Scammers EVERYWHERE!!

This year has been filled with scammers in my life.  And no, I'm not just talking about my cat who comes up and acts like he loves me just so I'll pet his furry fucking body. And no, I'm not talking about Nigerian princes trying to unload their fortunes on me to protect them from evil governments and rebels of said governments.  However, in my war against technology (and yes I realize I'm using the internet to post a blog against the evils of itself), the scammers have found more and more ways to get ahold of me.

I had someone offer me a job to wrap my car in advertisement for a nice little sum.  It was for Bud Lite Lime.  Now for those who know me, they know I'm cheap and will pimp out an endorsement for just about anything if you're willing to pay me.  So a few days later, I get a certified letter in the mail from Drummond Corporation- which turns out to be a coal-related company in Alabama.  Inside are two checks, both from Seminary colleges, one in Michigan and the other in Pennsylvania.  The checks are literally identical in appearance, and amount.  The only differences I find are the check numbers, the account numbers, and who they are from with their addresses.  Even the damn signature is identical.  One being a Puritanical Seminary and the other a more Evangelical type, I find it odd that they would hold with the same guy in charge of their finances, nevermind some Puritan organization pimping out alcohol.  Why not just say the Puritans are asking em to enlarge my penis to have sex with busty married MILFs at bigcockbangers.com or some damn website that goes against everything they hold to be holy?

Once I received the checks, I was asked about them through text, and then to deposit the checks into my bank and forward a Western Union money order off to some lady in South Carolina, who is the party responsible for coming out to wrap my car in the advertisement.  And the texter is using a California number.  Now, maybe Americans are in fact getting dumber, and this wildly tangled web of shit is such a boondoggle that most wouldn't see through this whole charade, but I was brought up when education along with a healthy dose of common sense was instilled in a good portion of us kids early on.  I had a nice back and forth with this lady and even gave her the confirmation number for a Western Union transaction.  She said she was having problems tracking it. I had given her a 10 digit code, much like seen on googled pics of western union confirmations.  I told her the tracking number corresponds to a phone number and she can call that number and confirm it for herself.  I don't know if she ever tried it or not, but after I gave her the number to the FBI's switchboard, and I never heard a peep from her since.

On another level of scams, I have received calls from all over the country from Pretrial Intervention Services, or some other variation of a like name.  It seems, unbeknownst to me, that I owe a check cashing place a LOT of money.  Thousands of dollars even.  I'm not entirely sure how they got my information, but they did have a healthy (or rather unhealthy) portion of some pretty specific financial and personal information.  They knew who my debtor was, and how much I owed total, but they couldn't tell me the original transaction amount or any of that business.  But despite their not knowing that, I was definitely in need of a lawyer, or I was going to need to settle up before this went to trial and ruined my social security (I'm not sure how they intend to ruin my social security yet, I figured that was a politician's job), and ruin my job!  I informed one, that my current job already ruined me, and that it was already such a leech of a job that it couldn't possibly be ruined further.

The first thing that has intrigued me about these callers is that all of them have been Indian (the dot not the feather), or Pakistani or some other similar ethnic variety with a heavy accent. After literally dozens of calls from a variety of offices around the country, I have yet to run into one person on the other end of the line that has anything other than a very generic Americanized name, first and last names both.  Some use celebrity names, mostly of some pretty famous athletes including Michael Jordan!!!  Man, that guy was such a great basketball player, and been a pretty good businessman from most accounts.  The economic collapse of 2007-08 must've really hit him hard.  It seems it has caused him to genetically mutate into an Indian accented customer service representative in Ohio.  I feel kind of bad for the poor guy.  His finance manager really sucked! 

