Sally's Claim Form

Remember that last SPAM email "Sally" replied to? Well, she got a response. From Mr. Damien Lewis himself! She did the only logical thing--she wrote back!

The email "Sally" received:

On Wed, Feb 9, 2011 at 12:47 PM
Lewis wrote:
Attn: Sally Fernandez,

We are in receipt of your email and we can confirm that the lottery award made to your email address. Congratulations on the award of $2,500,000.00 (Two Million, Five Hundred Thousand Dollars) to your email address in our just concluded Electronic Promotions held in the Netherlands.
The award sum is deposited in a suspense account in your favor pending remittance. Your winning prize has a hardcover insurance policy that makes it impossible to make any deduction of any kind, until the sum is finally credited into your designated account.

As your assigned claim agent, my duty is to guide you on the procedures to ensure the prompt remittance of the winning sum and I would require your co-operation to facilitate this process.

A vetting process is to be carried out by the Gaming Board to have you validated as the beneficiary. You are expected to fill the attached form below and return, along with a copy of your valid identification document whi ch can be a copy of your passport or driver's license. This is a standard practice to ensure that payout is made to right beneficiary.

This process is vital and urgent, and all prize money should be claimed on or before 14 days, thereafter unclaimed funds would be included in the next stake. You are to keep all your winning information confidential, especially your reference numbers. This is important as a case of double claims will not be entertained.

You can call or send an email, if you require any guidance on how to complete the Claims Processing Form.
Your prompt response is expected.

Regards,

Damien Lewis
Tel: +31 626 006 051
Fax: +31 847 142 735

Sally's Response:

Re: Attn: Sally Fernandez (Claims Form Attached)
Saturday, February 26, 2011 10:17 PM
From: "Sally Fernandez"
To: "Lewis"

Mr. Damien Lewis!

Is it okay if I call you Dam the Man? I think we’re good enough friends now where I can give you a clever nickname. My brother Scott didn’t like it when I called him Scotty Too Hottie. He said that’s weird. I don’t know why. All my friends have crushes on their “brother from another mother.”

I am glad that you were assigned to be my claims agent. And I wholeheartedly trust that you will take me through the correct procedures. You’re kind of like the guide dog to me, the blind girl, in this situation. I have no idea what to do, but you’re right there, telling me what to do--being my eyes. I trust everything you tell me is honest and safe. You’re my dog. In fact, I'm came up with a new nickname for you. It only took me two hours, but I'm sure you'll love it: Mr. Fluffy.

How come you didn’t answer my questions in my last email? Am I too ugly? Do I seem needy? Wait, how would you even know what I look like? Was it because we're only supposed to have a business relationship? You're not a fan of Snuggies? Or is it because my questions were dumb? Why? Whyyyy? It’s okay that you didn’t, but I’m a little hurt. See, guys call girls “fragile,” but did you know it’s not pronounced the way that the dad says it in A Christmas Story? It’s not frah-gee-lay. No, I learned that in my French class. Well, I didn’t really take a real course; I just learned French from some boy named Fritiof, (nicknamed Frito Lay). Oh, on second thought, I have another question: Why is a Game Board validating me as the beneficiary? I hope it’s the game Balderdash. That’s my favorite board game!!! Balderdash: Senseless, stupid, or exaggerated talk or writing; nonsense. My favorite part of that game is making up stories as to why the person on the card is famous. People believe my stories all the time and I usually win.

Hey, can I have your opinion since you’re a guy and all? I was sure Billy really liked me after I called him that one day and I asked him if he’d like to meet up for dinner or something. I even gave him a choice: Burger King or Wendy’s. He told me, “Yeah, sure, whatever.” I was ecstatic!!! At last, I could see my dream of building Billy’s Bridge come true. But now when I call him up to ask him how much he’ll allot me for the meal that we’re supposed to have, I get this recording: This number has either been disconnected or is no longer in service. Do you think this means he loves me, Mr. Fluffy? Because it’s the SAME recording that my mom has and she loves me! *Giggle* Teehee! ;)

I totally get that you don’t want to entertain a double case. You’re probably not in the mood for entertaining after having so much money slip through your fingers every day. That’s probably really depressing. I can relate. Not in terms of money, though. Oh no, this is much more personal. See, gosh, I’m getting upset just thinking about it. I had this collection a year ago. I had been saving up for my wedding night for YEARS. Years. Then, last May, on my 29th birthday, Mom told me to clean my room because the “rancid” cup of milk in my room was “smelling the whole house up!” I don’t know what her problem was. I only left that milk out for Santa. Sure, it was a little early, but I was just showing him how considerate I am of others' needs. Besides, I thought if I could get on Santa’s good side, then my Christmas wish would come true. I left this note on Billy’s front door:

