EekCard

Wow! The people behind the fake ECards are getting smart. Really really smart. They sent me one that I thought someone who was smarter than your average virus-infested bear might click on. It actually looked halfway convincing. Halfway? More like three-quarters of the way convincing.

It was an html email, right down to the link that says “click here to pick up your card” instead of the link that was just a string of numbers that led to an IP of certain doom. It looked exactly like a Hallmark page. It had their privacy policy, or at least something that said it was a link to the privacy policy. It had slogans of theirs. It had navbars. It was the hallmarkiest fake card that you ever would see. Their only mistake was misspelling receive. But hell, legitimate businesses can’t tell the difference between then and than these days, so that’s not even a horrible mistake.

I figured this was a fake because it didn’t say who sent me this glorious joy-filled, or more like virus-filled ECard, so I copied the shortcut that said “click here” to notepad. sure enough, it was not a card. It linked to an exe file, and instead of being hosted on some obscure Russian server somewhere like I was expecting, it’s being hosted on the Air Jamaica Jazz and Blues website. What the? I’d go there and let them know they’ve been hacked and are being used to spread viruses, but…I don’t know how much of their site is taken over, and I don’t want to find out. I know I have protection, but why put it to the ultimate test and find out what parts fail? That’s for the professional supergeeks with test machines to do. I just wanted to let others know about this devious new twist so they don’t unwittingly turn their computer into a test machine.

Attention all ECaard companies. You’re screwed. Face it. You’re done. Thanks to this stupid virus, nobody with any sense will ever open one of these cards ever again. Oh yeah. Most people don’t have sense. I guess you can carry on.

A Long-Overdue Trixie Post

Man it’s been a long time since I wrote anything about the Trixter. Let me look back and see when I last wrote about her. Oh god! I mentioned her in passing last week, but it’s been almost a month since she got a full post! Good lord! The sad thing is some of these things have been in my head since that time and I just hadn’t written them down. So off we go.

You’ll be happy to know that Trixie’s tail is all better, and got better pretty quickly. Within a couple of days, she had a moderate wag, and within a week, she was bak to her morning flop and snort routine. In those first few days, it was sad to watch her try and wag, and figure out exactly how much she could wag without pain. She would get going really furiously, and then you could tell she overdid it, and all waggling would stop. Poor thing.

I also learned that Trixie went to the Babs school of pill-spitting. For a while, because of a small skin infection she developed, she had to take antibiotics. for the first couple of days, she would swallow the pill pretty quickly and that would be that. But after a while, she decided that she didn’t want these pills after all, and she was going to refuse to take them. She wouldn’t take them if I hid them in her food, she wouldn’t take them with a treat, nothing was going to work. She would even wait a few seconds, long enough for the pill to start dissolving, I would walk away, and then I would hear a familiar tui! And there would be the pill on the floor, the little rat. but the Trixter didn’t know that I also learned a lot about this little trick, so I didn’t go far, picked up the pill again, and oh boy did I stay long the next time! I won’t be stupid and find pills under tables days later, like in the Babs days. It especially sucked when I found pills after they had taken Babs back. All I could think was, well I guess she missed a few doses then. I felt so negligent, but what could I do?

She has a good memory for people I know. I love it. She’ll let me know if someone I know is nearby. One day, the rental agent for the building was in the parking lot. After we’d done what we wanted and were coming back in, she started walking the direction we always do, and then stopped beside the rental agent as if to say, “Did you want to speak to her?” She also remembers cars we’ve ridden in, and I think she’s starting to recognize the colours of the cabs we always take when we have to take cabs. Plus, here’s something fluky. I think she’s figured out which numbers on the caller ID mean someone is buzzing us! I could be full of crap, but every time that number comes over the talking caller ID, she starts pacing and pointing her head at the door, even if I don’t make any definite movements towards it. I know that seems weird, but it happens, so what amI supposed to think?

Trixie is hillarious. Hmmm, have I ever said that before? Every time I pull something out of my bag, or my drawer, or my cupboard, or anywhere, she thinks it’s a toy for her! She is especially fond of my bank card, or my credit card, or things coming out of shipping boxes, or anything small and electronic. No amount of convincing seems to work to tell her no matter how much she sniffs my memory stick, it still won’t become hers.

She’s had her first bath. Now that was an interesting experience! Getting her into the tub was a challenge. She stared at it as if to say, “Nope! You can forget it! You want me to go in there? No no no no! You can stuff that idea right quick….unless…treats! Mmm!” and then she was in. How easy it is to bribe the Trixter. She was pretty good in there, but I got very wet trying to get her washed. Of course, at the end, she played her good old attack the towel game for a long time as I tried to dry her off. I was so happy she didn’t sprain her tail again! I must have done something right, she smells much better again! So there’s another milestone I never got with Babs. Trixie got her first bath.

Also, the toy I bought a month ago is still very much alive. There are marks, but it isn’t caving in yet. A few bones have died, but we still have some left.

Trixie’s even gotten me un-lost a couple of times. Once, I was out playing with her on the big lawn, and don’t ask me how, but I ended up out at a sidewalk. I put the harness on her, and told her to find home. She didn’t find home exactly, I think because home was behind us, but she made a couple of turns and got us back out on the main sidewalk so I knew where I was. Now that’s cool!

I notice more and more that I like taking her on brand new adventures. I’ll go somewhere I’ve never been with someone, and it doesn’t stress me out that I’m just following their directions to go where we’re going. I know Trixie will work like a little trooper. She’ll have her moments, of course, but every day, she gets more and more awesome!

I’m such a loser. I still count the weeks I’ve had her home. We’re up to 21 of ’em now. It won’t be long until I’ve had her for half a year! Can anyone believe that? I sure can’t.

