the white lighter

Admittedly, this blog and its maintainer have eclectic tastes. "Eclectic," as you might suspect, is a nice way of saying that there is very little intertwining theme to any of this. If you end up liking some (or most) of the things I like, you might find that wondrous.

I seek to post only items which are credited to the originator, be it fine art, photography, tattoos, or writing. If you see something uncredited, do feel free to point it out to me. Also: ask anything. Call me out if I fuck up. Give props if you feel like it. Ask questions. I like internet interaction.
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Fuck you for giving every call center in the world our new landline phone number.

Ms. I’m-Keeping-My-Own-Last-Name-Until-I-Die. 

If one more person calls me “Mrs. Kevin’s-Last-Name,” I am going to have a conniption fit of epic proportions.

There is no “Mrs. Kevin’s-Last-Name” here. There never will be, because even Kevin’s mother has a different last name and I highly doubt his sister-in-laws would like the shit you’re trying to hawk. I like my last name, I am nearly 30 years old, I am a “decision maker for this household,” as you like to say, and we are already off to a bad start. I will continue to curtly say, “I am a decision maker, and I am deciding to tell you to never call us again.”

I realize it’s not the callers’ fault — it’s their job. But their job sucks, and I am tired of fielding (no exaggeration) one call every 25-35 minutes. All. Day. Long. Since the day our line was connected. I did sign up for the Do Not Call List, but that takes a month to kick in, and even then it only reduces your calls. Can you tell it has been awhile since I’ve had a landline and had to deal with this crap?

I was sick yesterday, but those bastards kept on callin’. 

Does anyone actually sign up for your security system? Does anyone buy the crap you are hounding us about? I sincerely doubt it. Particularly when you assume that: 1) we are married; and 2) that I changed my name.

I strongly dislike you.

The end.