Dear door-to-Door Solicitor:
For Christ's sake, get a real job. Any type of employment which has you dragging your uninspired ass from house to house and ringing doorbells is a straight shot to mediocrity. This is not 1932; there are plenty of jobs available. Whatever wrong turns you've taken in life that have brought you to this point, I assure you it's not too late to turn things around. In fact, I'm going to collect a huge stack of employment applications from various local retail and food service establishments and keep them by the door. Each time one of you shitheads rings my doorbell in the middle of the day when my toddler's ten minutes into his nap, I'm going to open the door and hand you one of them. Then I'm going to shove five more up your ass. Jackass.
Dear Expensive Glasswear Collector:
You, ma'am, are an asshole and a jackass of the highest order. Collecting anything merely for the sake of collecting it (mechanical teddy bears, porcelain hummingbirds, pewter thimbles) is more than enough to put you in the jackass category...but collecting something expensive that is incredibly delicate and easily broken, yet meant to hold alcoholic beverages, is, well, fucking stupid. To then insist that your guests drink from your precious, expensive, delicate collectibles at holiday gatherings--and then have a coronary when one of these useless baubles predictably gets broken--speeds you right to the semifinals for the title of "Biggest, Dumbest, Most Assholified Jackass of All Time." Your irrational love of expensive crystal champagne flutes is simultaneously a red flag to your low I.Q. and the single greatest argument yet for more lenient punishment for assault and battery crimes. Now sit tight; I'm on my way over now to cram one of your stupid champagne flutes into each of your eye sockets. Jackass.
your blurb about collectible crystal reminds of a mall that my friends lived near. it was super expensive and catered to super rich peeps. you had to pay for parking, and it wasn't even valet. it wasn't in the middle of NYC, so i can't figure the pay for parking rule.
the entire mall is lined with plush white carpet. who would put white carpet in a public area where people constantly walk on with dirty shoes?
i wanted to go there just so i could spill grape juice all over the place and clean my mud encrusted shoes on the carpet.
laziness and cheapness (didn't wanna pay for parking) took over, and I never did it.
Call me paranoid, but I NEVER open my front door unless I'm expecting someone. There are way too many wackos out there.
Are you sure you weren't visiting my "evil" not-quite-sister-in-law? I swear, she's one of those "let's collect stupid frivilous shit that breaks" people!
Just relish in this joyful wonder:
Having my parents for dinner, she insisted on bragging about the price of each piece of china they were eating from. Halfway through what was supposed to be a "show off to people who really don't give a shit" meal, her young daughter screams from the bathroom...
"MOM! Come Help! I've got a CLING ON!!!"
Ah, the sweet sound of "your pretty crystal can't make up for that one!"
Sorry, I hate her!
yeah, what she said! bastards!
I was gonna say I love you but that would come across like a crazy and I'm not, but you are succinct.
Assholified: This is the best word I've seen in a long time.
I have never understood the appeal of stemware. I have a lovely collection of brown paper bags that I picked out at Macy's shortly after that whole eloping escapade. No, I didn't give them back. I thought it was tacky of his family to even ask.
As a known Contagious Social Disease Collector, I'd figure you'd show leniency.
I read you loud and clear on the doorbell numbers. Every time I'm awoken by the hounds and Jehovah Witness bible beaters gets my goat.
As for the glasses thing, I don't know a single person who does that come to think of it.
I married the son of one of these "folk". Every year they give us another box full of china or glassware. Every year she checks on the status of the previous gifts; tallying missing pieces, scratches, burn marks, etc...
It used to bug me. Then I made a point of assuring there was no intact set before her visits. Now she gives us the china equivalent of "wash-n-wear". I cannot escape.
Oh well, this way she doesn't cry when she can't find the missing glass.
My collection of vintage "old hollywood" crystalline snow globes is different though, right? please?
I did door-to-door sales once. For a week. I wonder how many of the guys in that office are still at it.
I LOVE you!
(I'm on my way out to pick up a stack of those job applications to keep by my door right this minute....brilliant!)
I think the door-to-door salespeople are right up there with the Missionaries from the Mormon Church. (I can freely make fun of them, as half of my crazy family is part of that church. Thank goodness my dad had the good sense to run away to Vegas.)
Of course, the Jehova's Witnesses are worse. I permanently got rid of them one year when I opened the door holding a bloody meat cleaver and a stained plastic apron with the smile of June Cleaver... hehe, meat cleaver - June Cleaver? Nevermind. (For the record, I was prepping a shank of meat for a huge tailgate-barbecue.) Just as I opened the door, my friend yelled from the kitchen: "The ribs just fell on the floor and got blood everywhere!" By the time I turned back around to address the JWs, they were no where to be found...
