Petty shit annoys me, as I’m sure it does everyone else. For today, the annoyance takes the form of a fundraising solicitation in the mail. I think if you (a) forced me to be psychologically evaluated because of what I write and (b) showed me the door, you should take me the fuck off of your donor list. Seriously.

Yeah, a certain organization by which I may or may not have been employed has been sending me requests for cashola and sending out their feel good, shiny publications meant to warm the cockles of my check-writing self this holiday season. Ah, no. While I deeply appreciate their keen sense of irony in requesting my money (hard come by, such as it is), I be will adding them to my charitable contribution list somewhere far below any place of worship and/or the GOP.

In other words I will be giving them my money exactly never. If I could get away with it, without lawyers coming up my more uncomfortable orifices, I would encourage others to decline their appeals as well. Not just for the petty and obvious reasons of why I wouldn’t want to write them a check, but because the waste in ratio to their third world economy-sized endowment just doesn’t appeal. (Ha, fucking, ha, appeal, like for charity.)

Anyway, inappropriate fundraising aside, one of modern technologies creepy contributions is being able to monitor stalking behavior. Nothing stands the hair up on my neck quite like noticing my web statistics show a Google search with my first AND last name originating from a place I once worked. Arguably, I made a couple of friends there so it could be benign, but seeing that search (or ones like it) every month is more willy-inducing than a mouse in the house at 3 a.m.