Dealing with idiots.

 

Just indulge me for a minute and read this,  and then put your pencils down.  Oh,  and I may have to add a comment here and there if that’s OK with you. 

 

SIOUX FALLS, S.D. - A prison inmate is suing the hospital where he was circumcised as a newborn, saying he only recently became aware (so what?  he forgot to take a look at the thing?) that he'd undergone the procedure and that it robbed him of his sexual prowess.  (*snort* So we can measure that too,  can we?)

Dean Cochrun, (“Cochrun”?,  seriously??)  28, is asking for $1,000 in compensatory and punitive damages. He also asks in the lawsuit that his foreskin be restored "in the hopes I could feel whole again," (just a minute there,  while I get out a tissue) though he acknowledged that he didn't expect such a restoration to be anything more than aesthetic.

Cochrun, (heeheee) who is imprisoned on a kidnapping conviction, filed the federal lawsuit Friday against Sanford Hospital. Cochrun (oh stop it!!) claims that an "unknown doctor" misled his mother to believe that the procedure was medically necessary. Cochrun (please!  seriously,  I’m busting a gut here!)  argues that the procedure was unnecessary, unethical and without medical benefit.

"I was recently made aware of the fact that I had been (circumcised) and that ... I was robbed of sensitivity during sexual intercourse as well as the sense of security and well-being I am entitled to in my person," he argued in the lawsuit, adding that neither he nor his partners would "have that sensitivity during sexual intercourse and have a normal sex life."  (OK, he’s in prison. I got no words.)

Cochrun isn't represented by a lawyer in the lawsuit, (well,  that’s a relief.  I’m suddenly feeling better about lawyers.)  which includes a letter from Sanford officials responding to a letter requesting that his foreskin be replaced. Patient relations representative DyAnn Smith replied that Sanford would not pay for the procedure.

"There will be no further correspondence about this matter," she wrote.

*******

 

 

*phew*.  It’s not even the first of April.  That wasn’t actually what today’s missive was going to touch on,  but I couldn’t help myself.  We’re working up a theme.

First of all,  I have to hand it to the guy.  I mean, if you’re going to come up with some crazy-assed loopy lawsuit,  it may as well be about losing part of your pecker.  I mean, that chick who spilled coffee on herself made out OK.    Besides,   he’s only asking for a thousand.   Oh,  and part of his pecker back.

I think there might be a *slight* complication though?  I’d hazard a guess that when the original doctor did the snippety do da,  that keeping that little bit of skin preserved somehow for future consideration wasn’t really part of the procedure.   I’m not sure what they do with all those little foreskins,  and I just now started doing a search on that very topic,  and I had to stop before I got a definitive answer. (*head spinning*)  He never offered whether or not he was Jewish,  but either way,  I don’t think anyone had the forethought to set it aside?

Waka waka.

(I’m here all afternoon,  be sure and tip your server.)

Ooh, *ouch*,  did I just say,  “tip”?  Gah!

 

So,  what does he think they’re going to do?  Or, would have done? Remove part of his lower lip and attach it to his manhood?  Well now there’s an idea,  maybe they could do both top and bottom lips?   Yet another definition of “self serve”?

I can’t even put that in print. We’re going down hill fast here kids,  let’s not even go there.

I’ll just let you use your imagination.

 

*******

 

 

OK,  let’s get back to reality here,  and the idiots that we *know*.

Going back to August,  the “Landlords”  have been pissing around with setting up some sort of visit to check up on the condition of the “roof extension”,   which is the term used by one of their representatives.

Originally I got a note from someone back then (in August),   to which I replied that,  at the time we were in fact in Canada,  and that a week’s notice for such a thing was a bit of a waste of everyone’s time.  These people are Austrians,  don’t they know everyone is on vacation?

So that one was cancelled.  My fault.  Sorry.  Didn’t realise I couldn’t leave the country.

Then there’s a note asking about some time in December.  The previous notes had been in German.  After this,  they decide to switch to English,  or some semblance thereof.  Whatever.  

the construction management and we, the property administration, would like to take a look at the roof extension and also your apartment to check how it looks and if everything’s ok after 2,5 years.

Is it possible for you to be at home on Mittwoch, 14.12. , 8-9 a.m.?

Thanks a lot!

Mit freundlichen Grüßen

 

 

Anyway,  I’m going to try and cut to the chase here,  and suffice to say that, after a couple more back and forths,  a time was set up for some time between 11:00 and 2:00 p.m. for April the 17th.   Yesterday.

Oh,  and I should mention that,  I had asked this fellow just who exactly are these people that I’m going to be expecting?   He didn’t reply.

