I have always depended on the benign neglect of strange databases

6 08 2013

Sorry, Blanche, there are no benign databases left, and I need to erase this post now from my so called serious site. Because you see, it’s not that funny anymore. Goodbye, Blanche. It may not be a streetcar named Desire, just a bus named after a dog. But at least it will get you out of town before the surfer robot killing squads show up.


You need a myface page (like you need another hole in your head)

22 09 2009

I finally got on facebook this weekend and I can’t believe it.  I can’t believe I’ve waited this long to find such a colossal way to dispose of time. 

I really had no idea.  I had no idea that  stumbling instructionless through cyberspace could turn-up so many lost friends and relatives.  Here is where they’ve all been and why none of them will ever return an email or pick up their phones.  

Why bother with obsolete one-on-one communications when you can just as easily “share” it on your wall and enjoy the group mind at work?  Nevermind that not everyone on the planet is on myface.  Some are on spacebook.  And some aren’t even on that, although this is hard for some people to believe.

 And oh the shame, the shame of my late entrance to the party.  Not to mention the irritation.  Couldn’t those who had arrived earlier have left a little crumb trail or provided any warning?  

They could have warned, for example, that maybe signing up all your friends before trying out the software isn’t the smartest.  But that’s exactly what fb has you do: get’s you linked in to your entire network without so much as a single instruction as to who is receiving what.   Then you get to publically fumble around trying to learn the inane ways of their crabby little website.  Since helpful explanations aren’t exactly jumping off the page to bite you on the ass, it’s a hit or miss prospect – with an audience.  That is so messed up.

The good news is, starting facebook inspired me to come post a Bad Apple for the first time in way too long.  Apparently, one colossal “use” of cybertime can lead to another.

Bad Apple Lasts One Whole Year!!

8 12 2007

To all those folks who land here at Bad Apple hoping to find out just how long a bad apple will last — a surprisingly large number of you, I must report — well, apparently it can last at least a year or more, and just get better and bad-er. 

What is the secret to this amazing longevity of attention span on my part to keep this extraordinary flow of sass coming?  I can only attribute my proliferation of perilous word journeys, aka “posts,” to having hit a vein in my rotten niche of the universe and so far, the content just burbles forth like molten lava from a secret cesspool spring in the land of crack-addicted wood elves. In other words, “Jenna Say, ‘Qua,‘” as the Frenchies put it.

I will admit, I gain almost endless inspiration from the theme of rotten, stinky stuff, and in the future I do hope to further explore the connection between historically-bad smells and inspired participatory democracy.  You see, Bad Apple is not out rotting in a vacuum or some remote backwoods desert planet.  Her decay is firmly rooted in the context of this modern mess we’ve made of the world.  To review: Bad smells equals better government.  That’s why we all need to turn a little rotten, develop our soft spots and otherwise devote ourselves to the making of stink.

That said, I feel I would be derelict to not thank a few of the characters who have made Bad Apple’s first year of Internet life so colorful and fun.  I am of course referring to the cannibal chickens, Terminato the Killer Tomato, Little Spud Rasta, not to mention all the wood elves, celebrity mayors, etc., my long-suffering partner Hank, and of course, everyone who slighted me in the slightest or otherwise fed the incredible beast in my breast, born in a blog, aka Bad Apple.

And thanks all of you readers, and the thousands of page views you have given to me.  It’s so great to know somebody out there supports this kind of rot.  And I would like to understand you more, and know the answer to the incredible conundrum of just how long a bad apple can last, and whether you can use it to make some kind of intoxicating drink.  So if you know the answers, or even if you don’t, you are welcome to leave a comment anytime, and join the incredible unpredictable madness that is actually the only sane path in this crazy, messed up section of God’s company town.  

In the future, everything will be made perfectly clear.  With enough time and cider, we’re all going to eventually find out the answer to the question that keeps me guessing: Just how bad can an apple be??

A Numbers Story: Today’s Learn to Write From Spam Lesson

20 07 2007

Some say spam is worse than worthless, but you can learn how to write real good from spam, I swear.  Today we examine one spammer’s statistics.  So let’s go ahead and take a look at the Spam of the Day, a perky little invite from someone named Blanche who writes:

 Good day,

Want to find a f*ckbuddy who lives near you?
92% of our members already got laid with the help of our dating system.

What else? it doesn’t cost a dime!

