I Ain't Afraid of No Daleks

Whew! The wind just died, and boy, am I ever hot! (Ahem--not in a sexual way.) The trolley bus just went southbound by my flat, so I'm going to book downstairs and catch it coming back north--ICE CREAM!!! A nice small coronet of chocolate-vanilla twist soft ice cream. YUM!!!

It's heading into sunset on Lake George. Just took some pics of the cats--darn, it's hard to get pics of Boots. I've never known a cat to be so camera shy!

So, maybe I can get some pics of the lake/mountains, who knows? Depends on the light, once I get there. Cheers!

Well, I told HIM off, in that last post, didn't I? I'm sure it won't make any difference, trolls are trolls 'cos they lack the immagination and intellect and emotional stability to behave like "normal" people. He won't "get" it.

I'm just fed up with having to delete his crazy crap all the time.

Anyway, it made me feel better. I've been picked on, teased, taunted, been made fun of, hurt, hit and pushed around for the better part of my life. I learned at the age of 15 to push back. I'm not a nice person when I'm pushed too far, and I very much don't like myself when I'm like that--but I hate being pushed even more, so it's the lesser of two evils, I suppose.

I Really don't like having a sharp tongue, that's a side of myself I'd like to be able to bury, someday. But, the mean, nasty, bitter, poorly educated and infantile folks in America outnumber the nice, polite, open-minded, mature and sensible folks, I'm afraid.

It's a lovely evening here. The clouds have cleared and the sun's shining. There's a nice breeze. I'm heading into a four-day mini-break...which I need after the grueling week I've had. Had to go in and take a test about the debt collection laws in the USA (a bit more pro-consumer here, than in the UK, from what I've been told).

I will say, if I ever do get evicted, better here than in the UK. In the UK, the landlord can take your stuff, send in the bailiff's, etc. Here--no way. A landlord cannot enter a tenant's flat without giving 24 hours notice. Also, a landlord may not remove a tenant's belongings, as long as the tenant occupied the residence--even if the tenant hasn't paid the rent.

A landlord cannot, by NY state law, lock you out of your flat. Never.

If the landlord goes into your apartment (for a non-emergency reason) while you are away or without your permission, if a landlord removes any of your belongings while you are livig there, if a landlord locks you out of your flat---the landlord can be arrested and fined.

The landlord--by New York state law, must give a tenant--depending on the rental agreement or lease--2 weeks to 30 day's notice. Also, a landlord--where a lease is involved, cannot just say "get out." Technically, the landlord has to get a court order to evict a tenant.

But, the British have protections as far as banks and creditors, that we do not, so I suppose it all evens out in the end.

Here, if you are evicted, chances are, unless you have kids, you will have a good 1 to 6 year wait for permanent housing. You may or may not be eligible for housing in a welfare motel, you may be able to find a room somewhere, for $200 a week, if you're lucky. 40\60 chance, you'll end up on the streets.

The problem with being in debt--and poor...or, even semi-poor, as I am now, living on about 1100 a month, instead of the 600 or 700 I used to have to get by on, three years ago--the problem is, once you get down...getting up again, can be almost impossible. Every time you start to see the light at the end of the tunnel, someone or something else comes along, and blocks it, again.

It's a hopeless situation...which is why I loathe the "h" word (hope). Which is why I don't dream or think about the future, any longer. Which is why I give up and accept things, a lot easier than I used to.

I'm in a trap that only death will set me free from. That's something I'm all too painfully aware of. All I do to cope is just wake up every day, put one foot in front of the other, and just try to get by as best I can. That's all I have left inside me, to do.

This infantile Yank is one of my blog trolls.

I keep telling him to bug off, I've told him TWICE that I am rejecting his comments and they are going unread--but, typical of the intellectually lazy or emotionally delusional, he's not gotten the message or is chosing to ignore it.