 

The peculiar thing is,  last week (Tuesday,  at that magic time)  somebody shows up at the door,  says they’re representing the Landlord,  he comes in and heads up to the terrace upstairs,   checks a couple things, writes something on the form on his clipboard,  and off he goes.  

Naturally I just figured I had written the wrong date on the calendar,  since that would be entirely possible,  and shot off a note to the Dude from the Landlord office mentioning the fact that there had been someone here a week early.

To make things even more interesting,  Travelling Companion has set up an appointment with the BMW dealer here in town for an oil change for yesterday morning!   It’s not like I have a full schedule or anything,  so it could have been any other day except that one,  but those plans had been made,  and I wasn’t too sure how I was going to be in two places at once.

 

Landlord Dude shoots a note back saying he’s not sure who was there that morning,  and we’re still on for next week.

Here’s the note I sent back.

 

Well,  I'm really not sure who it was this morning either.  He didn't leave a card. And you hadn't told me whom I was supposed to be expecting anyway,  so there was certainly no way to check that.
He just said he had something to do with *your company*,  came in,  went up on the Terrace,  had a look in a couple of the clean outs for the chimneys,  and that was it.
Maybe check with the firm that's supposedly coming next week?   I'm certainly not going to cancel the oil change and then have nobody show up.   That would be my prediction.
So,  as far as I'm concerned,  that was "the appointment".  We're done.
Let me know how you make out.
Thanks for your understanding.

So now he starts to get in a panic.   Oh,  and a little too chummy.

Dear Bob,

the appointment next week is of extremely high importance. It wasn’t a misunderstanding. We had to work out the appointment with the tenants of 4 apartments to find the right day and time.

Is there any way you can shift the oil change or give someone a certificate of authority? It’s enough that someone is in your apartment at that time. It doesn’t have to be you at all costs.

Thank you!

So between T.C. and I,  we sort it out,  and I let him know.

My wife has offered to take the car to the dealership in my place.  So I'll be here.
It's my hope that someone will indeed show up.
Until next week then.
Kindest regards.

Have you noticed how I keep repeating that mantra about “showing up”?   Right.

Well,  there they are,  over on the apartment that faces out on Mariahilfer that is still sitting empty since 2009,  since it’s too damned expensive.   Seems to me it was close to three grand a month.  Um, that’s Euros, by the way.

 

I couldn’t really tell,  but it looked to be about seven of them.  They had their plans,  and were pointing at stuff. 

 

So I wait.  It’s going to take a little while to make their way over here.  

About an hour or so later,  the doorbell rings,  but there’s only ONE GUY there.   Hm.   What the hell?

Remember my prediction?  Well,  they had seen enough by the second apartment,  and decided to call it a day.   So it was the Dude who had been sending these notes back and forth who quite likely figured that he HAD BETTER come to my door,  or I might just wander down to his office and drag him out by his heels.  

Don’t worry.  I was nice.  Pleasant even.  It’s not his fault he’s an idiot who is caught in the middle between the builder and the owner.   Seems they’re having some minor disagreement over whether or not the final bill should be paid.   After pointing out a few things that wouldn’t be acceptable in “Bob Land”,  I suggested they should keep holding back their money. 

 

His parting words were to the effect that they wouldn’t need to bother me again.   Got that right. 

Oh, and the oil change?   Wait until tomorrow.

 

Keep those sticks on the ice,  and thanks for lookin’.

 

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Heat is the enemy.

That sounds kind of ominous I suppose.   I’m only referring to a bit of a computer scare we had a few days ago.

The computer I’m using at the present time is the first ever laptop that I’ve ever owned.  When we first came to Europe back in 08,  I had this thought drop into my head that maybe a laptop might be just the ticket,  and it’s been a good choice.  Really.   It’s kinda difficult to lug your PC, monitor, mouse and keyboard to one of the Wi-Fi hotspots around town.  I’m trying to conjure up that mental image.  Ya,  I don’t think so.

I did have a slight battery issue back in 09,  and had to get a new one.  Stupid thing just wouldn’t hold a charge.  Not sure if it was something I did wrong,  but I’ve treated the new one just the same (poorly) and it’s fine.  The only criteria that I set out for myself when I was looking for a machine was that any laptop that I bought was NOT going to be running Windoz Vista.  Boy, was that ever a piece of crap.  Windoz XP seems to be working just fine presently.  Thank-you.  

I’ve never felt the need to drink the Apple cool-aid,  and if you have,  well I’m happy for you.  I’m sure they’re wonderful,  but I’ve priced those suckers and they’re outside of my comfort zone,  price wise.   We’ve gone so far as to have a couple IPods lying around,  but that’s the extent of it.

