What’s my phone number? FUCK YOU, that’s my phone number.

Ode to Alec Baldwin in Glengarry Glenross.

This is an open letter to every place that wants your phone number whenever you buy something nowadays.

I think it started with RadioShack and–memo to RadioShack–trying to redefine yourself with what you to perceive to be a hip name like “The Shack” doesn’t make it so.  I think I’ve bought exactly two things from RadioShack in my entire life, and only because I had tried to buy it from any and every other place on the face of the planet just to avoid giving them my address and phone number.  I give reference to a Seinfeld episode where Kramer infamously asks why Radio Shack asks for your number when you buy batteries as the start of this trend.

It varies from store to store.  Some only want your zip code.  That’s only mildly intrusive, yet I usually say 90210 just to be an asshole.  Maybe because since 99% of people on this planet use a credit card or debit card to pay for their purchases, maybe the information could be pulled from that.

Gordman’s is one that will ask for your phone number.  Explain to me why I need to give you my phone number when I buy something at your store.  The only reason I can think of anyone wanting my phone number is to call me.  There’s a reason why I sign up for both the Federal and State No Call lists, and that reason is because I don’t want assholes calling my house at night trying to sell me something.  In fact, I sign up for the No Call lists and I still get calls from these assholes until I finally tell them if they call my house again I’ll report them to the FTC.

Whenever asked, I have a phone number I give them.  My old cell phone number which is no longer in service.  At least for me.  If there’s someone out there with my old cell phone number, I wholeheartedly apologize.

So I have my outs.  And it doesn’t happen at enough stores to really draw my ire.

Until last week Tuesday when I decided to stop at Pizza Hut to try some of their new Wingstreet wings.

I walk into a more or less deserted restaurant with no more than 10 people in it.  10 people who are enjoying the lunch buffet.  When I place my to go order for 8–yes, only 8–boneless wings, I’m told it will take 15-20 minutes.

I should have just said no thanks right there, because BWW will give them to me in 10, but I was running short on time to get back to work.

After informing me I don’t have to pay until the food is up–which still gave me time to leave–she asks me for my phone number.

My phone number.

At Pizza Hut.

Can anyone out there tell me exactly what the fuck Pizza Hut needs my phone number for?  I’m not having the food delivered to me.  Lord knows I should have because it probably would have been quicker to have it delivered to me than to sit there for 20 minutes waiting for the mouth breather in the kitchen to make the damn wings.  It’s not like there was even much of a lunchtime rush for delivery; I saw exactly one delivery person leave the whole time I was sitting there, and then with only three pizzas.

And then after waiting 20 minutes…well, remember how I said I didn’t have to pay right away?  I should have, because neither one of the mouth breathers in the kitchen knew how to ring me up.  I had to wait until the chick who was wandering around aimlessly in the back decided to saunter back up to the counter to pay for it.  I think she was also ticked I didn’t put a tip on there.

Where did she think she was working?  Subway?

All that being said, great wings.

I’ve decided that from now on, I’m not even going to give my old cell phone number.  I’m going to give them a 555 number that’s only used in the movies.  920-555-1234.  Better than that, I’m going to guarantee that virtually none of them will get the reference.  If one of them does and points it out, I’m going to tell them they can either get my fucking phone number or my money.  Because they ain’t getting both.

More to come as I come across and deal with this increasingly annoying phenomenon.

For your enjoyment, the Alec Baldwin speech from Glengarry Glenross, his finest hour.

I’M ON VACATION!

And yet, I’m still getting 100-200 hits a day.  Sometimes more.

This is the kind of writing I can live with.

The Pedestal will return after Thanksgiving, unless something moves my fancy before then.

Your Ironic Story of the Day

Leader whose group fights domestic violence accused of hitting wife.

The only story more ironic would be if the head of PETA slaughtered a chicken and ate it.

A prominent Hmong activist whose agency receives thousands of dollars in taxpayer money to run programs for victims of domestic abuse has been charged with misdemeanor battery in connection with a domestic violence allegation.

In the private sector, that would usually mean you’d be fired.  When you feed from the government trough, however, you’d have to murder someone to get fired–and maybe not even then.

Lo Neng Kiatoukaysy, executive director of the Hmong American Friendship Association, has been charged with causing bodily harm to his wife, Pa Kou Vang, in May, according to a criminal complaint. She told police her husband punched her in the face, causing her nose to bleed, the complaint says. It also states that the incident was observed by Kiatoukaysy’s 11-year-old daughter.

Just how exactly is the “Hmong American Friendship Association” a domestic violence organization?  If I was a battered woman and was thumbing through the Yellow Pages looking for help–

–yes, Yellow Pages.  Allow me that antiquated notion.

–I think I’d probably end up skipping right by the Hmong American Friendship Association ad.

