Category Archives: Jackassery

Dear Craigslist People

Dear Craigslist People,

I know you turn to Craigslist to find a bargain (unless you’re one of those jackasses that posts nekkid pix of yourself from your Grandma’s bathroom…the crocheted poodle toilet paper cover is a dead giveaway, just in case you were wondering how I knew you were at your Grandma’s house perving it up in her bathroom. Also, FYI, pictures taken in your nasty bedroom with the Whitesnake poster on the wall OR a Spongebob blanky anywhere in sight? NOT HOT )

Anyway, I know you folks want to save a few bucks so you look around on Craigslist but seriously, you need to KNOW a few things…

If I’m selling 60 pieces of name-brand girls clothing, all in excellent condition and I’m only asking $20, which, for the math-impaired, is 33¢ an item, I’m NOT taking pictures of every single item and I’m NOT going to answer stupid questions about every item and I’m NOT going to sell it to you for five freaking dollars—especially when I know your cheap, sorry ass is probably going to turn around and sell it on eBay anyway. Which is fine. I hate eBay so better you than me. But I’d give it to Goodwill before I’d let you have it for that—go buy it from them. I mean really…have you NO shame? I’d be embarrassed to ask people to give me a SEVENTY FIVE PERCENT price break…

The same goes for the Little Tikes Craftsmen Tool Bench. Dude…it’s in mint condition and I’m asking twenty dollars for it. Do NOT send me an email asking if I’ll take five for it.  Is there anything in my listing that says this is “Let’s Make a Really Bad (for me) Deal?” If you seriously can’t afford more than five bucks, maybe you should SELL YOUR COMPUTER (I’ll give you five bucks for it) and get rid of your internet service instead of lowballing people on Craigslist all day long.

And finally, for all you asswipes that bug the living crap out of me and beg me to not sell my stuff to someone else and then don’t show up… I wish you a scorching case of herpes with a nice sprinkling of genital warts. I mean you clearly have a phone, since you called me 17 times to make sure I hadn’t sold the item(s) you so desperately wanted. How about picking up said phone and letting me know you won’t be coming? I might even be nice and understanding and NOT wish you a lifetime of oozing blisters and weird bumpy things on your nether regions. But if you offer me five dollars? All bets are off.

As ever,
IzzyMom

What Kind of an Idiot Thinks This is Okay?

Ahhh…it’s that time of year again. Time for witches and ghosts and goblins and of course, the trashy, slutty costumes for little girls that make my blood boil. But…I’ve railed about those plenty in the past. Everyone who gets mail probably already knows of a certain national party store chain that carries an assortment of inappropriate costumes for elementary aged girls which, given how I feel about corporate America sexualizing children, kinda makes me want to hurl.

Before I go any further, though, let me ask if you, as a parent, make a habit of letting your 5-7 year olds (or even 8-10 year olds) watch movies like Nightmare on Elm Street or The Texas Chainsaw Massacre or Friday the 13th or Saw or Hostel? I’m sincerely hoping the answer is no and I’m just going to assume that the vast majority of you are responsible parents who would never do something so reprehensible  <— A must read!

So, that said, you probably wouldn’t be able to explain to me WHY THE EVER LOVING HELL why the aforementioned national party store chain is selling Freddy Krueger (of Nightmare on Elm Street) and Jason (Friday the 13th) costumes for FIVE to SEVEN year old kids and Leatherface (of The Texas Chainsaw Massacre) masks for children?

Can you tell me? Because I sure as hell can’t figure it out. In any case? It’s messed up.

5-7 years old???

5-7 years old??? Even 8-10 yrs old is effed up.

Fits Most Kids???

Fits Most CHILDREN???

Nice.

Nice

And riddle me this…even if you haven’t let your kids see these movies but you DO buy them the costume, out of some kind of twisted nostalgia, I assume, WHAT do you tell them their costume is, exactly? Do you say “Oh, Leatherface is this guy in a movie that dismembers and kills tons of people with a chainsaw. Oh, and his mask? It’s made from the skin of his victims!”?

