Why You Can't Win PCH Miillions or the Connecticut Lottery

     First of all, Publishers Clearing House wants you to buy something, anything from the pile of trashy ads enclosed in your “winning” entry form. If you follow the instructions and paste up all the little ads designated to be pasted in certain squares (something any 3^rd grader could do), then you feel confident you might win the millions for the rest of your life.

     The odds against the big win are phenomenal. You are more likely to be struck by lightning while standing under a tree in the rain. Or hit by a falling star from the sky. Or crushed by a steam shovel at a construction site. YOU CANNOT WIN THE JACKPOT!

     PCH was indicted some years ago for dumping all its entries in the garbage. They managed to redeem this “error” by promising not to do it again. Ha ha ha. Try telling President Trumpty Dumpty not to tell anymore lies. Go ahead. I dare you. This psychopath just can’t help himself; he manifests lies faster than a humming bird flies. Which rhymes with lies.

     The Connecticut Lottery sells a scratch-off card for $30 that says it is giving you 30 chances to win. Wait a minute. How about 30 chances to lose? I’ve purchased one card a month for the past year and once won $30. Only once. Big deal. I got my money back to buy another card and lose again. But I had 30 chances to lose, not win.

     So, shame on the PCH Lottery and the CT Lottery for their disingenuous  advertising. It barely stays on the line of good faith, sneaking over to the one that spells FRAUD!

Don't you just hate those telephone pitch calls?

     Sometimes the phone rings at 8 am when I'm fast asleep. It is usually a robot telling me that my pill order  is being filled and should be received within ten days. Or a reminder that I have a doctor's appointment a week later. The most recent 9 am caller was an offer from ARTHUR MURRAY'S DANCE STUDIO telling me I had just won three free lessons.
     As I rolled over in bed, phone in hand, I explained that I only had one leg (I had majored in lying at TRUMP UNIVERSITY). While the young lady gushed apologies, I interrupted with, "how about pole dancing instead?" She hung up with a thud and a curse. One more scammer. But I'm off their list.
     Now what about those offensive calls and stupid surveys or fund raisers who keep 90% of the proceeds? I answer in French:  "Bonjour, parlez-vous Francais?" They hardly speak English, not French, maybe Spanish or Farsi. Nevertheless, my fractured French tongue (no pun intended) has severed one more connection.
      There is a national DO NOT CALL service that lists your telephone number, and is designed to prevent telemarketers and pitchers, along with scammers, to call you. I've been on that list for ten years and received hundreds of calls, if not thousands. So I'm not going to reveal the number to call.
     My final indefensible commentary concerns The Internet per se. That is, how to build a wall around your ears and eyes so you don't see or hear the scams bombarding you 24/7.
      First, with Android Systems, choose Marshmallow.com, followed by Nougat.pdf, then Lollipop Only God Knows, highlighted by Messenger and ending with Spam.
     If the latter suggestion is driving you crazy, take an aspirin, have a nap and thank me for the therapy. Prozac also helps. No charge for this advice.
     
    

THE DOWNFALL OF DONALD J. TRUMP!

             

                         

      If you saw and heard the alleged President of the USA give a speech from the packed auditorium in Phoenix on August 22, 2017, and felt distressed over his phony rhetoric, you were not alone. And you were among the millions fearful of the future as America slides into a huge black hole.

     Banks will fail, shopping malls close one after the other, climate changes daily from 115 in western states during long summers to lows of 30 below during winter months. Home bankruptcy becomes highest ever as people lose their jobs and families sleep in their cars or shelters.

     This is hell on earth. Even the fat calves are selling their jewelry to buy food and gas. Sour hedge funds have wiped out all their money. Willy Nelson’s “Brother Can You Spare A Dime?” and “I Ain’t Got No Pot To Piss In” are at the top of the Billboard chart. Woe is everybody!

     But there is a flicker of hope. The Special Prosecutor, Bob Mueller and his seventeen attorneys, have followed the Trump money trail and are now ready to impanel a Grand Jury to issue subpoenas and file indictments.

     “President” Trump is not immune from being charged with a number of felonies. And that means jail time. Imagine this overweight golden haired meat head in an orange jumpsuit, followed by Junior and Jared?

     However, wait. There is Vice-President Pence eager to sit in the Oval Office. And then as PRESIDENT OF THE USA he can pardon the whole family with one sweep of the official White House pen that doesn’t leak! But he too gets indicted for graft.

