Just another Friday

So I have to get it off my mind and I am hoping writing a blog will give me a little relief. So this is probably my fault somehow or the other but I went to check my account balance today to do some bill paying and I entered my banks site and went to check my balance and it was almost $250 less than it was last night when I was in there. And you know I know I have a shopping problem but I really didn’t think I drank enough last night to hop online or drive over to Irving Texas last night to drop $250 at the Walmart.


Especially since I don’t shop nor support the “Walmart” way of life. So I slightly get concerned about this strange turn of events and instantly dial the number of my beloved bank (probably the only number I have memorized), and their offices aren’t open until 9am. Which is okay, I can postpone my freaking out for 20 minutes as I Google this money stealing Walmart only to find out that they have a wifi café and locate random T&E reports out there on the world wide web. This does not calm my nerves so I look and it is 9am and I call the bank and right away I get this angel of a woman Courtney, we will call her, on the phone and granted I am not erratic but I am actually unnerved enough not to make jokes (yes that is possible) and she calmly talks me through my account number, contact information and all that jazz the bank folks need to make sure I am who I say I am, and she emails me while on the phone with the needed paper work and direct numbers to call and puts a freeze on my debit card.

FREEZE ON MY DEBIT CARD! Yes that’s right. I no longer have instant access to my own money, for the next three to four weeks. But heck I would rather the darn thing be frozen then have Mr. Walmart out there buying his kids new dirt bikes and a 12 pack of WD40.

So now I feel like one of the Citibank commercials. You know the ones, little old ladies sitting around with male voices talking about how they stole someone’s credit card and bought new bikes, and make roaring noises. What did someone buy at Walmart? And why did they make two transactions??? I am confused and slightly still in shock.
Lance is in class and I can’t have him talk me down from the debit card twelve story building and this is why you are getting another blog ear full.

UGH. . . but I am still able to make transfers out of my account to say my bills, credit cards etc. So at least I can have access to some sort of cash. Especially since my gas light came on during my drive to the office.

Hopefully this will get wiped clean soon and maybe I will be a little more cautious how I use my card, and be more wary online of purchase or something. It just burns my goat that the charges had to be at a Walmart, I would hope that in the future anyone who decides to steal my credit card information would go to a more attractive location to spend my money. . . .at least they waited until the first of the month, they wouldn’t have gotten very far at the wallie world yesterday . . . rat ba$tard$.

Hopping off the unpleasant early morning soap box.

Just another Claim

I don't have a lot to say lately but I find things interesting and I put them here.

Claim: The actor who portrayed the "Marlboro Man" in print and television cigarette advertisements died of lung cancer.

Status: True.

Origins: To the anti-smoking forces in our society, no irony could be more delicious than noting that the Marlboro Man, the advertising symbol whose appearance in the "Marlboro Country" series of advertisements was instrumental in establishing Philip Morris' Marlboro brand as the world's best-selling cigarette, died of lung cancer. Any claims about "the" Marlboro Man are a bit misleading, however, since many different men have portrayed the rugged-looking cowboys featured in Marlboro cigarette advertisements since 1954. An Oklahoma native named Darrell Winfield was the main Marlboro Man from the mid-1970s onwards, but dozens of other men (many of them "real" cowboys) have also modeled for television commercials, magazine and newspaper advertisements, billboards, and other advertising materials promoting Marlboro brand of cigarettes, and two of those men, both long-time smokers, have died of cancers which began in their lungs:


Wayne McLaren, who posed for some promotional photographs on behalf of Marlboro in 1976, succumbed to lung cancer at age 51 on 22 July 1992. McLaren was a former professional rodeo rider who appeared in small parts in various television series and movies (primarily Westerns) throughout the 1960s and 1970s, and he modeled for print advertising between acting jobs in the mid-1970s including a Marlboro campaign in 1976. McLaren, who had a pack-and-a-half a day smoking habit, was diagnosed with lung cancer at age 49. Despite chemotherapy, the removal of one lung, and radiation treatments, the cancer eventually spread to his brain and killed him. After learning he had cancer, McLaren embarked on an anti-smoking campaign that included the production of a commercial described as follows:

