Annoying as they can be, I sometimes find my spam mail amusing, mostly due to their attempts to personalize them, based on my domain name. And, well, this one just made me chuckle.
Can’t Bring Yourself to Type the Word “Ass”?
Eager to share our brilliant political commentary and blunt media criticism, but too genteel to link to horsesass.org? Well, good news, ladies: we also answer to HASeattle.com, because, you know, whatever. You're welcome!
That’s just perfect.
Wait a minute. This service will display advertisements on a personal navigation device?
Fuck almighty. Have we no decency?
From Politico:
That’d be self avowed Nazi sympathizer, Iott, who attended the same college as Hans Zeiger; Hillsdale College, home of the
whopperWINGNUT.Well, you just gotta love all of those phone apps:
Ads on your GPS lead to user IDs being attached, etc..
If that offer is good today, it’ll be good tomorrow, and next week, and next year.
One thing slick salespeople always try to do is create a sense of urgency. And Americans love a deal — it’s ingrained in our culture. (Detroit figured out 50 years ago that American car buyers will gladly pay $2,500 extra to get a $2,000 rebate.) So, the “today only” special has become a staple of American merchandising.
Have you ever seen a furniture store that wasn’t having a “Going Out Of Business” sale? I haven’t.
For pure harassment, I’ve never seen a company like Comcast. Over the last 10 years I’ve received at least 1,000 junk mailers from them (they average about 3 a week) and, in the last year, three Comcast salesmen at my door. By the way, they’re not paying for all those mailings — you are. Bulk mailers get postal subsidies at our expense in the name of promoting commerce.
I already get ass for horses info on my phone so why not. See my documentary.
(You’ll believe this is really me by my awesome writing style and my use of the word awesome. -Charles)
@2
The new Garmin’s have an advertising feature. Say you pass a certain distance from a TGI Friday’s, they’ll put a coupon on the screen.
If you want to enable the live traffic feature, you have to have the ads.
Oh, and you can only disable the live traffic feature if you’re connected to power increasing the likelihood that a user will actually be driving (Car Converter is the included power supply) while trying to get rid of the feature.
We welcome our advertiser supported technological conveniences.
I’ve been searching for a reason (other than maps) for never buying into the NAV bullshit.
Personally, the only thing more offensive than the “one-day sale” was the salesman who says that his “special discount price” is only good for right then, as soon as one of you walks out of the room it dissapears, and you have to pay full price. He’ll even argue that he’s forbidden to offer you a lower price later, because that would make his current offer “false advertising”.
Of course, what they want to do is to make sure you don’t have the opportunity to research the company and find the complaints filed against it, or price-check the competition, or just decide that it’s too expensive.
So as soon as I hear that line, the discussion is over. I end the sales presentation right then. I even warn the salesman at the start that if I hear that, then it’s over – yet they do it every time.
And once you’ve kicked them out the door (or left their office), a couple of days later you will get a call from their manager, asking for another chance, and promising that he can sell the product for a lower amount, or better terms, than the previous salesman offered.
Yes, Chuck, we know all about your horses and their Issaquah asses.
As for the ass who put corn in our gas, bring on duh ethanol, bring on duh noize. Garry Wills in NY Review, current issue, does Jimmy Peanut:
Jimmy Carter had hemorrhoids? Jimmy Carter was a hemorrhoid. Jimmy Carter is a hemorrhoid. A-men. Dis-cuss.
But wait. Jimmy’s diarrhea diary gets even better. First there’s his psychic hotline. Wills records that born-again Jimmy, again and again, shaped government policy around remote-viewing soothsayers. Nancy Reagan got flayed by the objective MSM for less, but Carter got a Nobel.
Then Rosalyn tried to dump the bitch. Not the paranormal on the payroll, but the other bitch. Jimmy.
Then there was the Bible Study, but you and Goldy know about that already.
