Darkside wrote:
So my wife calls the campground to make a reservation for 9/11/09. When they ask her which campsite we were interested in my wife asks for a more isolated one as we'll celebrating an anniversary. The lady says... "What the hell kind of anniversary are you celebrating?"
That story is a
deee-light!
Somewhat unrelated, I too have a story involving a criminally stupid Wisconsin woman. This one occurred at whatever Injun casino is somewhat close (I do not recall nor do I care to research it). I found myself going with my brother and his now ex (aka "the succubus") to play Bingo. Why I went, I don't know, but that's immaterial now.
Anyway, I found myself going to play Bingo.
As is apparently Bingo custom, in addition to the standard group of games you purchase cards for, there are ancillary games you can enter (for a fee, of course) in addition to the stock set of games. The one extra game in question here was a "fill out your own card" game ... that is to say, you were given a blank card and allowed to write-in the numbers you wanted, in accordance with standard Bingo numbering.
Being a novel concept, and me feeling that I was carrying a little too much money at the time, I purchased a card, filled it out, tore off the top copy (keeping the "carbon" copy for later play), and turned it in for proper verification - apparently, there are enough morons in the world (or at least Wisconsin) that think, for example, that the number "57" belongs under the "B", or perhaps instead of numbers they draw pictures of a cocks ... I don't really know, but whatever the case a verification process was mandatory.
I need to digress for a moment to point out that
my printing is very neat and clear; I write like a typewriter (e.g., my printed '1' is not just a plain vertical stroke, but with a line at the bottom and a half-flag at the top).
Also, what with my being a dirty Nazi kraut bastard, I use slashies in my "7"s, "Z"s, and "0"s. I mention this because it's important to know what my "1"s and "0"s look like handwritten. We now continue this saga, already in progress.
After turning in my card to the proper authorities for their official examination, a game or two progresses, and between games they start to call out the names of people they need to speak to about their cards. It was a long list, and I sat there making fun of these rubes that were apparently too stupid to complete such a simple task.
As I was entertaining those around me with my terribly witty remarks, all of the sudden I hear them call my name - causing my brother to immediately point and laugh as though they had passed around pictures of my pecker. This ridicule coming from a person who, when they write, looks as if he stuck the pen up his ass and wiggled his hips in an attempt to make markings that might more resemble Sanskrit rather than English. Most curious (and embarassed), I trundled my way to where the 'review panel' was standing.
After waiting for roughly half an eternity, I introduced myself and asked what the problem was. They said they were having a hard time reading my card - I could not help myself as I blurted out, "you must be joking" in a none-too-immodest way. Undaunted, she pressed on by saying they couldn't quite make out some of the numbers on my card. I asked could I see which ones she was having trouble with. Her response was: "Your zeroes look like your ones."
I'll repeat that.
Her response was "Your zeroes look like your ones."If you knew me, you would know that I have an unapologeticly immense propensity for blasting stupid people and when confronted by them I am overcome with an immediate need to "HULK SMASH" - though I am, of course, concurrently mindful that doing so generally leads to unwanted consequences, so, not unlike Homer Simpson, I generally internalize my anger, and yes I do have many an anger lump as a result.
Back to her statement --- hopefully you can see how painfully stupid it is. If not, please know that you have caused me to grow another anger lump, yet I will deign to explain it to you. The statement "your zeroes look like your ones" is not only grossly inaccurate, but also implies that they can, in fact, tell the zeroes and ones apart --- that is to say, they obviously could tell them from each other, otherwise they would have said "we can't tell what some of these numbers are" generally, rather than naming a couple of
very specific numbers.
The story ends with me standing there rewriting a new card using a quick, messy, and unadorned version of the numbers, her saying "that's
much better", and me hoping that a roving gang of large moose found her and shoved their antlers in any and every orrifice they could find on her. And, of course, me not winning and yelling "mother fuckers" rather loudly, even for me.
I know this is a strong "tl;dr" candidate, but I needed a reason to get my heartbeat above 4bpm, and recounting this tale of stupidity has done a fine job, though I do want to throw an office chair across the room now and yell various vulgaraties.
Now, get off my lawn and leave me alone.
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He lost his balls because he wants to take his wife out? Taking his wife out is a bad thing?