So, just because I can, and I have some time to pass while I wait for my chicken to cook, I thought I'd analyize this fella' from Pennsylvania:

I picture him as white, proletarian bourgeois, maybe a bit overweight, maybe his dad worked in a factory or mill. This guy probably isn't working at the moment. I suspect that he has never used his spare time to go out and get a hobby, or learn something new, or help someone else besides himself--or if he does anything charitable, it's for all the wrong reasons: showing off to the neighbours, or because it's "trendy." He definately wouldn't go back to college as an adult student, nor would he be the type take any adult continuing education "hobby" courses, like learning photoshop or painting in oils, horticulture, etc. In fact, I'd say he's probably a little intimidated by the thought of learning/education.

His life is in a tailspin. He's lost a lot of money--or never had much to begin with. He's not handling the crisis very well. He's emotionally ill, and seriously in need of councilling. But, like too many emotionally unstable conservative people, he doesn't have any self-awareness of this, and geniunely thinks his behaviour is completely mature and "normal."

His life isn't going well. He's a born again Christian, who is against killing unborn babies, but loves guns, and was 100% for a war which has butchered over 100,000 civilians--many of them under the age of 21.

He likes to drink--possibly is alcoholic, thinks Fox News is the best media outlet on the planet, doesn't read much--if at all, doesn't ask questions, and is against higher education, if it's taught by "liberals," doesn't have the slightest clue what "socialism" actually means--and wouldn't try to learn, even if God came down and told him to.

Yup, that's the picture this troll has given me, of himself.

I once called this jerk "tin-foil hat man," because--well, he's a bonified nutjob, what else do you call these freaks? Anyway, in a true act of sheer idiocy, he latched on to this insult and made it his own....what kind of weirdo is proud of an insult...well, really, does that sound "normal" to you?

This bloke visits me semi-regularly. I don't read his crap comments, I just go to the comment queue and hit the reject button. I've told him as much, twice now. But, obviously this bloke is either ten different kinds of stupid, or really is completely bonkers.

Well, idiot-boy has hit me again, tonight. He leaves 4 or 5 comments in a row--half the time they have little to do with the post.

Not all of his comments in the past were childish and/or sarcastic, some used to be nice--which is even weirder-- cos' I haven't held back from this jerk that I think he's a complete arsehole.

But hey, I'll let you be the judge. I've seriously not read these posts--comments, not even for posting to this blog. I don't know what they say, and I genuinely could care less. I would rather read the comments of the people who count: my friends and other bloggers who actually have something kind, or thoughtful, or funny, to say. This berk says nothing. He's a zero. Life's too short to spend on zeros.

Here's his crazy-shite comments:

joblair2@verizon.net
Author: Tin Foil Hat Conservative (IP: 98.114.230.152, pool-98-114-230-152.phlapa.fios.verizon.net)
Email: joblair2@verizon.net
Url: http://makeitso57.com

Comment: Luv, Ice Cream is bad for you so your lovely democrats must tax you for your own good. You should be gratefull that the democrats are looking out for you and helping you to make wise food choices. You need to be more sensative to other cultures and remember that we're all immigrants to this nation. We shouldn't pretend our cultural conditioning is any more valid than others for whom Ice Cream is a committee decistion.

Again, I didn't bother to read this. I don't know what kind of crap he's vomiting this time. I'm sure it has very little to do with the actual gist and meaning of the post.

This was a reply to my remark on my thoughts on the racist butchering of a black man in Texas by dragging the guy 70 feet until the body was dismembered...like the chaining and dragging of a black man in Texas 10 years ago. I said in the post that I found Texas (And American racists) to be a massive embarrassment to human kind:

Comment: My Dear Playwrite, Any comments on the honor killings going on in the London Muslim community or the adoption of Sharia Law in elements of the UK?

Tin Foil: if you are reading this. Get the HINT. I don't like you. I don't care about you. You are everything I hate about my country. You are why this country is turning into raw sewage, not the government. You are a traitor. You want no government. The Taliban and North Korea would LOVE that. You think anyone who genuinely cares about their fellow Americans--and about human life, is a "socialist." You are a thoughtless, commpassionless selfish shallow twit. Stop swimming in our gene pool, please wear a condom.

