Blessed by the Potato

By now if you own a radio you’ve doubtlessly heard the song that basically wails “does that make me crazy?” On endless repeat like that, I find it gets really annoying. However today I noticed that the song tends to play in the morning when my alarm goes off, and its undue popularity is handy, because when you’re half asleep playing snooze button basketball, asking yourself “does that make me crazy?” is a good question…

I’m really pissed off at a few online stores and their “click to enlarge” links. Usually, a click to enlarge link is present because they’re using a thumbnail that’s too small to see anything on, so you want to enlarge the image to see more. So logical it hurts. Usually, the enlarged image appears in a pop-up window, sometimes it replaces the screen you’re viewing at the moment. But the key factor is that the image should be larger than the one you were just looking at.

I was just shopping at creepedout.ca for some Halloween stuff, and saw that they had a Zombie Pirate makeup kit, which sounds just perfect. The thumbnail image is 100×80 pixels. So, of course, I clicked to enlarge… and a window popped up with an image that was 135×104 pixels. It was so small (and in a new window) that I at first thought the “enlarged” image was simply the original thumbnail again. But, oh no, it was technically a larger image, but by such a small margin that I have to wonder why they bothered. It just pisses me off.

What else pisses me off? Taking 3 days to write a course syllabus and prepare a few lectures to find out that you’re not getting paid for the course (or rather, that “you’re already being paid”). My first class today went fairly well (except, of course, that it took the full 2 hours and I really was hoping to end the first one early). The rest, I doubt, will go as smoothly, because if I’m not getting paid for it, I really don’t feel like spending my weekends & evenings preparing. I’ve got a thesis/research to do (and already too much of that!).

Once again, I follow on BoingBoing’s coattails to bring you:

Bomb Or Not?

And perhaps even more scary, this story of identity theft.

I just had a chance to look at the car. To my untrained eye, I would say it was actually stolen by a different person. The lock had been jimmied rather than punched, and the ignition was hotwired differently (oddly enough, it’s going to be about $400 cheaper to repair this time thanks to that… only $1100. Ugh). They left all their tools behind, including a huge Mastercraft ratchet set (there were like 200 little socket wrench attachments in the backseat), and a screwdriver (it seems like they decided the best way to not forget their fingerprint-laden screwdriver was to punch it through the leather seats, then left it behind it anyway). I also now have yet another hole in my passenger seat.

They *tried* to steal the radio, apparently with the screwdriver. It’s all scratched up and the bezel has been torn off (that plastic ring-type thing that goes around it so it looks like it fits in the dash better than it does). My theory is that the dried-on coke syrup helped cement it in place and they just couldn’t move it. We couldn’t turn it on to see if they left a CD behind or not, but they did take the CD I had in there out, and smash it to bits.

Perhaps most importantly, they left behind a pair of sunglasses and a piece of what I would term “novelty photo ID”: a photo ID pass card for a skateboarding competition. Assuming it’s not a plant, my car was stolen by a 16 year old (FUGLY FUGLY) s8tergrrl named Daniella (if only they had last name & address for the competition…). This time, the cops actually were interested and came to collect the stuff (though they did send the youngest, most confused officer I’ve ever seen. I had to coach him a bit on how to do some evidence collection, and he still didn’t think anyone would do anything with it). Unfortunately, the cop was the one who discovered the pass and most of the other stuff, and I just caught glimpses over his shoulder, so no photos handy, I’m afraid.

To get the $10 emergency gas money I usually leave in my ashtray, she ripped the thing right out, and worse than the last guy that did: I don’t think that’s going back in. So to get $10 and a joy ride/break & enter escape vehicle for the night, she cost me over $1000 in damages and more than a week’s worth of worry (more, in fact, since now I’m thinking I don’t feel comfortable in the car and want to sell it). I hope they catch the little psychopath. She also put her muddy feet on the dash.

I forgot to check a few things before the mechanics took the car in: one was to see if the seat/mirror position had been changed: it might have also given us an estimate of how tall the driver was. Another was to see how much gas/mileage was on it: I know I left the car with about 1/4 of a tank after getting back from Toronto on the long weekend.

My car’s been stolen again! The police haven’t recovered it yet, and I’m waiting for them to call back to make a full report… but the MO is exactly the same: another stolen car was dumped in front of my place, and mine was stolen. I hope the fuckers actually investigate it this time (or better yet, catch the bastard before he dumps it).

This time my poker set wasn’t in it, but my beloved frisbee was, as well as some pop that was too heavy to carry up on Monday night. At least there’s no salt to dump.

I briefly thought about GPS locators and flame throwers and all that jazz after the last time, but now I’m considering it more seriously. Heck, even something low-tech along the lines of a photo-ID bumper sticker. A picture of me saying “Hi, I’m [Potato], and this is my Honda. If you see anyone else driving this car, call the police.” It might get my car keyed a bit more once people know it’s mine (after I start teaching, that is), but it might be worth it.

My landlord scolded me for not getting a Club, and it was really dumb, too. I actually went to Canadian Tire to pick one up, and the Canadian Tire by my place had closed down and moved out without notice. I completely forgot to try again at another store. Man do I feel dumb.