Billy, my Love, Please don’t be scared if a fat man grabs you and puts you in a bag. I asked for you for Christmas!! With all my heart, Sally

ANYWAYS…like I was saying, I was saving my collection of my nail clippings for my honeymoon with Billy. Then Mom came in my room while I was out on the town and “cleaned” my room and threw away my collection of clippings!!! Not to mention Santa’s milk. I was so mad. I said to myself, "Would ya just look at that? Just look at it!" So, yeah, I completely understand things slipping right through your fingers.

Just in case you do happen to get a double case, I have some excellent suggestions for forms of entertainment. I used to do these things with Scott, but shortly after, he'd disown me in public when I'd ask his friends if they wanted to join us:

1. Watch Catfish in beanbag chairs with your two cases! Then again, Catfish is about a person who makes a fake profile on the Internet for attention. Come to think of it, maybe that’s not the most appropriate movie to watch.
2. We could bring my grandma into the picture and watch her (from our beanbag chairs) burp the ABCs! Don’t mind me if I’m putting my nose up to her mouth. I just like the smell of SpaghettiOs.
3. If those aren’t entertaining to your two cases, you could always deliver ketchup peanut butter cookies to your neighbors. It’s the neighborly thing to do.

I have attached the filled-out form and my license at your request. Actually, that’s not really MY license—it’s Frito Lay’s. He said I could have whatever I wanted…so I don't understand why he dropped me back off at the corner in a huff when I said I wanted a picture of his license. Boys!

Your loving new friend,

Sally

(Click on the photo for an enlargement)

The first email from Mr. Damien Lewis.
Sally's very first SPAM email ever!

Where the Good Deals Are

What with the economy the way it is, businesses are shooting deals out left and right to get you to become their next customer. Have no fear, guys. I think you'd all do well to follow my example and go to Arctic Circle from now on. Let's pay $7 to get a 2 gram candy...FREE!

Arctic Circle: Where the good stuff is deals are.

7 Facts "Award"

Um, so I received my first ever blog "tag" from Melissa, whom I thank. I don't know how I ever became so worthy of such an honorable award (eh, who am I kidding? It's about time I was awarded this nifty little sunflower picture!), but now I'm supposed to write seven random facts about myself. Is my blog not random enough?!

I think I'll frame it.

My Facts:

1. I write with my left hand, yet I still "manage" to have "cute" handwriting. Oh my gosh!
2. I do everything else with my right hand (I draw my pictures for this blog with my right hand, because I'm used to using the mousepad thingy with my right hand--that's why my drawings on the computer are so bad [justification]...I'm not right-handed, people. It's hard drawing on my laptop's little screen thingy with just my finger.)
2.5 I am humble
3. I cannot drink milk by itself. Eck. A) I don't like the taste, and B) whenever I drink it, I'm thinking to myself, Uh, this came out of a cow's udder, which makes me shudder (rhyme right here, yo: This came from a cow's udder and it makes me shudder) at the thought. It must be accompanied with a cookie, chocolate, cake, cereal, apparently anything that starts with a C...to cover up its taste.
4. I found a $20 bill in the Wal-Mart parking lot today!
5. My favorite show used to be 20/20
6. My favorite color? Cerulean Blue, of course
7. I used to be able to crack my neck by just turning my head. Then, about three years ago, I awoke from a long night's sleep only to discover that I had a stiff neck. Well, this friend, my stiff neck, lasted for at least three days. Then it was gone. Ever since then, though, I haven't been able to crack my neck unless I take a hand to each side of my head and manually crack my neck. This new way takes too much effort, if you ask me.

The Rules After You've Received This Award:

1. Thank the person who gave you the award and link back to their blog. Yes, if you don't thank me, then I'm gonna...I'm gonna...do nothing.
2. Post seven random facts about yourself. Check.
3. Pass on the award along to 15 other worthy bloggers. 15? Holy moly guacamole.

I've tagged these people. Now they're IT:

Robyn
Pearl
SparkleFarkle
ScoMan
April
Sweet Cheeks
Amanda
Fragrant Liar
The Empress
Cait
Caity
Vegetable Assassin
Sausage Fingers
Steph

Ms. Blasé

Ahh, there, much better.