     Fortunately, there have been a few dozen leaks in the White House, witnesses who will now testify and help convict The Donald under RICO, the criminal law that sends liars to maximum secure prisons.

     While the Republican wimps cower at home, afraid to attend public forums that include rioting, fearful of envelopes received with white powder and taking their kids out of school because their peers will “beat the crap out of them.”

     So where do we go from this point on? Remember Hillary Clinton who won the election by four million popular votes? She is waiting in the wings for a Congressional Amendment to lead America from the Oval Office.

     Mrs. Clinton deserves a Pulitzer Prize for her book, “What Happened,” and a MacArthur Genius Award for her resilience against the “Immoral Monster.”

                          

WHY IS AMAZON.COM A SUCKER TRAP?

                            

     Because they are a very deep sucker trap. They not only entice innocents to make purchases, but they remind you of other items you’ve purchased elsewhere and crappy stuff they have, in the spirit of Publishers Smearing House. Another deceitful despot!!!

     So I was urged to take their idiotic survey and receive a free gift.  I tried to delete as SCAM. That doesn’t work anymore; it’s another sucker trap to keep you on board their slippery ingenuous treadmill to oblivion. But mostly to invade your debit card account. (And every month they will surreptitiously deduct from your bank!).

     After I failed the survey….I refused to buy anything or say something positive…..just my usual gobbledygook that drives a stupid person nuts….I was offered my choice from any one of the following FREE PRIZES:

1.     A skin cleaner to make you feel younger and adds years to your life. (I was 60 yrs. old when I once bit on that pitch; it made me feel 65 afterwards.)  There was only one bottle left if I wanted it. No thanks.

2.     30-Day Anti-aging skin goop. Only 2 bottles left. I was told to hurry up and grab one. Instead, I grabbed a towel as I was about to puke.

3.     Weight Loss Kit. Contains everything you need to lose those extra tummy pounds. Only 3 kits left. I declined.

4.     Male Enhancement Cream. Makes you bigger, wider, taller and much, much harder. Also has staying power!  B.S. from Boston said: “I poked my bitch six times in four hours and remained erect for another two hours! It sure was painful for her trip to ER.” (No cream left, but emergency supplies are on the way). Forget it!

     With all the skimming, scamming and conning over the Internet, being forewarned is being forearmed!

WHY WE SHOULD DUMP THE TRUMPS AND CLEAN UP THE WHITE HOUSE

WHY WE SHOULD DUMP THE TRUMPS AND CLEAN THE WHITE HOUSE

     If you saw and heard the alleged President of the USA give a speech from the packed auditorium in Phoenix on August 22, 2017, and felt distressed over his pandering rhetoric, you were not alone. And you were among the millions fearful of the future as America slides into a huge black hole.

     Banks will fail, shopping malls close one after the other, climate changes daily from 115 in western states during long summers to lows of 30 below during winter months. Home bankruptcy becomes highest ever as people lose their jobs and families sleep in their cars or shelters, if they can find a vacancy.

     This is hell on earth. Even the fat calves are selling their jewelry to buy food and gas. Sour hedge funds have wiped out all their money. “Brother Can You Spare A Dime?” and “I Ain’t Got No Pot To Piss In” are at the top of the Billboard chart. Woe is everybody!

     But there is a flicker of hope. The Special Prosecutor, Bob Mueller and his twelve attorneys, have followed the Trump money trail and are now ready to impanel a Grand Jury to issue subpoenas and file indictments against the entire Trump family.

     “President” Trump is not immune from being charged with a number of felonies. And that means jail time. Imagine this overweight golden haired meat head in an orange jumpsuit, followed by Junior and Jared?

     However, wait. There is Vice-President Pence eager to sit in the Oval Office. And then as PRESIDENT OF THE USA he can pardon the whole family with one sweep of the official White House pen that doesn’t leak! Then he too gets indicted for graft.

     Unfortunately, there have been a few dozen leaks in the White House, witnesses who will now testify and help convict The Donald under RICO, the criminal law that sends people to maximum secure prison doing hard labor.

     While the Republican wimps cower at home, afraid to attend public forums that include rioting, fearful of the envelopes being received with white powder and home schooling their kids because their peers are told by parents to “beat the crap out of them.”

