I got a voice mail from a female asking me to return the telephone call to 573-1729. The only other thing I could understand on this message was “this is very important to me, have a blessed day.” When I attempted to return the telephone call, I explained to her that she had left a message, but I couldn’t understand the rest of the voice mail and I was returning her telephone call. She told me that if I didn’t know who I was calling, I had the wrong number. The person I spoke with was clearly the same person that left the voice mail. I have no recollection of anyone with this number and think I may have gotten the voicemail by mistake. Have any of you all attempted to make contact with someone at this number? I sure don’t want her to fall through the cracks!
Darlene-Lynn Brown
Employed Vagabond
From: Aaron Simon
Sent: Monday, 13 February 2012 9:52 AM
To: Darlene-Lynn Brown
Subject: RE: Missed a phone call???!!(!)
Darlene:
I’m so, super psyched that you felt the need to tell us that you received a phone call. Here I was, wondering whether or not Darlene keeps her work phone hooked up throughout the day, and then, verily, the Lord blesses me with an answer in the form of a missed call. Truly, we live in Holy times.
Often, I receive odd calls. Sometimes, they are in Spanish, as it turns out that the previous owner of my cell phone number was an immigration lawyer. Now, the only foreign language I can speak is French, and—even then—I sound like a mentally deficient five year old. (Or, alternatively, you. I’m joking. Or am I?) So, naturally, being as compelled as I am to get in contact with these people, I will return their phone call, but only to shout, “JE NE PARLE PAS ESPAGNOL! JE NE PARLE PAS ESPAGNOL!” The people then start shouting in Spanish, and I have to continue shouting in French until either my throat starts bleeding or they hang up. Generally, after that, they don’t call again. May I suggest trying that?
I have a very important question for you, and I want you to devote all of your mental faculties to answering it: In your wall of text, you mention that a female called you. My question is this:
A female of what species?
Darlene, I know you are Southern, and thus believe science is some Satan-led plot to destroy Christianity, but you must realize that a female of any species other than homo sapiens using the telephone would be earth shattering. The way we view life would change monumentally and it would be you in the spot-light.
Maybe you could afford some language classes so you wouldn’t tack on an extra eight syllables to every word. You know. Food for thought.
Anyway, please let me know. Unlike you, I have many friends in the hard sciences would would be absolutely pumped to hear about this sort of stuff.
While I’m working on another book, there’s been a distinct lack of posts on the site. You have my sincerest apologies. In an attempt to make it up to you, I’ve gotten in contact with a certain street urchin who’s posted on this site before. He agreed to “write” a guest post for you in honor of Charles Dickens’s birthday.
The only edits I’ve made have been spelling when it hasn’t taken away the charm of Tim’s distinct writing style. Clarity and cohesion be damned.
Hullo there, friends! It’s me, Tim Timiny Cheerio Idiot again and let me tell you, it has been a long while since I was last able to put me thoughts down on paper. It is like that mostly because I had a job at a steel mill! That was fun! There was all sorts of men who looked at me all weird-like and said, “Boy, yer accent is fuckin fake, don’t fuck with us.” But my accent isn’t fake because I’m from London Town and this is how we all talk at least from the time when I was born. I can’t die, you know. It’s because a Gypsy woman put a curse on me when I was ten and stole a pocket watch from her because it was shining in the light and my boss the man who takes things said, “Timothy, you go steal that watch or I’ll beat the piss outta ya” and so I did. But the Gypsy woman caughted me and said, “No,” and then put a curse on me that made me never age or die.
From: Rhonda Langley Sent: Monday, January 9, 2012 9:34 AM To: _EVERYONE Subject: FYI: From The New York Times
Nursing Homes To Patients: “Meh”
Nursing homes have been making the news for tragic reasons more than anything else. Recently, in a nursing home in Tennessee, an orderly broke a resident’s legs and then left that resident in their room, screaming, for six hours while “on break.”
The orderly was quoted as saying, “Bitch deserved it.”
This isn’t an isolated case. In nursing homes across the country, staff are abusing residents in record numbers for perceived injustices perpetrated against them by residents and management.
In Oregon, two orderlies took a paraplegic resident on a walking path and then stole his wheelchair to pawn for “drinking money.”
