Ok. So it’s not news to anyone that famous people tend to feel sort of entitled. It seems the more they get, the more they want. Now, thanks to the folks at Smoking Gun, we can catch a glimpse into just how childlike and spoiled some famous folks can really be.
So, who is the most spoiled? Well, I’d be lying if I told you I combed the whole list to get some quantitative answer to that, but I can tell you this: Paul McCartney is an amazingly spoiled freak.
Here’s a partial list of the things he requires from a venue where he plays…
For the eight of you who look at this blog with any sort of regularity, as well as those of you who have stopped by more than once, lured in by one post headline or another, you should be able to tell something bout it. There is not a whole lot of pandering going on where Miscellany Buffet is concerned. It doesn’t cover every hot topic, or even one per day or week, in hopes of funneling in visitors. That having been said, there are certain stories that refuse to be ignored. There are topics that walk in, plop down on the couch, cross their legs, look at you and say, “Well?” in a way that lets you know they’re not going anywhere. These kinds of stories beg for comment.
Charlie Sheen is on my couch.
There is no need to rehash the media blitz that Sheen has launched as of late. If any of you has been trapped on a desert island (or have AT&T and just cannot get a signal) the last couple of weeks, now that your back, look around and you’ll be able to catch up rather quickly on the goings on surrounding the star of such block busters as Platoon, Wall Street, and Men at Work.
Suffice to say that our boy Charlie is having some issues. His cheese no longer seems to be centered on his cracker. His choo-choo seems to be chugging off around the bend. His dice no longer seem to have the right amount of dots.
Having become addicted to my Kindle, you can imagine my horror when I turned it on this afternoon and the top inch and a half of the screen was blank. I frenziedly rebooted and did some other pointless monkeying, all to no avail. Panic set in.
After calming myself a bit and trying to hypothesize what I might read while my Kindle was incapacitated, I got on the website and got the number for support. The Kindle comes with a one year warranty, but I anticipated the usual headaches associated with the customer support process as it exists in this century. I had visions of complex phone menus that would eventually bring me to a next-to-impossible to understand support executive located somewhere on the opposite side of the planet. Based on what I read on the site, I would be responsible for paying postage on the shipment of my broken e-reader, followed by a long wait for repairs.
I’m happy to report that I was wrong. Very wrong. (Don’t tell my wife. She works under the impression that I am always right.)
After dialing the toll free number, I had only to press one single button (I believe it was “3″) and I was immediately speaking with a service rep. He did in fact have a noticeable accent, but it was that of a southern state, not the far east. After a quick verification of my account, I explained the issue. He had me try one quick fix that failed, then he immediately told me that the Kindle would be replaced. Not repaired – replaced. Plus, Not only did I not have to pay postage to get the defective one to them (they emailed e a postage label), but they were immediately shipping my replacement! At that particular moment, had I been planning to have another child, I would have considered this support reps name for the new addition.
As it turns out, I should only be without my Kindle for about five days. It would be shorter if not for the long weekend with President’s Day.
Ok, first, incase anyone has not seen this, here’s the HILARIOUS video:
The woman in this video is Cathy Cruz Marrero. Mrs. Marrero was strolling through the Bershire Mall (near Bethlehem, PA) when this littl mishap occurred. The video includes the voices of some mall staff (presumably security staff) getting a chuckle over the whole thing.
If you have not heard, the video, submitted to YouTube, has gone viral. At last check it has 1.8 million views.
Mrs. Marerro was on Good Morning America today discussing the possibility of suing the mall because the security staff did not come to help her in her time of need.
Cathy Cruz Marerro
I want to be the counsel for the defendant in the trial. Here are my talking points. (more…)
My wife is a domestic goddess. Let’s get that out of the way right off. On a daily basis, she tolerates the intolerable, accomplishes the impossible, and (on most evenings) addresses the prospect of doing it again the next day with a positive outlook. The whole thing is utterly amazing and anything I could manage as her temporary replacement is only mildly deserving of comment.
So, here are my mild comments.
This bright and snowy Friday in Trevorton, the shining jewel of central PA (or, at least, of Zerbe Township) was spent, by me, in household service. While the three oldest were in school, I had burned a vacation day to stay at home with the youngest and one other toddler, a angelic little gal who bookends with my 20-month-old son like a a set of little, mischievous cherubs. My bride, you should know, was not off frolicking and or cavorting. She was at the dentist enduring the second stage of a root-canal procedure.
All hail the domestic goddess!
“If you find the time to do the dishes while I’m gone, I won’t be upset,” she declared as she left.
I’m sure that most of you are of the opinion that her directive should be a no-brainer for an eternally grateful husband, such as myself. However, it should be known that weeks prior to this day, my wife had imposed a doing-the-dishes-moratorium upon her husband. It seems that my talents, many though they be, do not include proficiency at dish washing. I’m alright with that, but given the nature of her day, I thought I should follow her suggestion. (more…)
Ok. So it’s not news to anyone that famous people tend to feel sort of entitled. It seems the more they get, the more they want. Now, thanks to the folks at Smoking Gun, we can catch a glimpse into just how childlike and spoiled some famous folks can really be.
Having become addicted to my Kindle, you can imagine my horror when I turned it on this afternoon and the top inch and a half of the screen was blank. I frenziedly rebooted and did some other pointless monkeying, all to no avail. Panic set in.