I have no desire to ever be your friend. And, I am NOT a four-legged animal with antlers, so STOP calling me, "dear," using an intimate form of address with a lady you do not know--and who clearly dislikes you, is very ill-mannered...and sounds swarmy, adolecent and immasculating, as well.

Mail's in: Oh gee, look at that, Glens Falls Hospital has sic'd its debt collection solicitors on me, for $51 and change.

Well, the bill's in the pile...with my other unpaid medical bills, about 2 dozen of them--I get a new one, every week it seems--ranging in cost from $21 to $1000+ I pay one when I can, usually about one or two a month, if I've the cash to spare and/or no other more pressing bills, or, whenever I can.

But jeez--they've yet to sic the lawyers on me for the $1000+ bill from 200i7, but a $53 bill from five months ago, they spend the money on? No wonder they're in financial straights! I mean, it's got to be costing them more to hire a debt collector for $53, than just waiting for me to get around to paying it--or even eating it, if necessary (which I don't want them to do, but then, I don't want to lie awake at night worrying about feeding myself or paying the electric/gas bill, either).

A friend, bless, has sent me a wee kit of herbal ointments and other nice things to slather myself with, isn't that lovely?

Well, one more day of work, and then I essentially get a mini-holiday break, for four days. Unfortunately, it's supposed to be teaming down with rain, at least part of that time. We're not having a summer this year, apparently. It was supposed to get hot today, but it's actually overcast and chilly, at 20 min. before noon, here.

Well, I've no plans for the break, other than a bit of postponed spring cleaning, I suppose. Might go for a swim in the lake, should the weather decide to cooperate. I toyed with the idea of going on a cruise on the lake on one of the boats, but decided against it. I've got the whole of August yet, before the Trolley bus stops its regular run to the lake...and, I'm reluctant to spend the money on something frivilous--I went riding two week's ago, that was my big "treat" for myself, this summer.

And, I've my new Ariat hiking/paddock boot that was on sale for half-off, on layway at the Queensbury Tractor Supply Co. Yup, playwrite27 desperately needed new walking shoes, and with a $20 payment in August, and another $20 payment in Sept., they'll be all mine!

Jeez. Living in a tourist area can be a real larf. I take the trolley up to the resort of Lake George, just so I can point and laugh...well, and for the soft ice cream from the "Pink Roof" stand across from the steamboat company's pier.

Why is it, that these gaggles of foreign tourists from India, Pakistan, Puero Rico, Quebec, Japan or wherever, will bunch in front of the ice cream stand's windows, like cabbages in a market stall, discussing what to order for 10 minutes...then finally get up to the window, and seemingly forget what the hell they wanted to order?

I swear, it happens every time. I get so relieved when I get behind an American in the queue, because they just blinking place their order, pay for their order and get on with it. No fuss, no muss, no bother.

The foreign tourists--every single blinking time---spend 10 minutes deciding what to get, then, they get up to the stinking order window...and suddenly decide to play twenty questions with the ice cream employee! Then, when they FINALLY decide what to order, they sit there arguing over who is going to PAY for it, then, when they finally get their ice creams, they stand there for another five minutes, doling it out to everyone--all the while completely oblivious to the fact that the queue behind them, which was two or three deep before, is now twenty deep, thanks to all their farting around.

Then, there's the people who want to go for a trolley bus ride--not at all getting the fact that it IS an acutal municipal public transit bus, and not a blinking amusement park ride. Again, the tourons will stand there, holding up the bus, while debating whether or not to go for a ride...or, asking the driver to wait while elderly aunt Martha comes trundling up the boardwalk, so they can all ride together.

There's a sign on the front window, with the final destination: Glens Falls, the caravan park, Bolton Landing North. Every time they hold up the bus, while they ask: "where you go?" Most of them literally don't know north from south or east from west. On a blinking sunny day, unless it's high noon, all you need to stinking do, is look at the sun's direction, numbnuts.