Happy Feet's Replacement

After learning a ton from this article, I've come to the conclusion that I have mostly healthy (and happy) feet. Oh, and that I'm pretty healthy, too. Pshh, I only experience one of those symptoms listed in 18 Things Your Feet Say About Your Health. One. Out of 18. That means I'm ONLY 5.55% messed up. Therefore, I'm declaring myself to be the new happy feet spokesperson. How do you like my slogan:

Forget gellin' like a felon,
how about gettin' jiggy wit it
like a midget?

Let's see here, 100-5.55=94.45. I'm 94.45% good, people! I think this means that when I was in elementary school and on crutches, and a girl started a rumor to her class that I was faking the whole "having bad feet" thing, she was right. I guess I really didn't have feet problems! What joyous news that I've only just uncovered.

Now that I've realized how happy and healthy my feet are, I can't help but wonder if I only had 6 foot surgeries because the podiatrist has a foot fetish and just wanted alone time--with my feet--while I laid unconscious on the operating table for seven hours each time. Hmm. If that's the case, it's not any of my business, really.

Man, I'm starting to think deeply now. Are articles supposed to make you reflect on past experiences in your life?

As I reflect on my numerous surgeries, I'm now starting to wonder why I had that grueling back surgery that left me in a back brace for months--the same surgery that stunted my ability to grow taller. I could've been 5'4". 5'4"! Life changing.

Do you think that back specialist just wanted alone time to sneak a peek at my feet, too (rush Shannon to the operating table!...eh, let's knock her out for 8 hours this time)? I don't care. He could've messed with my feet and I wouldn't have known the difference. My feet already look like Fred Flintstone's feet--how much more could they get screwed up? Oh, that's right, they got screwed up on my fourth surgery when many screws and pins were meticulously placed inside each of my feet, only to have the screws removed from one foot on my sixth surgery.

At least I was able to write a fifth grade award-winning autobiographical incident about my back surgery. I guess my teacher loved reading about me being under the influence of anesthesia, all the while using my bunny stuffed animal to play Peek-a-Boo with the doctors and nurses. The darndest things those kids do.

...but I didn't have the foot surgeries for nothing! I have actually benefited from these apparently not-needed surgeries, believe it or not. Without them, how in the world would I be privileged enough to park in a handicapped spot for sixth months (besides stealing my grandma's sign...which I don't do...)? How else would I be able to go through the exits of Disneyland rides--waiting 5 minutes instead of 90--without having a wheelchair? How else could I have the excuse to race my grandma in one of those motorized carts at Wal-Mart? If you look helpless, remember, people are scared to approach you and tell you NOT to be doing something (Excuse me, ma'am, but you probably shouldn't be going more than 5 miles per hour on that wheelchair. You might hit someone. [Reminder to self: NEVER let Grandma drive a motorized cart in Disneyland again]). And, lastly, how in the heck would I be able to get out of mowing the lawn for 2 weeks?

Do you think that girl dressed as a nerd at that last Halloween dance, who complimented me on my feet, rather than my costume ("I just want to tell you that you have the cutest feet!") was really telling me that my feet look healthy, and therefore, happy?

My Frankenstein foot.

I wonder.

Fartin' Margaret

You’re back in eighth grade and your mom makes you sign up for Spanish so that you can be prepared to take Spanish I/Spanish II in high school, complete your foreign language requirement, and move on with your life. When I was in high school, I was the top student in my Spanish classes. Languages came naturally to me. But unlike his super talented foreign-language-learner sister, my brother despised Spanish. In fact, the only phrase he remembers years later from his invaluable Spanish classes is “callate la boca.” Also known as “shut your mouth.” I’m guessing he has heard this phrase one too many times.

There my brother is sitting in his eighth grade Espanol class, learning about flan and how people eat this nasty excuse for a dessert in Spanish cultures. Only 2 minutes ‘til the bell rings, yet time seems to be standing still.

“Flan doesn’t only come in vanilla.”

Tick tock.

“There is also chocolate flavored flan.”

Tick tooooooooooooooock.

“Personally, my favorite is vanilla, though. The texture of it is kind of like a custardy Jell-O. Hey, in fact, I think Jell-O has an instant mix of flan that even comes with caramel sauce!”

Tick toooooooooooooooooooooooooooock.