The nursing home has not reprimanded the orderlies other than telling them, “Do it quietly next time,” according to in-house memoranda forwarded to the New York Times by concerned staff.
Local law enforcement are reticent to step in and put a stop to the matter because, according to a police chief in Mississippi, “I got my mother-in-law in one a them homes. Reckon they’re the reason she can’t speak no more, but, hell, they did me a favor.”
—-
Rhonda Langley
Blog Watcher
“May all your day be full of sparkles!!!”
From: Aaron Simon Sent: Monday, January 9, 2012 10:13 AM To: Rhonda Langley Subject: FYI
FYI:
Aaron Simon
Enrollment Guy
“Shut up and let me finish my Goddamn drink.”
From: Rhonda Langley Sent: Monday, January 9, 2012 10:20 AM To: Aaron Simon Subject: RE: FYI
What? I don’t get it.
—-
Rhonda Langley
Blog Watcher
“May all your day be full of sparkles!!!”
From: Rhonda Langley Sent: Tuesday, January 10, 2012 9:30 AM To: _EVERYONE Subject: FYI: From The New York Times
POTUS’s New Head on Older Americans Relations: “Lolwut?”
The President’s new appointee to the position of Head on Older Americans Relations, an oversight position dealing mainly with various Federal Department of Human Services offices across the country, has come out as utterly clueless about his job.
“I hate the elderly,” he said in his introductory remarks to the press. “They smell. They’re self-entitled. They’re frail. I hate weakness.”
He went on to detail his plans for the future in the three-hour long press conference.
“I’m going to push for a three-strikes-you’re-out rule. After the third time an older American complains, they’re cut off from Medicare. Let’s see how they like the taste of that shit.”
Unsurprisingly, the AARP has reacted negatively to the appointee’s statements, calling him, among other things, “Hitler.”
—-
Rhonda Langley
Blog Watcher
“May all your day be full of sparkles!!!”
From: Aaron Simon Sent: Tuesday, January 10, 2012 9:45 AM To: Rhonda Langley Subject: FYI
FYI:
Aaron Simon
Enrollment Dude
Interblags Ruler
“Damn your eyes.”
From: Rhonda Langley Sent: Tuesday, January 10, 2012 10:02 AM To: Aaron Simon Subject: RE: FYI
What am I looking at?
—-
Rhonda Langley
Blog Watcher
“May all your day be full of sparkles!!!”
From: Rhonda Langley Sent: Wednesday, January 11, 2012 10:02 AM To: _EVERYONE Subject: FYI: From The New York Times
Romney Kicks The Elderly, Aide Says
Latest news from the campaign trail: A former campaign aide for Mitt Romney has come to the New York Times with shocking allegations that Romney has a history of breaking into nursing facilities and kicking the elderly while they sleep.
The aide, who asked to remain anonymous, said that she witnessed Mr. Romney break into three different facilities in three different states and go on what can only be described as “a serial kicking spree.”
The facilities have denied that they have any knowledge of the Presidential hopeful’s alleged elderly kicking, but it has recently come to light that several facilities have had financial windfalls that may or may not be traced to Mitt Romney’s former companies.
When reached for comment, the Head of the Older Americans Relations said, “If he loses, I might have him on staff.” He then laughed uproariously.
Mr. Romney’s campaign did not respond to requests for an interview.
—-
Rhonda Langley
Blog Watcher
“May all your day be full of sparkles!!!”
From: Aaron Simon Sent: Wednesday, January 11, 2012 10:04 AM To: Rhonda Langley Subject: FYI
FYI:
—-
Aaron Simon
Enrollment Guy
Too Old For This Shit
“Forget it, Jake. It’s Chinatown.”
From: Rhonda Langley Sent: Wednesday, January 11, 2012 10:12 AM To: Aaron Simon Subject: RE: FYI
Why do you keep sending me these things?
—-
Rhonda Langley
Blog Watcher
“May all your day be full of sparkles!!!”
