Ghostwriter & seller of Things. Here: no-woo applied psych, writing/marketing sorcery, and bees because someone has to. Utility + occasional absurdity.
Just Do Your Goddamn Job
No, I don't want to download your app. I have 47 apps already, half of which I've used exactly once because some receptionist or cashier guilted me into it. My phone is not a junk drawer for every business I've ever interacted with for ninety seconds.
No, I don't want to use your patient portal. You know, the one that loses my appointment with the reliability of a Swiss watch running in reverse? The one that makes me create a password with one uppercase letter, one number, one special character, the blood of my firstborn, and a haiku about autumn — and then locks me out three weeks later because I haven't "verified my identity recently"? That portal? Hard pass.
No, I don't want to visit your website to "learn more." I want to talk to a human being. Remember those? The walking, talking meat-sacks you used to employ to actually help customers before you decided that a chatbot named "Skylar" who answers every question with "I'm sorry, I didn't quite catch that" was a reasonable substitute?
No, I don't want to register an account. I'm buying a $4 pack of socks. I do not need a relationship. I do not want to be your "valued member." I want to give you four dollars and leave. This is not complicated. Humans have been doing it since the invention of money, and somehow we managed for thousands of years without me having to verify my email address.
No, I do not want your emails. I do not want your "exclusive offers." I do not want your weekly newsletter, your monthly digest, your seasonal lookbook, or your goddamn birthday greetings. I do not want texts asking me how my visit went on a 1-10 scale. I do not want a follow-up text asking why I haven't responded to the first text. I do not want to be told that "Your feedback is important to us!" because if it were, you would have hired enough staff so I didn't have to wait forty-five minutes to be told my prescription "isn't ready yet, can you come back?"
Here's a wild idea: just do your job. Just provide the service. Just take my money, hand me the thing, treat me like a human, and let me leave with my dignity and my email address intact. That's it. That's the whole gig.
I am not your unpaid data entry clerk. I am not your unpaid marketing department. I am not your unpaid IT support, troubleshooting your broken portal at 11 PM because I need to confirm an appointment by tomorrow morning. If you want me to do all that work, then cut me a check. Otherwise, get out of my way and let me be a customer the way customers used to be — anonymous, served, and free.
@Lori_Garver@CincyTomTom@NASA No, Lambchop. You're being a spoiled little brat. And no, I'm not a Trump-humper. You're just that much of an entitled cunt.
@HemmerleinLee They really do. Couldn't find the pic I wanted of a fallen Ponderosa pine that had disintegrated down to 2" pieces, but remained as it fell. Spent forever looking at it.
@miabenetti In terms of weather, geography, etc.? Monotonous. This is why we have menus. I'd rather live almost anywhere than in any city, and Miami is particularly distasteful for me. It's great you like where you are!
@Junegloom38@RepThomasMassie Why does any other 2% group have the same option? Heck, 0% groups can and do. If you want to outlaw any and all campaign spending, you can do that. Otherwise, suck it up, Buttercup.
@HaytGhola@RepThomasMassie Are you a particularly stupid person, or do you just randomly run around the internet commenting on people whose timelines you're too lazy to search?
You've probably stopped to admire a butterfly, but how often do you give moths the same love? Let's fix that, because both deserve our attention.
The easiest way to tell them apart? Check out their antennae. Butterflies sport slender antennae with little club-shaped tips, while moths rock feathery or thread-like ones. Butterflies are the daytime crowd, often resting with wings folded up, showing off bright colors. Moths usually work the night shift, holding their wings flat or tent-style, dressed in earthy browns and grays (though some moths are absolutely stunning, so don't underestimate them).
Here's where it gets cool: both are pollinator powerhouses. As butterflies sip nectar in the sunshine, they spread pollen across wildflowers and crops. Moths take over after dark, pollinating night-blooming plants that would otherwise go ignored. Together, they keep entire ecosystems humming. Plus, their caterpillars are crucial food for birds, meaning these insects support way more wildlife than you'd guess.
The not-so-great news? Both are declining fast, thanks to habitat loss, pesticides, and light pollution that throws moths off course.
But here's the good part: you can genuinely help. Plant native flowers that bloom at different times, skip the pesticides, and leave a "messy" corner in your yard where caterpillars can thrive. Switch off unnecessary outdoor lights at night to give moths a fighting chance.
Start with just one of these this season. Your local pollinators, and the whole food web depending on them, will thank you. Trust me, small actions add up to something beautiful.
@anjewla90@spencerpratt Problem is, your first pic has either come from a different source, or has been altered, as the AP% isn't on the first picture.
Liar, liar, pants on fire...
This bullshit HURTS Spencer. It doesn't help him. You sound batshit. Knock it off.