I mean seriously, I’d LOVE to know.

And yes, it’s very likely that I AM judging you for that. I admit it.

But I’m judging the store that sells this crap for little kids even more more harshly—what the hell are they thinking?

Me vs. The Giant Corporation

I have two kids and in the three years that we’ve had On-Demand movies with our Verizon fiber optic cable, it’s made me incredibly lazy in that I have no need to drive to Blockbuster and rent movies anymore. I just flip to the On-Demand menu and find whatever it is we want to watch. This is great when it’s just adults but not so great when it’s my kids who want to see a movie.

Let me preface this story by saying we have every parental control available set on our TV. I’m a firm believer that kids are exposed to too much too soon in this world and I do everything I can to slow that down. They’re children. They’re just not equipped to process and understand so much of what is freely available on TV and every time ANY child is exposed to violence, sex or other adult-oriented things, I honestly believe it chips away at their innocence and shortens their childhood a bit.

So anyway…my gripe with Verizon’s On-Demand service is that when you go to the On-Demand menu, they immediately start showing trailers for movies that are otherwise blocked by the parental controls I’ve set. The trailers themselves ought to be rated R based on their content.

So here I am, scrolling to get to the kid and family movies and they’re showing trailers for shit like “Last House on the Left” If you’re not familiar with that film (the original OR the remake) it’s a delightful story about rape, torture and revenge. Of course, that’s not the only completely inappropriate trailer that’s come on while my kids are sitting beside me hoping to find “Horton Hears  Who” or “Wall-E” or whatever. It’s just the one that finally made me Lose. My. Shit.

My odyssey into the world of corporate buck-passing started with a phone call to Verizon customer support. I demanded to know how to change my settings so we won’t have to be a captive audience and watch said previews while searching for children’s entertainment. I’m told, “Sorry!  There is no way to do that”.

Not satisfied, I comb Verizon’s web sites searching for some kind of venue in which I can file a complaint. Nothing but a general form that limits you to 700 characters—gah.  I leave a message asking someone to contact me. They do. I tell them my issue. They say they’ll have someone call me.

They do. I tell the person who calls me my issue. They can’t help me. They transfer me to someone else.

They can’t help me. They transfer me to someone else.

That guy says he’s NEVER heard anyone complain about the trailers on On-Demand before. I tell him I find that hard to believe. He tells me there is no venue for a complaint like mine and to basically GIVE UP.

Infuriated, I ask to speak to someone else. I get thrown back into the customer service phone hell that I originally called and I tell my whole story AGAIN and of course,  (everyone say it with me!) THEY CAN’T HELP ME.

I ask to speak to a supervisor.

I’m told by the supervisor that my best bet is to send a letter via snail mail. I tell her that’s not good enough because my letter will end up in a stack of other letters, I will never hear from anyone and that will be it.

She is sympathetic and says she will have HER supervisor call me on Monday. (Shockingly, nobody ever calls me)

That same day, I get on Twitter and start raising a stink about being given the run around by Verizon, about how their customer service is terrible, about how I have a legitimate complaint that involves children and families. I include every official Verizon username on Twitter in my 140 character diatribes. I figure if Dooce can use Twitter to make Maytag jump through hoops of fire and replace her lemon of a dryer, maybe little old me can get someone from Verizon to at least HEAR ME.

Nothing happens. Nobody from Verizon replies.

A week later, someone from Verizon FINALLY replies to one of my tweets.

I ask them point blank how to block the trailers on On-Demand so that they reflect the settings on our parental controls. I expect the same answer I’ve been given over and over  (sorry, that can’t be done!) but I figure it’s worth putting it out there and getting it on SOMEONE’S radar screen so maybe someday they will change that.

Well, lo and behold, he sends me back a link and says “this will tell you how to do it”.