Bad Apple responds:

Dear Blanche,
Thanks for contacting me regarding finding a f*ckbuddy in my town — that’s quite tempting!  Your pitch gets points in the “short and sweet” category, but you could use some work on working those statistics, girl!

First off I gotta ask how you come by your numbers here, Ms. Chiquita Bonita?  What, you been exit polling the dates to determine your laid-to-unlaid ratio?  That’ll make you real popular, I bet. Or maybe you send a survey for folks to fill out after the date.  If so, try to get a few more details, okay?

Here’s an example of the type of more qualitative-style question you could be asking:

On a scale of one to ten, how laid would you say you got? One being “not real laid,” ten being “extremely laid.” So what is it, buddy?

Blanche, another point just between you me and the Viagra post: I have a trickling suspicion that what we are seeing here is a bit of “over reporting” on the male side of the equation, if you know what I mean.  A little wishful thinking by the fella’s – that’s what I’m guessing.  Here’s one way to check:  If the eight percent of folk who failed to find f*ckbuddy’s are ALL women, then probably that 92 percent figure is about as reliable as a story overheard in the middle-school boys’ locker room. 

(This assumes of course that your f*ckbuddy-finding service is mostly hetero.  If it isn’t, then, well, never mind.)

Oh, another lesson we could all learn from Blanche: Always proofread you spams, and also, try to sign your spam, even if it’s just a pseudonym.  Unsigned spam is so impersonal.

Blanche, nice try on this one!  I don’t buy your numbers, not for one minute.  But don’t change and never, never give up!  Thanks for thinking of me, and next time, remember to work those statistics, girl! 

Spambuddies forever, 

Bad Apple

Cross-Site Pimping Solves Death-Threat Placement Woes

9 07 2007

I was really upset about getting my first death threat blog comment last week.   I mean, it was a perfectly good death threat and completely legitimate — I promise you I didn’t send it to myself.  What irked me was where my would-be assassin chose to place the threat — hidden away on some obscure page on my cat blog.  Who was ever going to see it there? 

So there I was, the recipient of a perfectly fine death threat, all the proof I needed that finally I was somebody, and I had to let it pend for days and days, wondering what to do about this little matter of context. 

During this same period, as it happens, it came to my attention that I hadn’t been properly cross-pimping my blogs.  For all I knew, there could cats looking for help at Bad Apple, and at the same time, some real rotters trying to figure out life over at Self Help for Cats, when what each of these fools folks needed was me to properly cross-pimp, and set everything straight.

So, brilliant readers, I’m sure you see where this is going…  I’m placing my first death threat below, along with a little response to it I came up with all by myself.  And if you happen to be a cat, or know one, you probably should get over to Self Help for Cats, but please return here to Bad Apple to leave any death threats — if you don’t mind.

So here it is, my very first death threat:

STEVEN ERICK | nukesubmariner@hotmail.com | PresidentoftheUnitedStates | IP:


And here is Bad Apple’s response:

Dear Steve,

Thanks for taking the time to send me my first death threat.  I didn’t expect it so soon in my career, but I promise not to let this early show of success go to my head.

Steve, first of all, was that an attempt at humor when you said “immediately if not sooner”?  If so — good one!  Second of all, Steve, where did you get the idea I worship the Devil?  I never mentioned that. 

Steve, the part about stealing cats to sell in India — I didn’t find that funny one bit.  And in fact, I plan to look into it, Steve, and if I find out you’ve been stealing cats to sell in India then you are going to be in seriously deep yogurt, mister.

Finally, Steve, one last request: Please try to consider where you place the death threat on the site when you leave a death threat.  Context is everything, man.  I’m just trying to be helpful, so don’t bite my head off and please STOP SHOUTING!


Bad Apple

Just Say “Yes” to Saddam’s Millions!

6 07 2007

Today on “Bad Apple Answers Your Spam,” Bad Apple responds to a US Army captain who has found Saddam’s millions, but just needs a few private bank account numbers to start “repatriating” the cash. First, Bad Apple’s response:

Dear Captain,

So glad you contacted me on the matter of repatriating this large wad of money.  Certainly, the vast sums must miss their motherland and want to come home by now.

Captain, sorry about the losses – ever wonder if the dough might be cursed?  On that topic, I don’t see why you are going to give me the larger portion for my troubles, what with you being bombed-at all the time over there in Iraq.  You do realize the only bombardment I’ve seen was on July Fourth right here in Outland, California, and no one was pointing their fireworks at me per se, so it hardly counts – it’s only a randomly-accidental killing field here, Daniel, at least, that is until the drive-by with my name on it comes a-calling.

