Tuesday, August 31, 2010

IT’S FROM THE GOVERNMENT … IT’S HERE TO HELP YOU …


“You MUST respond to this for your own good.” That’s what was on the subject line of the ominous sounding email. And it was from the FBI Director. No, not J. Edgar. The current Director, Robert F. Mueller, III. Oh yeah, and it was in my spam folder.

Now the really sad part of this email, is that there are people who, unfortunately, respond to it. “After all,” they say, “you can’t ignore the FBI, can you?.”

So consider this a friendly public service announcement.

IT’S NOT FROM THE FBI, PEOPLE.

And here’s a few tips on how to tell if it’s real.

Number One. If your email provider has already thrown it in your spam folder, it’s not real. IT’S SPAM, get it? (I mean, not the real Spam®, of which I am a huge fan. Because if it was the real Spam® I would be all up and in its face. No wait, reverse that. It would be all up and in my face.) To repeat, if it’s already in your spam folder, leave it alone. It’s not real.

Number Two. It’s from the FBI Director, Robert F. Mueller, III. Close, but no cigar. The real name of the real FBI Director is Robert S. Mueller, III. I know. “F” can sound like “S” but in an email, believe me, the FBI Director is not going to misspell his own name.

Number Three. It’s from the FBI Director. Even if it says it’s from Robert S. Mueller, it’s not really from him. Seriously, the Director of the Federal Bureau of Investigation is not going to send you a personal email, unless you know him personally. And then, he’s probably going to indicate it’s from Bob, or Robby, or Swan (which is what the middle initial “S” stands), or Mr. Froo Froo, or whatever personal name you know him as.

Number Four. “You MUST respond to this for your own good.” Wow. I’m so glad that was in the subject line. I wasn’t going to fall for that FBI Director thing, but when the subject line said I “MUST” respond, and it was in all caps, well, if it was a bad email they wouldn’t say that, would they? OF COURSE THEY WOULD! What do you expect the bad people to say, “Virus Enclosed,” or “Phishing attempt,” or “From bad people hoping to do you or your computer harm”?

To recount – if it’s from the FBI, it’s not from the FBI.

P.S. You MUST comment on this posting for your own good.

Monday, August 30, 2010

WHOA … THAT’S WHAT THEY MEANT BY “FIXED” ??

BUT IT WASN’T BROKEN …



If you chuckled, it must be Monday Morning.

Friday, August 27, 2010

DO THESE PANTS MAKE MY EGO LOOK BIG …


Over the years I’ve heard a lot of words and phrases for the those with overinflated egos. There are the common – like vain, narcissistic, snob, big-headed, arrogant, conceited, stuck up, egotistical, and many more.

But this may be the most memorable description I’ve heard:

“Her ego matches the size of her butt.”

Thursday, August 26, 2010

IS IT TOO MUCH TO ASK THAT A CHECKOUT PERSON BE ABLE TO DO SIMPLE MATH …


She was a pleasant enough girl, and proficient at grabbing the items, scanning them, and then putting them in the plastic bag. But when it came time to make change, the elevator carrying her brain got stuck between floors.

“Your total comes to $7.57,” she said.

I handed her a ten dollar bill, two singles, three quarters and two pennies – $12.77.

She counted it and said, “You gave me too much, sir. It’s only $7.57.”

I told her to just enter it in the cash register and I would get back the change I wanted.

“But it’s too much,” she repeated, as she tried to give me back the two singles and the two pennies.

I assured her that it would work out. Just enter $12.77 in the register, and I would get back $5.20 in change.

“Really?” she asked, as her eyes went a bit wide. “You can do that in your head?”

She dutifully entered $12.77 in the register and sure enough, it informed her that my change was $5.20.

She handed me my change and said, “That was really cool.”

I told her thanks and went on my way.

But seriously, if you've graduated from high school … heck, if you’ve graduated from elementary school, shouldn’t you be able to do simple math … in your head? Or at the very least, not be so surprised that someone else can.

Wednesday, August 25, 2010

GOOD PLUMS VERSUS BAD PLUMBS …


“This may be the breakthrough theory you’ve been looking for to explain why life doesn’t always flow the way we want it,” he said. He had just walked authoritatively to the front of the room of around 300 people, turned to face us, took off his wire-rimmed glasses, paused for what I assume was some sort of visual effect, put them back on, and made his opening statement.

“That is why you’re here, isn’t it?” he continued. “To find out why life doesn’t always flow the way we want it, and what to do about it.”

In fact, that is why we were there. That was, after all, the name of workshop.

“A friend of mine recently shared something with me,” he said. “It deals with scientific theory regarding human reaction in anticipation of unexpected movement. He called it the ‘Horizontal Infinity Plumb String, or HIPS, Principle’.”

Without boring you over some of the so-called technical/scientific explanations he bored us with, essentially the HIPS Principle says that infinite life flows along a horizontal line, and often, without warning and out of the darkness, comes a “something” (the plumb at the end of a string) that can knock us off the path.

Personally, I find the HIPS Principle to be more allegorical than technical or scientific, but then, I’m a writer not a scientist.

So here we are, walking merrily along the path of life, when our “spidey” sense alerts us to impending danger. Something coming at us, unexpectedly, out of the dark. I … I think it’s a plumb. Probably a big heavy one.

Uh-oh! Now what??

Here’s the quiz part: Do you …

a) Continue merrily walking along life’s path, ignoring your “spidey” sense? Or …

b) Okay, your “spidey” sense has just alerted you to impending danger … so what do you think you should do?

Right, you get out of the way. Common sense. No need to spend $395 for a four hour workshop to be told to do what should come naturally. (I was so thankful I had a complimentary ticket.)

Assuming you passed the quiz, let’s continue with Mr. Workshop Guy.

For the next three hours, he belabors his advice on what to do when life doesn’t flow the way we want it. It boils down to three points.

First, be aware of what’s happening around you.

Second, when you sense or feel you’re about to be hit, duck.

Third, move forward.

So now you know and you can save yourself $400.

Be aware, duck and move forward.

Tuesday, August 24, 2010

STALKER IN AISLE SEVEN …


“Mommy,” she said, “Can I have quack-quacks?”

I’m about half a grocery aisle away, but I just have to know what quack-quacks are. So I amble toward them, feigning interest in items along the way, even picking up an item and putting it in my cart, knowing I’ll be putting it back later.

“They’re in a different aisle, honey,” her mom said.

Crap, I thought. Now I’m going to have to “follow” them without looking like some stalker or weird creep. Or give up knowing what quack-quacks are.

But my curiosity and reporter’s instinct just has to know. I turned left at the end of the aisle and become very interested in … pickles. Oh well, there are enough of them that I can spend a few minutes to see if they come down or pass my aisle. I actually end up getting some baby dills. (They’re good on bread with some MiracleWhip® and sharp cheddar cheese. When my kids were young, we used to call them a cheeckle sandwich. Mmmm – cheeckle sandwiches).

A few minutes and no mom with daughter looking for quack-quacks. I hurry out the aisle and turn right this time. I pass a few aisles and spot them at the end of an aisle, looking at boxed items.

Okay, I tell myself. Hurry down the aisle but don’t look creepy. About halfway down I can see clearly enough to recognize my quarry.

Quack-quacks are …

Oh, you probably guessed what they were long before I figured it out.

Quack-quacks are … crackers.

My curiosity sated, I head to the check-out, eager to get home and have a cheeckle sandwich.

Monday, August 23, 2010

AH, FLOORS ARE FOR SISSIES …


Is it Monday Already?

Enjoy your Chuckle.