Cantankerous Old Arse-Hat's Book of Carp

[Opsa]

Ye-gods, I feel like such a cantankerous old arse-hat, but there's gotta be someplace to say something about this, so here goes:

Is anyone sick of receiving long and overly sappy stories through email that they know are completely fictional which always end with a demand to pass it along to friends who care- with a side-swipe that if you DON'T pass it along, you're just a cantankerous old arse-hat who has no heart?

GAAARRRR!!!!!

I just got another one called "Red Marbles". Has anyone gotten this one? Ewww. Such pap! I need the brain bleach!

  ...Ahhhh, that's better.

Here it is, with my cantankerous remarks added in red.

"RED MARBLES (I should have guess by the title, but what did I know? It could have been about some sort of physical affliction!) I was at the corner grocery store (like I can relate to that) buying some
> early potatoes (as opposed to late potatoes, which are dead?).  I noticed a small boy, delicate of bone (must've had x-ray vision) and
> feature, ragged but clean(here's where my heart started to sink), hungrily appraising a basket of
> freshly picked green peas.  I paid for my potatoes, but was
> also drawn to the display of fresh green peas.  I am a
> pushover for creamed peas and new potatoes (She was going to cream freshly picked peas?). Pondering the
> peas, I couldn't help overhearing the conversation
> between Mr. Miller (the store owner) and the ragged boy next
> to me.  'Hello Barry, how are you today?'
> 'H'lo, Mr. Miller.. Fine, thank ya. Jus'
> admirin' them peas. They sure look good.' (Oh god, cute mis-spellings.) 'They
> are good, Barry. How' s your Ma?'  'Fine.
> Gittin' stronger alla' time.'  'Good.
> Anything I can help you with?'  'No, Sir. Jus'
> admirin' them peas.'  'Would you like take some
> home?' asked Mr. Miller.  'No, Sir. Got nuthin'
> to pay for 'em with.'  'Well, what have you to
> trade me for some of those peas?'  'All I got's
> my prize marble here.'  'Is that right? Let me see
> it' said Miller.  'Here 'tis. She's a
> dandy.'  'I can see that. Hmmmmm, only thing is this
> one is blue and I sort of go for red. Do you have a red one
> like this at home?' the store owner asked.  'Not
> zackley but almost.'  'Tell you what. Take this sack
> of peas home with you and next trip this way let me look at
> that red marble', Mr. Miller told the boy.  'Sure
> will. Thanks Mr. Miller.'  Mrs. Miller, who had been
> standing nearby, came over to help me.  With a smile said,
> 'There are two other boys like him in our community, all
> three are in very poor circumstances. Jim just loves to
> bargain with them for peas, apples, tomatoes, or whatever.
> When they come back with their red marbles, and they always
> do, he decides he doesn't like red after all and he
> sends them home with a bag of produce for a green marble or
> an orange one, when they come on their next trip to the
> store.'  I left the store smiling to myself, impressed
> with this man.  A short time later I moved to Colorado , but
> I never forgot the story of this man, the boys, and their
> bartering for marbles.  Several years went by, each more
> rapid than the previous one.  < BR>Just recently I had
> occasion to visit some old friends in that Idaho community
> and while I was there learned that Mr. Miller had died.
> They were having his visitation that evening and knowing my
> friends wanted to go, I agreed to accompany them. (Obviously she herself had no plans to go.) Upon
> arrival at the mortuary we fell into line to meet the
> relatives of the deceased and to offer whatever words of
> comfort we could.  Ahead of us in line were three young men.
>  One was in an army uniform and the other two wore nice
> haircuts, dark suits and white shirts...all very
> professional looking. (No, they couldn't have looked like hippies and still have been nice, could they?)  They approached Mrs. Miller, standing
> composed and smiling by her husband's casket.  Each of
> the young m en hugged her, kissed her on the cheek, spoke
> briefly with her and moved on to the casket.  Her misty
> light blue eyes followed them as, one by one, each young man
> stopped briefly and placed his own warm hand over the cold
> pale hand in the casket.  Each left the mortuary awkwardly,
> wiping his eyes.  Our turn came to meet Mrs. Miller. I told
> her who I was and reminded her of the story from those many
> years ago and what she had told me about her husband's
> bartering for marbles.  With her eyes glistening, she took
> my hand and led me to the casket.  'Those three young
> men who just left were the boys I told you about. They just
> told me how they appreciated the things Jim 'traded'
> them.  Now, at last, when Jim could not change his mind
> about color or size....they came to pay their debt.'
> 'We've never had a great deal of the wealth of this
> world,' she confided, 'but right now, Jim would
> consider him self the richest man in Idaho '.  With
> loving gentleness she lifted the lifeless fingers of her
> deceased husband. (Excuse me, but Ew...) Resting underneath were three exquisitely
> shined (whatever that means) red marbles.  The Moral: We will not be remembered by
> our words, but by our kind deeds. Life is not measured by
> the breaths we take, but by the moments that take our
> breath..  Today I wish you a day of ordinary miracles ~ A
> fresh pot of coffee you didn't make yourself.  An
> unexpected phone call from an old friend.  Green stoplights
> on your way to work. (Why would I want to get to work faster? I prefer green lights on the way home, thank you!) The fastest line at the grocery store. (Don't want to wait behind all those marble-less people, I guess)
>  A good sing-along song on the radio.  Your keys found right
> where you left them.  Send this to the people you'll
> never forget.  I just Did...  If you don't send it to
> anyone, it means you are in way too much of a hurry to even
> notice the ordinary miracles when they occur. (Nice logic, there) It's no t
> what you gather, but what you scatter that tells what kind
> of life you have lived!
> "

