I get spam calls all the time. I'm sure you do too. If I don't know the number I don't answer my phone, and if it isn't a local number there is ZERO chance I'm picking it up. My phone is generally on silent anway because all the notifications are a distraction to me.
Anyway, one day earlier this week I got around to clearing out my full inbox of spam voicemails.
"This is our final attempt to contact you in regards to your outstanding preschool student loans from 1988."
"Hello this is the SPAM R US Loan Collection Agency calling on behalf of your three trillion dollars in debt."
"THIS IS THE IRS AND WE ARE COMING TO TAKE YOUR FAMILY AWAY IF YOU DO NOT TRANSFER TWELVE BILLION DOLLARS TO STEVE BUSCEMI BY TOMORROW AT MIDNIGHT."
You know, the usual stuff. I usually press '7' the moment they start speaking to just immediately delete them without even listening. Plus, I know Steve Buscemi has better things to do than haggle me for money, although the last couple years have been tough on us all.
This time I heard a new tactic that I hadn't heard yet.
"Your lab tests have just come in and we regret to inform you that you have Parkinson's. If you don't call twelve people in the next three hours and tell them they also have Parkinson's, your best friend's cousin's uncle's roommate will get a papercut." Ok, maybe I made up that last bit, but man, who doesn't miss the simpler times of 1999 chain emails.
Oh great. A new tactic. Now that we are all getting sick from covid/vaccines these companies have a brand new way of spamming us, because tons of people are having blood tests done now.
I walked into Peppy's office and waited until I had his undivided attention. Please let it be known that I have not any blood work done lately at all.
"I just got a call that said my blood work came back and I have Parkinson's."
I watched Peppy's face fall. I couldn't believe that he believed me, but then I tried to put myself in his shoes. I can keep a straight face for a very long time and I have been sick for almost two years. So I guess it could seem believable and I'll give him that much. But I really did believe that he would think it was a joke. I guess I shouldn't joke about medical stuff. But my sense of humor usually has no barriers.
In happier news, my dad and Owsley built this go-kart over the summer together. They did a great job, and it must have a pretty decent weight limit, because we've all given it a go. It gets pretty good speed on it too.
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