“I encourage you all to go home tonight and beg your mom to make you flan for dessert. Have her drop what she’s doing, have her go to the store, and buy instant flan mix. But…don’t tell her I told you to say that. Tell her that your education is very important to you and that if you try it you’ll get extra credit. TWO points extra credit!! Also, don’t forget, but your paragraph about your family is due tomorrow. Use your best Spanish.”

Brrrrrrrriiiiiiiiinnnnnnnng!

“Don’t forget, but you also need to include a drawing of your family!”

--------------------------------------------------------------

Here’s a drawing not dissimilar to what my brother turned in:

A few days after turning in his masterpiece, the flan-loving teacher asked to speak to my brother after class.

She probably just wants to congratulate me on how life-like my drawing looks. Or, worse, what if she found out I don't really have a dog?? Dang it, I should have said I have a pot-belly pig, that would've been more believable!

“El Niño, I have a question about your project. In your About My Family paragraph, it says here, ‘Fartin’ Margaret is mi perro. Ella es fea y vieja. Ella no stop yapping. Ella is smelly a tambien. We want to put her down.’”

I bet she’s wondering whether I’m having a hard time at home because I have to put my “ugly and old” dog down. That’s gotta be--she's probably a very sensitive person and wants to know how she can help--what else could it be?

“Now, son, did you know that my first name is Margaret?”

“Uh…no…wow, hmm...what a coincidence."

Yes, but I didn't think YOU'D know the dog was a symbolism for you.

“Here’s your hall pass. The principal’s expecting you.”

True story. My brother hated Spanish and his teacher so he decided to bring the passive-aggressive approach into his homework. Yes, he turned in a picture of a hecka (we Californians use this word sometimes) ugly dog, named it Fartin’ Margaret (after her), and handed it in as part of his “Mi Familia” project, not thinking that she would notice the subtle attack. I guess he was probably thinking she would react in a fashion where she would be overjoyed to know that one of her student’s dogs shared the same name as her. I don’t know. All I know is that my brother is witty. So, if you want to pass your eighth grade Spanish class, you can add an imaginary dog/pig/cow/rat/whatever to your family. Just make sure its name is Loveable Margaret—NOT Fartin’ Margaret. You don’t want to get into a stinky situation.

Happy S.A.D.!

Happy S.A.D.!

(Singles
Awareness
Day)

All the single ladies,

all the single ladies

If you don't like it

then you should get on the Internet

Wha-oh-oh-oh-oh-ooh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh
Wha-oh-oh-oh-oh-ooh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh

Ladies, are you tired of being alone on Valentine's Day with no one except your teddy bear, Freckles, to cuddle? Exhausted of eating at your candlelit table set for two only to gaze across your nice china into the deep chocolate-mousse-colored eyes of...Freckles? Tired of snuggling under a blanket with your good friends, Ben and Jerry, to watch You've Got Mail with Freckles clinging at your side? Exhausted of receiving a dozen red roses unexpectedly at work with the note "Can't bear to be without you" only to discover the note's in Freckle's handwriting?

Freckles the Bear

If you're suffering from any of these symptoms, don't worry. There IS help. Now introducing the solution to all your problems: Internet dating!! Satisfaction 35% guaranteed! Within minutes of joining, you'll have intelligent, dashing, funny-as-heck guys knocking on the door to your heart.

A personal message from one of our satisfied customers (we'll call her Sheltered Shan):

Girls, you don't have to feel alone anymore! Internet dating DOES work. Within 3 minutes of joining, I had a boyfriend. A real guy who wanted to date me. Not some guy in a freckled bear costume who stalks me via Facebook.

I have even saved our very first words spoken to each other over the Internet so that it can go into my scrapbook of how he and I first met!! :) :)

My-Soon-to-be-Boyfriend: hi want to date?

Me: Heck yeah!! Where have you been all my life?

My-Now-Boyfriend (See, isn't it easy?! Yay!): here in utah lets do something its friday :)

Me: You're right, it is Friday--I'm glad you know the days of the week. Look, I've already found a smart one!!! Before we meet, though, I have certain questions that need to be answered:

1. What are your feelings on the World of Warcraft?

2. Would you be willing to teach me how to play the guitar?

3. Are you weird? (If you answer yes, it doesn't necessarily rule you out, but I need to be prepared.) Asking him directly if he's weird is a good way to make sure that he isn't weird. But I'm already so in love by this point, that I don't care if he answers yes.

My-Ever-So-Endearing-Boyfriend: I have played guitar for 6 years and give lessons He's suuuuper talented!!!!! :), I could get you started this week, never played world of warcraft, and im wierd but would love to give you lessons i charge 10 bucks a lesson I don't even care that he isn't using punctuation, or that he spelled "wierd" wrong. And why should I?

