Miss Begotten is one of my pet names for myself, for Southern Gothic reasons best kept to myself. Miss Begotten tries to speak plainly, but sometimes she tends to babble -- parenthetically, of course. It's never my intention to offend (and usually that's true - except on those [maybe not so] rare occasions when I mean it very friggin' much) but it sometimes happens, so if you're unusually easily offended...
Tuesday, January 31, 2012
Great Piles of Junk
This is one week's worth of junk mail. I not only get deluged with spam in my e-mail, but I get piles of it in my snail mail, too. For some arcane reason known only to the retail gods, companies I bought one item from years ago feel compelled to spend the money to send me a new catalogue every week. Oh, and see the blue and yellow items on the sideboard at the right? Those are extra phone books that have been dumped on my doorstep. Why do they think I need more than one? I'm not running an empire.
I don't really mind the e-mailed spam, because it's so easy to get rid of -- one click and it's gone. Somebody, however, has to bag up all that paper spam and haul it to the dumpster. That would be me. This is way more work than I want to be doing.
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6 comments:
(Sniff)...
All those dead trees!
Shameful
Oh, indeed it is, Mr. G. For sure.
Hold on to the stack. I'll need them all to see you over the centerpiece from the other side of the table.
Aw, don't worry, Pugsley, I'll have a booster seat for you.;)
I get the same crap. Sigh.
quid
I hear you, Quid. Sigh.:)
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