Caterwauling

In this fabulous article on “When FEMA Met Katrina,” this gem caught my eye:

“(Michael Brown) does, however, cite among his exaggerated emergency preparedness credentials a stretch as assistant city manager in Edmond, Okla. His actual job was assistant to the city manager.” Editor’s note: Emphasis mine.

Fans of the American version of “The Office” might remember Dwight Schrute, the assistant to the company manager who tells everyone that he’s the assistant manager.

Perhaps Mr. Brown resigned because he was under the weather with a case of Count Choculitis. That, and he’s probably had to enter Witness Protection, although he does have a future on Season 2 of this beloved show. 😉

A conversation I had yesterday:

Friend: We just got our son circumcized. Poor little guy — he was NOT a happy camper.

Moi: Think of it this way: Some woman is going to be very grateful to you someday for that!

I just canceled my Bally’s membership (I think three years of paying nearly $50 a month and not USING it qualifies as a good enough reason) and immediately signed up for Netflix (as it took me three years to hook up my f’in DVD player).

This should lead you to (accurately) conclude that

1. I am a blonde (well, a brunette/redhead, but with an Inner Blonde).

2. I am a lazy ass.

3. I will continue spending more time on the couch, but it will cost me a lot less and therefore I will not have the guilt of, “I should be using that gym membership.”

Oh, and FUCK BALLY’s. I e-mailed them two months ago to say please don’t renew my membership. So I got a letter this week to thank me for renewing and my debit card will be dinged again in a week. The HELL?!?!

Phone Monkey: How can I help you?

Moi: Hi, I just got a letter saying my membership was renewed. Two months ago, I e-mailed customer service to ask to let the membership expire at the three-year period. Please discontinue my membership immediately.

Phone Monkey: Is your address still (blah blah blah) Alexandria?

Moi: That P.O. Box is still valid, and that’s where I got this letter. (Editor’s note: Here’s your sign!). I don’t live in the area anymore, if that’s what you’re asking.

Phone Monkey: So why do you need to cancel?

Moi: As I mentioned, I do not live anywhere near the club anymore (Editor’s note: I live right behind it. Why do these reps have the need to look up my ass and see what I had for dinner?) and, well, DON’T use the membership because I cannot GET to the club.

Phone Monkey: Well, if you’re not currently using the membership, I can put it on hold and charge you $4 a month till you come back to it.

Moi: No. I want out of this membership, please.

Phone Monkey: (long pause) Are you sure it’s a good idea to cancel? Because then you’d have to pay $50 to reinstate your membership when you come back around.

Moi: I just told you that I can’t get to the club. Why should I pay for the privilege of someday maybe making the drive to a club I never went to when I lived there?

Phone Monkey: You have a nice day.

Thanks for reminding me why I quit going in the first place (not to mention the rude personal trainer who insulted me liberally).

I’d rather pleasure myself with a chainsaw than pay them another dime.

On iTunes: Goldfrapp, “Tiptoe”