Thursday, May 29, 2008

two vignettes and a puppy

While procrastinating last weekend, I posted a couple of things on Craigslist that I've been meaning to sell, including my electric guitar — which I sold last night for a decent price to the first person who came to look at it, a very nice dude with huge arms. I even remembered where my amp and my cables were so he could test it. Good job Craigslist, good job Piehat.

However, there was also another guy who was interested in it. This guy initially wrote to me, after I'd already set up a time for the first guy to see the guitar, using text-speak and confusing commas with periods (seriously, he used commas as an ellipsis more than once, to the extent that I think it must just be his schtick, and yes I am a snob and this did prejudice me against him). I sent him a one-sentence email telling him I had someone coming over in the evening but I'd let him know if the sale fell through. It didn't, so I just deleted his email. Then he sent a second hysterical email, saying he was flying into Santa Barbara today and he wanted to know what happened and including two (2) of his phone numbers so that I could call him and tell him. Yeeeeeah. I sent another one-sentence reply telling him it had sold. His response was:
"thanks for the email,,,,,at least i deserve a pic from amanda right?lol"
I figured he was right — after all of that hard work he did hitting the ,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,, key. So I sent him this one. (NSFW, not that anyone reading this checks their email at work. But seriously. Don't do it. Shosh, I think you might not want to look at that one at all.)

No response yet.

* * *

In other news, a doctor told me this morning that because I have the specific kind of migraines I have, I never should have been prescribed birth control pills in the first place, because my risk for a stroke is significantly increased. If only the doctors at Sansum who prescribed me birth control pills six different times had said the same thing, even once, I would be a much happier person right now. Instead, I get to go see a second doctor next week to find out whether he thinks it's better for me to risk having a stroke or be so depressed I can't function in the world. Awesome, right?

But hey, look, it's a puppy!

And please, for the love of god, do not forget whistle dog.

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