More ADA Guide Dog Goodness!

Oh boy. First I was mad because regular folk could pretend their pets were service animals, and now I find out we’re getting screwed over by blind people too!

Are you confused? I was at first. This is how it went. A couple got guide dogs from Leader dogs, another guide dog school. They were reported to have been abusing the dogs. The school sent someone out, and yanked the dogs’ certifications to be guide dogs. They felt they weren’t good as guide dogs anymore. They took the harnesses and ID cards, but let them keep the dogs! Why? If the dogs were being abused, wouldn’t you take the dogs?

Now, the couple want to exploit the hole in the ADA that I mentioned before to use their dogs as guides anyway! Hello, imbeciles, are you trying to get yourselves killed? These dogs don’t come cheap, so if the school revoked their certifications, there must be a reason for it. I know a cane doesn’t feel the same as a dog, but you can suffer through having a cane until you get trained with a dog who *is* fit to guide. Just remember, after you get hit by a car because your dog didn’t know what to do, that a mangled body certainly doesn’t work the same way as a perfectly good one either.

Home Cosmetic Surgery?

Ok, explain this one to me. You decide you need cosmetic surgery. You find a couple who say they’ll do it for a reasonable rate. You are brought to their office and find that their office is actually a filthy house filled with drugs and syringes and four children running around in it and you still agree to go under the knife? Why! Quelle surprise, the patients of this home plastic surgeon, Ha Nguyen, who had no medical license, end up with disfiguring scars. At least she did one good thing for the world. The really stupid can be readily identified by the marks she’s left on them.

Click Here to Continue The Service

There was a vicar in England who:

  • spat in a paritioner’s face
  • posted supposedly confidential cards where people had written their innermost thoughts
  • had a bad temper and bullied people on the church board
  • would not comfort paritioners when their parents died
  • but no one said anything until he…

  • delivered the Christmas day service in Powerpoint!

*gasp* What a horrible thing to do! Now, a tribunal has assembled to decide what to do with him, and the slideshow sermons seem to be the major issue. Uh, shouldn’t those other things go higher on the list? I can understand it being the straw that broke the camel’s back, but the way the story was worded, it was like that was their major problem. People are weird.

Criminal Cat?

Steve and I were talking about ASBO’s because of that story about that man who just loves hospital gowns and he told me about an ASBO being issued to a cat! Yep, it goes meow, claw, spit, hiss, chases string and anything that moves, including the neighbours in this one’s case, and it has a criminal record.

Why why why? I understand why something had to be done. This cat apparently was spontaneously biting and scratching people. But an ASBO? Isn’t there some kind of animal-related thing they could use? And they decided the cat needed Prozac. Ok then.

I think the best quote was his owner saying that the cat is “a cat’s cat.” Then why are you keeping him in the city? If he doesn’t like people and likes to be all wild and unrestrained, maybe he doesn’t need an ASBO. Maybe he needs a new home. Let him live in a barn chasing mice or something.

Don’t Wizz On The Central Air Vents!

Every time I think about this search result, I giggle, then gag. Does that mean I gaggle? Har.

02 Sep, Sun, 20:51:24     
Google
:  If dog urinates on the outside central air conditioning unit is it possible the strong smell,feel of urine can go through the whole house?

I don’t have an answer, but in response to your question, I have more questions. Did your dog just piss on the central air vent? That has gotta suck! If that’s what just happened, have the days that followed given you an answer to your question? Where do central air vents hang out? Would it be easy for a dog to pee on it? Or did it have to go through some acrobatics to get there?

I wish I had an actual answer for the question. All I’ve gotta say is if this poor soul is searching for an answer, he’s, well, barking up the wrong tree by clicking here. The sad thing is we’re actually near the top of the results for that queery, and by posting this, I just pushed us higher. Oh dear. Hope life doesn’t stink too much for our googling friend.

Don’t Take that Born To Be Wild Thing Too Seriously There, Buddy!

Justin Patterson led police on a high-speed chase through two counties. Was he drunk? No. Did he have warrants? Nope. Why was he going so fast and driving like a complete moron? He was late for his test to get his motorcycle license. Well, after being charged with reckless driving, speeding 130 mph in a 55 mph zone, fleeing or attempting to elude police, failure to maintain a lane, leaving
the scene of an accident and passing in a no-passing zone, I think he’ll have to be a lot later for that appointment.

Rock Bottom

This story starts off pretty boring. Michael Marburger was a successful salesman of medical equipment who then found himself addicted to booze and gambling, and fired from his job. So, to feed his addiction, he started stealing medical equipment. But the only medical equipment he stole was, well, colonoscopes. He would march right into 22 different hospitals in various states pretending to be a salesman or a hospital employee, go straight to the room where the thing was, and snatch it.

Why? Why only them? What the hell? Are they the most expensive piece of medical equipment? Does he have a fascination with them? He must, if he knows exactly where they are in so many places. I mean, if you’re selling all kinds of medical equipment, you don’t have a hope in hell of remembering where each piece is hanging out in each hospital. Did the loan sharks tell him they’d take his debts out of his ass, and that’s what gave him the idea?

either way, he’s going to prison for three years. I’m sure he’ll learn lots about taking it up the butt.

Know My Name By Fear Or By Respect.

Wow, this girl needs to relax. Apparently, after a poor unfortunate family friend, who is probably no longer a family friend, mispronounced Megan Jane Conroy’s name, she kicked him in the nads, sending him to the hospital with severe genetal bruising. Nobody can explain this outburst, she’s never been this way before.

Dear little Megan, if I could count the ways people have butchered my last name, not to mention my first name, I’d have quite the list of casualties.

What’s with all the weirdness. Is it a full moon?