Nobody came to my hamster's funeral. I'm not angry, I'm just confused.

I went to the Detroit Bar tonight for the Interfaith Shelter benefit klikitak had organized. The DJ was good, the music wasn't, and I met some nice people including a couple of her coworkers from the shelter.

I was one of maybe 10 people there who did not have rock 'n' roll hair. As usual, the musicians did not have rock 'n' roll hair either. Hipsters, etc., you know the drill.

I bought a ginger ale and tipped the bartender heavily.

There was a young woman there who was asking people about benefits, how to put one on, etc. This was because she too wished to put on a show like this. I believe her exacts words were "This is going to sound fucking dumb but I want to put on a benefit for my cat."

Setting the cat itself aside for a moment (there you go, kitty! good kitty), there are two things that come immediately to mind.

1. A benefit is something that is done for a community cause. Examples of community causes include: a charity; a political issue or candidate; a much-beloved individual in terrible distress; an institution of some kind in need of help. It's bizarre that someone would not understand the social distinction between "benefit for Cat Rescue" and "benefit for my cat."
   
   
2. This isn't a benefit for a cat; it's a benefit for the cat owner. She needs money to pay for the cat's treatment. She could sell her car. She could take two jobs. She could live on only rice and beans and one lime a week. There are lots of things she can do. She is currently out for the night at a bar drinking. This is not a social welfare situation. This is a "cat shower." Why can't she see that?

Bonus points!

• She just got a degree in P.R.
  
  
• She and her girlfriends have already raised $500 with a bikini car wash.
  
  
• She was dressed all Flashdance.

Okay, I had to get that off my chest because I am a bitter asswipe. I do feel bad for the cat, though.

DADS 'N' GRADS!!

Dear the Marketing-Industrial Complex:

I was dismissed from UCLA for poor academic performance in 1986 during a severe and nearly fatal depression.

My father died suddenly in 1993.

Fuck you,

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picture without caption or context or reason

Something something invasion of Normandy, oh this isn't for me

Payroll company faxes 121 pages of confidential stuff to wrong person

Wrong number faxes are a huge risk. It's obviously possible to typo an email address, but since so many of them are names or words the sender is doing a visual checksum as the email is written and sent. Punching in a string of numbers is different, and with so very many faxes out there the chance of getting a friendly "okay!" from the wrong number is pretty good.

When I was at the hospital we paid a lot of attention to this because we were frequently faxing medical records to physicians. We had a rule that we would fax nothing to any insurance company, only to the attending physician or a specialist for whom we had written permission from the attending to share records. People always wanted us to fax stuff RIGHT NOW! but it was very important that we refuse.

One day I got an incoming fax that made no sense. The clerk had just dumped it on my desk. It was from one of the big accounting firms, and was about 20 pages of detailed financial information. It had nothing to do with the hospital. On close inspection this was a detailed financial analysis for one of the parties in an impending merger of two large companies.

I called the guy and told him I had it, and that it was okay, I worked at a hospital and I was going to shred it. He nearly cried. "Good thing I didn't call the recipient, eh?" I said jovially.

Faxes are dumb.

Hot days are hard when you're ugly

Le Marin Butter Porn Session