Cross-over Appeals

Something amusing is happening on my Instagram account.  Well, it's amusing to me.  I'm sure it has happened to everyone with an account. 

When I first opened the account, I started getting random "likes" from people I didn't (and don't) know.  I hoped they were friends of friends deciding to reach out...and sometimes they were.  But most often they were ladies* apparently trying to sell something.  I say "apparently" because I never clicked on the links on their IG accounts, so I don't know for sure.  (The accounts are all the same, six to 12 pictures of a girl who is not completely unattractive and a link to click.  Maybe to talk with her?  I don't know.) 

The funny thing is that over the past few months the strangers visiting my IG account (in hopes of peaking my interest and getting me to click on their links) have been men*.  The kooks running the operation finally noticed I wasn't responding to the strange women*, so they started having strange men* visit instead.  

I joked with my wife that it means I have cross-over appeal.  But these appeals to cross-over are strictly business, hustlers looking to separate a fool from his money.  That part is not so amusing.  I'd like to think no one clicks on those links, but someone must or the kooks wouldn't keep trying. 
 

* Of course there's no way to tell who actually manages those IG accounts.  It could be one 90 year-old man running the entire operation.  In fact, I could be that 90 year-old man!!!  But I'm not.  :D

Not so nice...

I used to do "Darkside" posts every once in a while to re-affirm that I am not a nice person. Or at least that I'm not always nice. Things have been pretty hectic lately, so I'm repeating one of those Darkside stories for fun and to show I have not abandoned my blog. Here goes...


This must have been the first rotten thing I ever did—I don’t even remember it. But my brother swears it happened.

One afternoon (before I was even old enough to attend elementary school) I climbed up on a chair in our dining room, next to the door. I was waiting for my older brother to get home from school. When I heard him coming up the back steps, I prepared myself. As he came through the door, I whacked him over the head with a small cast iron skillet. Then I dropped the skillet and ran to our mother screaming “Help! Help! He’s trying to hit me with a skillet!”

Wow! I’m glad I got THAT regret off my chest. Oh who am I kidding—he totally deserved it!!! I should have hit him twice!!! I really hope that story is true.  lol

That brother was 3 years older (and bigger) and had a terrible temper. I'm sure I was just employing a little tactical strategy to get even with him for something (if it even happened).


PS - This story highlights the importance of varying your schedule. You don't want your comings and goings to be too predictable.  You never know when a 5 year-old with a score to settle might be waiting for you!!!  :D