name of God has gotten into the Packaging and Marketing industry? The list is growing and it seems we pay more for the fancy packaging than the item within. I have a hard enough time with my essential tremor trying to get into boxes of flea stuff for my cat, CD and DVD cases, but I shudder when I buy stuff like batteries. You need a crowbar and a hammer to get into the Energizer wrappers on these things. I'm gonna be an Energeezer by the time I get it open, and the device I need the batteries for will be obsolete. Gardening shears might help, but I think one of the McDrunkleys took them out of the front yard, or maybe I never had them.

While we're at it, could you package yellow rice in something that you didn't need an Apex Predator to tear open with his/her fangs? The last time I tried to open my bag of yellow rice, so I could make a simple dish of yellow rice and black beans, the kitchen scissors had grown legs and walked off, so I tried to open it with my teeth. The whole thing blew open and I had rice scattered everywhere. I guess that's probably not on Martha Stewart's list of how to open shit in the kitchen.

There is so much you can do with this tasty, inexpensive yellow rice. It does however, make lousy confetti, especially in your kitchen. 

While we're at it, I have to mention something that almost sent me back over to the Happy Farm. I ran out of giant garbage bags, and before I could get up to the SweetBayWinn-DixieStoreToBeNamedLater, I went two block south to the Dollah Store and bought their giant garbage bags. These must be some kinda bags that are made in an alternate universe shipped here and zapped with a special electrical charge, because, although it's easy enough to get into the box and unroll one of these nightmares from the roll, I defy you to open this bastard. No amount of finger-licking, thumb-licking, rubbing the bag against itself, rubbing the bag against your leg, against the cat, trying to puncture it; NOTHING can get it to separate from itself. 

At one point, I generated so much electricity, I think I shorted out 12 city blocks and scared all the cats away. My hair stood on end, and I levitated. Or maybe, I was just that damned mad. I'm sure they were put here to do nothing but torture earthlings. Every time I had to change out the kitchen garbage bag, I wept. There was at least one hour of hell and frustration and things thrown against the wall. I finally just duct-taped 2 of them together. I will NEVER buy these things again. The Dollah Store should be ashamed of itself and if the Dollah Store should be ashamed, THAT's bad.

I couldn't find the UFO or MXYSKYZGLRK Trash Bags that I bought at the Dollah Store on the innerwebz. They were probably recalled because they ate universes or melted stars, or something.

As long as I'm digging up pet peeves, could we stop with the woman on the phone who says “Say 1 for yes, or 2 for no”. She doesn't understand a damned thing I'm trying to tell her, because she's not of this earth. She's from Saturn or maybe Neptune. I've gotten to the point, where I just turn into Silent Cal. Remember him? Calvin Coolidge, one of our worser Presidents. I just turn into a rock and say nothing. After she says “I didn't get that” about 40 or 41 times, she gives up and transfers me to Pakistan, where some guy named “Happy Birthday, or Surprise” (I'm NOT making this up) will be happy to change my password. His accent's not bad, and we get through it fine.

Just watch, this will be the next trend. I've been on TTY calls and on calls where interpreters were needed. This is a new representative for "Sign Language Customer Service". The agent just "signs" over the phone and the new Google app that hasn't been beta or alpha tested for that matter does the translating. "We" meaning "each other" will be the "help desk".

Somebody really needs to get the Pakistanis up on the cultural part of what's haps in the good ole' U. S. of A. I called one help desk and talked to an agent named “Arson”, leading me to wonder if he sat between “1st Degree Murder” and “Breaking-and-Entering”. They were all very helpful, and naturally, who am I to spoil that kind of fun, by telling them they may want to rethink their “blending in with the Americans” campaign.

"Hello, my name is Surprise! Have you tried stopping and restarting your brain?" This looks like something Google came up with; it's so creepy. Although, upon further examination it looks like Amazon weirdness.

But back to peeves. Talking robots, or no live people in Customer Service. Try calling Google, or don't bother. They're not home. They're out lava-skiing, or falling off mountains, which is fine with me. They have this browser called Chrome and this Blog application, called “Blogger” which I spent 5 entire days trying to add a picture to a post in, and was entirely unsuccessful, because Chrome decided it hated Windows (we all do) allofasudden. I tried everything and came up with the bullshittiest fix in the history of ever, about 3 years ago, after I had spent 4 days trying to contact the coneheads at Chrome and Google support. Their support is. . . “us”. In other words, each other. Well, none of “each others'” fixes worked, so I made my own, posted I made a fix, and then? To be a real bitch? I. Didn't. Share. Just fixed it and closed my own damn ticket. Bastards. They owe me $11,000,000.00 by my count. If I weren't such a cheapskate, I'd go join the grown-ups over at WordPress.