Hey, wanna see me pull Rabbit out of a hat? Check out Confounding Fathers in the New Yorker. Wilentz tries to show that Beck and the rest of the Mad Hatter Tea Party are jonesing on John Birch historiography from back in the day. When Beck takes a dump on Woodrow Wilson, after brushing aside pellets from Our Rabbit who also dumps on Wilson, Beck is stealing his stand-up from Mormon Klingon Skousen and Robert Welch, who called Eisenhower a commie.
Back in the day. That would be back in my day. We used to make fun of a moonbat Birch John neighbor who really didn’t like Ike and who wanted to impeach Earl Warren, VP Nixon, and John Foster Dulles, all conscious agents of the global Zionist communist conspiracy.
Wilentz preposterously implies that we birther baggers are just like our old Bircher neighbor. He also implies that right-wing William F. Buckley, compared to right-wing candyman Welch, was almost sane and almost reasonable and responsible.
Tell it to Buckley, if you can find him. When Buckley ran for NYC mayor (that’s when he said he’d demand a recount if he won) reasonable and responsible leftist loontards like Wilentz were calling him the Bircher candidate. That’s two years after Dan Schorr accused Senator Goldwater, Jewish Episcopalian, of palling around with the Waffen SS. That’s when the always tolerant and compassionate left was calling everyone to the right of John Lindsay a Nazi Bircher.
Sort of like Doonesbury showing Gingrich as a bomb thrower while the rest of the left yells that it’s racist and impermissible to talk about Obama palling around with a real bomb thrower, Bill Ayers.
Re Wilson, the sick mean old man who was also a sick mean young man, there’s a pretty good book by a no-name writer whose name is David Pietrusza. It’s about 1920 when Wilson’s frump ruled the world.
Back in the day, before Schlesinger, Jr. and Laura Schlessinger, there was Arthur Schlesinger, Sr. He was a progressive and a historian. He colluded with other progressive historians to elevate progressive presidents to the pantheon where every one of them, from Jefferson-Jackson to HST, was conveniently called Great or Near Grrrrreat. Then Schlesinger put his presidents on a poster — great progressives at the top and Republican failures at the bottom with below-average Eisenhower — and sent ’em to grade schools where he sold his Democrats like sugar-bomb cereal.
Too bad Pietrusza wasn’t there to set old Arthur straight about Near-Great Progressive
Woodrow Wilson, who was a monster even before Glenn Beck made him one.
Pietrusza probably wouldn’t have made Schlesinger’s cut as an approved historiographer, but he tells a hell of a story. All of the delicious dish and dirt is here, or most of it: FDR’s Lucy — no, not Pudless Lucy; the other one. The one about whom Princess Alice said that Franklin deserved a break today and a playmate because he was married to the impossible Eleanor (who, by the way, is the lucky winner @53).
There’s FDR saying that he cut so many corners working for Wilson that he could have been put away for 999 years.
That he was waiting for the sailor of his dreams to come tap-dancing his way into his heart. Well, almost. What FDR did was try to cover up a buggery scandal at Portsmouth. Then he sent the “unlawful and unnatural” sailors back to their boats.
Then he looked the other way when his Navy’s Marines murdered and molested Haitians. Then he lied about writing Haiti’s constitution.
Then he lied about serving over there:
A legend in his own mind.
Then he picked up pieces of the leftist bomb thrower who tried to blow up Attorney General Palmer.
Those were the days, Pietrusza writes, when left-wing bombs were bursting in air from coast to coast. Blowing off the hands of a senator’s black maid. Going to Mr. Justice Holmes. Going to Seattle’s general-strike mayor Ole Hanson. Blowing up Wall Street … actually, about three dozen underpaid workers of the world on Wall Street.
But most of the bombs didn’t go. Most of them got stalled in the mail. Only the chronic incompetence of our Big Government Post Office kept things from getting really messy.
Good thing, because things were bad enough with all the “hysteria” and “paranoia” and “red scare” going around.