Dear friend-of-my-neighbor,
Next time you park your car in front of my house during a blizzard that drops 3 feet of snow I’m going to go out early and bury your fucking car so you can’t get it out again until spring. THEY COULDN’T PLOW BECAUSE OF YOU!!!
Grrrr.
It’s all volunteer. The person now in charge of the pantry is a control freak, to the point of finding an excuse to let go of all former volunteers and replacing them with members of her own family. Now that she is also junior warden of the church and best friends with the senior warden, there is absolutely no way to stop her from slowly making it fail. On my last day working there, she was telling a lot of long-time clients, a lot of whom where homeless, that unless they had addresses in two particular zip codes we wouldn’t be serving them any longer. Then she turned to me and said,within earshot of the clients, “We have to do this because a lot of them are just lying about how many people are in their families and just turning right back around and selling the extra food on the black market!”
I have a friend that used to get those until she tried the Paleo/Primal diet. She was at the point of desperation and willing to try anything. she says she now doesn’t have to anticipate the weather changes and both she and her husband are down to thier high school sizes. She really like to cook and is a Pampered Chef sales rep and is always posting what she cooked. her meal look delicios.
It may not work for you but might worth a try.
The hell? Who is so stupid to think there’s a black market for food in the US? Has Fox been telling people that homeless people are living high on the hog from all the $ they get from selling Wonderbread donations to shady carb-junkies jonesing for a fix?
The woman’s got the sensitivity of a brick, and she won’t lift a finger unless she is the one totally in control. At the last annual meeting there was supposed to be a potluck, and she was put in charge of it. It was announced that she would email people to coordinate who would be bringing what…but no one received any emails. Last Sunday after the annual meeting there were tables full of food, all prepared by her…and a hall full of pissed-off parishioners who either didn’t get to bring their signature dishes, or went ahead and brought them, only to have them shoved into the refrigerator to be brought out “if it looks like we really need it.”
Ho-lee crap, Czarcasm. On the face of it, it looks like you might do well to start looking for another congregation to join.
… is she confusing The Endless Steppe with contemporary journalism? Because they do that in The Endless Steppe. In Siberia. In the 1940s.
I only went through all this shit to keep that food pantry open, even to the point of becoming a junior warden on the BAC for the last four years. I guess it’s time to wrangle money out of another group.
Having once tried the “can you live on what you get from public assistance diet” I have to say that Churches help a lot. Food stamps would have barely got me thru, but adding in what Churches, etc supplied I saw that one could get plenty of calories- on a pretty bland diet, sure.
Thank you for doing this. Myself I do the Second Harvest Food Bank.
That’s actually my plan now. The storage place does have a dumpster for clients to use, so once or twice a week WE are going to stop after work, drag some boxes over to the dumpster, pull out any paperwork we see and bag it for shredding and dump everything else.
I sure do get the bolded part. Those times I’ve actually tried writing stories…certainly not brave enough to try a novel, I hated everything I wrote. Heck, it can take me a month just to write a page in a procedure manual because I keep going back and tweeking the words.
We should try collaborating sometime. How are you with Lovecraftian horror? Dark, dank eldritch tunnels under ancient graveyards? Intrepid future archeologists finding the chamber where Dr. Herbert West’s creations took his head and entombed it in a vat of reanimating fluid. I guess there would have to be some kissy stuff because the hero will need to try anything to save the fair maiden. It would work with the heroine saving her handsome beau as well. I’m not so good with the kissy stuff, but there would be lots of gruesome experiments while learning how the reanimation fluid works, perhaps a nuclear disaster due to the power draw and violence. Lots and LOTS of violence.
(Can anyone tell that I’m still a little ticked at my beloved butthead?)
Cracks up.
Hey!! Give that back!!!
They were finally found, in the basement, de-boxed but still in big opaque plastic bags, so they weren’t recognizable to the three of us who looked for them.
In order to be truly Lovecraftian, the characters must be mid-twenties (the older and not-so-wiser head of the expedition may be as ancient as thirty), hold multiple PhDs, be able to build a distillery which can be switched from moonshine to desalting water with no more work than changing what you place in the pot from nothing but an arm’s-length of garden hose and two empty decanters, shoot anything from derringers to Big Bertha and speak more languages than God.
And since the women must always be nurses or librarians, we can have one who’s a librarian, has a lot of rescue animals including a cat named Lucky, and whose buggy sports an embroidered fish-with-feet (we’re following the “rule of cool”: it doesn’t matter if it’s not logical so long as it’s cool).
Make sure y’all glue gears to everything; then you can call it steam punk…
I understand preventing child accidents is a critical issue.
Now that thats covered . . . . .Is it OKAY if I get the enjoy 3 hours of a football game without having a dead child thrown in my face???
Yes, Mr. and Mrs. Polly Football Hating Prissypants who went to see a chick flick instead of watching the Super Bowl Sunday night, I KNOW “There are more important things than sports” but the point is that thanks to the distraction of sports for 3-4 hours, I get to enjoy grown adults fighting over a ball and forget the horrors of the world. Place your creepy commercial on the news, during The Practice, Greys Anatomy or some other depressing show, just dont shove it down my throat during the Super Bowl.
And, as for “The commercial reached the largest audience possible” then I say if THAT many parents need to be reminded to set up controls to keep their stupid brats from climbing out windows, sticking fingers in sockets, or walking across the street without looking both ways, we need to a helluva lot more help than placing a morbid 30 second ad during a football game.
And we can have corsets and people running around in lots of long underwear! Brilliant!
**russian heel **- I also hate seeing pictures of dead children. I didn’t see the ad you mentioned, but I have a friend who used to post pictures of dead children from war zones on Facebook. I understand that she’s worried about the conflicts in war-torn countries. I’m worried about it too. But you can express these feelings without re-posting gory death pictures online. I ended up unfollowing this friend.
That’s good that there’s a witness! But if it were me, I’d file my own report as well. Volume, and all that.
Best of luck.
I, like most people with chronic migraine have tried every diet known to mankind. I did Atkins, which is fairly similar. I did “clean eating” before it had that name. I tried raw foods. I tried vegetarian. I gave up caffeine, wine, and liquor. I’ve done elimination diets. I’ve contemplated waving a dead chicken around. Nada. No food component.
But TY for the idea. 
Or maybe a nurse who moonlights as a librarian.
What would it take to get rid of her and replace her? Not wishful thinking or whatever, but what concrete steps would have to happen IRL for her to stop ruining such a worthy cause?
Welfare queens are so 90s. Wonderbread queens are where it’s at now.
… with the candlestick.
Adding my voice to the chorus encouraging you to add YOUR voice to the HIPPA complaint chorus.
Please ensure that the chicken is organically raised on non-GMO feed, humanely slaughtered, and then air-chilled. Otherwise it won’t work. Also, you have to put a sparkly bow in its feathers and wave it widdershins. The devil is in the details.