It is Do The Right Thing hot, the ants are back in the kitchen, the mosquitoes won’t let me sleep but it’s my co-worker who rolls his eyes at people who work his nerves. Must be the Bronx in him or I’m getting nice in my new age. Still, if you think my famously workable nerves are refashioning themselves into butter smooth mellowness, think again. This week’s nuisances:
*People who can’t spell. Blogger has spell-check. Most email programs have spell-check. Word has spell-check. Misspelling antidisestablishmentarianism is one thing. Not knowing how to spell a two syllable word that can be seen on neon signs galore as you drive through Oakland or San Francisco or even Hayward is unacceptable.
*Vapid Blogger(s). Do I give a damn about your muscles? You try chasing gang members around buildings in three to four inch heels in 85+ degrees and then I’ll give you props.
*my reaction to Vapid Blogger(s): You’re not gay or a mean girl. I am the better writer. So why do you bring out the Whatever Happened to Baby Jane cattiness in me?
*BWP or the jackass also known as Bi-Polar Wannabe. BWP has now sent me the same message three different times(email, Friendster, MySpace). So he recognized my behind at Jamba Juice. This is supposed to make me want to talk to him again? Enough already.
Thank goodness for Izzy and the fact that I love my job. Now I have mosquitoes to kill.