Sorry, wrong number

When people call and leave a message that makes it obvious that they’ve gotten a wrong number, I usually try to call them back and let them know. I do it so they can then contact the right person and actually communicate whatever it is that they wanted to say to whomever they actually wanted to say it to. About half the time, though, the callers get a little bit pissy when I inform them of their error. Sometimes they even argue with me, not quite getting it when I insist that I really don’t know Ezra or Laura or whomever. And they almost never thank me, even though I’m going out of my way to do them a favour.

That’s just one more bit of evidence, I guess, that the vast majority of people are jerks. Or idiots. Not that I really needed more evidence of this…

Seems like…

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Every time I go on vacation, especially to Canada, I come home with a car full of nothing but books and groceries. Does that make me a freak?

Actually, I came back with one very special souvenir as well. But I’m not talking about that yet.

Videolog: Where Do the Boys Go

Men Without Hats
Where Do the Boys Go (1984)

Another of those bands I don’t think I ever realized was from Canada.

Some part of me wants to follow this up with “What Do Boys Dream” by Joan Armatrading but I don’t think there’s a video for that. Of course, I could be mistaken.