Me: What? No lesson discount?

So give me an example of how you're weird. There are many different variations of being weird, like weird weird, cool weird, geek weird, Twilight weird, or socially awkward.

I'm glad you haven't played World of Warcraft. I haven't either. Aww, look, we already have things in common!

The-Man-I'm-Probably-Going-to-Marry: thats 10 bucks a hour guitar lessons from private people is more for a half a hour Aww, would you look at that? He's sharing his talent at such a low cost--he's charitable and giving!, not to weird, just like to have fun you want to have a lesson monday?

Me: I don't currently own a guitar. I was seriously considering getting one to take lessons, though.

When you first messaged me "hi want to date," were you breaking the ice or did you really think a girl would just respond with yes and then you were dating? I need to know if it was love at first sight for him as it was for me!

My-Man: were over im breaking up with you. Learn how to play guitar though, if you ever need a teacher you know where to find me

Me-in-a-Pool-of-Tears-Barely-Able-to-Cope-Trying-to-See-Past-the-Salty-Fluid-Flowing-Onto-My-Cheeks: Do you think it would be weird to give lessons to your ex? I could see how that could potentially be really awkward.

-----------------

Okay, girls, isn't this a wonderful example of how to get a boyfriend in time for your candlelit table that's already set for two (just overlook the part where we broke up, please)?

Here's a hint to a successful Internet relationship: if you meet him in person right off the bat before chatting to him online first, you're bound not to be broken up within 8 minutes. Also, don't ask him questions before meeting. This tends to scare him away. That's why I didn't end up marrying the love of my life. Follow these simple steps and you're bound to get the guaranteed results: snuggling up under a blanket with a real man, not your besties Ben and Jerry...or Freckles.

Love bunches over the Internet,

Sheltered Shan

WARNING: Side effects may include: lying, upset stomachs, stalking, earaches, and weirdos.

Note: The above dialogue is an actual conversation (and the whole entire conversation, nonetheless...yes, it started with "hi want to date?") that a friend and I had with some dude online. Please don't try this at home--unless you take precautions, or just want a laugh.

A Star is Born

My alternate personality, Sally Fernandez, is one lucky girl! People just like to hand money away like it's nothing--and she's always the recipient of this kind act.

The email I received:

RE: NOTIFICATION OF EMAIL AWARD
Tuesday, February 8, 2011 6:52 PM
From: "wmclean@sunbeach.net"
To: undisclosed-recipients

RE: NOTIFICATION OF EMAIL AWARD

We are pleased to inform you of the email reward program for internet users. Your email address was the star pick from the automated ballot system and by virtue of this pick, you are entitled to receive the grand reward of Two Million, Five Hundred Thousand Dollars.

This is a reward program for the patronage of internet services and all email addresses entered for the promotional draws were randomly selected from an internet resource database of registered software and domain users. This promotional draw is conducted in the Netherlands, but email entries were drawn on a global basis.

Reference Number: RGM-1313
e-ticket number: A-8700916
Amount: 2,500,000.00 (Two Million, Five Hundred Thousand Dollars)

For instructions to receive this amount, you should establish contact with the Enquiry Officer using details stated below:
Contact: Mr. Damien Lewis
Phone: +31 626 006 051
Email: enquirydeptlewis@yahoo.cn

You are required to directly contact Mr. Lewis and furnish him with the following information:
Name:....... Address:........ Phone/Fax:....., Cell Phone:......,Email:....., Alternative Email:...., Occupation:...., and E-ticket number:

NOTE: It's important you initiate correspondence with Damien Lewis immediately for guidance to receive the allotted sum.

Marcia brian

Promotions Coordinator


NOTE

contact the clamis agent

My response:

Re: RE: NOTIFICATION OF EMAIL AWARD
Tuesday, February 8, 2011 8:35 PM
From:"Sally Fernandez"
To: enquirydeptlewis@yahoo.cn