What gets me is, the only way to get to Lake George (by direct route) is directly north or south, via either the I-87 motorway, or via an A-type road, known as Route 9. Period. There roads east and west, but they aren't straight-line direct, like these two routes. So--you got here, either via the north or the south, there's only ONE main road in the whole entire resort (north-south)...you had to use that road to get there--how the hell could you not know where you blinking are????

And, once these tourists get on the Glens Falls trolley, they seem genuinely shocked that there's a city/thriving suburb within six miles of the mountains!

I get on the trolley bus to/from Lake George, and the tourons going for "a ride" (on a red trolley bus with THE most uncomfortable wooden park bench seating on the planet), will forsake a ride in the mountains to come down to the suburbs/city...every time the bus goes trundling past the Walmart(aka: Asda), there's always some foreigner or pensioner who'll go, "Oh look! They have a Walmart here!"

Yeah, and we even have indoor plumbing, too.

Playwrite27 bids all my online pals a very good night. I'm knackered from working double shift, and, I seem to have a wee cold, today, so I'm feeling doubly rubbish this evening. I am sorely tempted to stay up and write, as I have a few ideas I'd like to work out on the blank page...but, seeing as I ache all over, have a blistering headache, and am so tired, I can barely hold my head up, I think bed is beckoning me.

So, had a quick meal of curried rice and sausage with some steamed cauliflower, and now it's off for a hot shower and bed--even 'tho it's not even 10.00 at night, here.

Training isn't going well for me. I'm not the smartest person in the world--well, let's not sugarcoat it; I'm a tad slow. I can learn just fine--slowly. I am not the time that can absorb a rapid-fire, "do this, this and this, but not this, oh, and by the way, don't forget to wiggle the wotsit and burble the bealy and just for good measure, smurge the blippty-blip."

Well, that's how it sounds to me, after 8 hours. I hate computer stuff, with a passion. I am no more a techno-geek than a techno-geek is a tree-hugging transcendentalist. That's why I'm not a copy editor or even a receptionist. I can use computer--but only just, and only after lengthy repetition.

My stinking wonky brain doesn't allow me to multi-task very well--I mean, I can't hardly talk and type at the same time! We have all these do-this-and-do-that, and all these terms and codes and proceedures to memorize...basically, my arsehole company has once again skimped on the job training--literally 2 week's full training, crammed into 2 days--and half the first day spent doing NOTHING, cos' of a technical glitch that wouldn't allow them to run one of their vital training programmes. Computers/technology, and dyscalculia don't always go well together, let me tell you!

The only easy part is the script. But then I can memorize a phone script pretty well, after saying it a half-dozen or dozen times, that's no worry. But, remember what numbers to put in, what screen to access, what to write, what order to do things in...it's done my head in, it has. I genuinely feel wrung out and frustrated and...stupid. I hate feeling stupid--to me, it's one of the worst feelings in the world.

My dad used to call me stupid, once in a rare while, when I was in elementary school and couldn't do the maths homework...and one of my maths teachers, and some of the kids at school. When I say I hate feeling stupid, I'm not exagerating. It intimidates the hell out of me. With confidence, I can move the world, when I absolutely know what I'm doing, I just go out and do it, and do it to the best of my ability... but when I feel stupid, I alternate between feeling angry with myself/the world, and wanting to just crawl under a rock, and stay there.

We go "live" on the calls tomorrow, using the scripts and contacting people. It's not sales, which appealed to me a great deal, as I loathe selling. I suck at it, actually. Oh, I make sales, but not as many as a lot of the other reps. I was thinking of spending one of my days off, going 'round putting my job application in, at a few places. Maybe tractor supply company is hiring. I know a bit about large and small animals, tho' I'm not farmer, of course, and I've run heavy equipment, when I was in my early 30's.

Off to bed now, before my head bursts--would get rather messy, that. Cheers.