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‘Spam in the place where I live … ‘ *

June 13, 2013 by Beth

Dear Spammers:

Thank you so much for sending your robots my way. Allow me to respond to a few of your recent (attempted) posts:

 

 

Screen shot Thank you for that interesting bit of trivia featuring an artist I care nothing about. Did you know that she also is the solo artist with the most No. 1 hits? Fascinating. I’m not sure what she has to do with art, except that she is indeed some piece of work. Is this comment an exercise in the improvisation you seem to support? If so, perhaps you could work on that skill. Improvisation requires some cohesion.

 

Screen shot I appreciate you taking an interest in my blog. Allow me to return the favor of assistance: You need to proofread or ask someone to help you. That “O . k” really bothers me. Also, you need to learn the difference between “advise” and “advice.” (Here’s a hint: One is a verb and one is a noun.) And the traditional idiom is “change my mind.”

 

Screen shot I’ve never even seen the first “Tron” (I know, I know) so thanks for the heads-up about the soundtrack. By “board,” do you mean “mixing board”or are you talking about baseboards? If it’s baseboards, you don’t have to tell me: We have quite the issue in our bathroom. The prior owner didn’t know how to use caulk, so that room is a mess.

 

Screen shot Thank you so much for the compliment! I also think my blog should be shared across the Internet. And yes, shame on Google for not doing whatever it is you think it should have done. (Did you perhaps mean “post higher” instead of “publish upper” in that sentence? It’s not clear.) I have other questions, too: What is it that you want to discuss? Are we going to chat about Google rankings? Or something else? I assume you mean you want to speak with me one-on-one. It would be hard for me to talk with your site.

Thanks again, Spammers! There’s some great stuff here.

Beth

* Thank you, Weird Al, for “Spam” based on “Stand.”

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Field Day (i.e., A Date with Satan)

May 31, 2013 by Beth

Dear Teachers:

I admire you and appreciate you every single day. It takes a certain day of the year, though, to really remind me that your selfless, barely-paid work keeps me and moms like me out of straightjackets.

That day is Field Day.*

As soon as I set up shop in the Sack Race/Tug of War tent, I remembered that I vowed last year that I would never volunteer again.

Field Day must be like childbirth where you forget the pain and screaming until you are back at it. That’s the only excuse I have for volunteering again. I just forgot that it was akin to Lower Hell, otherwise known as the City of Dis, where active sins are punished.

Field Day at my children's school

Field Day at my children’s school

I took the morning off from work, thinking, “How bad could it be?”

It was bad.

So bad.

I’m not sure when I lost my will to live. It could have been after I told Ashton No. 14 to stop picking his nose (or that might have been Connor No. 12 or Jaden No. 9).

It could have been after I plucked fragments of the Tug of War rope out of my bloodied hands after telling the sixth group of jackals children to “Stop pulling! This side has already won!”

It could have been after my youngest child earned the Academy Award for Best Actor in a Leading Role for his performance as Tug of War Pileup Casualty.

I know this for sure: As my undercarriage area started steaming, I thought, “Never again.”

My husband made the mistake of calling me in the middle of this. I verbally assaulted him. He may have already consulted an attorney.

The outer ring of the seventh circle of Hell (ie. violence against people and property) nearly welcomed me when I took a break to go inside to get water. A number of women were sitting in chairs in the air-conditioned snack room — their assigned volunteer spots — chatting about shopping. Their hair was still styled, clothes clean and dry, foreheads unsheened. I regarded them through rage-clouded eyes and restrained my fists of fury.

Back outside with a warm, begrudgingly offered bottle of water, I slogged through what seemed like 4,000 more sack races and rope battles. Time stood still.

Sack Race No. 2,147

Sack Race No. 2,147

After the last group of the morning had shoved and cried their way through the two “games,” it was time for lunch. My oldest child, who suddenly looked so much taller than he had that morning, asked me if I would eat lunch with him in his classroom. He took me by the hand and said, “I love you, Mama.”

And I remembered why I volunteered.

See you next year!
Beth

* A day that consists of trying to corral children into teams to compete in games that are supposed to be fun. These games devolve into pushing matches, crying jags, and squeals of “he’s cheating!” And that’s just the parents. (I’m kidding. It was just me.)

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Mawage, that bwessed awangement

May 16, 2013 by Beth

Photo courtesy of Shane Marshall Brown

Photo courtesy of Shane Marshall Brown

Dear Shane and Jason:

Thank you so much for inviting me to your wedding. I haven’t cried at a wedding in years, but I cried at yours. Seeing wuv, true wuv made me emotional! Not that straight people don’t have true love too, but they don’t have problems making it legally binding.

(You obviously know how I feel about same-sex marriage, so I don’t need to go into great detail here.)

I just think if people could see what I saw, then there wouldn’t be any opposition. Love is love. Shane, look at your sweet face in this photo!

945154_10101436977751987_279929453_n

I feel honored that I could be a part of your special day, meet a whole passel of fun, self-proclaimed “theater gays,” and witness something truly wonderful. It even offered a teaching moment for my boys.

