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November 27, 2005

Hey, smart people. Help me.

My inbox has been under seige for the past week or so, thanks to some new breed of spam mail or whatever. Hundreds of 'em by the hour, driving me not-so-slowly insane: Paris Hilton and Nicole Richie or Your IP was logged or smtp mail failed, &c. &c. Having conducted a cursory scan of the tech headlines, I'm aware that I'm just another pathetic victim -- but the fact that I'm not alone in my woes translates into little solace.

So: Is there any sort of extension I can add to Thunderbird to help alleviate this problem? Or perhaps make the junk filter more effective? I know I'm just short of incompetent on such matters, but I think I have my mail settings all proper-like. I'm sure some wonderful genius out there has a solution, so hit me. Please. Before I turn to violence.

posted by jessica at 02:16 PM | Comments (0)

November 23, 2005

You know you're in a red state when...

Instead of Ellen, local NBC shows the Tony Danza Show at 10 a.m.

posted by jessica at 05:29 PM | Comments (0)

November 15, 2005

Christ, it happened again.

Another Zales commercial. Same as the one before, except with an Orlando Bloom lookalike pacing the streets, again in slo-mo, again set to Under Pressure. He sees signs everywhere -- in the sky, in the leaves -- that say, "Ask her." He returns to the apartment of his beautiful girlfriend, his eyes wide and scared, and pulls out a diamond solitare engagement ring. And, again, I'm all welled up inside.

Why does NBC keep running this crap before I've had my coffee? It just seems unfair, kicking me while I'm down.

posted by jessica at 07:42 AM | Comments (0)

November 09, 2005

Hello, my name is Basket Case

Just saw this commercial: A handsome man is walking through the snowy streets, amongst the holiday shoppers. David Bowie's Under Pressure is playing. Despite the frenzied pace of everyone around him, he moves in slow motion, drifting through crowds of people (pressure on people, people on the streets). He glides home to his lovely brownstone, where his Banana Republic-beautiful girlfriend/wife is trimming the tree. He sits down, looks at her as if he's about to unload a tremendous weight, and takes out a small velvet box. In it, a pair of diamond solitaire earrings. From Zales. Beautiful.

And I'm crying, like the big fat fallopian tube that I am.

posted by jessica at 07:50 AM | Comments (0)