I hear you, Karla, but really, did you HAVE to smash that precious stemware against your pregnant belly while hollering "Boo-Ya?" It was over-the-top, even for you.
Fatwonkkid: You owe it to your country. Suck up the parking fees and get over there immediately with your Big Gulp slurpee.
Dyckerson: I'm going to lay off your tiny penis this one time. It takes enough abuse from the syphillis-riddled prostitute who is the only female sees it on a regular basis.
Ellie's Mommie: That happens to me when Common Wombat visits. It IS embarassing.
Carla: Oh, don't be silly. Admit your love for me. It can be very freeing.
TFG: You're just jealous--you've never been able to get close enough to anyone to get a disease from them. Try calling Dyckerson's prostitute.
Nocturnal: Then you're definitely hanging out with the right crowd. Keep it up.
i'm glad i've moved to a place where there are mountains and shit and people can't find my house even with a map. it helps, too, that my doorbell is disconnected, and i have three dogs snarling at the gate.
You are on a roll, Ms. Deliverer-of-Jackass Awards.
I find dealing with the Mormon missionaries is easy. When they want to come inside to "educate you on the ways of the true church," tell them you'd love to but you're just in the middle of sacrificing a live goat in the back yard and timing is of the essence. In response to their shocked looks, reply "hey, gimme a break, I couldn't find any virgins." Then pause yourlelf for a moment while looking at them through narrowed eyes and say "waaaait a second...you're virgins right? Sure boys, come on in!"
Not only will they not come in, but for some strange reason they never return either.
So I shouldn't come to your house selling my fine collection of Crystalline Champagne Flutes. That's a bummer. It really is a nice collection. You will receive 8 priceless wonders of the crystalline world for a free preview. If you decide to pass up this amazing opportunity, just send them back and owe nothing. If you are a decent human being and someone with slightly more taste than a bottle of water, then you need only pay $29.99 and agree to purchase three more 2 glass sets in the next two years for the low price of $19.99 each. Also, a couple of times a year, you will be given the opportunity to purchase a 4 glass set from a different country for the low low price of $29.95. Should I come by Thursday, or will you still have some of those applications handy? I'll just wait until you run out. Whenever is good for you really. . . . as long as there is no stuffing of anything up my butt involved.
I think your pregnancy hormones make you a little scarier than usual :) (congratulations, by the way)
Karla - you know I love your blog and I am happy to hear that you are having another child, but I also understand that when women give birth there is often involuntary bowel movements and “discharges” - why the hell would you put yourself through that again? I’d guess it was for love… but from what you tell us, you are a heartless alcoholic harpy. What is in it for you? Money? Drugs? Does Brian have something over you?
Again, great news, very happy for you, best wishes, please don’t scar this one…
Oh, here's a great jackass for you to chew on (and spit out): My artsy-fartsy pompous hoighty-toity friend-in-law (not my friend, the husband's friend!) came over and we broke out a really nice bottle of wine (yanno, more than $10 but less than $20? :P) to drink. He took it upon himself to fetch my wine glasses and snorted derisively while inspecting them pinched between forefinger and thumb and said, "Jesus, I need to get you guys some real wine glasses." I had the perfect (and honest) come-back that made him turn red in the face and shut the hell up: "I inherited them from my dead grandmother. If you don't think they're worthy enough in which to drink rotting grapes you can kindly leave." We all got a few of those, don't we?
When Ellie's Mom was little I had a door to door GOD peddler with bad timing.
I finally was prepared.
I met him at the front door in a full hooker outfit. I informed him he could have 1 hour of my time for 100 dollars. We could spend that hour talking about GOD or in the Bedroom, his choice.
HE NEVER RETURNED..NOR WAS I EVER BOTHERED BY GOD PEDDLERS AGAIN. GUESS WORD GOT OUT.
I've dabbled a little in back-door soliciting, but, so far, my wife's not buying.
When you areound someone who collects crystal, refer to it as "glass" -- they love that.
I don't see what your problem is, I have a nice collection of door to door salesmen (and women) in my basement. They really aren't all that breakable until they've been down there for a few months on light rations but boy do those bones snap easy the vitamin deficiency and scurvy kicks in.
Wow. So was it YOU who broke someone's precious collectible? Shame on you!
EWE, M. Dyckerson! Just ewe.
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