...But I Can See How You'd Confuse The Two

This week Dad and I are doing some work for a friend of his. She owns a two-story house that she bought with the intention of fixing up and re-selling for a nifty profit. She hired us at the beginning of the summer to do a little work, claiming her ASSISTANT would be doing the rest. Fast forward a few months when Dad and I are back, trying to fix the goofs all over the house brought on by THE ASSISTANT who claimed she "knew what she was doing."

She didn't. Just because you watch a marathon of HGTV on Saturday doesn't necessarily mean you can run out and do the exact same thing on Monday.

This morning Dad was on the roof painting and I was on the porch. THE ASSISTANT was inside doing the only thing we would let her do in the house: Clean heating vent covers. I have banned her from touching another paint brush, roller, hammer, screwdriver, spackling knife, or drywall compound.

Dad finished what he was painting on the roof and tossed one of the dropcloths from the roof onto the ground before climbing down himself. A few minutes later THE ASSISTANT came out of the house and pointed behind me.

"Is that a tarp?" she asked.

I turned and looked where she was pointing and saw the gray square dropcloth in the yard. "Yeah. That's a tarp."

"Oh. I thought your dad fell off the roof." She began to laugh and giggle annoyingly. I think she was trying to be cute and/or charming, but she had all the style and finesse of a rusty bedspring one might find in an alley behind an abandoned army surplus store.

"Yeah that's not my dad. It's a tarp."

Let me just say, I can understand if you see something fly past the window out of the corner of your eye how you might think Dad fell off the roof. But to wait a few minutes, come outside, and then point at the tarp and try to differentiate between the two...well...that's just dumbness.

I Hate Your MySpace Page

Your MySpace page is ridiculous. And you know who you are.

You fill your page with so much crap it takes me 36 minutes to load the entire thing (and I have a cable connection). Did you know that in the time it takes your page to fully load 13 kids in Africa died from rickets and the ozone layer got smaller by .96%?

There are so many videos on YouTube that crack you up, you couldn't choose just one (they're all so funny!). So you uploaded 14 of them onto your page that will surely entertain everyone who decides to watch them all.

You feature music from 18 different bands. Conveniently, none of them are bands I have any interest in.

You have a background picture featuring colors that make it impossible to see and navigate my way around. But kudos for the image of a haggard fisherman aboard what I can only assume is a schooner made of cardboard. By moonlight.

You feature 6 different clever and witty little polls that give me even more insight on you that no one really cares about (My personal color; Which character from "The Jeffersons" am I; My mood rainbow; Which lunch meat are you?).

Splashed across the top of your page is "YOU GO GIRL" written in maroon glitter.

When I move my cursor around your page the images blur, or even more amazing, flip horizontally. It's like surfing the web with a hangover except without the trouble of getting drunk first.

You have all this and more on your MySpace page. I know this hurts to hear it, but someone had to say it. I hate your MySpace page, and so do your friends. It's not cute. It's not intriguing. It's not even entertaining. It hurts my eyes. Thank you for the headache and, as of last Tuesday, the epileptic fits.

Robbed

Someone stole my money clip, doggonit.

Last night I went to drop off my rent and decided to drive instead of walk. I stuck my money clip in the little console between the driver and passenger seats and forgot to grab it when I returned. Of course, when I went out to get it this morning, it was gone.

How can I live in cities like LA, Chicago, and New York and never once meet any harm and then come to Auburn Indiana and get ripped off. I hope they tried to use the credit card because the card I had in there was no good. I had $14 cash, my membership card to a video store (I should call to make sure no one tries to rent anything) and Borders, my tip chart, and some other stuff that I guess wasn't too important (except my discount card I bought that gets me 3 cents off every gallon of gas I buy...crap!). The most annoying thing will be replacing my driver's license.

Ugh.