     So where do we go from this point on? Remember Hillary Clinton who won the election by three million popular votes? She is waiting in the wings for a Congressional Amendment, by both Houses, to award her the Oval Office.

                                   
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BOO HOO YAHOO ENGINEERS

      I adore the Internet (thanks to Al Gore?), especially word processing. In high school I could type 80 words a minute without errors, on a manual Underwood typewriter. That made me the teacher's pet. After 30 years with an IBM Electric typewriter, I ran out of ribbons.
     So I called Tom Watson, President of IBM in Armonk,NY to complain:
ME: Hello, this is Dr. Abel and I have Mr. Watson's X-rays......
SHE: Oh, Dr. I'll put you right through to Mr. Watson...
HE: Who the hell is this with my so-called X-rays!!!
ME: My name is Alan Abel and I need IBM typewriter ribbons now....
HE: (laughing) Very clever Dr. Quack. I'll have one of my secretaries take your order and send you some. No charge for this; you got through seven of my ladies in less time than the President of the USA last week. Nice going. Please don't try it again.
     I received a half-dozen ribbons in the mail and could continue using my trusty IBM for another year. Then the switch to a Model T type computer that was O.K. until I switched to an Apple iMac #10. There were lots of problems with my early Apple and even my  complaint to Steve Jobs didn't help.
     Now in this year of 2017 I am blessed with a fairly reliable upgraded iMac. My oomplaint is with the dropdown and popup ads. The small x in the upper right hand corner of the page to delete can hardly be seen. Then when I delete, my  screen turns dark and a robot message pleads with me to come back. No way! I hit the spam button and provide a polite curse with the action.
     But the BOO HOO YAHOO ENGINEERS title of this blog concerns an occasional blank home page and a big notice:  PLEASE BEAR WITH US. OUR YAHOO ENGINEERS ARE BUSY REPAIRING THE DAMAGE. THANK YOU FOR YOUR PATIENCE.
     That's my cue for a trip to the bathroom or kitchen. Or I just browse around on the internet and....low and behold....I've fixed whatever the trouble was. Maybe the Yahoo engineers had to go to the bathroom or the kitchen for a snack. Maybe I had better rephrase that last comment. Never mind!

How About A Pee Body Award?

     The prestigious Pee (pun intended) Body Award has been a valuable tradition with the University of Georgia for many years. It is a yearly function by the University's Director of Communications to award trophies to The Most Outstanding Radio or TV Program, The Second Most Outstanding Program and The Third Most Outstanding Program. These Awards are presented at a very special banquet on campus for winners, attended by a hundred  media executives.
     Every year there are many thousands of entries, with sample tapes and appropriate fees before the deadline. Then comes the task of Professor X to choose the winners. His role is changed every four years and I protect his identity for this essay, especially since he was a bold faced cheater!
     My former roommate in New York City was a graduate of the University of Georgia. Let's call him George (not his real name), because he is presently a highly respected antique dealer. During his four years in College, George assisted Professor X as an assistant, often conducting his classes. (Shhhh. The Statute of Limitations prevails in that and this revelation.)
     One Friday, when George was planning an outing with  friends,  he received a frantic phone call from Professor X: "Hey, George old buddy, I'm in deep shit trouble. The Peabody Awards Banquet is only three weeks and I have one week to pick the winners from 4,486 entries. Please come over to my house immediately and bail me out."
     Of course George rushed over on his bicycle and Professor X was waiting at the door, sweating profusely. He explained to George what he should do as he was also leaving Athens in an hour with his secret mistress for their weekend hideout in the woods: "Let's go downstairs to the basement where I have the entry tapes. Take a box full, I'll do the same and follow me upstairs."
     At the top of the stairs, Professor X tossed the tapes from his box down the stairs, all 40 of them, and told George to do the same. He did. Then they both stepped on tapes, held on to the rail, and cautiously made their way to the bottom of the stairs amid a dozen boxed program tapes.
     The Professor was now late for his departure and girlfriend X was honking her horn outside. He told George to pick out a few tapes at the bottom of the stairs, screen them, and then pick One, Two and Three in that order to win the Peabody Awards for the year!!!
     That's what George did that year, and for three more until he graduated with honors, recommended by Professor X. Hmmmm. I think it's called a conspiracy, obstruction of justice and disingenuous. So why don't we just call it The Pee Body Awards henceforth?