So this machine is coming up on four years old,  and seems to be operating just fine.  Just the same,  according to my nephew,  who happens to be a whiz bang computer type guy,  it’s not a matter of “if” your machine will crash,  but more like “when”.   Words to live by.  I do my back-ups.

The thing about a laptop is,  you probably shouldn’t actually put it on your lap.   You may have noticed,  if you have done this,  that these suckers get hot. 

 

So…one of my Christmas presents back in 08 (possibly.  maybe.  I think it was that first year, it had to have been.)  was a little device that sits under the machine and helps keep it cool.

Neat.

Hey,  it’s not easy getting sh*t for the Dad.  I usually just ask for socks and underwear.  I get blank stares instead.

 

See,  there are a couple little fans,  and it plugs into a USB port. 

Well,  now I have two of these things,  since the first one had an issue with one of the fans (which I later fixed after buying the second one,  of course)  which is OK,  since we discovered the other day just how freakin’ important this little guy is.

Since it runs all the time,  eventually the little fans start to slop about or something,  and once in a while sound like someone is starting up a Model T.   That’s as near as I can describe it. 

In our infinite wisdom,  as the Model T was being fired up,  we thought we’d just simply do without the little gismo for a while until I could determine what was up.   Well,  the computer simply quit.    I pushed the “start” button again,  it fired up,  and then it shut off again! 

I think I pooped a little.

When I picked it up I said,  “Holy cr*p this thing is hot!”.   And then the penny dropped,  and we realised just how much the little fan gizmo was doing for us.  And yes,   it was on somebody’s lap at the time,  and there might have been a fuzzy housecoat involved.  Not naming any names.

So now as long as those two little fans are turning,  even though it might make some complaining noises once in a while,  it’s staying put under the computer.  Plus I always have the spare,  although it sort of sounds like a Detroit Diesel.   Kind of makes the Model T sound like a purring little kitten.  

We’ll just have to learn to live with these little annoyances I suppose.  I mean, life is rough.  *snort*

 

*******

 

 

I noticed as I was hoofing it back home this morning that the “Euro Store”  on the corner of Neubaugaße and Mariahilferstraße had the same sandals that I bought on Saturday.   Oh and look!  The bastards are charging €5,00.   Ha!   I only paid three.  Nyuk Nyuk.

 

Let’s see,  if I invest that extra two Euros that I saved?  Should I go long?  A bond maybe?  Don’t know.  Hard to know,  really.   (um,  that would be the “tongue in cheek”  font)

OK, what I do know is,  it’s annoying if you see something the next day or so that’s MORE than what you paid,  and I think I would have been a little bummed out if it had been the other way around,  even though it’s only a couple Euros.   I guess it’s “whatever the market will bear”?  Kind of like asking twenty bucks for a pair with a “swoosh”  on the side.   I still get slightly indignant when I think of that. 

Reminds me of the time I lost a lens cap on the Bruce Trail many, many years ago,  and when I went to replace it,  the camera guy that I went to said,  “Well,  you can have the spiffy one that has Nikon on it and pay $20,  or there’s this one that does the same job,  fits OVER the end of the lens,  and costs um …95 cents.”   Guess what I bought?   Besides,  this was 1979.  Twenty dollars?   May as was well have be a hundred.

 

 

*******

 

I don’t usually comment on stuff I see in the “news”,  but I can’t help myself with this one. 

 

Apparently,  one of Air Canada’s finest woke up from a slumber,  thought they were going to hit another aircraft and decided to do an evasive manoeuvre.   And you know, sh*t happens,  he was looking out for everyone,  but probably over reacted.  Do ya think?

I’ll put a link to the article,  but sometimes these articles go by the wayside,  so I’ll put in a snippet as well,  just to be safe and well,  for levity.

 

Oh,  and note how they use the word “drama”.  *rolling my eyes here*

 

The drama began when the co-pilot of the Air Canada flight from Toronto to Zurich woke up and wrongly believed the plane was on a collision course.

He mistook the planet Venus for another plane. (heehee, c’mon, really??) 

Well,  I was already kind of chuckling at this point (was that wrong?)   but it was the next part that really caught my attention.   And had me pointing my finger of righteous indignation.

 Passengers without their seat belts on were thrown from their seats.  Canada's Transportation Safety Board also found that none of those injured during the 46-second drama were wearing seat belts, even though the seat-belt sign was on.

 

Oh!  Wait,  you mean the “seat belt sign was on”?   What,  did you think it was some fancy reading lamp?   What’s wrong here people?

