Wow. It's been almost a year since I have written. I must be really busy.

Reading back now at my previous posts I realize how funny I am. I can't help but to laugh out loud at my own jokes. Some people think you're not supposed to laugh at your own jokes, but how are you going to amuse other people if you can't even amuse yourself?

So, in an effort to share my amazing sense of humor with others, I promise to write more frequently.

You're welcome.

Dear Protestors:


My dad is severly allergic to bee stings. One day, before he had possession of an Epi Pen, he got stung and had to drive himself to the hospital.


Your protest was staged on a very busy road, and happens to be a direct route to one of the area hospitals. I hope to God that someone trying to get to the hospital to say goodbye to a dying relative or was in labor or was having an allergic reaction, wasn't stuck in the traffic jam.


You remind me of the people that don't pull over for volunteer firefighters with blue lights simply because they don't HAVE to, and then complain when they get home and their house is burned to the ground.


Love,
Stacy

Dear Protestors:



Congratulations on your successful protest. You succeeded in creating a huge traffic jam. You succeeded in being the direct cause of an accident in which at least one person was taken to the hospital. You succeeded in reminding us how much we hate protestors. You succeeded in making yourselves look really stupid. Congratulations.



Love,

Stacy

Dear Protestors:



Captain America hates you.



Love,

Stacy

My friend, and blogging inspiration, Tara, has created "theme months" on her blog. These entries are always very popular and entertaining. An event today inspired me to write my own "theme month" blog. This month's theme is called "Letters to Protestors."


Here is the background:


On a normal day, I take my lunch hour from 1 to 2 and sit in my office watching soap operas. Today, I decided that I have put my errands off long enough and that perhaps they would be less painful if I did them during lunch and treated myself to Arby's on my way back to the office. I had no idea what was in store for my lunch hour.


While driving down the Vestal Parkway, the road where Vestal placed ALL of its retail stores and restaurants, thus making it very very busy, I was passed by several speeding police cars. When I crested a ridge on the Parkway, I was amazed and in awe of all of the red and blue lights ahead of me. I have never ever seen so many police officers in one place at one time. Ever.


There had to be at least twenty police cars stopped at an intersection which houses the Residence Inn, AIG, Tully's, Starbucks, a local gym, a military recruiting station, Binghamton University apartments, a local television station, and most importantly, Coldstone Creamery.


My first thought was that someone dropped another "turd" outside the men's restroom at AIG.


My second thought was that they had set up a road block or had cornered the murder suspect still at large and who, just this week, committed the first murder in Binghamton in 2008. I figured it would be something exciting that all of the cops wanted to be a part of. And it would certainly warrant the use of so much police force.


My third thought was that there was a really really terrible car accident where at least four people had to have been killed.


My fourth thought was that "police week" had started early and with a vengeance.


My 5,364th thought was that it was an anti-war protest. I mean, come on, this is Binghamton.


Before you comment that the attention I will be devoting to the protestors is just what they want, please understand that it will in no way be in favor of them. You see, I have to drive by the Binghamton Federal Building every work day and enough protestors have almost hit my car that I have earned the right to rant about them.


Enjoy!

Stupidity is funny, take 2!

This is an actual conversation that occured at my office a few weeks ago between myself and a caller:

Stacy: "Good afternoon, Scott Anglehart's office."
Caller: "I didn't know Anglehart and Gerhart was brothers."
S: "I'm sorry, who?"
C: "Anglehart and Gerhart. I didn't know they was brothers."
S: "They're not."
C: "But they have the same last name."
S: "Anglehart and Gerhart?"
C: "Yeah."
S: "That's not the same last name."
C: "Well they both end in hart."

Seriously. That actually happened.

Stupidity is funny.

This is an actual conversation that occurred today between Chase Manhattan Bank and myself:

Chase Manhattan Bank: Account number?
Stacy: I don't have that information.
CMB: Social security number?
Stacy: xxx-xx-xxxx
CMB: OK, now for security reasons I need the last four digits of the social security number.

A Loss in the Entertainment World

Marcel Marceau, perhaps the most well-known mime the world has ever known, passed away last night. My heart goes out to his family, friends, and all of his fans who cared so deeply about him. However, since I am NOT a fan AT ALL of clowns, mimes, and the like, this is what I have to say about his life:







He was 84.

To-Do List: 1) Make a To-Do List

This morning on "Sunday Morning" there was a segment devoted to lists and our obsession with them. Although a big fan of them, I have never thought much about lists, I just make them. Americans love lists. They are easy to read, simple to understand and not very time consuming. I see lists on the cover of the magazines I subcsribe to: Top 10 College Women; 100 Hot-City Guide; 10 Foods for Sexy Abs; Nine Secrets Health Insurers Don't Want You To Know; Your So-SIMPLE Shopping List. With a little prompting by "Sunday Morning", I remember that lists have been a huge part in our society for thousands of years. The New York Times Bestseller List is a list. The Bill of Rights is a list. The Ten Commandments is a list.

After watching the segment, I realize that lists might actually control my life.

I keep a constantly running to do list that I keep in my car so that I can refer to it often.

I keep a grocery list when my parents are out of town and I actually have to buy my own groceries.

I keep a list on www.43things.com of the things I would like to do/accomplish someday.

I keep lists at work about what files need to be worked on and what I need to do with them.

I keep a list on www.netflix.com of the movies that will be delivered to me next.

Look at that, I just made another list.

A couple of weeks ago, I was driving down 17W, in a very busy section with exits and entrances to the highway, and I noticed the car in front of my was looking a little strange. I soon realized that it looked strange because the driver was holding a cassette tape out his window and slowly unraveling the insides. Upon completion, he threw the cassette tape out the window and allowed the inerds to be blown everywhere amongst the traffic. Since I have terrible luck with vehicles, always my own, I of course got all tangled up in the insides of this cassette tape (I like to pretend it was the Backstreet Boys).


Since I was totally on my game at the time, I thought to get the douch bag's license plate number and saved the tape that was still stuck on my car when I arrived at my destination (you know, just in case it was a recording of a murder like on Law & Order). After stewing about it for a couple of days, and seeing the unraveled tape in my car everytime I drove somewhere, I decided to take this matter to the trusty Vestal Police Department (not because I love men in uniform, especially cops, but because it could have caused an accident).


Working for the Town of Vestal attorney has it's perks and I was able to speak with the reporting officer again yesterday. He informed me that he called and spoke with the douche bag, who admitted that yes, he was on the highway at that time on that day, but that no, he did not throw a cassette tape out of his window.


I understand that I should not spend my precious time trying to figure people out, but I will never understand why people LIE so much. Seriously.


Oh, you want to know what the license plate was? It was a blue Ford Taurus with New York plate DZN 4487. Stay tuned to http://www.platewire.com/ for updates.