Yah.  I’m back home and totally enjoying the comforts of my OG and my happy little office.  It’s always nice to get to travel far and wide, but even nicer to come home… especially since I had only been married a scant week when I had to leave on that jetplane.  But that’s another story all together ain’t it?

So, OG and I have been known to have some pretty interesting conversations in the last 7 years that we have worked together.  No holds barred.  Really.  We talk about anything and everything.  Which brings me to what we are talking about here.

At lunch, we generally find some kind of magazine full of gossip or short, yet hilarious ditties.  The conversation turned interesting when I found a short article about an ape who doesn’t dig girl apes….  Read this… you’ll love it.

AMSTERDAM (Reuters) – Sibu the Orangutan has miffed his Dutch keepers by refusing to mate with females and showing sexual interest only in tattooed human blondes.

Apenheul Primate Park hoped Sibu would become its breeding male when he arrived two years ago, but orangutans aren’t his type.

“He chases them, or ignores them, but he doesn’t do what he should do,” said a spokeswoman for the park.

Instead, Sibu fancies his female keepers, especially blondes. That, the spokeswoman said, was common for orangutans but Sibu has a fetish for tattoos, harking back to a heavily tattooed keeper who reared him.

“Orangutans have special interests in special subjects. Sibu happens to like tattoos,” she said.

So, this brought up the question of whether orangutans have a penis bone like most other mammals or if their penis gets hard like a human penis does.  Yah, I know what you must be thinking…  perfectly acceptable, lady-like lunchtime conversation.  So, we finished up our lunch and google’d it, as we google every sick and twisted thing we can think of.  And we found out that an orangutan does, in fact, have a penis bone.

OG has decided that I, being the blonde and tattoo’d chippie that I am, should stay the hell out of Amsterdam.

Just thought I’d share that tid-bit with you kids.  Cheers!

(Article Copyright 2007 Reuters)

So, we get bombarded with uberous amounts of telemarketing calls every day at the office.  I’m usually not very nice to these poor people.  I know they are just doing their job, but for fuck sake I already have the support from SMR Digital marketing, there is no other type of marketing I need for my business at the moment…  Go back to school, get a degree and get a real job not bothering the people who already have a real job.  Jeeeez, it’s pretty simple.

Some days I’m pissy, so I find it an amusing way to take out some aggression and anger… “I’ve asked you damn people to put me and our other 3 numbers on you damn do not call list. Call me again, I dare ya.”

Some days I’m busy and I simply have no time for the bullshit they are trying to pimp off on me…  “I am way too busy to bother talking to you. Have a great day.”  Then I generally slam the phone in someone’s ear.

Some days I’m bored with work, and blogging, and Poppit, and porn *snicker*, so I may entertain a telemarketer for a few minutes if what they say off the bat is interesting enough to make me release the mouse and stop popping the balloons hanging on my monitor. 

Mind you, I never know if it’s my boss calling from Germany, so I always, ALWAYS answer the phone in an oh-so-pleasant voice… until I find out who it is.

“Good Morning, how may I help you?”  Note how pleasant that is.

“Hello, Ma’am.  This is Sherri.  I’m calling from Fairfield with a wonderful offer that we thought you may be interested in.”

I say, “Oh, really?  What kind of offer do you have there, Sherri?”

Sherri goes on her schpeeeeel now:
“Well, we are calling to offer to individuals who have been pre-qualified in your area, the opportunity to come stay for a week at one of our several resorts, your choice.  All you have to do is come and listen to a presentation about the property and take a tour.  We do have a small fee to cover taxes and meals, but the stay itself if complimentary.  What do you think?”

– First, let me tell ya, I’m sure I’m not prequalified for dick.  Up until a week ago, I didn’t own a home, I don’t have a husband, and I’m sure my credit report would make someone run screaming away…  But I decided what the fuck.  I’m bored.  I’ll play along.