Mr. Damien Lewis,

What an honor is is to write you!!!!!!!! And I'm so honored that Marcia referred to my email as the star pick. I always knew I was a star, but didn't think I shined brightly enough for anyone to see the light I give this world. I am glad to finally be recognized...especially with money! I am confused, though, I didn't enter my email into a drawing to be picked. I must have a secret admirer. See, now I can finally prove my point to Molly who said I'll never amount to anything. And I told her, oh yeah, well...you just wait. Someday I'll be a bright, burning star and you'll just be...Molly. I told her this 12 years ago, but I wrote it down in my journal so that I could rewrite my future. And, well, she must've told her boyfriend at the time, Billy, that I told her TO HER FACE that she's JUST going to be Molly and he must've had an epiphany at that exact moment, knowing that he couldn't be with a "just Molly." He ended up breaking up with her 4 years later, but I think the whole time that he was dating her he was crushing on me, knowing that I had potential star power. I knew KNEW they were going to break up! So, I think he entered my email address into this drawing to get back at Molly and to get with me. I'm going to go call him now. Hold on.

After having a very awkward conversation with Billy, I am now furnishing you with the following information you requested:

Name:.......Sally Fernandez (I'm half American and half Spanish--although I don't speak an ounce of Spanish. Oh wait, no, I know one phrase: Mis pies son feos [the translation is: My feet are ugly. I didn't learn what the English translation was until I had been saying this Spanish phrase to every guy I talked to at Molly's request. Then, one guy finally responded to my bad Spanish with an English word: Fetish.])

Address:........Right now I'm just living off the generosity of others and am currently living from couch to couch. I don't have a permanent address, per se (yes, I do know Latin). My least favorite couch to sleep on, though, is the one that's on Dolly Lou's son's hairdresser's cousin's dogsitter's front porch. It gets kind of cold at night, and I'm right next to the dogs. Some would say I'm in the dog-house. But I don't know what that means.

Phone/Fax:.....Again, oh geez, I'm so embarrassed, but I don't have a phone that's also a fax machine. Oh man, now I'm all worried. How will you wire the money over to me if I don't have a fax number? Come to think of it, how will I get the money? Seeing as I don't have a bank account either, you'll probably just have to send me bills in an envelope addressed to my parents. But on the envelope it should say: For Sally's eyes only. Because sometimes my parents go through my mail and they've even read my love letters. Oh, it's so embarrassing. They told me I had, like, 24 letters from Foot Fetish boy, but he kind of creeped me out...but my mom said he's very nice because he even sent samples of toenail polish. Maybe I received a letter or two from Billy but they ripped it up and never showed me (they never liked him, you know, because he probably never sent samples of polish or anything). I don't know, but I think my parents also stole my Harry Potter Snuggie a few weeks ago that I ordered from As Seen On TV. I want my Snuggie now. I don't like having to share Max the Dog's fur coat. Did you know Snuggies can act as a robe-thingy AND as a blanket? It's so versatile.

Cell Phone:......Not applicable.

Email:.....This one.

Alternative Email:....I guess you could email wmclean@sunbeach.net if you want. We've become such good friends ever since I received the email from her an hour ago telling me I've won so much money. I don't know how I could ever repay her...not with my newfound money, that's for sure! I'll probably end up buying Billy a bridge and naming the bridge after him. Do you think Bridge Billy sounds good? I think I will even put a big red bow across it. I will also pick a star from the sky, you know, like in A Walk to Remember, how the boyfriend picked a star from the sky and named if after the girl? How romantic! Well, I'm going to do that too. I'm going to name the star Sally. See, it's kind of like a metaphor because the star is Sally. It's a metaphor for saying I'm a star because we all know people can't literally be stars. That would just be silly. But if there really is a star named Sally, then it can be literal.

Occupation:....I'm doing odd jobs at the moment. My favorite is taste-testing toilet bowl cleaners. My runner-up favorite is cutting my uncle's toe hair. I also like to braid it.

and E-ticket number: A-8700916

I don't know, but this must be my lucky month!! First, I received an email from Mr. Arwan Ibrahim telling me I've inherited 40% of 15 million!!!! Are you guys friends? Ooooh, maybe you're twins--you both have "Mr." as your first name. Cool! I think you guys are saints for just giving money away. You will surely be rewarded in the next life for being honest and charitable--especially to those who need it most. I have a question, you said I receive this much: 2,500,000.00. Now, is that in US dollars, African dollars, or Schrute bucks? Sorry, but you didn't explain as explicitly as Mr. Arwan Ibrahim did. Second, I received $8 from Uncle Harry for braiding--french brainding, nonetheless--his toe hair (yes, I'm also fluent in French as well). That was a surprise because usually he only pays me with Hostess cupcakes.