Unless I get up to visit the can,  I keep my seatbelt on ALL THE TIME.   Here’s the thing,  you’re hurtling through the atmosphere in a metal tube at what?   Five/six hundred miles an hour?  

What makes you think you’re going to stay put,  if that metal tube takes a little detour?     It doesn’t need to be singing tight to keep you from popping up and bouncing off the ceiling,  but at the first indication that that might happen,  that’s when I cinch that sucker up!   Gah!  What’s so hard about that?

I see it way too often.   People unbuckling those seatbelts when they shouldn’t.  It’s not a complicated device either.  It’s designed for simple minded people.  Oh wait, that’s the bigger problem.  They’re simple minded.

 

I’ve been in a small aircraft and done a few spins,  stalls and what have you,  and it’s reassuring to have one’s hips firmly glued to the seat under you.   Having a couple items floating about in the cabin is bad enough,  you don’t want to be part of that flotsam.

 

Even when you’re on the ground,  you’re still moving along at a pretty good clip.  I wouldn’t unfasten my seatbelt in the car at that speed,  and it has airbags. 

For anyone who is remotely familiar with the workings of an airport,  you already know that there are places for the land based vehicles,  that are separated from those for the aircraft.   They all have their own little lanes, and they’re supposed to stick to them.

Well,  once upon a time when we were coming into San Juan, Puerto Rico  (one of many,  many occasions,  trust me)  and were tootling along on the taxi way,  within sight of the terminal, apparently one of the ground vehicles got a little mixed up and used one of the wrong lanes.  

So you have to think about this now,  and realise that the braking force that would be required to stop a passenger aircraft right after touch down would be well,  substantial?   It then follows that if you’re barely crawling along a taxi way at say,  50 miles an hour and the pilot needs to snap on the “binders” because some ground vehicle made a wrong turn,  you can well imagine that the plane is going to stop.   And I don’t mean maybe.

The fun part was seeing how all the folks who had undone their seatbelts were now firmly wedged down in between their seat cushion and the seatback in front of them!   Those funny passengers!  Always entertaining!  Not one of the airline personnel came to anyone’s aid either.  Hey,  they were buckled in,  as were we.  What,  you think I’m going to get up and help you,  you moron?   And hurt myself?  Lordy.

 

I just smile.  Smile and wave.  Smile and wave.

 

Oops.  I see I’m getting long winded again.  Sorry.  I’m outta here!

 

Thanks for lookin’.

 

 

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Drawing the line.

At being cheap.

Saw this in the grocery store Saturday morning.

 

*D’oh!*  I didn’t quite catch the price down below,  did I? 

Dang. 

It’s €1,99 and you get the second bottle free! What a dealski!  OK so,  a Euro a bottle?   Besides,  at first I thought it said,  “Red Beef”. 

That was what actually caught my attention,  and then I sort of stood there mesmerized for a second or two.  How crappy does the wine have to be to get shipped all the way from California and offered at basically a Euro a bottle?  I didn’t think I wanted to find out.  I mean,  I don’t really drink alone,  or at least not often, so how’s that going to work?   If T.C. gives it the thumbs down,  then it’s down the sink drain I’m thinking. 

And I’ve never been tempted to make Glühwein.  Gah!  Tried some on New Year’s Eve,  which was the second time in my life.  First time was probably 35 years ago.  Didn’t like then.  Nothing has changed.

Last week at some point,  I thought I’d try and find a couple little items for Travelling Companion in the make-up department.   Ya ya, I know.  “What are you thinking?”    Just wait.

The thing is,  whether I go by myself or not is immaterial,  since I’d have to go along anyway on one of these missions on a Saturday in order to speak the lingo.  Some store clerks speak a smattering of English,  but certainly not at the level of say,  the Dutch.   It’s a very limited vocabulary,  and one does tend to get ignored if you don’t speak German.  Hate to say it,  but thems the facts.

 

 

My mission,  should I choose to accept it,  was to find these two items.  

Struck out.  On both counts.   This was on Friday,  by the way,  and I set out on my lonesome.  The top one was available down on Kärtnerstraße,  at another Douglas location in the First District,  but I wasn’t about to go all the way down there.   Interesting to note by the way,  that that website takes you to a page where the head of the US operations is telling everyone they are no longer doing business in the States.  Hm.

Whatever.

Each of these items are some sort of “spackle”  or at least that’s what I’d call it.  Something to do with “covering up”  or ….something.   There were some alternative offered,  but like I said to the lady in the store,  “Wenn es mit Werkzeuge zu tun hät..?”  (If it had something to do with tools…?)   then I’d at least have a clue!  