So I say “Can I ask you to hold one sec.  I need to grab this other line.”
Totally a lie, but I need to get Olga to play along with me.  We are life partners from way back.   I run into Olga’s office and tell her the story and she’s all ready to play along.  So, I get back on the phone.

I start off….
“Thanks, Sherri.  I’m glad you held for me, I’d like to consider signing up.  I could use a cheap vacation.  You said there is no obligation?”

Sherri says, “No. No obligation at all.”

I ask, “How much is this fee you were talking about.”

Sherri says, “It’s not much.  Only $275.00 and you can even put it on your Visa or Mastercard.”

I say, “I can put it on a credit card?  But I don’t have a credit card.  My partner keeps them and won’t let me charge anything. Let me put her on the phone.”

I half expected to hear shock and/or awe in Sherri’s voice that my parter is a chick, and a dominating one that won’t give me a credit card at that.  But she was impressively non-judgemental since money talks. For more marketing news and articles, checkout https://hustlelife.net/wealthy-affiliate-review/

Olga gets on the phone, “Hello?”

Sherri said, “Hi.  I’m Sherri from Fairfield.”

Olga asked, “What is this deal that you have Rhonda so excited about that she wants the credit card right now?”

Sherri goes through her whole schpeeeeel again.

Olga says, “Well, I don’t think we are interested.  I do not want to get tied up in a timeshare type deal and I know all about this kind of scam.  Since we aren’t married we aren’t qualified for any kind of couple deals or anything.”

Sherri didn’t want to lose the sale so she said, “Can you put Rhonda back on the phone?”

Olga goes on, “Well, it would be pointless to put her back on the phone since she has no money and no credit cards.  But you have a nice day now, ok?”

At least if Sherri was on an hourly wage, she made her money honestly that day.
And Mom, I’m getting married.  We aren’t really life partners.  Just partners in crime, heh.  =D

[ Blogged in realtime, Wednesday, 20-Jun-2007, kinda like that stupid TV show 24, but without that asshat kid of Donald Sutherland’s… ]

Here we are folks.  It’s a wonderfully balmy Wednesday night at CatScratch Jane’s.  I’m sitting with a bird’s eye view of all the going’s on.  Karaoke is getting ready to kick off and it looks as if all the regular crowd (good and bad) has started peppering in.

The Twin Blow Out is starting here tomorrow, but the biker boys on their motor-scooters are plentiful.  The patio’s a-buzzing, the inside is buzzing.  We’re looking forward to an eventful night.  Bring on the singers.

A real blow-out, right?  Uh. No.  It’s another train-wreck.  That’s what I get for being all amp’d up for a party!  Thus far we have heard a not-so-right-on rendition of “Live and Let Die” (help me!).  Now we are on to the worst drunken interpretation of “You Look So Good In Love” that I’ve ever heard… whining included.

The place is packed.  Folks are piled up everywhere, inside and out with the best bike rack carriers for cars and trucks on all their vehicles.  I’m dying for a beer.  But dammit, it’s busy.  I’m going to wither up and fall in the floor from lack of alcohol.  But as I sit here, waiting for Cutie Pie (our beer wench) to surface, I think to myself “Damn, girl!  You’re hair looks gooood!”

Finally!  A hot guy is getting up to sing.  I missed his name, but he’s wearing a polo shirt and baseball cap.  He’s singing Toby!  You go, boy!  Mercy me, yes.  He sure should have been a cowboy.

I’m still waiting on my beer.  It’s nearly 10pm.  Through the open windows I hear the clank of the triangle being busted by a gaggle of pool shooting biker boys.  Now and then a loud, orgasmic burst of noise comes when one of the bikes fire up.

Ya know, Christmas is coming up.  Harley.  Under the tree.  Big red bow.  Thanks in advance to whomever decides to make this purchase for me.  I’m obliged.

Finally, at 9:55pm, Mark drags his ass in.  “Log the time, Scotty!”  He has mercy and goes to hunt Cutie Pie for my beer.  Bless you, hon.  I was withering.