One more thing, Captain, I’m a wee bit miffed about your question, “Can I Trust You?”  You do know who you are talking to here, right?  Do you have any idea how much work I’ve put into building Bad Apple’s good name, all for you to send it into splinters with those four little words?

It hurts me so much that you don’t know you can trust me. It almost makes me not want to send you my “telephone/fax numbers in order to forward to the African Bank for the release of the funds in your names or your company.”  ALMOST, that is, but I’m not a big enough fool to pass up getting my hands on Saddam’s millions over a small little trifling personal insult like that.  I will be sending you my mother’s bank account and pin number shortly.


Bad Apple

And here is the actual letter:

Capt Daniel L. Unger
of D Company, 2nd Battalion,
22nd Infantry Regiment
Good day,
In order to repatriating the sum of (US$25M) from undisclosed Bank.I have the courage to ask for your assistance to handle this important and confidential project believing that you will never let me down either now or in future.
I am Capt Daniel L. Unger, serving in the US Army of D Company, 2nd Battalion, 22nd Infantary Regiment, Iraq. As you know we are being attacked by insurgents everyday and car bombs. I and my crew members discovered $650M USD in Saddam Hussein’s palace in April 2003.
We managed to move away a total sum US$25 Million Dollars cash out from the $650M USD, mostly 100-dollar bills and was quickly flown out of the war zone and deposited in an undisclosed African Bank.
You can click on the below site for more details about the funds: http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/middle_east/2988455.stm
Unfortunately, the rest of my crew members have lost their lives to the wicked Iraqi insurgents. I therefore seek your partnership to assist me transfer these funds into your account and invest the funds without further delay. I will take 70% while you take the other 30% for all your effort.
If you are interested I will send you the full details but my fear is Can I trust you? When you receive this letter, kindly send me an e-mail signifying your interest including your most confidential telephone/fax numbers in order to forward to the African Bank for the release of the funds in your names or your company.
If interested reply Asap.
Capt. Daniel L. Unger – USA.

Give Me Liberty or Give Me a Job

30 06 2007

Seeing as budget axes tend to fly around this time of year, at least in the public sector, my mother was asking me yesterday if I had a resume online.  “Oh, I have something online all right,” I said, and wondered quietly what my future employer would make of Bad Apple’s Rot Report.

Since I love blogging, and I do love it, I tend to tell people about it and be a blog-vangelist, if you will.  Just this week someone said to me, “I want to start a blog, but I’m afraid to open myself up to it.”

Oh yeah, I once felt like that.  But it’s funny how once you start writing your own blog, things that worried you about blogging just slide away, and you realize you are writing things to the whole freaking world you never really thought you would so much as whisper in public.  And it’s not like I have an anonymous blog and that potential employers and my parents could not find it – they most certainly easily could find it, if they bothered.

However, because even one’s friends and boyfriends can’t seem to hardly be bothered to read one’s blog most of the time, and in fact, one’s readers tend to live in entirely other countries, continents, in parts of the world one has never been, well, one gets lulled into a sense of consequence-less pure expression, from which Bad Apple’s most twisted rationales can find enough rope to hang themselves three times over.

Which is how I find myself contemplating Ben Franklin’s musing on all-day beer in the workplace, defending library workers against saintly public images, and promoting the worst marketing ideas the best minds can generate (not to mention my post on Get Your Ass to Work Day, not exactly written for my future boss’s eyes).  I do my best to be a Bad Apple, although generally, feedback says I’m not all that bad, which in my book is simply not bad enough (and at which point, I refer folks to Baby Needs Salt – nothing says capital “B” Bad like a recipe for baby). 

Of course, this all begs the question, just how bad can an apple be?, and for what purpose?, which naturally I ask myself all the time.

Anyway, you only go around this crap shoot once, right?, so I figure you might as well develop one inch (that’s 2.5 centimeters) of psychic real estate that freely expresses what no one else but you can say.  Sure, the world has some crazy motherfreakers, and you can be one of the better ones, if you just take a chance on the interest of strangers and the disinterest of those closest to you.

Let me take this chance to thank all those bloggers, readers, and nerds that make it so easy for me to resolve all these messy issues and just produce this bruised fruit for you, whoever the heck you might be.  I love it when you comment, you know.