Saturday, August 18, 2007
three examples of what's wrong with this world
i'm at the caribou coffee at the end of my block because i had to get up and get spoon tickets for when they play chicago in october, which went on sale at 10 on the ticketbastard. i love how the two tickets ended up being $64.66 when they were advertised as $21.50. my receipt says that there is a $1 facility charge - fine, the riv can have a buck, whatever - but then there is also a $7 "convenience" charge per ticket. that does not include, by the way, the $5.10 "order processing charge" and a random 56 cents in additional taxes. fucking ripoff. i'm glad i'm going to see spoon, but i don't think that there are a lot of bands that i want to pay more than $25 to see, especially since i try to go to lots of shows.
anyway, pos and i are going to wisco for the day and i am going to connecticut on sunday for work, so i'll make this quick.
bp stands for bastard pricks: they're justifying the fact that they get to dump more shit into lake michigan - "54 percent more ammonia and 35 percent more sludge . . . each day. Ammonia promotes algae blooms that can kill fish, while sludge is full of concentrated heavy metals" - by saying that it will create a whopping 80 more jobs. fuck you, assfaces. lake michigan is the largest source of fresh water in america, and big business will do whatever it takes to make sure that we all fucking die of lack of clean water, edible fish and breathable air. that's where i get my water. those are the beaches i go to. this makes me so fucking mad. durbin and emanuel are collecting names for a petition to bring to a meeting with bp on sept 4 - i know that adding your name to an online petition seems like an empty gesture, but please do it anyway - click here. and, better yet, of course, don't buy bp gasoline.
okay, on a lighter note, here is an update on carol, as i relayed in email to friends this week who requested her latest:
carol, the crazy, elderly hoarder who smells like cat piss, wears a crooked wig and wanders the halls in her pajamas who lives next door to me, is moving - not to an assisted-living home, where she belongs, but to a three-bedroom furnished (like she needs more stuff) house that her nieces and nephews convinced her to buy (presumably because it will be easier to inherit her money when it is all in one place, a house, rather than tucked away in stocks and stuffed into mattresses). her relatives, who all look like meth addicts from indiana, have been moving her and her floor-to-ceiling collections of utter shit out of the two apartments she rents for at least a month now. the smell coming out of the apartments, with all of the stuff being moved around in 85-degree heat, is incredible. i can't help but take a peek into the open doors when i pass them, and i have never seen a larger collection of worthless shit in my life.
poor deranged old lady.