I follow the link and it takes me to a page on the Verizon site and there it says that “And recently some have been e-mailing us here to say that they object to some of the things that are out there” (that’s not what it said when I went there last month—they’ve majorly edited the page and completely changed the wording) and how they are super duper concerned about shielding children from inappropriate content yada yada—and here is how you change it…instructions follow. I try it and it works. But I also note that the option to block promotional material absolutely DID NOT EXIST previously in that menu

Also? It says THIS, which I can assure you is wholly inaccurate (also known as BULLSHIT). They showed whatever they damn well pleased without a second thought to who might be watching for the entire three years that we’ve had their service. THREE YEARS:

First, let me note that Verizon has long had a policy that we will not air questionable content in our on-demand trailers.  We edit out mature content, and try to keep our on-demand trailers family-friendly.  In a few cases where that policy was not followed, we made changes as soon as we were aware of the problem.

So anyway, I go back and look at the date on the post on the Verizon site and it’s exactly ONE WEEK after I spent 2 hours on the phone with a minimum of five Verizon employees being told repeatedly that there was NO WAY to do this and that NOBODY else had ever complained about this issue. ONE WEEK after being told someone would call me on Monday (and never did) and ONE WEEK after I twittered myself silly addressing all available Verizon usernames.

Call me arrogant, call me delusional, call me Donna Quixote if you want but I firmly believe that *I* made Verizon change their system. If there was no way to do it before and NOBODY had ever complained about it before, according to THEM, then it was me. *I* brought this issue to their attention and *I* made them fix it and honestly, I’m way proud of myself for not giving up on this and I’m even prouder to have proven that one little voice CAN make a difference.

But really, I can’t take full credit. Some of it goes to the Verizon rep who told me to GIVE UP…  So THANK YOU, O’ STUPID VERIZON GUY. I owe at least a fraction of my awesomeness to you.

Thanks for Nothing, Big Corporate Robber Barons

Okay, I finally got up the nerve to make the appointment for Asscam 09 (tomorrow & I’m terrified) only to find out that since it’s a diagnostic asscam instead of a screening asscam, it’s going to cost me a $300 copay because, inexplicably, it’s considered an outpatient SURGERY.

Seriously?

The woman from the insurance company says it’s because they invade your body. Well, if that’s the case, those transvaginal ultrasounds they give you when you’re pregnant should be considered surgery, too. I’m sorry but I consider having a big old phallic-shaped device poking me in my lady bits to also be pretty damned invasive (and not nearly as *fun* as it sounds).

My complaint in a nutshell? We have the VERY BEST plan offered by my husband’s employer and we pay a small fortune the equivalent of our mortgage payment for it every month and they won’t cover a freaking colonoscopy 100%?

Frankly, that alone is reason for me to reconsider having it done, although I’m sure that’s EXACTLY what my insurance company is hoping for because if I don’t get it done, then they won’t have to pay for ANYTHING. I guess it’s never occurred to them that an asscam is a hell of a lot cheaper than treatment for advanced colon cancer or some other horrid potential diagnosis down the road. To hell with all that fancy, highfalutin’ logical thinking…

Health care reform of some kind CANNOT come soon enough, IMO.

If you have kids and have ever posted a pic of them on your blog or on Flickr, you should really read this post because…well, because I said so. And because really, who wants pix of their kids labeled with porn tags by a search engine?

Mean Girls Suck

Mean girls suck, too...

Mean girls suck, too...

Every summer my daughter goes to day camp. She absolutely loves it and looks forward to it all year long.

This year, the camp has started having theme days which are kind of like spirit days at school. Recently, the theme was superheroes and princesses and N was pretty psyched about it.

As princess and superhero day approached, however, I began to have doubts about the merits of this particular theme. For one thing, my daughter is going in to third grade—most of her old princess dress-up clothes don’t even fit anymore.

I pointed out to her that most princess dress-up clothes are made for younger kids and a lot of girls probably won’t participate because they’ve outgrown their princess dresses. I even went so far as to suggest she dress as a superhero instead,

“We could make a really cool costume out of stuff we already have!”

