On Texting and Smart Phones

One of the daily clicks in our house is the website Damnyouautocorrect.com it never fails to have us literally laughing out loud on a daily basis. I’ve never fallen victim to autocorrect disaster myself, knock on wood, but I almost did today.

Our landscaper emailed to remind me that he was coming this week to treat the lawn. I was TRYING to respond that “I would leave a check for you” but my phone decided instead that I meant“I ubersexual you” Thankfully, I noticed this before I hit send. Otherwise, I think we would be looking for a new landscaper.

And my mama has taken up texting. So now she has new ways to amuse and annoy me. (I wonder if she has found some program for “needy, disabled single women” to pay for a texting plan.

She has yet to find the space button on her phone. So her typical text is “lOveYou” with a random assortment of capital letters that make it appear that the message has come from a 14 year old girl. Yesterday she called me desperate to know if I remembered “The fox’s name on that Disney movie?” 

“Copper, I think. Yes, Tod and Copper were their names.”

“Which one’s the fox?”

“Copper?”

“OK, we was just trying to figure that out.” I don’t know who “we” consists of, nor do I really want to know. I was curious how old Disney movies come up in conversation among grown folks.

Later, while we were out to dinner with some friends, Mom called me again. I sent her to voicemail, and she left a message asking, again, for the names of the characters.

Then she texted. “WhatSThatFoxNameonFoxaNdTheHound“

Six hours later, and she’s still consumed by an old Disney movie? Can someone get her a hobby? And a space bar?

Conversations With Mother–A Lil of That ooooWeee!

“Hi Honey! whatcha doin?”

“Just working on some revisions, what are you doing?”

“Gettin’ high.” chuckles “on marijuana. I’m smokin’ me a joint.”

“Oh Lord.”

“Well, I caint drink causa this bladder infection they caint figure out.”

“I see…”

“I just thought I’d call and tell ya I love ya.”

“And that you were smoking pot?”

“I figure we have an open relationship where we can talk about that kinda thing.”

“Would it stop you if I said we didn’t?”

“No…” chuckles, “I always did speak my mind.”

“Ok then. Talk to you soon.”

A Fool and His Money

I got this in my email today:

“Beloved,

I am drenched with tears while writing this short message to you. It was
heartbreaking news to me few days ago when my doctor notified me on
complications on my health condition which he officially made known to me.
He further stressed that the complication I had in my human mechanism as a
result of a secondary liver cancer which have destroyed all the organs in
my body system. According to him, he said that this complication will
lead to my imminent death since no medication can alleviate the high
system of deformation I am encountering at this time in my system.

In the view of the above, I am in quest to find a trustworthy and upright
individual whom I will entrust the sum of $3.2 million USD and this has
led me to you. The said fund was acquired by me as an inheritance from my
adopted father who died as a result of political crisis which erupted
among his most political associate and business clique.

I will make available to you all information and officially authorize
document which will endorse your claim as the beneficiary to the fund in
question in the finance house where the fund was lodged by my adopted
father. I have mapped out the modalities on how the fund will be
apportioned. 35% of the principal amount of the money will be dished out
to you while 65% will be allotted to any charitable or orphanage home of
your preference.

My motive to dispense the funds to a charity and orphanage home is that I
grew up as an orphan and do not have any heirs hitherto.

Upon your acceptance to this proposal kindly get back to me through this
email:mediccenter@musetr.com

Best Regards
Elisabeth Kuhn”

Now, any reasonable person will immediately hit delete on such a message. It doesn’t even pass the test of common sense, does it? Some sickly old heiress decides to email random strangers in the hopes that someone will take her fortune when her decrepite organs finally give out? Puh-leeze.

And yet, every few months there’s someone on the news (quite often an old fart) who has fallen “victim” to such an email and sent their life savings off to some third world country in the hopes of getting millions in return.

To that I say: “If you’re stupid enough to fall for this crap, you shouldn’t have any money.”

That’s all.

Need a Little Favor From My Blog Buddies

Hey guys! Was hoping I could count on all of you to help me out with a little something. One of my younger brother’s favorite teachers is trying to win the Syfy channels viewer’s choice vote on “Face Off”.

Could you click on over there and vote for RJ Haddy? Here’s the link: http://www.syfy.com/faceoff/vote

Thanks a lot!

 

Mama’s Ready For Trouble!

My phone lit up on my way home from work today, and Mama was on the other end.

“I’m heading to this birthday party.” she said in the sort of tone that implied she would rather have her nipples clipped off with a pair of dull tin snips.

“Who has a party on a Thursday?” I asked before realizing that since most of mom’s acquaintances don’t hold jobs, their social lives have more flexibility than those of us who have to earn a living.

“Kenny’s grandson.”

“I thought you and Kenny broke up.”

