There’s an email in my inbox that I will never read.
That’s because I can guarantee my last email wasn’t read. Or, at least, received.
Two different things.
Everyone gets the final say, this way.
/* BEGIN IMAGE CSS */ body { background: url(http://www.caterwauling.com/blog/wp-content/themes/purple-abstraction/images/bg.png) no-repeat bottom right; background-attachment: fixed; background-color: #000000;} #page { background: url(http://www.caterwauling.com/blog/wp-content/themes/purple-abstraction/images/background.png) repeat-y top; border: none; } #header { background: url(http://www.caterwauling.com/blog/wp-content/themes/purple-abstraction/images/header.png) no-repeat bottom center; } #footer { background: url(http://www.caterwauling.com/blog/wp-content/themes/purple-abstraction/images/footer.png) no-repeat bottom; border: none;} #header { padding: 0px; height: 135px; width: 800px; } #headerimg { margin: 0px 0px 0px ; height: 135px; width: 800px; } /* END IMAGE CSS */
There’s an email in my inbox that I will never read.
That’s because I can guarantee my last email wasn’t read. Or, at least, received.
Two different things.
Everyone gets the final say, this way.
1. Videos that autoplay. Related: Commercials that are too loud. Either way, I’m super sensitive to noise. And I can’t focus with multiple audio stimuli.
2. Chicago style. Hate it. New company uses it. If it’s the worst thing about the job, I still win. But still. HATE.
3. Hey. It is not a greeting. Hay is for horses. (And grass is for people.)
Bonus one for the times: I have always hated people who take their extended family to the grocery store. Now that my idiot governor has reopened the state, shopping for ingredients for quarantine cuisine has gotten even more dangerous. Dumb little fucks (and not so little) running around in masks like this is a game. A thousand people in Target on Saturday. I don’t like people within six feet of me on a GOOD day. If I want to get pushed around, I’ll go log into my fake social media account on the laptop I don’t use and drop an anti-Trump bomb. Same ick factor, without the cooties. Jesus, people. Are you so starved for touch and attention that I somehow seem like a reliable source?