I was met with a look that fell somewhere between abject horror and unwavering determination to tune out her obviously insane mother.

It became clear that my daughter fully intended to ignore me and my sensible advice so I backed off.

The next day, she came skipping out of her room with a frilly light green Tinkerbell princess dress (yes, I know Tinkerbell isn’t a princess but Disney apparently does not). While she looked adorable in her almost too small dress, a bad feeling settled in the pit of my stomach as I hugged and kissed her goodbye.

N is a sweet, sociable, happy-go-lucky girl who gets along with pretty much everyone but when she came home from camp that day, she didn’t seem like herself. She was lying on the couch watching TV, looking pretty sad and dejected.

I sat down and asked her if everything was alright.

After some gentle prodding, she told me that she was the ONLY girl in her group (besides her counselor) to dress up and that when she arrived, the other girls pointed and laughed at her.

One perpetually mean girl looked at her and sneered  loudly “Isn’t Tinkerbell for babies?”

“And what did you say?”

She replied softly “I said no”

I wanted to annihilate those girls for hurting my baby, for crushing her spirit like that without a second thought.

I proceeded to do try and undo some of the damage.

“Tinkerbell is NOT for babies. You know that, right? They make clothes for grown women with Tinkerbell on them. Not Cinderella, not Sleeping Beauty. TINKERBELL.”

“And you are NOT a baby. You’re actually older than a lot of those girls.”

The thing is, my daughter may be several months older but she is very innocent and unjaded and perhaps a bit sheltered.

Unlike a lot of girls her age, she still likes fairies and princesses and mermaids…exactly the way an eight year old girl should be, IMHO.

Don’t get me wrong—she’s NOT the victim of a plot to keep her artificially immature or anything. She’s just been exposed to different things and really,  in some ways, she’s more sophisticated than her peers—she’s able to talk to adults about a wide range of topics and she has an understanding of the world that a lot of kids her age don’t possess. While they’re obsessing over Hannah Montana and High School Musical, she’s watching British science fiction (The Sarah Jane Adventures) and NOVA and Dinosapiens, reading chapter books at a 5th grade level and pursuing her numerous artistic interests.

But at heart, she’s still very much a little girl and I love that about her.

That night, I told my husband what she told me, how much it hurt me to see her like that. We both voiced the same sad thoughts…

She’ll probably never fully put herself out there like that again. Sad.

Something that she loved to do will always be tarnished by the memory of this day.

A little piece of childhood innocence was lost today…

The next day she told me that the mean girl who said “Isn’t Tinkerbell for babies?” plays Elmo games on Sesamestreet.com in the computer lab.

Pot? Meet Kettle.

I told her to call the girl out publicly for playing Elmo games.

I know on some level that was bad. I know two wrongs don’t make a right. I know turn the other cheek blah, blah, blah…

But this girl is always so mean and until she gets put in her place, she’s not going to stop. I know this from experience—and really, it’s BASIC human nature.

For the record, I’ve never been mean to anyone unprovoked. It’s not who I am. But if you mess with me past a certain point, you’ll get it back in kind.

That said, if I have to choose between some 8 year old mean girl and my daughter,  I’m choosing my daughter—I won’t fight her battles but I WILL teach her to stand up for herself.

And I make NO apologies…

I’m sure at least a few of you are DYING to tell me how wrong I am. Just keep it civil, please.

Hatelists: Everyone Should Make One

Don’t you sometimes just want to write a list of all the things/people you hate, piss you off or just plain annoy you? I do.

But then I’m all “Oh, but that’s so negative. I don’t want to be THAT person…all I HATE THIS and I HATE THAT!”

And then I hate myself for being so wimpy and spineless because seriously, why should I care? I’m feeling the hate and I want to vent and sharing is good—or at least that’s what they tell you in kindergarten and kindergarten teachers don’t lie, right? Because I would really hate them if they did.