From: Aaron Simon Sent: Wednesday, January 11, 2012 10:23 AM To: Rhonda Langley Subject: RE: RE: FYI
FYI:
—-
Aaron Simon
Guitar Shredder
“Jumbo paper clips smooth steel finish”
From: Rhonda Langley Sent: Wednesday, January 11, 2012 10:40 AM To: Aaron Simon Subject: RE: RE: FYI
…
Okay…
—-
Rhonda Langley
Blog Watcher
“May all your day be full of sparkles!!!”
From: Rhonda Langley Sent: Thursday, January 12, 2012 9:52 AM To: Aaron Simon Subject: FYI: From The New York Times
AARP To Members: “Take up arms!”
After the events of this week, the AARP has sent out a newsletter to its members advising that they “[t]ake up arms against the greatest threat to the elderly in the history of the world.”
Though the AARP has not called for violence, certain human rights’ groups are concerned that the call to arms will inevitably lead to bloodshed. “We’re fucked, man!” private Hudson of the Marines said, “That’s it man, game over man, game over! What the fuck are we gonna do now? What are we gonna do?”
The President has called for clear heads, while his appointed Head of Older Americans Relations has called this “Just the opportunity I’ve been looking for.”
—-
Rhonda Langley
Blog Watcher
“May all your day be full of sparkles!!!”
From: Aaron Simon Sent: Thursday, January 12, 2012 9:54 AM To: Rhonda Langley Subject: FYI
I thought it might boost camaraderie and the whole morale thing if I were to send a holiday letter out to the office.
You see, it would appear that a large number of you do not like me. I cannot understand why, as we’ve had such a great year, you and I. Like the time I offered to start up a daycare service, but all of you spat in my face. Or when I suggested obliterating a window across the street with a cannon to free pigeons—and was, once again, spat upon. Or maybe the time I offered to sell one of you a very nice handbag purchased from a special source in South America. And was spat upon.
No matter. It’s all in the past, as they say. I hold no grudges, as grudges tend to turn into wishes for obliteration, and there are times—though I have never had anything like that—when those wishes come to fruition. Thus, there is nothing to worry about. Nor will there be.
How to summarize this year? It’s been an interesting one, you can count on that. It started when I was the subject of police brutality in Chicago. They were under the impression that I was “stalking” someone, when I was really ensuring that the girl in question made it to her apartment safely. I’ve just finished with my physical therapy, so there’s that.
After that, in February, there was the unfortunate incident on the Nashville MTA on the day of the Ice Hell. You know what I mean: That day when the entire city lost its collective mind and there was naught but chaos on the streets. It took the bus eight hours to make it down West End Avenue. No matter how many times I apologized to my fellow bus riders for trampling the elderly man who works for the state, they would not cease calling for my public stoning.
No matter. They will have their comeuppance. And, you know, it’s not like the old man didn’t recover. He may still be unable to walk, but I’ve heard that he can ingest food now. So there’s that.
Since then, I received the news that my liver is half-way deteriorated. This was not the best possible outcome of my forced physical (thanks, Obama), but I suppose it was an important thing to learn. The doctor gave me a prescription of pills that, he said, were supposed to contribute to the regrowth of my liver. Of course, that did not happen. Instead, I found that whenever I walked outside into direct sunlight, my skin would erupt into hundreds of tiny bumps.
I then went to a dermatologist to have it checked out. He took one look at me and said, “Your liver is shot.” I asked about the bumps on my skin, and he responded with a simple shrug. “It might be your body shutting down,” he said.
I’m sure that this is proof that there is no God in the Christian sense. One who loves His creations and does whatever it takes to be a benevolent deity. It does not, however, rule out the existence of the Old Testament God, my people’s God, who could be diagnosed with anger problems. It is entirely possible that Adonai has seen the way I’ve acted (read: not going to shul every week) and has decided that the only course of action possible is to smite me in a horrible way.
So, that in mind, I’ve decided to sod the medical advice of my doctor—whose pills have resulted in what seem to be some horrid condition not entirely different from what I would imagine the plague would have been like—and dive into whiskey at any available opportunity.
Thus, I would like to announce the creation of a philanthropic organization: The Aaron Simon Society For Those Who Want To Die In An Alcoholic Haze. The mission of the charity will be to provide the finest liquor to those with terminal diseases who, like me, have just given up. Ideally, the charity would provide only scotch, but I recognize that not everyone has my refined palate. So, the non-profit’s cabinets will stock vodka, gin, tequila, and any other available liquor including wine.
