My Irish friend's sister's iPod disaster.

This happened during the night of 4/28/11, starting around 6 PM and ending over four hours later. It all started from a missing iPod.

My Irish Friend was relaxing in his bedroom when his sister suddenly burst in, accusing him of stealing her iPod. That was a ridiculous accusation, he already had his own iPod for a long time and had no reason to take hers. He probably wouldn't want to, it's probably full of girly songs and she has a boyfriend who likely sends her... messages.

My Irish Friend has three sisters. The one in this post doesn't even have the same last name as him. His is Smith, hers is Beavers. So in this post I will call her the Blamey-Beaver. She likes blaming.

So, since he didn't take her iPod, he said "I don't have your iPod." She ignored that. She insisted that he took it, and it invariably led to an argument that soon caught the attention of their stepmother.

So now it also has the attention of their dad. He was calm at first.

I will call him Angry Man. He got very angry after Irish Friend denied that he took Blamey-Beaver's iPod. So then Irish Friend said, "If you're so sure I took her iPod, look around. I SWEAR I DON'T HAVE IT."

(Note: Parents always tend to lean on the daughter's side. This is certainly the case in my household.)

So he looked all over Irish Friend's room. VIOLENTLY. He overturned everything and opened up everything to find the iPod that was not there.

Before he looked around, the room was clean like this:

Then it was like this. But 5x worse.

After he made the mess, Irish Friend cleaned it up after telling his sister to look in her own room for the iPod.

Meanwhile, their dad (Angry Man) was flipping out. He was screaming and shouting and cussing as loud as he could while running around the house. You could hear it a block away.

This is their actual house. Don't be looking for any street signs or addresses,
because there aren't any, you creeper.

Eventually, his dad came back, still angry. He asked one more time if Irish Friend had taken Blamey-Beaver's  iPod and he said NO!!! Then Angry Man got crazy again. He messed up the room, again. And it was just done being cleaned.

At this point, Blamey-Beaver was bawling her eyes out. She ran away and went down to hide down by Rite Aid. It took them until 10 PM to finally find out where she was AND make her come home.

This is her likely path, about 0.77 miles or 3/4 miles.

After they got her home, everything was cooled down again. I still don't know if she ever found her iPod.

Anyways, you can see how a small, innocent object can cause a big mess and fill a house with the stench of stress and anger, which has happened many times in my life.

BYE-BYE FOR NOW.

My Spanish teacher's plant dilemma

My Spanish teacher doesn't have a green thumb. Every plant she buys dies within a week or two. This is the story she spent 10 minutes telling us.

The reason all her plants die seems undefined. She keeps them in light and waters them daily, yet they always wither.

Then came along the one little plant that seemed to live no matter what, and she rarely watered it. She was quite happy with it and was proud of herself.

She was unaware that this plant wasn't exactly a plant for two years. It finally came to her knowledge around a month and a half ago.

She got a call from her fiancée one night. These aren't the exact words and I cannot remember what they exactly were because I was laughing so hard in my notebook.

> Fiancée: Why is there water in the little plastic plant next to your bed?

> Teacher: Wha- what plastic plant?? I don't have one... much less one next to my bed.

> Fiancée: What are you talking about?! I see it right there, on your nightstand, full of water!

At this point, she got angry.

> Teacher: I DON'T HAVE A PLASTIC PLANT NEXT TO MY BED!!! I'M GOING HOME TO SEE WHAT YOU ARE TALKING ABOUT!!!

So she drove home 5 mph above the speed limit and went to her bedroom to see the plant.

> Teacher: Ohh, this isn't a fake plant. This is my little plant I have been taking care of for the past two years!

> Fiancée: It's fake. Take a REAL good look.

So she sat down, picked up the plant, and looked hard, very hard. After a few minutes, she noticed the metal wires running through the stems and the "soil" made from colored foam bits. For the very first time in two years, she realized that her plant was never real. She was absolutely bewildered.

At this point, the whole class was cracking up as she wrapped up her story.

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However, I have a few unanswered questions.

1: How come she didn't notice it wasn't growing?

2: Where did the water go after each watering?

3: Wouldn't the fake soil have started to grow mold on it?

4: Where was the plant in the store that she bought it from if she thought it was real? Possibly misplaced in the ACTUAL plants section?

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But this wasn't as bad as the time she accidentally glued her lips shut.

Garage sales are poop sales that attract hobos and old guys

They also attract A LOT of Mexicans, since I live in S. California.

There are three neighbors that have garage sales. They are the party central people (who have been strangely quiet for a month), the people who live across from them, and another one who lives on the adjacent street.

The three houses circled in red are the ones having poop sales.

I assume that they have to sell their crap every weekend is because they buy so much stuff with money that I don't even know where it comes from (they don't work, they just do parties, pool, and beach), then the junk gets old or unusable then they expect weird people to come and buy it.

These are some photos I took. Don't expect too much from a cell phone camera that can't even zoom and a pair of Russian binoculars.

This was some old dude. Why he needs those is beyond me.

And then I found my better camera.

This is their "Tiki bar" where they sell any junk they find at ridiculous prices.
(e.g.: one stale cookie for ¢50)

More poop.

Even more poop.

I think this is the guy who bought all those toys.

The stupid kids like to have party and screaming fests during garage
sales. On top of that, it has been 90+ degrees today. Pool party imminent.

So what is it that makes me not enjoy sales of poop in garages? First, like I mentioned, it brings weird people into our neighborhood, elevating chances of child abduction (Ok with me) and theft/damage of property of people who aren't having poop sales. (Fine with me as long as they don't touch my property. I have a real sword locked deep in my house if it's needed.)

Second, it makes me and other neighbors look bad. Actually, they're already bad, so this just makes me look bad because I have undisciplined neighbors with junk-crammed houses who invite possible perpetrators into the vicinity.

Third, the stupid children have parties simultaneously as mentioned above.

That's all for today.