1. Clean the Gutter
Clean the gutter, huh? Let me get this straight, you're trying to tell me that, because of a few leaves in my neighbor's backyard -- which I'll have you know is thousands of miles away, or at least, the leaf equivalent of thousands of miles away -- that's somehow proof that I should deeply inconvenience myself for possibly as much as an hour every month or two, just to pull some alleged muck out of a pipe, muck that as far as I can tell no one can even prove exists?
I don't know what sort of pseudo-science you're using here, but from where I'm standing our gutter is perfectly clean -- it's so clean I can actually see pure rainwater flowing over the front edge of it.
Yessir, from where I'm standing that gutter looks pretty darn clear.
2. Balance Checkbook
You know, I have to say I have a pretty hard time believing your argument that the $1325.18 I started with at the end of last February, minus the...$17,819.76 I've spent from this account since then leaves me with a $-16,494.58 balance.
Have you ever seen a negative dollar bill? Because I sure as hell haven't.
Anyway, it's completely impossible to know, even assuming your "negative balance" theory were halfway plausible, exactly what that negative balance might be right now. What if I had some direct deposits into that account? Or some expenditures I didn't write down? It is pretty much impossible to separate out what -- if any -- human impact there was on this account balance.
Not "literally" impossible, but it would require the kind of basic bookkeeping that guys like me just don't have any truck with. I want facts, not figures, okay?
Oh, and, and, at various points in the past, this balance was much, much lower -- balances might just shift naturally, you know?
You really believe this mystical "negative numbers" mumbo jumbo? How about you take a look at the Ferrari in my garage that your "negative balance" bought me. The evidence is right in front of you.
Dealers don't accept negative dollars as payment. They don't accept traveler's checks, either, incidentally.
3. Follow-up on e-mails
You keep trying to tell me that I have e-mails to follow up on, but as it turns out, I recently discovered a cache of secret e-mails between myself and various persons in my address book -- e-mails you people have been trying to hide from the honest citizens of the world -- that prove beyond a shadow of a doubt that I have already followed up with e-mails.
What do you mean "what about the other e-mails that I've received since then?" Did you even hear what I just told you? Secret cache. Secret. Cache.
4. Call Mom
Can you believe this? My mother has one 80th birthday a month ago, and all of a sudden it proves that I should call her, "preferably at some point in the past." As though somehow my not calling this time is "new" or "worse" or "important, regardless of what else you can dredge up about other isolated instances of filial shittiness."
You think this is late? I was three weeks later in '96. Take a look at 1984. That year I didn't call her to say Merry Christmas 1983 until Easter. According to my records, in 1961, the first year they started keeping records on me, beginning with my birth certificate, I didn't complete even a single call to her.
I think I've proven my point.
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