By 10 I’m thinking, “I thought this was going to be the kick off to a bad ass biker weekend party… it’s more like B-97.5 night in the local geriatric ward.”  Never has an hour seemed more like ten.  Never have I wanted someone to shoot me in the ears worse than I do right this very minute.  “Log the time, Scotty!”

10:01.  Scotty is so excited to be here that he’s taken to watching the drag queens on the t.v. above the bar.  *snicker*  You dirty boy, you.  But wait:  Here comes Nike!  He’s belting out some bad ass Lionel Ritchie love song,  The boy possesses the ability to wake up a bored and otherwise depressed drinking crowd.

Oh my, what’s this?  The heavens have opened up and some good singers with some happy ditties are now on a roll.  Joe hops up and belts out a soulful blues number (he really rocks the hell out of the blues).  Now if we can talk him into losing his “Bat Outta Hell” CD… *wink wink*  You know I love ya, Joe.

I belted out some goodies too, if I do say so myself.  I dueted with Cowboy Billy-Joe-Tom-Bob and sang “Dontcha.”  He kicks ass on the rap part.  Freestyle baby!

I then attempted to do the night justice, with Nike’s help, by belting out “At Last” … the Etta James classic.  Choice.  Very choice.

My news reporter skills are being diminished by the amount of cold beer and Jack Daniels I have consumed.  At this time, all I can really say is that everytime I get up from my corner booth, I end up grabbing this poor girls ass.  So, I end up making light of it, in my regular Diva style.  I own up to it.  I look her in the eye and tell her, “I’m sorry for grabbing your ass everytime I get walk by!”

“Log the time, Scotty!”  It’s 11:14, and I’m drunk. Food ordered. Yah!  I comment to Scotty that we are evil.  He says “No, we’re just honest.”  Good one.

Finally.  Something note-worthy.  A drunken skank finally falls out of her chair into the floor.  NEXT!  Scotty dies laughing, and notes the time is 11:23.

Food on tap.  CatScratch has the best food around.  Especially if too much alcohol has been consumed.  Cue the onion rings.

And the french fries.

Scotty is in the loo, so I’m logging the time as 11:34.

So, if tonight was any forecast of the drunken festivities that are to go on for the next several days at CatScratch… all I can say is WOW!  Good luck with that!

I maintain here and now, I’m Diva enough to stay on the porch, because I certainly can’t keep up with the big dogs.  *rolls eyes*

Woof!  Out.

There are a few people who tell me I waste money.  Like, every now and again, I’ll throw down $8 on an apparently useless domain name.  Funny thing is, I’ve gotten some pretty decent traffic out of most of them.  This blog has done very little in the way of pushing Advertising, but still, it has consistenly made eight-to-ten dollars every month.
Paid for a domain, got a few more readers.

I watch a lot of people play with nye nettcasino (more at https://groovegaming.com/), betting $5 into the lotto twice a week.  Most of them have never, and will probably never, win much of anything.  Case in point, a friend of mine won $3 after ten years of $10 a week.  That’s a lot of money to waste, look at this article for a very well written argument.

To me, throwing $5.25 down on an Ebay listing that’ll probably go nowhere is fun.  It’s certainly more productive than a lotto ticket, and it might actually sell… One time I got curious about powerball numbers and tried our luck.

Some people just don’t get it.  One of the best thing to know is that every dollar counts.  The more spend-$8-and-make-$9 things you can do, the more chance you have at coming out $1 ahead each time. For some people, they spend money on online gambling games like indiaportfolio.co.uk. If this also interests you, go to spacing.ca to learn about samantha gambling site. Sometimes, I’ll do one or two from time to time between job silliness.  Other times, I’ll sit and do it all day.  Though boredom often starts the process, the process is certain anything but boring.
Those days are fun, because I’m bouncing around doing three or four hundred different things.  So how much do I actually make on what most people consider a “waste of time?”

It’s fun stuff to think about.  😉