If you are interested in donating, please contact me and I will forward you information. (NOTE: This is not a tax-deductible organization. The bastards in Washington have the antiquated belief that a man does not have the right to commit suicide by drinking, and have thus contacted me and said that my charity will not have any support from Washington. Let’s see any of them get whiskey from me when they have cancer of the bowels.)
Since I received that news, I’ve been attempting to wheel my life more towards a Dudelike existence. I should say that all of you make it obscenely hard to abide. With your incessant demands to “do work” and “stop harassing your coworkers with vague threats,” one would think that this is not meant to be a friendly work environment.
Well, other than that, it’s been a slow year. Coming into this fluorescent-lit hell every day and seeing my soul slowly deteriorate to nothing more than a puddle at the bottom of the shell that once housed a man who wanted nothing more than to make millions off of novel writing, and then squander all those millions on prostitutes, whiskey, and drugs, eventually fading out to a spark of what once was and then dying, alone and alienated, in the gutter. A modern-day Poe.
Have yourself a good holiday, whatever it is.
Sincerely,
Aaron Simon
P.S. Ted Hayward: You are only receiving this e-mail because it would take too much time to take you off of the list. “EVERYONE” includes you, and you should feel glad that I am too lazy to select everyone but you. If I were to write a letter specifically to you, it would consist of nothing more than photographs of the dead.
From: Lucretia Royal Sent: Monday, November 28, 2011 11:05 AM To: _EVERYONE Subject: Direct Deposit E-mails
Apparently, there have been emails going around from an untrustworthy source stating that your direct deposit has been rejected. These emails are not coming from me or anyone in the admin department. Please ignore and do not follow any links. Thanks!
From: Aaron Simon Sent: Monday, November 28, 2011 11:35 AM To: _EVERYONE Subject: RE: Direct Deposit E-mails
Hi everyone,
Thought I’d chime in here and try to help out those who are confused. While there have been a plethora of scam artists who have tried this sort of stuff before, these e-mails are perfectly A-OK and natural. There is nothing to be concerned about with them, so please continue to e-mail bank details, DOBs, and any other requested information to the e-mail addresses listed in the e-mails. After all, you wouldn’t want to not get unpaid not, right?
-Aaron Simon
Loki Impersonator
Enrolment Guy
From: Lucretia Royal Sent: Monday, November 28, 2011 11:55 AM To: _EVERYONE Subject: RE: RE: Direct Deposit E-mails
Aaron, care to tell us where you got this information? I haven’t seen anything from payroll or fiscal about problems or getting a partnership with any outside company to process our paying accounts.
From: Aaron Simon Sent: Monday, November 28, 2011 12:01 PM To: _EVERYONE Subject: RE: RE: RE: Direct Deposit E-mails
Well, I could tell you, but then that would ruin the, ah, agreement we have with this company.
You know, confidentiality for everyone involved, right? Wouldn’t want a coworker to contact this company with your identification information and start having your paychecks rerouted to their accounts, would you? After all, what with the way it’s set up, such a thing would be legal due to several pieces of legislation that have gone through Congress and stated that individuals who claim that they have had direct deposits altered against their will must provide express, written proof that they did so in the event that their accounts were changed.
It’s a lot of hassle, really, and not something I’d want to put up with. God knows you probably wouldn’t, eh, coworker?
So, for everyone involved, it’s best to send all correspondence to the address that contacted you.
Remember: Due to processing constraints, you must also fax a copy to 615.555.0373.
-AS
Enrollment dude
From: Lucretia Royal Sent: Monday, November 28, 2011 12:37 PM To: _EVERYONE Subject: RE: RE: RE: RE: Direct Deposit E-mails
Everyone, disregard Aaron’s e-mails.
I’ve just been in contact with payroll and they have no record of any such agreement ever being set up.
DO NOT SEND YOUR CONFIDENTIAL INFORMATION TO THIRD PARTIES.
