What in the flying monkey fuck is this?!

This is from Taylor Gifts. Are they freaking insane?! I’m buying the Banana Saver through Amazon even though it’ll be 44 cents more, because that’s a ridiculous policy.
Edit: My wife woke up to go to the bathroom and I told her about this outrageous charge. She yelled at me for ordering a Banana Saver that I don’t need, so I canceled it. But still! *shakes tiny fist*
Here is some weirdness. I posted an ad on Craigslist for my kayak.
from: Kristin Troy <kristin.troy@hotmail.com>
I’m interested in your Add and i’ll like to know if the Add is still active.Pls Get back asap,
Thanks.
Yes, the kayak is still available…are you interested?
Hello,
Glad to read from you…. I’m really interested in the Add but i’m so sorry as i won’t be able to come for a look as i’m the busy type. Well, i’ll keep in touch with my financier to mail a check for the amount you’re requesting for the Add and will have a shipping company to come for the pick up as soon as you confirm to me that you receive the check and it clears your bank.
If this arrangement is acceptable, pls get back to me with your name as it will appear on the check and your contact address that the check will be mail to along with your cell #. Get back as soon as possible,
Thanks.
Thanks for your interest, but I think you would do better buying one
that doesn’t require shipping.
(Is that weird or what? Who has a 17-foot kayak shipped to them? I smell a scam.)
Added: Well this is odd…there is a Kristin Troy who runs Idaho Adventures, a rafting outfitter…who also does kayaking…hmm.
Today is what we call a clusterfuck of epic proportions. (Firefox’s spell checker has flagged clusterfuck, but I don’t care.) This weekend we were helping a friend move down from New York to DC. To live in our house, actually, until he finds a place of his own. Which I’m not happy about, but at least he’s going to find a place of his own, and damn soon if I have anything to say about it. Two boarders was too many already; fortunately we’re still living at the in-laws’ for the time being. Anyway, today was a giant mess.
This morning we started working at around 8:00 or 8:30; he guessed we’d be out of there by noon. Half an hour later, he was standing around doing nothing. I said “do you need something to do?” He said no, and continued standing around doing nothing. So a few minutes later, A asked him if he was waiting for something. He said yes, he was waiting for us to get off the rug so he could vacuum it. A pointed out that things did not have to be done in a particular order, and there was lots more he could do meanwhile. (See, he wasn’t actually ready to go. He had left a lot of things undone. We suspect he spent his time masturbating, smoking weed, and playing video games instead. Normally these are pursuits I would approve of, but not when there are things to be done.) He got all huffy and ordered us to get out and go home, he’d do it all himself. Needless to say this was ridiculous and pissed off A and I quite a lot. She locked herself in the bathroom to cool off, and I went back to packing up his computer. Damn, I wish we’d left when he said to.
He did most of the carrying to the U-Haul while she and I cleaned the place. A lot of the carrying (down two flights of stairs) was done on Saturday, when we had hired two guys to come and help us out with the furniture…but there was still a lot left to be carried. So A and I cleaned and scrubbed…the bathroom, the refrigerator, the stove, the fingerprints from all the light switches and doorknobs, etc. I was working on the very dirty inside of a kitchen cabinet and A was working next to me at the sink when he stopped behind us and commented, “you guys are such good little scrubbers!” I turned around and gave him The Look of Death. He said something to the effect of “I wouldn’t have done that if you guys hadn’t been here” and A turned around and said “So…this doesn’t need to be done?” He said: no, not really. We immediately dropped our sponges and got ready to leave - bags gathered, coats on - and he said “are you leaving TOWN now? There’s so much left to do!” I was about to smack him in the mouth, I swear.
I went and got our car, which we’d parked a couple of blocks away on Friday night. I came back and brought my book for Sex & Gender class and sat with the U-Haul for a couple of hours, because that way he wouldn’t have to keep pulling the back gate up and down and locking and unlocking the padlock. (That’s what I did on Saturday instead of carrying anything - I was the truck guard and A did stuff upstairs.) I sat out there freezing my ass off - it was about 40 degrees both days, with no sun because of all the buildings. Finally it was time to go. At 3:10pm, that is. More than three hours later than he’d predicted, and five hours from when I wish we’d left, when he told us to.