Anyways, the this last week I keep missing calls from the San Francisco Bay Area.  I take the time to listen to the voicemail.  I was hoping to hear from someone in the 49ers or Giants organizations to let me know I was getting a portion of one of the stadiums named after me, and some other perks for being such a good fan over the years.  No such luck in the end...it was some Indian lady leaving me a well read response to call back to discuss my legal troubles.  Since I never bother to call back, they keep calling.  The other day I managed to answer the phone.  The lady (Her name happened to be Amanda Jones) wasn't so smooth in her delivery when she has to talk to me in person.  I told her that despite my legal troubles, I still regard myself as important enough to be spoken to in a more professional manner.  She told me to call back to her advisor's office at 415-513-0133, which just happened to be the same number she was calling from.  I guess business is a little bad for them that she didn't have the kind of phone that allowed her to transfer the call to the advisor personally so I could clear these matters up.  After missing yet another call while I was at work, I took a few moments to call back.  I reached Sam Watershead.  Sam also has an Indian accent.  I guess Sanjay Gupta was too busy to make the call, so at least I know I was talking to a real down home American kind of businessman. 
It seems that despite the fact that they call me from San Francisco, my case is being filed in Los Angeles County. That is quite a few hours drive between the two.  They had no reason why the debtor has NEVER bothered to contact me prior to such an important legal and financial matter would go to court, just that they had written the debt off as uncollected and warranting the spending of several thousands of dollars to haul me in for a judgement of a few thousand bucks.  Now, I'm no lawyer, but we do have a law school up here in the fancy little town of Des Moines, Iowa, and I do happen to know a few finer points of law.  For instance, in a civil judgement on a financial matter which had to have been contracted by me while residing here in the Des Moines area, they would be forced to go through my local Polk County sources, and that I would be served notice of any such impending court dates.  Sam seemed impervious to this and asked if I had a lawyer ready to go.  I said that I did not, mainly because Cash Advance America (my supposed debtor) wouldn't give me enough money to retain a lawyer, and that since I wasn't in any arrears I probably wouldn't need one anyways.  He asked me how we would resolve this matter then if I wasn't prepared with a lawyer.  When I asked if this was the part where I send him some money and he makes it all go away, he kind of hedged his bets.  So, it appears that Sam Watershead (If that's his real name! His real name is probably Peggy), wasn't a COMPLETE moron when it comes to interstate banking fraud, but he was completely unaware that I was the kind of guy who can put on a lot of bullshit to make me sound a lot smarter about matters than he can ever hope to be.  Guess I hadn't been toking enough of the marijuana joints and slobbering over my Cocoa Puffs enough to be taken in by his stupid ruse.  In fact, I just kept belching out more and more information on legal matters, financial regulations, etc etc, he finally decided, after trying and failing to "calm me down", to hang up me.  I felt pretty satisfied with my efforts.  I'm nowhere near the creative phone comedian as say Tom Mabe, but I did alright.

And just for the record, I'd like all of my readers to call the above listed number in San Francisco and see if you can talk with Sam Watershead, or whatever his nom du jour may be that day.  Let me know who you get to speak with and see if they might try to harangue you into court somewhere if you dont find a way to settle the matter ahead of time.

Observations Of Events During Superbowl Weekend

All these events happened during Superbowl weekend, and are in no way in chronological order or in an order of importance.

Buggy decides to choke me out with a dual combination of a scissor lock around my neck from behind while using his hands as leverage to exert some extra pressure on my windpipe. He's learning....air flow as well as blood flow are equally important in taking down your opponent. For this I am a proud father. In addition to open palm slapping a school bus bully earlier int he school year, he is learning other techniques. A little more practice and he'll he getting in trouble at school for picking fights with older kids and winning. I'll have to scold him and explain to him why that is a bad thing, and yet, part of me will be smirking inside knowing I have raised a boy that learns to handle himself physically.

So I play along, and fake death. He checks the eyeballs by lifting the eyelids, and I have rotated the eyeballs downward so he only sees the whites of my eyes. Then he proceeded to surprise me with a move I had no idea he knew anything about. He had gone from killing dad to trying to resuscitate dad. He pulled my head up and tilted it back and with a firm grip on my nose he began to give me mouth to mouth. I stopped this before he gave me a heart stopping blow to this old guy's chest. When I asked him what he was doing, he said he was bringing me back to life by giving me "face to face". After his mom came home from work, and heard this story, she was more than just a little amused at the antics of her youngest boy. I on the other hand, was less than enthused with a slight bit of his spit-laden breathing that had entered my mouth.

Later on Friday night, I had the neighbor from downstairs send up their grandson to ask why we were letting it shower in their kitchen. I was unaware of such phenomenon. So I made a check under the sink, and sure enough there was a pool of water, along with some fissures in the woodwork that allowed some of the water to leak through the floor and down out of their ceiling around the light above their kitchen sink. So, the sink and dishwasher were now off limits. I found a nice sized hole in the u-shaped pipe. So I call the property managers' number. No answer. Well, this doesn't shock me at 830 at night. I leave a message, and then again in the morning call back. I explain to the young ditsy lady in the office that the pipe has a hole in it and it leaks into the downstairs neighbors' apartment. Can she send someone over to fix it?


To that she replies, "Can it wait until Monday?"
I said, "No, I'd rather it be taken care of now. I can't use the sink or the dishwasher, which is a major inconvenience considering I pay for an apartment that comes with fully functional plumbing."