From: Yonna Turner Sent: Monday, November 28, 2011 1:03 PM To: Aaron Simon Subject: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: Direct Deposit E-mails
Hi Mr. Simon,
Following up on Ms. Royal’s e-mails, I was wondering how you seem to know so much about these supposed agreements. I trust that nothing untoward has been occurring. I don’t want to make a stink about anything, but frankly, we’ve been warned about you and, while it would apparently be incredibly difficult to have you fired or otherwise let go, we would—in the event that something illegal was happening—be able to pursue venues to terminate your tenure at this agency.
Best,
Yonna Turner
Fiscal Aide
From: Aaron Simon Sent: Monday, November 28, 2011 2:21 PM To: Yonna Turner Subject: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: Direct Deposit E-mails
You’ve got a weird name, you know that? Swedish or something? Knew a Swede once. Magnus. He punched a pigeon out of the air. Anyway.
Swede:
I appreciate your warning and heads-up. Always good to know that I’ve got someone on my side, you know? Especially since I’m down here in a coven of social workers. Oh, they go on about their ethics all the time, but I tell them about the need—nay, the imperative—of the individual to emerge victorious over adversity of all kinds, and they start prattling about how it’s wrong to take money from the elderly—even when they’re willing to empty their own bank accounts!—just because the grey-hairs have dementia or some shit.
Sickening, isn’t it? But, hey, that’s what you get with these do-gooders.
Anyway, so since you contacted me, I assume that you’re willing to be a partner in this endeavor. Since I’m the one putting my name and neck on the line, I’d be hesitant to go 50/50 with you, but if you agree to cover my tracks in the fiscal department, then I reckon I can go 70/30.
Considering the amount of cash I’m siphoning out of this place every couple of weeks, you’ll be sitting pretty.
Assuming, of course, we manage to get that worm Hayward’s account. I’m sure he’s pulling upper $60s.
Aaron Simon
Your Partner In Crime
From: James Gottfried Sent: Monday, November 28, 2011 3:31 PM To: Aaron Simon Subject: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: Direct Deposit E-mails
Want to explain this:
[begin quoted text]
You’ve got a weird name, you know that? Swedish or something? Knew a Swede once. Magnus. He punched a pigeon out of the air. Anyway.
Swede:
I appreciate your warning and heads-up. Always good to know that I’ve got someone on my side, you know? Especially since I’m down here in a coven of social workers. Oh, they go on about their ethics all the time, but I tell them about the need—nay, the imperative—of the individual to emerge victorious over adversity of all kinds, and they start prattling about how it’s wrong to take money from the elderly—even when they’re willing to empty their own bank accounts!—just because the grey-hairs have dementia or some shit.
Sickening, isn’t it? But, hey, that’s what you get with these do-gooders.
Anyway, so since you contacted me, I assume that you’re willing to be a partner in this endeavor. Since I’m the one putting my name and neck on the line, I’d be hesitant to go 50/50 with you, but if you agree to cover my tracks in the fiscal department, then I reckon I can go 70/30.
Considering the amount of cash I’m siphoning out of this place every couple of weeks, you’ll be sitting pretty.
Assuming, of course, we manage to get that worm Hayward’s account. I’m sure he’s pulling upper $60s.
Aaron Simon
Your Partner In Crime
[end quoted text]
Pretty heinous stuff, there. But I’m sure it’s just another joke.
From: Aaron Simon Sent: Monday, November 28, 2011 4:14 PM To: James Gottfried Subject: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: Direct Deposit E-mails
Yep! Another joke! Oh, man, I can’t believe she forwarded that to you. It’s almost like she thought I was being serious with that. I mean, what kind of jerk would defraud a non-profit? You’d have to be a real slimeball to even think about doing something like that, right?
Best,
Aaron Simon
Good Employee
Enrollment Coordination Specialist
From: Aaron Simon Sent: Monday, November 28, 2011 4:15 PM To: Yonna Turner Subject: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: Direct Deposit E-mails
Just remember that your name and address are a matter of public record.
So there’s a lot of talk going on about the economy right now, who’s to blame, how to fix it, and whether or not we should all get together, gather up pitchforks and torches, and go around hamstringing and then hunting every person wearing a suit that costs over $200.
Look at them, in their hand-tailored outfits, thinking they're better than Men's Wearhouse.
