Completely Random Part II: The REVENGE!

It’s time for the latest installment of Completely Random! For the uninitiated, Completely Random are a bunch of tiny, unrelated things that won’t fit into a whole post, but that I find entertaining.

So who wants a quick Dog Man update? Well, too bad, you’re getting one anyway. Dog Man is our condo neighbor and hates me. A couple of weeks ago we had a pretty bad rainstorm and at 11 o’clock at night he was out in the middle of a heavy rain sweeping leaves off the sidewalk and glaring up at the tree. It’s great that he wants to keep our courtyard looking nice, but it seemed like making the bed while you’re still laying in it.

Speaking of neighbors, we got a couple of new ones and I’m pretty sure they’re either hookers, porn actresses or some combination of both. No, you cannot have my address or come over. But honestly, as long as they are quiet and don’t hog the washer, I don’t care what they do. Considering that is the same condo where the cops dragged out one of the last tenants for being a Craigslist prostitute, I’m curious where they are advertising that place for rent.

I get at least one hit each day on this post from someone searching “wombat” on Google.  It makes me  every time I see it in my stats, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a little hurt that they weren’t searching for my photo, but what are you going to do. (You: “I’m not falling for that again!” Me: “No, it’s really me this time.” You: *heavy sigh* Okay, I’ll click it.” Me:  *runs away giggling*)

I run into a lot of ….eccentrics (that’s a nice word for weirdos, right?). Like the guy who would ride his bike around the neighborhood wearing a pith helmet like he was an old-timey archeologist. Or the guy who cornered me in the bookstore and would not stop talking about his theory that angels and aliens are one in the same. Or the customer who thought it would be a good idea to encourage Costco patrons by yelling, “Let’s do this thing!!! HUSTLE! HUSTLE! HUSTLE!!!” Or the lady wearing scrubs and angrily screaming at me in the school parking lot in a pitch so high only dogs could hear, “MY CAR!!! I CAN’T FIND MY CAR!! WHERE IS MY CAR????” I told her to go inside and ask for campus security. She looked at me like I was crazy and asked, “GO WHERE???? INSIDE WHAT???” Considering we were standing about 20 feet in front of the only building in the vicinity and the entrance could only be more clearly marked if it had big neon flashing arrows pointing to the revolving door, the missing car situation was suddenly not so shocking. After speaking calm and slowly and using a series of hand gestures, I got her to understand where to go and she went off still muttering, “The car…where….my caaaaar….” like a toy with a dying battery. I wanted to stay and see how it played out, but after about 20 minutes she still hadn’t come back out. So as far as I know, she’s still looking.

Coming up next month, it’s the blog’s one year anniversary! It is crazy how fast time flies. Have a great week!

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