It’s like having a Chinese restaurant named Colonel Bob’s House of Ribs.

Vang also made a recording during a quarrel in which Kiatoukaysy admitted hitting her in the car and says that he will hit her again, the complaint states.

Wow.  Okay, so this isn’t a one-time thing.  This isn’t some freakish moment of rage.  Sounds like he’s got some callouses on his hands.

Kiatoukaysy, 39, is the longtime head of the Hmong American Friendship Association and is considered a leader in the Hmong community in Milwaukee and throughout the state. The association helps Southeast Asian refugees to improve their quality of life and helps bridge cultural and language barriers.

Just how do you say “Slap the bitch up” in Hmong?

The agency annually receives a $148,613 grant from the state Department of Children and Families domestic abuse program budget, according to the state. The agency also receives multiple grants to finance an array of safety and support services for Hmong victims of domestic abuse, including crisis intervention, legal and other advocacy, support groups and community education. It gets $33,000 from the state to operate a statewide bilingual domestic abuse hotline.

In addition, the association gets $50,000 from the Bureau of Milwaukee Child Welfare for domestic violence education, including funding for batterer’s treatment services.

Your tax dollars hard at work.  I do love how all this money is only going to Hmongs.  If you’re white or black and getting the shit beat of you, we’re sorry.  No bandages for you.

Prominent on the organization’s Web site is the question “Is there domestic violence in your home?” with the telephone number for the bilingual Hmong crisis hotline.

If there’s not, they’ll send Kiatoukaysy over to cause some.  Have to justify those tax dollars, you know.

In her petition for the restraining order that led to the charge, Vang said she, Kiatoukaysy, their 2-year-old and her two stepchildren were driving to a May graduation celebration when the car swerved a bit. He started yelling at her that the car needed fixing, but she said she told him she didn’t know what was wrong with the car or how to fix it, the petition states.

It’s always good to drive cars that swerve on their own with children in the car.  Cheaper than taking them to Six Flags.

He continued driving, the car swerved again and he started yelling and cursing at her that “all of us almost died and it was my fault,” she said in the petition. When they exited Highway 45/I-894 near W. Greenfield Ave. in West Allis, he parked the car on the side of the road and continued yelling at her, she said.

So he’s driving and he’s blaming her for the car swerving.

He put air in the tires and the family continued driving to the graduation party.

Where the fuck did he get air from on the side of the road?

“He was upset at me and kept accusing me of harming the family, endangering the family, not being a good mother of the house,” she said in the petition. She said she started defending herself, saying she didn’t intend to harm the family and didn’t know what was wrong with the car.

Hell, he pulled air out of thin…air to inflate the tires.  Why didn’t he just pull a mechanic out of that interdimensional pocket he’s grabbing shit out of?

The argument continued to escalate, and both were screaming, she said. He became angrier and then struck her in the face with his fist, she said in the petition.

He continued yelling and the children were crying in the back seat, she said. Kiatoukaysy tried to hit her again and the older son intervened, blocking his fists, she said. When she put her face in her hands, she said, she noticed her nose was bleeding.

And this is the guy who’s head of an organization that gets taxpayer funds to fight domestic violence.

Sounds about right in the age of Obama.

Why So Sensitive, Beaver?

Packers Fire Worker for Comment Toward McCarthy.

For newbies, I think Mike McCarthy bears a striking resemblance to Jerry Mathers, who played The Beaver on Leave it to Beaver:

Obviously Jerry Mathers when he was closer to McCarthy’s age, but The Beaver nonetheless.  Just as I always thought this guy:

Looked like this:

He is The Walrus.  Coo coo ca choo.

GREEN BAY – Lambeau Field maintenance worker Mike Wood will be watching Packers games at home from now on.

Infinitely better than paying for them this season, all things considered.

That’s after he got canned for making an off-hand remark to Packers Coach Mike McCarthy.

Now, before we go on, stop for a second and think about the things one might say at their place of employment that may get them fired.

Wood tells the Journal Sentinel he yelled, “Hey coach, let’s get the boys ready to kick some butt this weekend,” while McCarthy chatted with crew members as the Packers were getting ready to play the Vikings November 1st.

A rallying cry.  Nothing wrong there.

Wood got let go the following Monday after Green Bay lost to Minnesota.

As an aside, if anyone should have gotten let go after that loss to Minnesota, it should have been McCarthy.

A supervisor told him McCarthy thought he’d heard Wood say “don’t lay an egg”, which Wood denies.

Don’t lay an egg.

First off, I don’t know who outside Petticoat Junction would say “don’t lay an egg” so it’s hard to believe he even said that.  But, assuming that is what he did say…really, McCarthy?  You would get a guy who put–how many years in?

Wood put in 22 years with the team, but also works for the City of Green Bay.

22 years in, and The Beaver gets him fired for thinking he told him not to lay an egg.

