Perpetually Peeved

Spam is only good in fried rice

It’s true.  Spam fried rice is actually pretty amazing.  Spam of the email variety, however, is not. I feel like my mailbox, my inbox, my life is full of spam.  

What do you mean no one really wants to reconnect with me on  But the email said…

Now, I have one more way to get spam… in my comments box at WordPress.  Luckily, they have a filter that catches them for you.  But, still, it is so disappointing when you think you have a legit comment and it’s spam. I was going through said filter and came across this.  It was so classic, I almost approved it.  Then I thought, why put out a potentially harmful virus for the sake of a good laugh?  I’ll just convert it to a picture.  Because, really, I want to find this person and hang out with them.  

Best. Spam. Ever. (that is not mixed in with rice, egg and peas)

Scottish porn, Kristin Chenoweth nude, amateur microkini, adult diaper tights, fifths disease and adult symptoms, mature brotha lovers, pregnant women on antidepressants, and adult match maker Australia.  If you throw in some jello shots, it sounds a lot like a party I had back in college.  

The spam discovery prompted me to further investigate the stats available on WordPress.  My new favorite hobby:  looking to see what search terms land people on this page.  


1.  This is why you need to google yourself to see what comes up. 

2.  We are probably not going to get along. 

3.a and 3.b  Who knew acrostic poetry was so popular? 

4.  Wait, let me guess… it’s on his back. 

5.a and 5.b  My gift to you:  – how do you get perpetually right and not peeve? 

Apparently, I’m a dirty bird – 3 hits for trucks that make your penis look big and 4 sex-related search terms.  Oh, and Scooby porn?  What?  My gift to you:

Bumper Stumpers Revisited

Remember that cheesy game show Bumper Stumpers?  Well, I freaking sucked at it.  Majorly.  So besides the fact that vanity plates are a telltale sign of douchery, I also hate them because they make me feel stupid.  I don’t get it.  Isn’t the point of a vanity plate to say something about yourself?  I mean, after all, it’s not like you’re driving behind yourself reading it.  It’s like getting a tattoo on your back – it’s not for your own enjoyment. 

Ever since I started carrying my camera in my car console, I’ve seen a million of these.  I’ve figured out maybe 2 (and those weren’t very hard).  Here are some of the one’s I’ve seen – can you help alleviate my peeve and let me know what YOU think these mean? 

This is one I figured out. But, admittedly, not before trying to remember whether loride was an element on the periodic table. (PS - this guy gets a double douche for non-vintage vette and vanity plate)

I'm still vacillating between Totally Tedious Douche and an advert for a new strain of venereal disease.

Really, you had to get a vanity plate for this? Surely, I'm missing a double entendre here...

You are a 12-month-old and someone just asked you if you need anything from the store? This one REALLY boggles me. I'm losing sleep over it.

Dick-Wad, Re-Waddable???

Sorry, the vanity plate name you have selected is already in use. We suggest: SEK1.

Either you really can't spell, or you just came up with a brilliant alternative to FUCKIT.

Oh - Oh - I get it! You're like Michelle Obama with a stutter.

Okay, I know it's not a vanity plate, but WTF? Has Shrek become a spokesperson for AT&T, moved to Georgia and purchased a used truck? I'm afraid to Google it.

Okay, readers (all 2 of you), break out your Secret Society Decoder pins.  I expect your insights here!

Maybe Momma should have named you Apple…

So, today is my day (me being a mother and all), so I’ll keep this short and sweet.  Okay, not sweet, but short in any case.  Here is the peeve of the day:  people who have a name with a non-traditional spelling that get all pissy when you spell it the conventional way.  One of my nearest and dearest friends has a name spelled with a “y” that is usually spelled with an “i.”  Does she get upset if someone uses the traditional spelling?  No.  Why?  Well, a) because she’s not a fucktard and b) because she usually tells people, “my name is Robyn, with a “y.”

Recently, I worked on a project which entailed sending packets out to roughly 400 people whose name had to be manually written on the cover page.  A lady by the name of Rachael decided that her name being spelled “Rachel” was just too damn much for her and felt the need to write, “You spelled my name wrong!” (yes, exclamation point and all) on the front of the packet before returning it.  Um, first of all, who cares if your name is spelled wrong on a piece of paper that only you and I will see?  Second of all – no, bitch, I didn’t spell your name wrong – your momma did.

Happy Mother’s Day.

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