Dominic: “Why are you packing?”
Me: “Remember I’m going to my friends’ wedding?”
Dominic: “Oh right. Which friends?”
Me: “Shane and Jason.”
Dominic (looking at me for a beat): “Is Shane the girl?”
Me: “No.”
Dominic: “Jason’s the girl?”
Me: “No.”
Dominic: “They’re both boys?”
Me: “Yes.”
Dominic: “They’re gay?”
Me: “Yes.”
Dominic: “Gay people can get married?”

Yes, Dominic. They can in some places, and they should in more.

Do I love you because you’re beautiful, or are you beautiful because I love you? (from “Cinderella,” Rodgers and Hammerstein)

I think you two are beautiful. Thank you for letting me share in your big moment.

Love,
Beth

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Tragicomedy in Carolina

May 7, 2013 by Beth

Dear Friends in South Carolina:

I need you to explain something to me. How is it possible that Mark Sanford is a viable candidate for the 1st Congressional District seat vacated by Rep. Tim Scott? I realize that this district skews Republican. I get it. But even Republicans can’t possibly want to vote for THIS Republican.

Let’s recap his behavior as S.C. governor in June 2009:

Sanford and his lady love

Sanford and his lady love

His wife, Jenny, divorced him. Smart lady.

Even people in his own party called him out.

Irrational behavior. Lies, lies, lies. (Sen. Jake Knotts)

Yet S.C. voters haven’t kicked him to the curb. In fact, polls indicate that he and his Democratic rival, Elizabeth Colbert Busch, are neck and neck.

Elizabeth Colbert Busch

Yes, she’s a Democrat asking for a traditionally Republican seat. Yes, she’s the sister of Stephen Colbert, which works against her in some circles. But COME ON!

You’re going to believe THIS guy when he starts talking about ethics and values?

I believe in second chances, but this is ridiculous.

So I ask you, my friends: How is Sanford a viable candidate? Please tell me the polls just made the race look close. Please tell me he won’t win the special election today. Please.

Hello?

Sigh.
Beth

*UPDATE: He freakin’ won!

Posted in Politics | Tagged , , , , | 2 Comments »

Bear this in mind

April 30, 2013 by Beth

Rainbow Inn

Dear Ladies of 703,

Well, here it is: the update on my stay at the Rainbow Inn.

When I first saw it, I wanted to abort the mission and race back down the mountain to find a Hilton. But that’s a little daunting when your GPS looks like this:

GPS

Also, I had already paid. Plus, as I am always telling you all, unusual experiences make great stories. This was bound to be an interesting experience, as this is what greeted me when I parked:

Rainbow bear

As I walked up the path, another creature greeted me. This one said his name was Alan and he had just spent 11 days in a tent. He was looking for a room for the night, but no one was inside. Instead, there was a note on the door.

Note

A note on the open door! This ain’t no Hilton.

No, this is a throwback to a different time where the words “rainbow” and “bear” didn’t automatically lead to assumptions.

This is a place where the aforementioned Alan can wander into the guest lounge in his bathrobe, sit down next to you on the couch for a chat, and it doesn’t seem like an advance from a creep.

This is a bed and breakfast where Windean will make you a to-go breakfast burrito if you can’t make the sit-down at 9 a.m. She’ll even make sure you know it’s yours by sticking a cute tag on it:

Burrito note

This is a place where you get to “town” by hopping from rock to rock to cross a creek.

This is a place where you abandon your preconceived notions and go with the flow.

I was glad I did.

See you Wednesday!
Beth

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A post about an email that is a ‘rough f—— ride’

April 25, 2013 by Beth

Rebecca Martinson

Dear Rebecca Martinson,

I read today that you resigned from Delta Gamma after the email you wrote when you were (ahem) upset went viral.

Your sisters at University of Maryland had this to say in a collective statement on the chapter’s Facebook page:

This is a regrettable action by a college junior, a personal email that is now on view for a global audience.

And as all reasonable people can agree, this is an email that should never have been sent by its author. Period.

Yeah, maybe. But it truly was a work of genius. You said, in a diatribe that involved (by my count) 63 expletives and insults, what you honestly thought about the women in Delta Gamma who were not contributing to the events planned by the sorority.

Yeah, maybe you should have said all these things at a chapter meeting instead of writing them down.

Still, you said what needed to be said. Those of us who are overachievers and commit to something are constantly irritated by the folks who half-ass their way through life. We’ve written that same email in our heads, but perhaps without your elegance (and ability to boot an awesome phrase into the public lexicon).

It’s not really fair to call you “deranged” or “rabid.” You were just pissed, and for what seems like good reason.

Don’t even get me started on people using your letter as an excuse to bash sororities. That’s like scapegoating a faith because of a couple of crazies. Oh wait …

(Full disclosure: I was — am — a Chi Omega. I learned time management skills, made lifelong friends, and even got a great job in part because one of the women interviewing me also was a Chi O.)

It’s probably smart that you resigned and are now lying low until some other scandal catches attention. I don’t know what you are majoring in at University of Maryland, but I hope it is something to do with writing. (I’m guessing it’s probably not PR, though). You definitely have talent.