Okay, okay. Thank you for letting me get this off my black and shrivelled heart.

I'd really like to work up one of these that takes the story in a completely different direction. Maybe even end it with "If you don't send it to anyone, it means you have respect for your friends' intelligence and time."

I'm going to go sit in the corner and sulk with a bowl of gruel, snarling at the rats when they approach!

[Darlica]

Lindorm got spam today, from what supposedly should be a young Russian woman wanting to marry him so she could come to Europe (hey I thought Russia, well most of it, was situated in Europe?). All written in the kind of bad English you get when someone is trying too hard.
And he just had to send her money so she could get a visa to Europe (cogh, snarkle, giggle, EU does not have a common visa policy one can't get a visa to Sweden and the go to Germany)...

And it all was completed with a picture of very young, kind of pretty, woman/girl posing like for a model shot... I don't think the girl have any idea that her picture is used for this.

--I think someone has raided one of the railway forums where L is registered for e-mail addresses, thinking that a good portion of the men around there are single, sappy and with a social life which leave a lot to be desired...


And then we have Julia

Julia is someone who call L's number (we both use the number but only L is listed on it) often in the middle of the day and ask for L in a manner that one can believe that they are old friends, and when informed that L is not home at the moment she hangs up quite abruptly...

Now, the first time I spoke to her I thought that it might be someone on L's work or some one who knew him through his union (he used to be a contact person). I shook my head at he bad phone manners and forgot about it...

Then she called again:
-Hi, this is Julia is "Lindorm" home? (said  in the same tone and manner I would use if I was calling one of my long time friends and their SO answerd the phone)
-No his out for the moment, can I take a message?
-Click
-???


She called again a couple of days ago:
-Hi, this is Julia is "Lindorm" home?

-No his at work.

-OK I'll call him later. Click...


This time I remembered to ask L if he knows a Julia at work or through the union, he doesn't and I'm not surprised, I never herd of someone with that name in the circles he moves.

I've told him next time she calls I'm going to give her "don't U mess with ma' husband angry/jealous wife routine, or I'm going to pretend that naturally she must be the young woman who answered our swingers ad about wanting a young nubile playmate...


I sort of look forward to next time she calls.

[Aggie]

Ooh Darlica, the latter, the latter! 
(I have not got the nerve up the yet, but would love to act very 'herbally enebriated' when speaking to a random telemarketer, and when they get into the heart of their pitch say "You guys deliver for free, right maaaan?  Better make that TWO large pepperoni's and one pineapple and sardines... coooool... )

Obviously, most of my friends are black-hearted and cynical, as I don't often get the 'mushy' emails.  I trash them immediately.

The one that drive me up the wall are the 'did you know?' emails chock full of questionable facts.  I would love to start passing some of those around and see how many points make it into common knowledge.  All completely erroneous, of course.

[Darlica]

All right, I'm game, I'll play the "Oh, you're our new slave girl" game, and you do the intoxicated youth act, and then we come back here to report!

I forgot to add that, yes, I'm pretty sure dear Julia is a telemarketer.
It has become something of a trend in the last 6 months to try to sound like you actually know the person you are calling. I've had several calls like that too mostly on my cellphone and some to my mothers place where I'm supposed to be living.

Not so long ago my mum asked me if I knew a Martin, because someone with that name had been calling a lot recently... -Emm no not really, and why would I give someone I know this number when I have a cellphone? Just tell him he got the wrong number and hang up!

[Aggie]

Our standard play at the moment is, "No, he/she is not here right now, can I take a message?" - straight telemarketers never leave a message, and tele-surveyors will usually try to ask when the person in question will be in.  I'll occasionally sit through a customer satisfaction survey from my bank or educational institution, but I prefer to have them call back when I have time to kill.

Will get back to you on the "routine".