And to this she asks, "Why can't you use the kitchen sink?"
"UH, cuz there's a BIG HOLE IN THE PIPE THAT LEAKS ALL OVER IF ANY WATER FINDS ITS WAY DOWN THE DRAIN and RAINS IN THE NEIGHBORS APARTMENT...and the same if I use the DISHWASHER." I'm generally pretty easy going about whatever, bu when someone who is supposed to serve me asks a dumb question that any third grader would be fully capable of understanding the answer to, since it was already explained...well, Mookie The Sarcastic has a way of coming out.
I hear a disgusted sigh and a half hearted, "I'll see if I can't get anyone over there then.." As if somehow I have inconvenienced her. Well, I ended up waiting until this morning, Monday morning. I spoke with the maintenance guy while he checked it out and took a whole 5 minutes to solve the problem. Apparently there were a lot of issues that surfaced over the weekend that never got taken care of. I have never cared much for this young lady who works in the office. She is more concerned about getting new people in, and doesn't care much for dealing with anyone who has already signed their lease...until its time to renew anyways. She wrote it down, but from what I understand, it never got passed on to any maintenance guys to even look at the issue. Damn near the entire pipe was rusted out, almost along a seam.

There are a lot of aspects I don't like about my job either, but I do them to the same ability I do the other aspects that I do like, because its my F*&$ing job. I don't understand why these young idiots don't get this concept anymore. Guess I'm just too old fashioned in that I actually expect someone does their job the best they can do.

So for the last couple of days my wife has been schooling my oldest, Josh, on how to do dishes by hand, in a plastic tub to wash and one to rinse, and then hand dry and put everything away. I'm sure he has been scarred by such an atrocity of not being able to use an actual dish washing appliance. Even though his mother was doing the washing part for him. But good experience for the boy, as Calvin's Dad would say, "It's good for you and builds character."

Now, onto the Superbowl. Let me first say to all those rooting for Indianapolis to win: BWHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAAHA

Its not so much that I am a Saints fan, but as a 49er fan, I feel an allegiance to the NFC team in the Superbowl as well as the Pro bowl. That is, as long as the NFC team is not the Dallas Cowboys, Green Bay Packers, or any team made to include a certain guy we call Brett Favre. In fact, if Brett Favre we're to ever lead my beloved San Francisco 49ers to the Superbowl, I may come close to rooting against my own team. Okay, maybe not THAT bad, but I would pray for a victory almost solely on the shoulders of others and a career ending injury for the guy who can never seem to just retire and be done with it.

New Orleans was damn near killed off by wind and water a few years back by Hurricane Katrina...I wonder if a fire will erupt and burn the city down in what will be the first Mardi Gras to last at least 2 weeks? Because lets face it....there is almost always a riotous atmosphere and a car or two set ablaze in whichever city wins the Superbowl, almost always. And, New Orleans is really going to celebrate their first ever Superbowl appearance and win right on into Mardi Gras. There will be NO break in the party action. Participants will sleep in shifts to ensure the party never stops. It could be March before its all over.

Now to assess the game. While the total score tally ended up being 48 points, it was definitely a lower scoring game than predicted. And while the 31-17 score was a seeming blowout, it was much closer than that in reality. The 4th quarter pick off my Tracy Porter that was run back for a Touchdown sealed the deal, but up until that point, this was a close game that could've gone either way.

I was not surprised by the gutsy calling of Sean Payton in the first half (or the entire game for that matter) opting to go for it on fourth and goal at the 1 1/2 yd line. The play before I was sadly disappointed in the running back Mike Bell. He went off tackle right, and as he changed direction from lateral to down field towards the goal line, the idiot made a stupid mistake. HE tried to make the cut on his inside foot. I'm no superstar athlete but even I know that cutting on your inside foot always lands you on your ass, and if you don't it was merely because God himself had come down and kept you in a more upright position. Inevitably Bell never was able to plant his cleats into the turf because of this display of shoddy footwork and slipped on his face, with a little extra help from a salivating defender. It was this dumb mistake that forced the 4th and goal play to even come into question. Now, I too would have gone for it on 4th and goal, no doubt. On your opponents 1 1/2 yd line down 10-3? with about 2 minutes left? Oh yeah.
But the play calling itself was amateurish at best. The kind of thing you expect from a first year coach in a JV game at your local school, not Sean Payton who has made his season on gutsy and smart game planning schemes. He stacks two receivers left, and then runs another off tackle right square into a mess of defenders, without any help outside the Offensive line. of course he wasn't going to score. That play was dead before they ever got out of the huddle.