(It should be noted that my political party, The Iron Fist Party, will be fielding our leader and creator, Aaron Simon, for President in 2012. Yes, he’s eleven years younger than the minimum required age, but frankly, the country’s been trampling on the Constitution for many years now, and we see no reason to stop. Our platforms are:
Re-education for anyone who voted for Bush, or has said, “Palin would be a good President”
Executing any repeat offender, and
National Casual Fridays.)
Now, I’d love to tell you what I really think about all of this—but chances are there’s a very vocal group out there who would call me a “pinko idiot socialist” or some variant thereof, and I got enough of that while an Op-Ed columnist at UT. So screw that. Instead, I’m going to discuss what I think—not really—should happen to the country. Because I love America, you see, and want to see us back on top.
See, we’re in a position where opulence and greed are defining characteristics of our population. You need proof of this? Look at the Baconator. There is no need for this thing to exist. It, essentially, is as if Evolution made the jump from Abstract Idea to Sentient Entity, looked at humanity, and said, “This needs to stop. Now. I shall clog their hearts, they shall perish, and, finally, the cockroaches will take over.”
We’re not in a good state, is what I’m trying to say.
My name is Rebecca DuPardue, and I am the office administrator for Kandi McIntyre, Regional Sales Coordinator for Aflac. We have reviewed your resume on CareerBuilder.com and would like to speak with you regarding a career opportunity with our company.
Our Regional Office in Brentwood, TN has an immediate opening on our business- to-business sales and marketing team. Primary responsibilities will include new business development achieved through identifying, pursuing, and closing sales opportunities. Initial concentration will be on the small and medium sized business market in Nashville and the surrounding area. As a member of our team, you will receive top-notch professional training, world-class products and solutions from the leader in our industry, a comprehensive compensation package, and advancement opportunities.
You may reach me at rebecca_dupardue@us.aflac.com in order to schedule an appointment.
Sent: Wednesday, October 05, 2011 9:30 AM To: _EVERYONE Subject: Trapped Pigeons
Hi everyone,
They did a repair on the building across the street. Part of the façade had been missing for a while. Well they trapped pigeons in the building and they are flying up to the window trying to get out. It is freaking me out – does anyone have any suggestions? I went across the street yesterday and told the young lady working the counter and she said that she would tell the owner…..?
Pure, white snow crunched under his foot as Ilyasha stepped out of his wooden house on the edge of the village. His breath cascaded out of his mouth as his eyes adjusted to the sun’s last rays on the edge of the woods bordering his home. He had risen too late to do anything of value—the previous night of drinking in the center of the village with the rest of his friends from the Black Hundreds had seen to that. He was up now because his wife kicked him awake with a curse and told him that if he didn’t leave the house to gather firewood, she would rip out his liver before they froze to death. The threat was enough (barely, the cold really was unbearable this time of year) to make Ilyasha Dubrovin stagger to his feet, put on his black-dyed wool coat and cap and walked through the front door.
He made a semi-circle in the snow with his foot and stamped on the ground a few times. The cold, relentless, came at him in a gust. Ilyasha rubbed his hands togehter. Maybe if he went back in and said he couldn’t find an axe, Anna would forgive him and the two could relive their earlier married days. But no, drinking last night left his chances of that happening slim to none. Anna had become religious and, since talking to the old, waxy-skinned, soft-voiced priest recently arrived from St. Petersburg, had looked down on Ilyasha’s companions. Whenever he returned from associating with anyone from the organization, in any context, he slept on the floor.
Ilyasha coughed and decided that it would be better if he got the job done fast. They only needed a little wood for the fire, just enough to keep it going for a few hours. He walked further out to the chopping stump and pulled out the axe. He rested it on his shoulder and trudged through the snow to the woods, squinting his eyes against the wind and flakes falling from the sky.
From: Aaron Simon Sent: Thursday, September 15, 2011 10:46 AM To: _EVERYONE Subject: Organizational Day Care
Dear all,
It’s come to my attention over the past ten months that several of you have procreated.
Admittedly, I have absolutely no idea why. The world is filled with pain and suffering on a night-unimaginable scale, and bringing more humans into the world to experience it is, in my mind, a form of sadism. Reprehensible to an extreme extent, I think.