[Opsa]

If you really felt EVIL, you could burst into tears and say "No-Lindorm left me and his seven children for some hussy!"
and hang up. 

I know a really sweet guy who actually fell for a email scam. He didn't even know it until he found himself standing in an airport after several hours of waiting with a bouquet of flowers in his hand and several thousand dollars less in his bank account. Poor guy. The saddest thing is, I would consider him a very good catch (good tempered, nice looking, terrific sense of humor , good job), but I guess he didn't think so. It amazes me.

[Griffin NoName]

Can I have his email address?

[Bob in a quantum-state-of-faith]

Way back when I still had a landline (my cell is my main phone now) I had just moved in to a new apartment, new ## and all that.  The owner of the previous number was apparetly quite the ladies man, it seems....

...anyway about a month after my new phone service, at roughly 3:00am, a very irate woman calls asking for some guy (I forget his name-- let's say "George").

In fact, she demanded that I put George on the phone right now, as she knew he was there...

I patently explained there was no George here, and this was my number, now.  She hung up.

A couple of days later, same woman, same insistence that I immediately put George on the line, it was 'Sharnell'.   I explained again, wrong number.  This time she denied it was a wrong number, and cussed me out, and demanded to speak to George.  (poor George...!)  I hung up.

She called right back, but I let the machine get it, and deleted her very long message un-listened to.

A couple days later...same woman.  This time, I happened to be awake instead of sound asleep.... and my evil side immediately took over.

Woman: "I have to talk to George right now!"

Me: "Jus' a minnit.  I'll check...." pause, watching the clock, 1 minute passes with my hand over the phone.

Me:  "He's busy right now.  He and his girlfriend are...well....indisposed, if ya know what I mean...."

Woman:  *click*


End of problem....she never called back... 

And thinking about it, I did George a big favor, too.....!

[pieces o nine]

Great topic!
Where to start...where to start...


1. Ops:
To carry forward Bob's Golem speak a bit, we hates  the glurges, we does, my preciousssssss.
I *immediately* reply "to all" (and with some asperity to people who really should know better)  with a link to the glurge gallery at snopes and urban legend zeitgeist. 


2. Darlica:
I've had those kinds of calls, as well. Some might well be telemarketers, but the ones who sound *very* young, *very* angry and *very* drunk are, I suspect, *not* being paid to harass me. I don't know if these chickies heard/wrote down the number wrong, if Mr. Wrong accidentally gave it to them wrong, or if he just randomly made up a number and it happens to be mine.

a. I've told some that no "X" lives with me as my man wouldn't like it. 
b. I've told others that no "X" lives here as my girlfriend  wouldn't like it.   
c. I bitchily told one extremely persistent girl (e.g.: chronic bar-time phone calls) that "X" loves me  now, because he thinks her ass is fat. 
d. I did not reply, but I saved the text messages from a *very* angry woman in Denver who actually *threatened* me in clear (if badly spelled) details -- from a trackable number -- and told my friends that if anything messy and suspicious happened to me, the cops should check her first. 
e. Mom still gets lots of calls for my dad from telemarketers. She's deliberately kept his name on several things, as her *legitimate* contacts know very well that she is a widow. I've encouraged her to put a stop to repeat calls by bursting into tears and saying that he's dead.  She is afraid this sets her up for identity theft (?!?) but it is working.


3. Agujjim  and Bob:
I've stymied telemarketers for years who stumble on pronunciationing "Mrs. ... [my surname]. Both are dead giveaways that the caller does not know me.
a. I *repeatedly* claim that the number they called is not my number   
After the 3rd or 4th redial, the 40-watt bulb starts to glow and they stop.
b. I announce that I'm just the babysitter (as the oldest child, I was, in fact, "Mrs. [my surname]'s babysitter!) and that they aren't here right now (also true).   


4. Anyone:
How does one stop these @#%@ *automated* calls which aren't deterred by answering machines, hang-ups, and no-call lists? They do not give the name of a business, so they can't be reported. The message usually closes with (2) numbers: one to call to take your name off the list (rings nothing and has no effect) and one to call for more info on the product. Any attempt to get a company name, ask to be taken off the list, or respond with anything *other* than your name and address triggers an abrupt hangup from the live person and an increase in auto-dial calls from them for the next week in punishment.

[Sibling Chatty]

About 4...forward the numbers to the local office of your US Representative and ask them to look into it. (Pretend to be your Mom.)

They LOVES teh old peopleses and will actually do something...generally pass it on to be handled, but it DOES take that particular annoyance down within a couple of months. (Meanwhile 4 or 5 more sprout up.)

[pieces o nine]

Can't. Those particular numbers always show as unlisted or unkown.

Theyr'e really preying on oldsters in this area with that stuff, as well as auto-dial, pre-recorded messages claiming to be from their bank, their insurance company, their auto dealer, etc etc etc. With no trackable number, it's hard to stop them.