I am friends with anyone who gives me money. I especially like those guys who drive up to me in their nice sports cars when I'm just standing on the corner licking a lollipop at 1 AM. I don't know why, but they like to give me money like crazy just for being myself. They've even called me their own personal star. Take that, Molly!

I am anxiously awaiting your reply, my dear friend.

Sally

New Found Star

Mr. Arwan's email.
Sally received a response to this email!

My Long, Lost Friend

In one of my previous posts, I wrote about some random number in Michigan who kept sending me picture texts.

The last text I had received from them was waaaaaaaay back in August. Yet, today, as I was cleaning, my phone vibrates. Seriously wondering who would text me in the wee hours of the morning (11:00 AM), I'm hesitant to look at the text I'd received. Much to my surprise and sheer delight, it was Random Michigan Number!!! Oh, how I've missed thee and the excitement thou brings into my life.

Their text:

Lunch at Sushi Thai in Cary NC

I don't know why Random Michigan Number feels the need to share with me everywhere they eat. They probably know that I enjoy eating from the fact that I named my cat after chocolate, but then again, I don't know. Maybe they send a mass text message to everyone in their contact list bragging about everywhere they've eaten in the country. And somehow, I'm in their contacts. Fine by me, whatever floats your boat...

My reply text:

Skittles Lunch in Bed

Their next text: Omigosh!
Guess I won't be hearing from Random Michigan Number again for a long while (give or take 6 months). 'Til next time...and I must say, I'm really looking forward to a picture of a grilled cheese sandwich with the caption Lunch in Hawaii. Because only then would I be jealous.

RMN sent me another picture--in less than 6 months, too. :) I think (s)he may just ♥ me.

(Not Cute) Pet-Peeves

1. When your and you're are used interchangeably.
Hey, your cool. Is that you're dog? I think your my new best friend. Can I be you're valentine? See, isn't that annoying?

2. Those who feel the need to name their kid something weird.
We all know about Gwyneth Paltrow and Apple. Apple????? Might as well have named your precious daughter Watermelon. There's no difference--you're kid is still a fruit. So, we've all heard of the words apple and watermelon. But what do you do when someone makes up a word and names their kid that? It's like the parents' thought process is, I have a name that, like, people have heard of. I don't like it when people can read my name and pronounce it on the first try. I want to make teachers who are calling roll butcher my child's name, so then the teacher will have to ask if she pronounced the child's name correctly, and the kid can be so used to his name being butchered that he's expecting it to be butchered, and he's proud of this fact, and the fact that he can make the teacher look stupid for saying his name incorrectly.

3. People who liked Napoleon Dynamite, or those that continue to quote it.
That movie is lame. I didn't laugh once throughout the whole thing. People told me I'd like it better if I saw it more than once. Well, guess what! I watched it about 35 times (because BYU students were obsessed with it at the time) and I still think it's horribly stupid. If you want to quote something good, I suggest watching Dumb and Dumber. I mean, compare the quotes: Vote For Pedro vs. We Got No Food, No Jobs, Our Pets' Heads Are Falling Off!

4. Skinny girls who think they're fat.
You know what I'm talking about. You walk into a room and there's, like, this 5'10" model-like girl who's pretty and gorgeous and all that junk. You scan her over and within a second you tell yourself that she can't weigh more than 105 pounds. Then, when she's offered her a saltine cracker, "Oh no, dahlin', I'm watching my figure. I've been on Weight Watchers all my life and I need to keep this weight. If I gain three pounds I would absolutely die!! That would be the end of me. In fact, I need to lose 10 more pounds--you can never lose enough, sweetie. I won't stop criticizing myself and making those around me feel uncomfortable until I look like Karen Carpenter."

5. People who are happy ALL THE TIME.
Yeah, positive people are nice to be around, but if your happy during every circumstance, every bad situation, every single little thing, I'm going to think your fake, or a robot whose button is set on Uncontrollable Optimism...or something. "Oh hey, guys, I just got a flat tire on the freeway, but it's super fantastic because I still have three good tires. I mean these other tires are practically new and they do their job so well. I really love my tires! Having three tires is just dandy because these remaining three can still keep each other company. That reminds me of Three's Company--I love that show! Hehehehe, Jack Tripper is SO funny. But, what's actually funnier is my tire blowing out on the freeway that could've gotten me killed is really a blessing because I swerved from running over the candy wrapper because I thought it was a squirrel...but it wasn't a squirrel! Anyways, I ended up running over a nail instead, but I'm so happy that I put my life and others' in danger to keep from killing an innocent little creature who was somehow lost on the freeway. I love life and even little squirrels deserve the chance to have one! And I'm glad I get to go buy a new tire because I LOVE to shop! So, actually, me getting a flat tire is giving me a reason to go out and shop for a new tire who could be the other three tires' companions. I'm ecstatic about the whole situation..."