One more peeve and then I'm done. I was torn between the public transportation having the A/C on when it's 35°F outside and like a meat locker on the Hartline bus, but I expect that and can compensate, so, I really can't complain. This other one I can holler about, and there's really only one solution.

Why, oh why, is it necessary to start playing horrible Christmas carols on public announcement systems earlier and earlier every year? The rule of thumb used to be, the day after Thanksgiving. With the pursuit of the all-mighty dollar, ruble, yen, or currency of choice and the competition from the internet, the “Christmas Shopping Season” is being pushed back earlier and earlier, so that it isn't unusual to see Halloween stuff side-by-side with jolly ole' Saint Nick.

From "30Rock" which is an absolutely hysterical take on Network TV.

The only thing more terrifying is to hear the music, “Werewolf Bar Mitzvah” by Tracy Morgan (Jordan on the show), followed by “Have a Holly, Jolly Christmas” by Burl Ives, and all I have is this mental image of him lusting after Elizabeth Taylor in “Cat on A Hot Tin Roof” Not a very good Santa figure, if you ask me. Folks, we're just plain confused. For my money, I'll take “Wererolf Bar Mitzvah” any day, firstly, because "Werewolf" is hilarious, and secondly, because I loathe Christmas music, simply for the fact that I've played ALL of it, eleventy-billion times by my last count, being a working musician. For YEARS, I never had a Christmas off and I played as many as 4 different gigs a day during the Christmas season.

In all fairness, Burl Ives was a wonderful character actor, and also sang "Big Rock Candy Mountain". He had a good, unique singing voice and is more closely associated with folk music.

My solution has been this: during the Christmas season, I wear earphones and listen to whatever I want. I may be listening to the soundtrack from “Runescape” or Shostakovich, or YumaBev's CD (named a top Parkinson's Blog of 2015! And she sings!), or Def Leppard, or Mahler, but I will NOT be listening to Christmas music. There are a few secular songs that I like and that's about it, but Christmas isn't about spending money earlier and earlier each year and I resent the attempt to try and “put me in the mood” to do so. Christmas is from the heart and by that criteria should be felt every day. Enough peeving. 


C.D. Gallant-King said...

I would be concerned about whoever it is stealing the sharp instruments (scissors, garden shears) from around your house. Someone on your neighbourhood had a lot of blades...

Viola Fury said...

Hi C. D.!

Thanks for dropping by! You'd have to experience this here 'hood to know that this is just the least of my worries about what goes on here. I've got my own 'hood schtick so finely tuned they think I'M dangerous! Whether or not the shears were there is pretty moot. I think they're duty shears. My landlord's "fix-it" guy couldn't fix a paper bag, without 2 pints of vodka, 3 rolls of duct tape, 4 hours and much consulting with the landlord, all of it in Spanish, just to save a buck.

Once, my landlord had a "certified" electrician over to fix my electric. It's fixed all right, if you enjoy having your hot water at the temperature of the sun. All attempts to get this corrected have involved a lot of fiddling around with the water water, which by the way sits proudly in my kitchen, but have resulted in no changes in the temperature. And, so it goes. The landlord did lower my rent and he checks up on me, to make sure I'm all right, or probably to make sure I haven't boiled myself in the shower. It's a great place! Thanks for stopping by. I've missed my blogging friends! Thanks.

Cindy Scott said...

This was entertaining to read and quite truthful on a number of points. I have had scissors, tape, razor blades, aspirin all get up and walk away on me. I never know why. They must not like me. Also, there's the hot glue gun still missing.

Karen Elizabeth Brown said...

I'm with you on the trash bags. They've given me half of my grey hairs.

I'm also a violist, but retired from the circuit because of illness. I'm glad to see another musician that writes and with an incredible wit, also!

Here visiting for IWSG.

Viola Fury said...


Thanks for stopping by. There are THREE pairs of scissors that evaporated from my computer desk! I found the tape lurking under my book shelf, but I never did find the cat flea stuff. I'd be worried about the hot glue gun! Thanks again@

Viola Fury said...


So sorry you had to retire; the viola is the best instrument ever. We got together and played the "Viola Fight Song" over the weekend! Thanks for the comment about the wit! I always tell people, I am not inherently funny, I just call it like I see it!

I'm posting for IWSG right now. Will be over to visit you! Thanks again!