Wishing you the best,
Beth

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Proof of a gay agenda: blog infiltration

April 5, 2013 by Beth

Explanation of this post: Sometimes there’s only so much a straight girl can say in support of The Gays (and I promise this is the last post this week about this topic). Luckily, Chris, a friend of mine who happens to be gay, allowed me to share this letter he recently sent to an old high school “friend” who sent him a Facebook inbox message to tell him he couldn’t send him a friend request. Yes, you read that right.

http://www.someecards.com/confession-cards/gay-marriage-protest-straight-supreme-court-funny-ecard

Dear XXXXXXX,

Thanks for your message. I’m sorry that I don’t share your sadness about not being able to send me a friend request due to your concerns about my “immortal soul.” I would like, however, to point out that I’ve been doing just fine without your “friendship” for the past 30 years since graduation. And as I recall, I did fine without it then too. Unless of course you consider knowing each other’s names as “friendship.” Please don’t feel obligated to “pray for me.” Your prayers would be better used asking whomever you pray to for more important things, such as some intelligence, fashion advice or at the very least, the willpower to lose some weight.

Although we won’t be reminiscing about past good times together (we had none) or talking about my family (I’d be embarrassed for them to know you) or even discussing current events (you’ve obviously failed to grow up and are emotionally stunted so I’m sure holding an adult conversation would be challenging for you), I’m sure this will leave more time for your obvious other interests of attending Klan rallies, making love to farm animals, and looking up Bible verses to include in messages. (FYI, “Leviticus” is spelled the way I typed it; there’s no “a.”)

So take care. No need to write back. (It just takes too long for me to translate your misspellings, typos and grammatical errors.) I wish you the best (and by that I mean that you can kiss the darkest part of my ass).

My best to your fat wife (let her know those roots could use a touch up) and if they can stand to touch you, hug your kids for me.

Chris 🙂

Posted in Politics | Tagged , | 4 Comments »

Stuck on Sue

April 3, 2013 by Beth

Dear Readers:

I realized that I was a little too earnest in yesterday’s post. Ludicrous comments call for ludicrous responses though. Below is what I should have posted.

Enjoy!
Beth

Imaginary letters to Sue Everhart after her comments to the Marietta Daily Journal:

Fake letter to Sue Everhart

Fake letter to Sue Everhart

Fake letter to Sue Everhart

Fake letter to Sue Everhart

* An accident like this one

* Sound familiar?

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A joy named Sue

April 2, 2013 by Beth

Sue Everhart

Dear Sue Everhart:

Congratulations for putting the Peach State in the headlines! Of course, it is for all the wrong reasons. Your comments to the Marietta Daily Journal reinforce the all-too-common notion that the South is full of bigoted idiots.

Remember that Mark Twain quote about being stupid? Let me refresh your memory:

It is better to keep your mouth closed and let people think you are a fool than to open it and remove all doubt.

Let’s recap your concerns about legalizing same-sex marriage:

  1. Straight people will pose as gay to reap benefits.
  2. Gay people don’t have the proper “equipment” to have sex.
  3. Gay parents influence their children’s sexual orientation.

Oh wow. Really, Sue? Really?

For once, I am speechless. I’m so shocked that someone would actually believe these things, let alone say them to a reporter. I don’t even know where to begin.

You start your diatribe by stating, “I’m going to get in trouble over this …”

Yes, Sue, you are. At least, I hope so. I hope there are enough rational people in Georgia and the nation to educate you on the subject of what gay people do and don’t do, can and can’t do, will and won’t do (as if “they” are any different from everyone else). But will you listen?

Georgia Trend named you one of the 100 Most Influential Georgians (2008, 2011, 2012), so you are used to people listening to you. How I hope this trend won’t continue.

At the very least, you may have to check in with your constituents before the next election. The tide is turning against haters like yourself.

Remember what you said after the November 2012 election?

image

“By the people, of the people and for the people” includes gay people too, as inconvenient as that is for you.

Or maybe this was just a poor attempt at an April Fools’ Day joke. Right, Sue?

Sue?

Sigh.
Beth

Posted in Politics | Tagged , , , , | 2 Comments »

This Easter morning blows

March 31, 2013 by Beth

Leaf blower jerk

Dear Jackass with a Leaf Blower:

I’m sure you thought you were being efficient by clearing the way for Easter sunrise service attendees.

Sunrise means dawn, though. And the beach is a popular vacation spot. People on vacation like to sleep. Often, they choose the beach so that they can be lulled by the gentle sound of the ocean.
Leaf blowers are not a gentle sound. At 5:19 a.m., they are not a welcome addition to a beach vacation.

What were you blowing, anyway? Tybee isn’t exactly New England in the fall, sporting a lush carpet of leaves.

Were you blowing sand? Why? People coming to a sunrise service at the pier have to accept a little sand. It is the beach, for crying out loud.

If I see you again, I’m going to use your leaf blower for another purpose. (Let me give you a hint: Your next colonoscopy will be easy breezy.)

I want you and your obnoxious friends — you know, the car alarm, barking dog and loud, drunk girl — to get off the island.

Thank you.

Sincerely,
Beth
Tybee

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