The Spelling Has Become A Bit Vulgar Of Late

, , , , , | Related | November 20, 2018

(Perhaps because of their age, my parents are the target of a lot of scam calls. Luckily they don’t fall for them, and my mom in particular enjoys messing with these callers. One day the phone rings and the caller ID reads, “Columbia University.” Already suspecting a scam, my mom picks up. A man with a strong Indian accent speaks.)

Scammer: “I am calling from Microsoft Windows; we are calling to inform you that there is a virus on your computer.”

Mom: “And you’re calling from Columbia University?”

Scammer: *a pause* “That is where I am calling from, yes.”

Mom: “Can you even spell Columbia?”

Scammer: *offended* “Of course I can!”

(And to my mom’s surprise he actually does. Or, well, attempts to.)

Scammer: “It’s C…” *very long pause* “O… L…*another long pause, and then he apparently gives up* “F*** YOU!” *slams the phone down*

When Scammers Call Sex Lines

, , , , , | Friendly | November 20, 2018

(When scammers call, we like to scam them right back. I answer a call with a very breathy, “Hello.” The guy starts his spiel.)

Me: *interrupting with a very sexy-sounding* “What are you wearing?”

(He stutters, but continues his speech.)

Me: “I’m picturing you in fishnet stockings and stilettos.”

Scammer: “WHAT?!” *silence for a moment, then* “Guys! You have to hear this!”

(I hung up before he could hear my laughter.)


Trigger Warning: The Dog Doesn’t Die

, , , , , | Friendly | November 19, 2018

(My husband and I are returning to our apartment after picking up some dinner when a large dog runs up the car. We park and get out of the car with the dog jumping up on us excitedly. We see someone standing there watching from in front of the apartment building’s security door.)

Husband: “Is this your dog?”

Random Guy: “No.”

Husband: *trying to calm dog down* “Let’s see your tag, girl…”

(The dog has a very chewed-up, plastic tag on her collar, listing a number. He goes to call on his cell phone while I try to keep the dog calm and with us, as she keeps racing around and I’m afraid she’ll run off.)

Husband: “I’m on hold.”

(Five minutes later.)

Husband: “I’m still on hold.”

(A few more minutes later:)

Husband: “Hello. I found this strange dog running around our street and— Okay, I’ll get a pen.” *writes down number*

Me: “What’s up?”

Husband: “The number on the tag is the tag’s manufacturer. They sold it to [Local Vet Clinic]. They’re giving me the clinic’s number so I can call them to get the owner’s number.”

(He then dials the vet clinic, who puts him on hold for another five minutes before looking up the owner’s number. Keep in mind we’ve got a rambunctious, strange dog and it is below freezing outside where we are.)

Husband: *on phone* “Hello, I’ve found a— The phone disconnected.”

(He redials and get’s the owner’s voicemail. During this, the dog is getting more and more impatient, and she suddenly lunges at me, jaws open. I freak a bit and let go of her collar, and she takes off running.)

Husband: *on phone* “Hello. I think I found your dog at [Street]; please give me a call back.”

(He hangs up and sees that the dog has run off.)

Husband: “You want to look for her?”

Me: “Yeah… It’s freezing out and I’ll worry all night if we don’t try. Did the clinic give you her address?”

Husband: “Yeah, it’s only a few blocks from here; let’s start looking that way.”

(We troop along that way, and after a block or two the dog comes back bounding up to us. This time both of us grab her collar, and my husband tries calling the owner again and again. No one picks up. Finally we get to the dog’s supposed address. The lights are all on, and the door is open, although the screen door is shut and locked. We knock, no answer. We knock again, loudly. No answer. Pissed off by now, we start loudly yelling into the house, “Anyone home? Anyone here lose a dog?” Finally, a middle-aged woman comes and opens the door and stares at us.)

Me: “Um, is this your dog?”

Woman: “Oh. Yeah. My kids let her out. My daughter is out looking for her.”

(She abruptly grabs the dog and disappears back into the house.)

Me: “Wow. You’re welcome I guess.”

(We walked home to our very cold dinner, happy we found the dog’s home, and incredibly annoyed at the owners.)

Only Getting The Most Important Information

, , , , , , | Related | November 19, 2018

(My family is watching a movie. My teenage sister steps out for a while.)

Sister: “What did I miss?”

Mom: “[Character] was killed in battle, and [Brad Pitt’s character] went nuts. He stripped off his uniform, charged the enemy lines, and came back with a bunch of German scalps.”

Sister: *pause* “Brad Pitt was naked?

Sweet Revenge

, , , , | Related | November 18, 2018

(Growing up, my father always hated when we ate suckers and other types of food which made us have sticky hands and faces. I never understood the problem with it until I got older. My wife and I decide to allow our young sun to have his very first sucker candy. He really starts to go crazy on it, both because of the sugar and because of it helping with his teething. I’m sitting on the couch and I noticed the sticky, sugar spit all over his face… and his hands.)

Me: “Oh, God… He’s so sticky!”

Wife: “Yep! He’s going to get you, Daddy!”

Me: “Noooo… No no no no no! Keep him away from me! That’s gross!”

(My wife just starts laughing and goes to get the baby wipes to start cleaning him off when my son RUNS over to me, forces the slobbery and sticky sucker into my hand, uses my arm to climb up me with this sticky hands, and grabs the sucker back from my hand as I’m sitting there in stunned silence. He proceeds to worm his way behind me, put the sucker in his mouth… and run his hands from my neck into my hair, then pull the sucker out and drum on my bare back with it.)

Me: “EWW! OH, GOD! It’s all over my back!”

(My wife is howling with laughter, trying to get a picture just as my father arrives and sees what is going on, with my son still running the sucker up and down my back, while slapping me with his other sticky hand.)

Father: “YES! JUSTICE! Good job, [Son]!”

(We both got a baby wipe bath after that, and I decided he had enough of the sucker for the day.)

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