Some See A Negative, I See A "Stump Fucker"

For everyone out there that doesn't follow me on a regular basis - okay, that's everyone - I work a second job as a valet car parking running-type person.  I take your car keys, get in your vehicle, and drive around for about 45 minutes to an hour until you come back outside and ask for it back.  Only if it's a good car though.  I run Neon's and Dodge Journeys into a fucking ditch.

Parting Ways Is Hard.....

It was a very weird moment the other day, as I sat there in front of my computer doing the Twisted Gamer Radio podcast for the final time.  I made a point to talk about all of the many great things that happened on our little slice of the internet called Loot-Ninja.com, but I also let people into the amount of shock and sadness that overcame me when I found out the news that the website is going away.

Spammers Are Stupid

We all get spammed from time to time.  From our e-mails to telemarketing phone calls, the spammers know no bounds.  But since the dawn of Prodigy and the instant message, spammers have taken up a new fight and seen fit to spam your messaging client with stupid links and offers for useless shit.

I once almost bought Canadian Exten-Z because it just felt good to buy something illegal.  Okay, so it might not be illegal, but it's certainly shady.

Yesterday was yet another one of those spamming IM's hitting my screen name.  It was from a very cute young girl (according to her avatar) named Cristen who thought she was awesome.  Well guess what?  She was incredibly stupid.

I enjoy fucking with spammers.  It's a glorious treat for me if I get to do it in a day.  There are no repercussions, no shame, and you can say whatever the fuck you want to them and not get looked down upon.  They are the scum of the Earth.  Nobody on the face of the planet (Westboro Baptist Church members, Mexicans who can't speak English, friends or racist white supremacists) all hate spammers.

I'm just exercising my asshole muscles for the big game (when there is a big game).

Dream Journal: The Outfit

Every now and then I have a weird dream during the night.  I sometimes want to go look it up in one of those actual dream journals and find out what it means, only I really think I'll be off the charts and they won't have what I'm looking for.  What exactly does a baby with a crab head mean again?

Researchers have determined that there is about a 3 minute window after you wake up where you remember your dream, and it is up to the sleeper to do that in that amount of time.  If it's really good, I'll remember it and tell it to Jen when I'm in the shower.  If it's weird enough, I'll remember it during the day and can type out a blog about it.  That's where this comes in.

You See Some Weird Stuff At Gas Stations

Living in a major metropolitan area like Dallas, TX, I understand that I will run across some weird scenes in the dank underbelly of the metroplex.  I've had a person at a gas station (not the one in this story) ask me how the Dallas Stars did in a hockey game (I was wearing my Hagman jersey), only to quickly change the subject and beg for money.  Talk about the transition from hell.  And how many homeless people do you know are into NHL hockey?  Do they get Versus or something under a bridge somewhere?

I've even been at a Walgreens doing overnight work and seen a homeless guy wake up in the morning dawn of downtown San Francisco only to piss in the middle of the street.  Not in a corner.  Not in an alley way.  As in, he woke up from the building he was sleeping against, and walked to the curb and pissed INTO the street, making a large yellow rainbow.  Lord knows what he did in the corner of that building around from where he slept.  Point is, you see some weird shit at the wonky hours of the night.  This story doesn't fall into that category.  This is at 5:30pm on a weekday.