Well Beav, I don’t work for you or the Packers organization, so let me speak for Mr. Wood.  When you inherited one of the better teams in the NFL and coached them into the ground, when you had one of the best (albeit aging and slumping) quarterbacks ever to play the game, when you have one of the best upcoming quarterbacks in the NFL and you start off 4-4, you should get down on those ham hocks you call legs and thank whatever God you believe in that “don’t lay an egg” is the worst thing you hear that day.

If anyone had any respect for McCarthy, which is highly questionable, this should seal the deal.  You’re in the NFL, buddy.  You suck as a coach.  Either grow a skin or hand in your resignation and go hang out with Wally and Lumpy.

Wrong Tool, Sweetheart

NITRO, W.Va. – A former home improvement store clerk in West Virginia has been charged with discounting $20,000 worth of merchandise to win a man’s heart. Nitro police arrested 20-year-old Katie Lynn Smith Thursday on a fraudulent schemes charge. She had worked at Lowe’s.

Has she heard of blowjobs?

I suspect that would be a much quicker and less illegal way to his heart.

Or at least to his pecker.

Either or.

A criminal complaint in county court says a security video shows Smith selling the man a pressure washer worth several hundred dollars for $3.66. That’s the price of an 80-pound bag of concrete.

That’s all an 80 pound bag of concrete costs?

No wonder the mob uses it so much to dispose of the…ummm…evidence.  Cheaper than renting a wood chipper.

The complaint says Smith admitted incorrectly ringing up nearly $20,000 worth of merchandise in four months for “a male she desired as a boyfriend.”

I have to reiterate, Katie Lynn.  Teabagging him would probably have done the job without the jail time or the criminal record.

Police couldn’t say whether the scheme helped her romantic prospects.

The story fails to mention whether he’s in any trouble.  He just let her ring up a power washer at $3.66 and that didn’t strike him as odd?

For a going to jail and giving him a$3.66 power washer, he’d at least better throw a pity fuck her way.

 

In Tennessee, These Are Things That Happen on Days That End In Y

Man awakened in ditch with moonshine and rifle.

No no no.  When you find a man sleeping in a ditch with moonshine and a rifle, you’re supposed to let him sleep.  It’s dangerous to wake up a…passed out hick with a rifle.

THENS, Tenn. – When Ricky Butler went to sleep on a rural, East Tennessee roadside, he didn’t have to worry about comfort but apparently he was feeling insecure. McMinn County deputies found the 31-year-old Decatur man sleeping on his back in a roadside ditch, with a loaded rifle on his chest and an almost empty jar of moonshine in the bib of his overalls.

Fucking BIB OF HIS OVERALLS!

I can’t make this shit up.

Let’s just get it over with.  Police have released a picture of the man:

Butler told deputies who woke him up Sunday that he didn’t know where he was. He also told them the jar had been full.

Oh my God–did someone steal his moonshine while he was sleeping?

What kind of world do we live in when a man can’t pass out in a ditch with a rifle and a jar of moonshine and not have the moonshine stolen?

I just caught the fact the moonshine was in a fucking jar yet.

I…can’t…make…this…shit…UP!

Deputies said Butler also had a machete and hand-rolled cigarettes believed to be marijuana.

If his sister was naked next to him in the ditch, this is going to get The Pedestal story of the year award.

He is free on bond, charged with public intoxication, possession of drugs and unlawful possession of a weapon.

Just a weapon?  Which doesn’t qualify as a weapon in Tennessee–the rifle or the machete?

A public defender has been appointed but has not yet spoken to Butler, whose telephone number isn’t listed.

Go ahead and assume that someone wearing overalls who woke up in a ditch with a rifle and an empty jar of moonshine who has to go with the public defender hasn’t paid his telephone bill for the mobile home in the trailer park he lives in.

Tennesseans.  Fucking their sisters and drinking moonshine since 1796.  Where would the Confederacy have been without them?

Wonder If They’d Think The Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles Are The Four Horsemen…

BHUBANESWAR, India (Reuters) – Hundreds of poor Hindu villagers in eastern India have refused to hand over a rare turtle to authorities, saying it is an incarnation of God, officials said on Tuesday.

I bet if you showed up there with an IPhone they’d think you were God’s God.

Villagers chanting hymns and carrying garlands, bowls of rice and fruits are pouring in from remote villages to a temple in Kendrapara, a coastal district in eastern Orissa state.

So this is basically their equivalent of a Hannah Montana concert.

Policemen have struggled to control the gathering and have failed to persuade the villagers to give up the sea turtle.

No SWAT team for that over there, huh?

“We have asked the villagers to hand it over as it is illegal to confine a turtle, but they are refusing,” said P.K. Behera, a senior government wildlife official.

“It is illegal to confine a turtle”.

Ummm…okay.

Why?