Coach Payton did redeem himself coming out of halftime, with a brilliant and completely unexpected onside kick call, which was recovered by the Saints, and subsequently marched down the field for a touchdown to take their first lead of the game 13-10. Indianapolis, led by future Hall of Fame QB Peyton Manning, engineered a drive to answer New Orleans and regain the lead. Then the game slowed down, in a back and forth manner, with only 1 field goal by the Saints coming prior to the last 5:30 of the game. Then with about 5:30 left in the final quarter, Drew Brees capitalizes on a failed FG attempt by Indy, and marches the ball right down the field for another touchdown, followed up by a controversial 2 pt conversion to put the Saints up 24-17. Indy comes back out, making play after play. Then it happened. Peyton Manning throws out to the outside receiver, and Tracy Porter just cuts in front of the receiver, picks it off and runs it back 73 yards to pound the nails into the coffin that held the Colts' chances of a Superbowl victory. With about 3:30 left in the game it was just too much for even Manning's comeback abilities to overcome. Eventually as the clock winded down Manning threw an incomplete pass on 4th down, giving the Saints the ball and the ability to run the clock out without running a single real play. I saw the first half of the game on TV, and had to listen to the second half on the radio. But through either venue, it was quite an exciting game. The NFC wins and Brett Favre wasn't involved. The boss will be happy, I'm happy with it. It was a good weekend overall, despite having to, as usual, work on Superbowl Sunday.
I LOVE FOOTBALL!

Idiot Flips His Lid, I Lose A Day Off!

I have recently begun receiving Saturday and Sunday Nights off. While we have almost completely lost overtime in the Patrol Division of my security company, it is nice to at least get to be home on those days when my wife and kids are home for full days. Saturdays, like any first day off for a 3rd shifter, are long. I get home at 8am, and rarely bother with a nap, so that I might be able to do something here at home, and then go to bed that night like a regular person.

This last weekend was no different. I did catch a short nap, sort of, as I went in and out of consciousness with a football game playing on the TV. No big deal. Sunday I got up, went to church, came home, watched football and was hanging out while waiting for my wife to make supper for the family. At about 6pm, the phone rings, and my caller ID says its my boss. Part of me holds out hope that he's just calling me to tell me some really great story, or ask me some dumb question that even someone of my diminished mental capacity can answer.

"What're you doing tonight?" is the first question. This very question almost verbatim every time he calls me, is code for "I have work for you tonight."

So he offers me 3 options. Option #1 is to tell him to take a flying leap, I'm staying home tonight. Option #2 is to work 8pm to 6am patrolling Wells Fargo Properties. Option #3 is to do my normal patrol route on the 8pm-8am shift, and the guy who would have worked it, will do the WF patrols. Naturally, knowing the pecking order around here, I tell my wife what my boss is telling me. She immediately authorizes the 8p-8a shift. It was almost too quick. I suspect she holds weekend keggars after the kids go to bed whenever I have to work. Her new promotion has had her dealing with a few stressful situations (which cause amusing snafus with the voicemail setup at her work!!), so maybe she really is going to blow some of that steam off...right after I get my butt to work.

So, I agree to work, as a good husband who listens to his wife would do. Then I think to ask, what's up with the Overtime I'm being offered here. I would've said no, but with the Holidays coming up we need the money (read: my wife needs the money to go buy the gifts, and attach my name to them later).

From what I understand, (and mind you I only have half a story, as a lowly little peon in the company) is that some guy calls up on a blocked number to Wells Fargo, on the same line for local area customers, as opposed to a general national number, and starts wigging out. Apparently Wells Fargo appraised his property and he didn't like the figures. And I guess this warrants telling them essentially to "eat shit and die" (or something similar), and "they're gonna pay for this", along with, "this will be the kind of shit that you'll see on CNN" (again paraphrasing similarly aligned comments).

Some companies just dismiss anything and everything coming from the outside world (read: customers), and other companies hear a few keywords and freak out. I guess, and this is my opinion, that Wells Fargo deemed this as a threat along the lines of a big shootout or a bombing of buildings or something. So they call up our company, who does their security around these parts, and ask for extra protection at all their buildings in the metro area. We have guards in all these buildings, buildings that have cameras all over the place, and many have roving patrol presence anyways, but we have now stepped it up. More patrolmen, including patrols from our esteemed manager on duty, are there to save Wells Fargo from any doomsday prophecies being carried out by an irate customer over a phone line.

So naturally, my boss knows I like to have a little overtime, and he knows that whatever role I'm in, I'll do a good job. (Proof is that I was Rentacop of the Year, 2 years in a row....a made up award upon which I'm one of the few permanent voting committee members!) I enjoyed the opportunity to make some more money and see my paycheck almost approach the point where the boss actually pays me, instead of me giving him $15.47 contributions for the pleasure of laboring for him. But at the same time, I kind of hated to give my day off up, especially since I had gotten up before 9am, and wouldn't see any chance for sleep until after 8am the following morning.

So Black Sentinel since you requested it, that's my story. You may have some idiot readers at your blog, but I have to put up with the potential for idiots who honestly think they have time for shenanigans in the real world (which make me actually have to work and pay attention at the same time, which is blasphemous thinking in my book!), when they should be busy reading and leaving stupid comments on OUR blogs!!!