In the powerful TV spot, images of the handsome young Wayne McLaren in a Stetson hat are juxtaposed with shots of his withered form in a hospital bed just prior to his death. His brother, Charles, provides the voiceover and chides tobacco companies for promoting an 'independent' lifestyle and asks, 'Lying there with all those tubes in you, how independent can you really be?'
In the last months of his life McLaren appeared before the Massachusetts legislature when they were considering a bill to add taxes to cigarettes to pay for health education and also spoke at the annual Philip Morris stockholders' meeting to support a resolution that the company limit its advertising. Philip Morris initially denied that McLaren had ever appeared in Marlboro advertising, but a company spokesperson later conceded that McLaren's image had been used in a retail display for Marlboro Texan Poker Cards. (The woman McLaren lived with for the last eight years of his life also produced a Marlboro magazine advertisement which she claimed pictured McLaren.)


David McLean, who appeared in many Marlboro television and print advertisements starting in the early 1960s, also died of cancer at age 73 on 12 October 1995. McLean starred in the short-lived 1960 television Western Tate, and he played roles in numerous television series and feature films during the 1960s and 1970s. McLean took up smoking at age 12, began to suffer from emphysema in 1985, and had a cancerous tumor removed from his right lung in 1993. Despite the surgery, the cancer remained and spread to his brain and spine, and McLean succumbed in 1995. In August 1996 McLean's widow and son filed a wrongful death lawsuit against Philip Morris, Inc., claiming that McLean was unable to stop smoking because of his nicotine addiction, and that his smoking habit was the cause of his lung cancer. (The lawsuit contended, among other issues, that McLean had been obligated to smoke up to five packs per take in order to get the right look while posing for advertisements, and that he received cartons of Marlboro cigarettes as gifts from Philip Morris.) At last report (in 1999) the lawsuit was still pending, having outlasted all attempts by defendant Philip Morris to have it dismissed.
The public's fascination with these deaths is easy to understand. With the growth of the anti-smoking movement, the proliferation of lawsuits against tobacco companies, and the passage of legislation restricting smoking in public places over the last several years, the death of the ubiquitous symbol of the world's best-selling cigarette is an irony that many anti-smoking campaigners particularly relish.

Urban Legends Reference Pages © 1995-2003 by Barbara and David P. Mikkelson

just another reference to beer

One afternoon at Cheers, Cliff Clavin was explaining the Buffalo Theory to his buddy Norm.

Here's how it went:

"Well ya see, Norm, it's like this... A herd of buffalo can only move as fast as the slowest buffalo. And when the herd is hunted, it is the slowest and weakest ones at the back that are killed first This natural selection is good for the herd as a whole, because the general speed and health of the whole group keeps improving by the regular killing of the weakest members. In much the same way, the human brain can only operate as fast as the slowest brain cells. Excessive intake of alcohol, as we know, kills brain cells. But naturally, it attacks the slowest and weakest brain cells first. In this way, regular consumption of beer eliminates the weaker brain cells, making the brain a faster and more efficient machine. That's why you always feel smarter after a few beers."

Just another June

Seems June is flying by much quicker than I thought possible. It is already the 14th of the month and it seems like it was just April. Life has been hectic I feel like if I forget to tell myself to breath I may just slip away from reality.
I ponder where my life is going. I had an amazing vacation in the end of May with my sister, whom I hadn’t seen since Christmas. We only live 8 hours apart but I feel we are a life time away from each other, the bubble that is her life is consumed with her job and children, whom I dearly miss watching grow into little adults, and if there wasn’t Myspace I would have no clue what was going on in her life. I miss her, I miss the conversations about nothing the talk of out drinking one another the random moments that only last seconds but leave lasting impressions. I wonder what I could do to be more in her life and find myself wanting to know what more I can do to be more in my own.
Spread thin seems to be a life choice and no longer a state of mind. I want more from life but don’t think I could even find the time to give it to myself. Love, laugh, live, if it was only that simple. I think there are more clichés that could describe it all but what is the worth in repeating words that have already been said a million and one times over. So I day dream the day away and wish for the years that are to come once I complete this stage of life.

just another jen

Of all the names I was named Jennifer. A good strong name for a good strong young lady, but the days of young are gone and the days of lady are quickly disappearing. I am called ma'am now and it has become shocking to me. I hold on to the precious moments when a young cashier asks me for my id when I purchase my smokes, but I feel those days maybe quickly slipping away.