“We did. I’m done with him!” This is undoubtedly an untruth. Mama is never done with any man she has dated. She may move on to another, but she always keeps the old ones around. Sort of like old shoes. You might not wear them out everyday but you keep ‘em in the closet as a spare.

“And if his daughter says one God damned word about how I’m dressed…”

“What does she usually say about how you dress?”

“She’s little Miss Proper and Christian who dudnt think a pair of shorts  is appropriate unless it covers yer knees.” I tend to agree with Miss Proper and Christian on this one. Having seen Mama’s middle aged ass poured into a pair of Daisy Dukes , her muffin top having popped the top button 20 pounds ago, I can assure you that appropriate is the last adjective anyone would use to describe such an outfit.

“It ain’t as if she didn’t get knocked up when she was 13! She wutent worried about coverin’ her knees, or keepin’ ‘em together then was she. And if she says one word that’s exactly what I’m gonna say to her.”

“Why are you even going? You broke up with his grandfather and his mother can’t stand you.”

“Well I wanna be there for the little boy. He ain’t done nothin.”

“He’s 12. And I’m pretty sure, no offense, that a 12 year old could give a shit if you came or not.”

“I guess I just need outta the house!”

“Well go somewhere else then. This party sounds like a disaster waiting to happen. I can tell already there will be drama.”

“If they wanna bring it, let ‘em! I’m ready! They don’t know who they’re dealin’ with!”

“God. Don’t ruin this kids birthday. I gotta go.”

Let’s Catch Up, Shall We?

It’s been a few weeks since I had time to blog…so let’s catch up a bit, shall we? I’ve been busier than a one armed paper hanger with work. This is a good thing. The company I started this year has kept me with a full plate of work. And press! A house I designed has been featured on CNBC, MSN, Apartment Therapy, and the real estate blog, Curbed. If you want to keep  up with all this, you really need to CLICK HERE and go like my company on Facebook. Really, click it. It makes me feel good to see new “Likes” when I update the page. Go on now, click.

So, work has had me all over the place. Myrtle Beach, West Virginia, High Point, NC. I come home from my day job and work til bedtime. It’s exhausting but fulfilling.  As you might expect, such a schedule means I grab a nap whenever I can. Like yesterday. I finished one project and decided I needed a little recharge before I geared up for the next one. So I passed out on our big ole family room sofa. As I woke up, I had the sensation that someone was near me. I figured it was Darling, sneaking up to “scare” me awake. So I flipped over and screamed “Boo!”. Which certainly did scare Darling, who was sitting on the other side of the room wondering why on Earth I had rolled over and screamed.

Anyhoo…Mama is on a roll lately. It is apparently “a full time job” just making sure my Grandmother takes her medicine properly. I remember when my great grandmother was alive…my grandmother and her sisters would take turns going over to her house on Sundays and divying up the pills she had to take into one of those pill boxes that has little slots for each day. The whole affair took an hour, tops, because I visited with her many times while this went on. In fairness, an hours time probably is a full time job to someone like mama.

Mama has made a huge drama (imagine!) over something that sounds like a complete and utter NOTHING. Maybe someone in the family can tune me into the truth, but apparently one of my uncles brought grandma a “mess” of fresh green beans. More than Granny can eat herself, so she intended to share them with her sister. Mama called her sisters husband to come up and get their portion of the beans. According to mama, this ruffled feathers, and one aunt “blessed her out” because it “wasn’t her place” to call them. I have no idea why this is a big deal…but Mama has felt the need to tell me the story, in exasperated tones, three times now.

And she hasn’t slept well lately, owing at least one night to the fact that her shoulder was killing her from, you guessed it, driving her new manual transmission car. Didn’t I predict that stick shift would make for countless excuses one day? I sure did.

Then, night before last, she didn’t sleep well because Kenny showed up at “quarter to midnight” drunk. Now, I have no  idea what kind of drunk Kenny is. Some drunks are funny, some are mean, and some are just depressing. I would guess he is the depressing sort. And since he and Mama are on the outs because he tried to “hoodwink her” into…well  honestly, I don’t exactly know what he hoodwinked her into, she relayed the story twice, and it involves them babysitting his three year old grandson and the kid using up every sheet of paper in the notebook they gave him to color in. If that makes no sense, welcome to my world. So I imagine ole Kenny tied one on and came out to Mamas hoping for a reconciliation.

Under the circumstances, most people who’d been dating a person for most of a year might have put aside whatever differences the coloring book had created and insisted the intoxicated person sleep it off on their sofa. Or at the very least insist they leave. So, naturally, mama did neither of those things, choosing instead to call the police. I’ve no doubt in my mind that had she told Kenny to leave, he would have without hesitation. I can picture the scene, he knocks on the door and she dials 911. Because the “police ain’t worth a damn here!” Kenny was gone before they arrived. I’m sure the stress of the whole encounter will keep  her from resting most of the week.