We realized at the last minute that we couldn’t take the regular route to the Holland Tunnel, we had to take the truck route. He was behind us, and I called him and said “did you see we have to follow the truck route?” He said “oh, no! I didn’t see that.” So we led him through it. I don’t know why, but we stuck with him the whole way back to our house. After the final toll on the New Jersey Turnpike, which we breezed through with E-Z Pass, we sat on the shoulder and waited for half an hour until he came through. Half an hour. Wait, I remember why we stuck with him: because he’s a moron who can’t handle himself. He called up after the toll in Delaware and said “uh…do you have any cash? I’m running out of cash.” Apparently he didn’t have enough for tolls - they were costing him more than normal because he’s driving a truck, but he didn’t think to have LOTS of extra cash on hand. So fine, we pulled over on the shoulder together and I ran back with $40 cash. At the Fort McHenry toll, we went through a regular lane because there’s nowhere to pull over and wait after that one. Of course he managed to be so far behind us that we didn’t see him, but we figured he’d catch up. Nope: he’s still a moron.
We were around Catonsville when he called and said this priceless gem: “I took 695 East. Was that wrong?” Instant *headdesk* on my part. I said “Yes.” He said “I gotta go, bye” and hung up. So we had absolutely no idea what happened, what he was doing, or where he would end up. We drove another 8 miles to a rest area just past Route 32, and called him up again. Turns out he was still on 695 because he figured he could just loop around, and he said to go home, he’d find his way somehow. A pointed out that 695 is the Baltimore Beltway. So we told him we were waiting at the rest stop past Route 32, because obviously he needed help getting home. Fortunately that rest area was part of Maryland’s free wi-fi rest stop program, so I got on the computer and started typing this entry. (I’m still typing it, duh - we’re about to cross the American Legion bridge into Virginia.) He finally caught up and we set off…still guiding him…because he’s a moron.
This probably doesn’t sound too bad to most of you, but the guy was already on my shit list to begin with for various other stupidities. A wanted to help him move, so of course I came too. And I didn’t mind it, until today, when he became a complete idiot. God damn, he pissed me off so bad.
If you can’t say something nice, don’t say anything at all. Or at least say it in a totally different location on the internet.
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Today I had my hatred for MySpace (well, it’s a healthy dislike) renewed. Here is a totally spontaneous message from, and ensuing conversation with, this guy, whom I had never heard of before this morning.
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Am I the only one who finds Sean Paul’s “Temperature” video offensive? It’s not the bouncing boobs, it’s not the freak dancing, it’s not even the dancing kiddies (much) - it’s the stepping on women. Literally. I don’t consider myself extremely feminist, but this video is the most sexist thing I’ve seen on TV. There are a couple of spots during the video in which a trio of men literally step on a trio of women, physically pushing them down. (I’m not sure the link above is the full video, but it has at least one clip of this.) It’s horrible, and yet I couldn’t find much online about this. Now Verizon is using the song in one of their commercials; they’re not using the video but every time I hear the song it makes me mad.
Remember this guy? I’ll be seeing him again on Saturday. I have to admit I am scared. I heard this weekend that he’s not very professional, and the person hiring me wants me for the important stuff and him for the lesser stuff, but I’m worried. I’m also a bit worried that all of my friends will be attending Jessi’s bootblack training and I’ll be interpreting for the people I am not especially close to. Plus, Mr. Misogynist is apparently interpreting for the bootblack training.
boichick, what part are you coming down for? Maybe if I’m lucky the two won’t overlap and I’ll have everybody for the contest. The Baltimore Eagle website is not very forthcoming, so who knows. (Oh hey, I can e-mail the guy who’s hiring me and ask him.) I wonder if Mr. Misogynist will even remember me. You better believe I remember him.
I am having a hard time putting my finger on this malaise, but it’s been plaguing me for a while now.