Does one really need to confine a turtle?  You could leave in the morning, go to work, come home, and you’d be lucky if it moved five yards.

The turtle is protected in India and anyone found keeping one without permission can be jailed for a year or more and fined.

Can you eat any animal in India?  Don’t they understand the food chain?

But adamant villagers have refused to give up the reptile, saying the turtle bears holy symbols on its back and is an incarnation of Lord Jagannath, a popular Hindu deity.

“Lord Jagannath has visited our village in the form of a turtle. We will not allow anybody to take the turtle away,” said Ramesh Mishra, a priest of the temple.

Wow.  A can of paint and a turtle and you could fuck these people up for life.

 

So You Think YOU’RE Having A Bad Fucking Day?

Remember that story back in February about the woman who had a friend who, for some reason, had a monkey?

And the monkey ate her face off?

That’s not even embellishing the story, that’s more or less what happened.  Curious George may look all cute and friendly in cartoons, but in the real world, monkeys will eat your fucking face off.  The Man in the Yellow Hat would soon be called The Man With No Face Because He Was Fucking Stupid Enough To Keep a Wild Animal As a Pet.

Not as catchy, but apt.

I mean, he is Curious George.  Sooner or later he’s going to be curious as to what human flesh tastes like.

Anyhow, after keeping herself hidden from the world, she’s finally revealed herself to the world.  Before the big reveal, here’s what she looked like before the monkey ate her face off:

And now, post monkey eating face:

Yeah.  I’m trying to be somewhat flip about this to offset the absolute horror because Jesus Christ if a monkey ever gets within 50 yards of me and it’s not inside a cage, I will take my 9mm and empty the clip into its monkey brains.

This is why you don’t keep wild animals as pets.  Just ask Sigfried or Roy.  Whichever one got attacked by the tiger.

You know, the gay one.

Oh.  That probably doesn’t narrow it down.

The only upshot to this?  She states she’s not in any pain.

Of course, she is suing the state of Connecticut for $150 million dollars, apparently for being a dumb ass hanging around with a friend who has a monkey as a pet.  I suppose if Bruce Banner was my friend and I kicked him in the balls and the Hulk ate my face, I could sue the state I was living in, too.

However.  Let this be a lesson to all of us.  For starters, no matter how fucking bad you think your day is, you can always be grateful that a monkey didn’t eat your face.  Second, even though the economy is tough and you may be struggling, between having $150 million dollars and having a face, pick having the face every time.  You’d be surprised how many doors will open up for you just because you have a face.

 

Now I Know How Websites Make Money

Well, not this one because it’s not set up for that, but despite my not having posted anything since last week, I’m getting between 100-180 hits per day.

Why?  Is it my biting sarcasm?  My writing skills?  My scuzzy good looks?

No.

It’s because The Pedestal must have gotten onto some search engine list that drives people to it when they’re looking for the things listed below.

I don’t know what’s more disturbing.  The fact that Superman beats out Lucy Pinder or that someone is looking for Superman Porn.

So those of you who have gotten here with your pants around your ankles looking for some Superman Porn, I’m sorry to disappoint but please.  Feel free to have a look around after you zip up and wash your hands.

Today

Search	Views
superman	37
lucy pinder	34
valerie bertinelli	6
eddie van halen’s father	2
mackenzie phillips	2
superman ‘porn	2
nicolas cage superman	2
lucy pinder video	1
“mackenzie phillips”	1
lucy pinder pictures	1
superman t shirt	1

Is Ft. Hood the Columbine of the 21st Century?

We\’ve grown accustomed–or at least as accustomed as one can get–to our schools being potential massacre sites.

Are our military bases next?

The shooter’s alive, but not talking to authorities.  Still, the fact he’s alive means we may know why he decided to do this.

Yet…what if there is no reason?  No understandable, rational, sane reason?

There’s a great part in The Dark Knight were Bruce Wayne, trying to understand the Joker’s motives, hits a wall.  Alfred tells him a story:

Alfred Pennyworth: A long time ago, I was in Burma, my friends and I were working for the local government. They were trying to buy the loyalty of tribal leaders by bribing them with precious stones. But their caravans were being raided in a forest north of Rangoon by a bandit. So we went looking for the stones. But in six months, we never found anyone who traded with him. One day I saw a child playing with a ruby the size of a tangerine. The bandit had been throwing them away.

Bruce Wayne: Then why steal them?

Alfred Pennyworth: Because he thought it was good sport. Because some men aren’t looking for anything logical, like money. They can’t be bought, bullied, reasoned or negotiated with. Some men just want to watch the world burn.

Nowadays it seems like too many people just want to watch the world burn.  It seems like too many people just don’t want to end their own lives, but want to take out as many others as they can with them.

And if that’s true, God help us all.  You can’t predict chaos.  You can only deal with the aftermath.