So ….I tried.

Well,  what THAT meant was,  Travelling Companion and I had to go shopping together for make-up on Saturday afternoon.   Oh goodie.   The stores are basically mobbed,  or at least that’s my perception,  and so are the side walks.   I’d prefer not to go out there.  I get my shit done in the morning before the bag carrying shoppers are out,  and then that’s it. 

Fine then.   We found what was required.  Even got this nifty little bag.  

 

   

Isn’t that special?    Well that sure makes spending €80 a helluva sight more enjoyable.  So glad we had that time together there,  *squints* Jean Paul.   You weirdo.

I’ll be able to very fashionably throw out my paper recycling in that one.   Never hurts to do it with style I suppose.

See,  I KNEW that it was going to be pricey.  It’s just the way these things are.  Just the same,  I would have still preferred to get the two items on my own,  since the very first words I hear after we come out of the store are,  “Oh,  I want to go look at shoes”.  

See?? 

 

And you were thinking,  “Oh Bob,  you’re such a sweetie to go buy make-up for you lovely wife.”  

Um ya,  whatever. 

You know how Spiderman has that “Spidey-sense”?   See,  I’ve developed some sort of “If we go shopping together I know it’s a slippery slope”  sense.   Now you know.  It’s never about ‘one thing’.  Oh Gawd if it could only be that way!   This is probably THE ONE THING I miss about not being at home.  Back home, T.C. goes shopping with her sister.  I smile and wave.  Smile and wave.  “Have fun!”.  And off they go.

 

Aren’t they lovely?

We didn’t buy any of those.

I don’t even know where the shoes ended up.  They’re around here somewhere.  They fine.  Wonderful even.  From a company called Paul Green, up in Munich.  And besides,  the pair they’re replacing have been around for something like 15 years and refuse to die.  So I guess I could do some sort of 15 year amortisation of these shoes that we bought.  Oh, plus the shoe trees the girl basically hood winked me into buying for an additional €14.   *note,  as a discretionary measure,  I didn’t put in the price of the shoes,  only the “up sell”  that I was suckered into*.   Just thought I’d point that out.   I know shoe trees are necessary, but I’m sure I have a couple pair somewhere.  Maybe back in Canada.  So we ended up with a souvenir.   There you go, there’s my justification.

 

For my part,  I bought myself a pair of “45s”.   (Um,  I know it’s not reflexive,  the poor grammar is intentional.  Don’t you know by now?)

 

 

I caught a glimpse of these in the window of the “Dollar Store”.  (It’s really a “Euro Store”,  but you know what I mean).   A whopping Three Euros.   My big expenditure.

I’ll admit they are slightly large,  but not nearly as large as the photo makes them look.  There’s a bit of an angle illusion happening there.  Really.  Trust me.

The pair we are presently using for nipping out on the terrace are starting to show signs of aging.  They never seem to wear out on the bottom.  It’s the strap part that begins to give away.  There are flip-flops galore it seems,  but I CANNOT abide anything between my toes,  and sometimes finding this type of sandal (if that’s what you call it)  can be a bit of a challenge. 

I should say,  I did find a pair back home in Canadian Tire a few year back,  when I was trying to replace a pair that were getting so old that even the duct tape holding them together was showing signs.   They wanted twenty bucks!   That’s a lot to pay for that “Swoosh”  along the sides I thought?   I put them back.  They’re the same “Made in China”  crappy things that all the stores pay about seventy-nine cents for,  so they’re making a tidy profit charging me what they did at three Euros.   Twenty bucks my ass!

 

So it’s a darned good thing that bank machine started working.  That’s all I have to say.

 

Speaking of “slippery slopes”,  I’ve been getting into the habit of putting in a pic of our evening meals.  This is hit and miss,  but if I think of it,  I’ll do it I suppose.

I mentioned that the butcher will cut a steak off a tenderloin at whatever thickness I prefer? 

Well,  there you go.  These guys were well over an inch thick,  which means being able to get the outsides nicely grilled,  while leaving the middle nice and soft. *drool*

Don’t want no shoe leather.  And they sure weren’t.

 

 

The peas AND the beans is only because I’m trying to clear out some room in our tiny freezer.

We’re not huge “meat eaters”,  but I’d sooner “go big or go home” when it comes right down to it.   No point in buying cheap meat.  That’s all there is to it.  Why bother?  So I can gnaw at it a little and then throw it out? 

 

Anyway,  I think I’ve used up enough words for today.

 

Thanks for stopping by.

 

 

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