So yeah, I’m gonna share the hate. And if  you start feeling the urge to lecture me about it, you should probably just not—or I’ll add you to my list.

The short list (because I’d hate to blow my whole hatewad in one shot):

• I hate when people walk away when you’re still talking to them. It makes me want to roundhouse kick them in their kidneys. Why? Because it’s just rude. Let’s roleplay for a sec… You be talking to me about something, anything, and I’ll just meander away while you’re talking. Makes ya wanna kick me, right? I knew it. You’re my kind of people.

• I hate when people send me an email or use the contact form on one of my other sites and try to convince me of how wrong I am about something BY INSULTING ME and then they link to their site which is, presumably, being left as a point of reference to my supposed wrongness and THEN? They throw in a little PR blurb about themselves. It makes me all “Dude. Do you seriously think I’m going listen to you or feature your product/service after you just talked a bunch of smack to me? You’re a social moron and if I cared about you at all, I’d send you a copy of Dale Carnegie’s “How to Win Friends and Influence People” and try to save you from your own stupidity but since I hate you? I won’t.

• People who work in stores and know NOTHING about what the store sells and are completely unapologetic about their ignorance. EXAMPLE: I go to Office Depot to buy some ink for this Kodak behemoth of a printer/scanner/copier because while I don’t need to print at this moment, I do need to scan stuff and this stupid piece of crap won’t let you SCAN until you buy more ink. Scanning is a completely inkless process and yet I’m held hostage until I throw down for ink. How am I going to put all those old pix that showcase the fact that I used to be hot and cellulite-free on Facebook without a scanner? Note to self: I also hate Kodak. Anyway, I search the ink section only to find there is ONE pack of Kodak ink and it’s for some other Kodak device. So I ask some Office Depot dude zipping around on one of those old people scooters if they carry Kodak ink and he doesn’t know. Whatever they have out is “probably” all they have, he says. He waves in the general direction of the aisle I just came from and zips away. Must be nice to get paid for being lazy, stupid and useless. I’m certain there’s a cubicle at AIG with his name on it. So yeah, I hate Kodak, I hate Office Depot and I hate that jerk on the scooter.

• I hate people that see you heading toward a certain register at a store and haul ass to get there first, even though you were closer. I hate them and if I thought I could get away with it, I’d totally set their hair on fire without a second thought. This also applies to people who pull this same shit with parking spaces. They get extra hate points if they’re one tiny little woman driving alone in a Hummer, Suburban or Excursion.

Wow…that felt really good. I can feel the clouds of hate dispersing already. I highly recommend making a hatelist, if only to make you feel less hateful and more tolerant of the things you hate.

Wait! Do I feel a brainstorm coming on? YESSSS!!!! Seminars, books-on-tape, infomercials, Home Shopping Network—an entire empire built on getting people to recognize their hate, vent their hate and eventually be at peace with their hate. I’m gonna be a zillionaire.

HA! Wrongcards rule.

Facebook Friend Request FAIL

Why do people turn into such buttheads when they become famous? Someone I knew fairly well years ago went on to become a big fish in his particular pond and on more than one occasion, I have been standing within feet of him, within HEY-I-TOTALLY-KNOW-YOU distance and not a single word of acknowledgment from him.

Of course, I must seem like an asshole to famous people because I won’t fawn all over them—but why should I? If you sit on a toilet every day and take a crap, you’re no better than anyone else. End of story. So I guess being ignored was supposed to be some sort of punishment for my refusal to pee myself over being in his presence?

Whatevs. It was a long time ago. Amongst other things, I now raise children, the future of America—you know, the people who will be wiping our collective asses when we’re old and demented? I just can’t bring myself to care all that much about fame and celebrity.

Anyway, it so happens this person friend-requested me the other day on Facebook. I’m truly dumbfounded because what? NOW you want to be my friend? NOW you want to acknowledge my existence? Seriously?

Well, from what I’ve heard, you’re still a big doucher.

Friend request FAIL!