[Scriblerus the Philosophe]

That's evil. Very evil. Hope the oldsters are informed it's crap.

I have a special 'crap' file for anything with 'fw:' in the message line (got real tired of hearing about Little Dropsy Joe and his canker-covered puppy).  Anyone else get the "send this to three hundred people you love in ten minutes or you'll die!" spams?
And another for Nigerian scams (The Economist sold my email to random people ).
The latest one in my box:

From Mrs Rebecca Williams
N�[38 Rue Des Martyrs Cocody
Abidjan, Cote d'Ivoire


ATTN:
DEAREST   ONE  OF GOD

I am the above named person from Kuwait . I am married to Mr Benson Williams, who worked with Kuwait embassy in Ivory Coast for nine years before he died in the year 2004. We were married for eleven years without a child. He died after a brief illness that lasted for only four days.

Before his death we were both born again Christian. Since his death I decided not to remarry or get a child outside my matrimonial home which the Bible is against. When my late husband was alive he deposited the sum of $2. 5 Million (Two Million Five Hundred U.S. Dollars) in the bank here in Abidjan in suspense account.

Presently, the fund is still with the bank. Recently, my Doctor told me that i have serious sickness which is cancer problem. The one that disturbs me most is my stroke sickness. Having known my condition I decided to donate this fund to a church or individual that will utilize this money the way I am going to instruct herein. I want a church that will use this fund for orphanages, widows, propagating the word of God and to endeavour that the house of God is maintained.

The Bible made us to understand that blessed is the hand that giveth. I took this decision because I don抰 have any child that will inherit this money and my husband relatives are not Christians and I don抰 want my husband抯 efforts to be used by unbelievers. I don抰 want a situation where this money will be used in an ungodly way. This is why I am taking this decision. I am not afraid of death hence i know where I am going. I know that I am going to be in the bosom of the Lord. Exodus 14 VS 14 says that the Lord will fight my case and I shall hold my peace.

I don抰 need any telephone communication in this regard because of my health hence the presence of my husband抯 relatives is around me always I don't want them to know about this development. With God all things are possible. As soon as I receive your reply I shall give you the contact of the bank here in Abidjan . I want you and the church to always pray for me because the Lord is my shepherd. My happiness is that I lived a life of a worthy Christian. Whoever that wants to serve the Lord must serve him in spirit and Truth. Please always be prayerful all through your life.

Contact me on the above e-mail address for more information抯, any delay in your reply will give me room in sourcing another church or individual for this same purpose. Please assure me that you will act accordingly as I Stated herein. Hoping to receive your
reply.

Remain blessed in the Lord.
Yours in Christ,
Mrs Rebecca Williams.

I love that the signature was in the same character as the ones sprinkled throughout the message.

With telemarketers, I tend to put the phone down and leave. After about ten minutes, I come back and they've hung up. We pretty much don't get calls anymore.

[Sibling Zono (anon1mat0)]

To carry forward Bob's Golem speak a bit, we hates  the glurges, we does, my preciousssssss.
I *immediately* reply "to all" (and with some asperity to people who really should know better)  with a link to the glurge gallery at snopes and urban legend zeitgeist. 

I've tried that but the otherwise intelligent and well intentioned friends keep falling for it. In fact the email account where most of the stuff arrives is reviewed once a month now. Pity when the only contact you have with an old friend is receiving that bullcarp. 

[pieces o nine]

I almost kinda miss all the Nigerian Scam mails I got at an old job...
I always printed them out before deleting and had a fantastic collection. All y'all would not *believe* my total online worth! And the people I know -- hereditary princes, elected politicians, bishops, doctors, CEOs, you name it, I'm their go-to gal, kids!

I noticed that they got distinctly more 'Christian' (thanks, perhaps, to all the well-(or not)-intentioned missionaries and their success there  ) as the months wore on. Those must have been more successful. Ew.  I'd like to think a special circle is being constructed in Hell at this very moment to deal with such conscience-impaired scammers...   But I haven't received a single one since.

[Bob in a quantum-state-of-faith]

I noticed that they got distinctly more 'Christian' (thanks, perhaps, to all the well-(or not)-intentioned missionaries and their success there  ) as the months wore on. Those must have been more successful. Ew.  I'd like to think a special circle is being constructed in Hell at this very moment to deal with such conscience-impaired scammers...   But I haven't received a single one since.

I, personally think it's because fundies are far, far more gullible than ordinary sort of folks.

And fundies just gush over those "christian-ey" letters, don'cha'know.   

I suppose it's a kind of evolution or natural selection process.... would be an interesting study, if you only still had copies.... 

Maybe you could even apply for a nice government grant?