Oh, I see you're not smiling anymore, huh? What's there not to be happy about?

A Big, Fat Thumbs Up

What's not to love about Megan Fox? She is an attractive young lady (with good morals, I'm sure), is...uh...in movies, and...she's foxy (pun intended). Well, guess what, I can relate to her. We're basically, like, the same person because of one thing--no, not because we both (ironically) didn't make the cut for People's "100 Most Beautiful" people of the year edition (pshh, I don't care that I wasn't chosen. It's not as if I need a magazine to tell me who's beautiful. I can just look in the mirror for that). What connection do I have to Megan Fox, then? It's simple: Our thumbs. Love thumbody? Yes, I do.

I never thought that thumbs were a big deal. I mean, they only make life easier by helping you hold or grip things, so, seriously, what's the big deal? But this story if totally opposite for Megan. Her thumbs are, apparently, her downfall. Her thumb problem has guys now giving her a rating of 8.4/10 instead of 9.8/10! Oh, the horror. And, well, no one cares what my thumbs look like (heck, even I don't).

I thought that I was the only person in the world with my kind of thumbs--which, in a way, made me unique. Thumbs up, Shannon. But, then, during my freshman year at BYU, I met another girl who had thumbs that looked like mine. Whaaaaaaaaaaa? To make the situation even more confusing, this girl and I were both born on the same day of the same year. Whaaaaaaaaaa? So, then I started to try and figure out this weird-looking-thumb-situation and try to make sense out of the whole thing. The only reasonable conclusion in my mind was that only people who were born on my birthday have my kind of thumbs. Then, Megan Fox had to come along and expose to the world her thumbs. Thanks for stealing the limelight, Megan.

I don't watch football, but I guess during a 2010 Superbowl commercial, Megan starred in a Motorola ad, along with her fine acting skills. What's this have to do with thumbs? Well, from what I read the next day on the ever informative Yahoo! news, Motorola had hired a hand model to replace Megan's up-close hand shots. Why? Because if the public saw what Megan's thumbs really looked like, they'd focus more on her thumbs than on the phone they were trying to sell. Way to steal the limelight from everyone, Megan, geez. This Yahoo! article also informed me what exactly type of thumbs I have. I just thought they were Shannon-and-people-born-on-Shannon's-birthday thumbs, but I found out there's a technical name: Brachydactyly. To make it simple, it means our thumbs look like this:

Our thumbs are short and fat!

Just because we have alien thumbs doesn't mean we have a green thumb. But it does mean that we are experts at pushing thumbtacks into the wall. And we're also good at...oh, I don't know. How about this scenario: your friend is hammering a nail into the floor, but the hammer accidentally slips and instead of hitting the nail on the head, it hits your friend's thumb. Now your friend is probably walking around with a huge swollen thumb. Well, I'm good at looking like I have a huge swollen thumb, without actually hitting my thumb with a hammer. It's not even painful.

However, it's still easier to think of things we're not very skillful at (like texting, my thumb is too fat to fit on one button. My text recipients usually get results like: qr0qy#i0 instead of: hi how r u). Uh, having fat thumbs also makes it difficult to bowl. Yeah, sometimes my thumb gets stuck in the ball. Yeah...it really happens. Annnnd, I can't even do sign language. Uh, every time a student in my class farted, and I signed to them asking if they needed the bathroom, the kids probably thought I was shaking my fist at them in anger (my thumb is too short to even show up between my fingers). Makes sense. Unfortunately, I recognized that my dream of ever becoming a rock star fell flat (not B-flatflat, either) when I finished my growth spurt and realized that my hands would always be the size of a fourth grader's. In fact, I stopped taking piano lessons after three years because once I got into the hard stuff, my thumbs didn't have the ability to reach the needed keys. Looking on the bright side, I guess I could always play the ukulele for my music career. Sadly, though, I think this instrument is still too massive for my fingers and thumb.

But, still, the only reason I didn't make People's 100 Most Beautiful list is just because my thumbs are holding me back. I have to quote The Rolling Stones and say to People:

Under my thumb

[are] the [people] who once pushed me around

(and I hope it hurt being squished by my sausages. m.wp0###y0. [Dang you.])