Currently Bemused By: Vets who tell you they need a stool sample from your cat, as if collecting one in a multi-cat household is the easiest thing in the world. I won't go into any more detail because, y'know, gross.
Currently Pimping: Bill's Sasha page. If you're a hardcore kitten-picture junkie, there's your stuff.
The Entry of Laughing At The Misfortune of Others.
I'm getting pretty sick of cat pictures that would be adorable except that the cat has glowing "Village of the Damned" eyes. The red-eye reduction on my digital camera does absolutely nothing to help this.
I have a brand new guilty Web pleasure: Planet Feedback, where the elite meet to complain about different companies and maybe score some gift certificates. It's Friday and if you're anything like me, I imagine you need a brainless diversion to take you into this holiday weekend. So I'm going to share.
If you've read this journal for more than an entry or two, you know that I'm a whiny bitch. Visit the "Shared Letters" section of Planet Feedback, pick the industry of your choice (anything having to do with restaurants or department stores is generally a goldmine), sort them to bring up the complaints, and I think you'll find that I'm a content, peaceful and nearly Zenlike soul next to some of these people. You can rate the complaints ("Will the company respond to this? NO WAY!") and comment on them, and I'm finding this whole thing way too addictive.
Yes, some of the complaints are legitimate. Many more seem like something that could have been avoided if people simply sought out a manager, or read the exchange policy for the stores they patronize. It's easy to spot the letters where people slink out of the store meekly and get real mad on the way home and write furious letters full of sound and fury and threats of lawsuits from the safety of their computer chairs.
PlanetFeedback has a compliments section as well as a bitch box and some kind souls actually do use it to say nice things, but they're not nearly as much fun to read. Here are some angry letters to get you started:
Attention WDUM Newsdesk: those evil old men who "greet" you at WalMart want to see your receipts when you leave! Fascists! Fight the power! What is there to say to that except "Get a freaking life?" How hard is it to show someone a receipt that the cashier just handed you seconds before, for Chrissakes? It's unbelievable what some people will pick to turn into a big crusade.
Dear Six Flags: I am the most passive-aggressive person in the world and my boyfriend made me get on your stupid rollercoaster all for nothing. Okay, I don't particularly like it when I'm ignored by a staff person whose attention I need, but all I do is say "Excuse me." Problem almost always solved. If it isn't, then I stomp off in a huff. Standing there and pouting for a half-hour is just silly. And gee, long lines at an amusement park in the summer? File that one under "D" for "Duh." (And where did she get discrimination out of this incident, anyhow?)
The food doesn't look like it does on TV! This is a common lament among PFB writers. Some people are actually shocked -- shocked! -- that the puffy cinnamon sticks and cheesy, luscious pizzas and thick, juicy burgers pictured in fast food TV ads do not actually exist at any fast food restaurants in our reality. Another big discovery for the "Duh" file.
Scam scam scam scam, scam scam scam scam ... lovely scaaaam, wonderful scaaam. "I cut my finger on your scale and then I passed out cold and I had to go to the ER and now I've got loads of hospital bills and extreme mental anguish at the sight of metal scales. Pay up" I don't think grabs for loads of money get much more shameless than this one.
Think this guy's pissed that his baseball game got cut off? I'm sure that was annoying, but as someone who's frequently infuriated when her favorite shows, such as "The Simpsons," are preempted for baseball a/k/a the most boring game in the history of the world ever (except for golf), all I can say is a Nelson Muntz-like "Haw haw!"
Mmm ... Roachburgers. I'm not mocking this one. That's just totally gross. I used to like Wendy's, but after seeing how frequently they come up in the litany of complaints about cleanliness and strange-objects-in-foodliness, I'm not sure I'm ever going back. Squick!
My alltime favorite (at least this week):
I'm wearing a $12,000 Rolex and demand to be carried around on a velvet pillow ... at Applebee's. Note to those who don't know: Applebee's is an informal family-type chain restaurant. I've never been there to know what it's like, but I suspect it's not the place to go if you want a fawning headwaiter and obsequious waitpersons who act like they give a shit how much money you make. It's very much the kind of place where chipper young folks wearing bright uniforms are going to say "Hey, folks," "Thanks, guys", and the like. How this pompous ass could have expected anything else is beyond me.
You may have noticed that some of the letters draw a Greek chorus of people who chime in to tell the writers how stupid their complaints are. None of those are from me.