I do everything I can to avoid being on the phone when I can help it - especially when it's anything where I have to spend time on hold or talk to people who really have no information that I need.
So I registered with my insurance company to look up some benefit information, because when you call, the people at Kaiser always talk to you like you're five.
"You're with Kaiser now, so..." And I want to reply, "Yes, I know - I'm fucked!"
Maybe I should ask a 5-year-old to call and see if they talk to her like she's 32?
Anyway, you know how you're always asked security questions to confirm your password or whatever. Kaiser's first question for me: "Which of the following aircraft have you owned?"
Um - what the fuck? "None."
Second question: "In what city does S- H- live or own property?" And they were asking about my dad's ex-wife!!! The wicked ex-stepmother! "I DO NOT KNOW THIS PERSON!!!!!" OK, that really was the choice, but it didn't have capitals or exclamation marks, or the option of adding your my opinion (obviously.)
I find this very creepy, needless to say. When I think of Big Brother, I don't think of her, but then again, they do share a fair amount of irrationality and psychotic reasoning.
But strange things have been happening this week. I think the heat is melting my brain, although a slight respite today may have put some gray matter back. The other night I was trying to rationalize dessert for the second night in a row, and Mr. RK said, "I'm thinking of a word that begins with r, ends with g..."
And I blurt out, "Ratfucking?"
He started at me. "RATIONALIZING!!!"
We both almost fell out of bed laughing.
Speaking of laughing, there is an asshole in Lewis County, Washington, who owns this sign, which we saw driving back from Tacoma earlier this month:
I'm thinking two inches, fully erect.