No Good Deed Goes Unpunished

I love them court shows. One that I followed religiously, renewing heavy TV viewing that I had forsaken since I was a kid… so over 20 years… I found is sometimes staged or reenacted.

Anyway, I just discovered a new one today, with a 3-judge panel, kinda like SCOTUS, where the majority ruling is how the verdict goes down.

The meaner the judge(s), the more dramatic, and that is definitely what I’m all about when watching from the comfort of a living room.

Anyway the meanest, no-nonsense of the 3, the guy in the trio, mentioned a saying that I’ve repeated so many times myself that I can’t even remember… and definitely live believing:

No good deed goes unpunished.

Now at least in some cases Good Samaritan Law applies… but I’m talking about in general and not rescuing someone from a car stuck on a train track.

I go on eBay and look at items a lot. I tend to shy away from one even if it is really low in price if it has a couple of bidders. I hate the bidding war, hate the complex a bidding war can create… but here’s a bit of a redeeming factor:

In the case where there is one bidder or even a Watcher, I hate being THAT guy that dashed the person’s dream of snagging a great deal… especially when there are several others of the same item for barely a little more in cost.

I mean what if it’s a kid using what change he/she has to buy that videogame for $5 bucks?

Being the nice guy I am, I try to find an alternative, ‘Buy Now’ option even if I take a monetary hit for it. Good Kar… I mean I feel better about it in general.

No good deed goes unpunished.

I find a videogame I nostalgically was reminded of recently, no bidders, low price… and add it to my Watch List, conscious of the expiry of the listing.

Well, I go to buy it finally…

…and there is a bid on it, with a range at least enough to vanquish the two bids I tried.

I’m so glad to have people return the favor on how I philosophically deal with things.

No good deed goes unpunished.

The moral of this precautionary tale is that I hope others aren’t a person with tire tracks on their face like I have.

Don’t let this hideous world do that to ya. It’s a thankless place.

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Living With The Illuminati

“Ever have the feeling you was being (sic) watched?”

Some things are too awful to just be coincidence.

“Perfect storms” are just perfect cover ups.

Laptop wigged-out at a very financially inconvenient time.

Wish I had an ear to bend… but everyone is too busy… ignoring my texts.

No, no… this isn’t just about a laptop.

The laptop is just that junction in the movie where things hit rock-bottom… you know… that part in Fargo where he just gives up scraping the ice off the windshield and throws a tantrum?

Yeah, we’re there… Again.

Maybe I can pick this apart like the way brilliant NFL coaches pick apart opposing teams.

Loss of routine really destroys OCD people like me.

Methodically, first it’s the bed sheets. They were horrible to begin with.

Have too many blankets you’re not using? Dump TEN of ’em onto the bed of someone you’re collecting rent from.

Part II is changing them later when he is at work… for whatever reason.

I mean I guess an autistic weird guy like myself might’ve sweated a lot in one night, meriting they be changed…

Then there’s stuff being rearranged constantly, added or subtracted.

Thanks, but no thanks.

Have what I’m going to eat tonight… so put a sandwich in the fridge that has to be eaten today.

I’ll just have what I was GOING to have the day after tomorrow… after my fasting day.

One day in the freeze.

Finally an Eat Day.

Nope, more food put in. I mean, I guess I could freeze IT and just do what I had planned.

Why can’t weird people leave weird people alone?

Yes, you are weird, too.

As my 3rd-grade teacher always would say (Ironically, a teacher that hated my guts):

“You know who you are.”

 

 

“I HATE hearing that…”

After my brother left home abruptly at age 20… leaving me with my cousin who I didn’t jive with anyway, I knew I was in trouble. Life was already boring as it was. With Bro gone, I spent the bulk of the following winter heavy on Netflix.

Having no idea which movies would have a “heavy” impact, I looked up reputed ones… concentrating on rated ‘R’ since it seems that the more devoted, shaggy directors will seek that rating just to make their movie seem contemporary… even if all it is is because the ‘f’ word is said more than two times.

One of the first was “Saving Private Ryan,” and those were tough times so I was appreciating every nuance of anything that said anything about everything that is trying to the human spirit… and that movie is one of the best at it… setting the tone for me to pursue a bunch of other military-themed movies and documentaries… about self-sacrifice and putting your fellow soldier and country above yourself… being in a situation so fearsome, ugly and far away from home that you frequently mention and contemplate all of the things most precious to you… but then ultimately making the decision to say goodbye to all of that… and even ON foreign soil… in order to “do your job.”

Anyway, in one documentary a soldier in an interview said he absolutely HATED hearing, “You did what you had to do,” and that did nothing to help him make sense of his experiences at war.

Well, today my football team lost… and the empty cliche’ cache of overused and vague go-to phrases poured out on cue.

One of the more common and notorious is, “We’ll get ’em next year.”

I HATE hearing that.

As Madden said, the sport evolves so fast…

Basically the next year you can’t bring the same template with a few minor adjustments…

No re-signing old guys past their prime who have an asking price past the salary cap.

“We’ll get ’em next year.”

I HATE hearing that.

Further Proof Of The Curse

I seem to be here to be a champion of ‘Asian rights.’

Nah. Make no mistake.

Make no mistake… I want to improve things for myself… but neither do I benefit from the fortunes of other Asians… but… I’m not here to add to them, either.

I DO, however, fall victim to their shortcomings.

We “all look alike” as long as we’re doing things people don’t like… or looking like something people don’t like.

We seem to only be individuals when someone does something good.

‘Well, that was THAT person. That’s not YOU.’

Yet, when someone is a terrible driver or lives obtusely, picking toejam with a pair of chopsticks, suddenly we “all look alike.”

Humanity at its usual finest.

There is an ongoing debate about the race of that son of Noah who poked fun of his father being passed-out-drunk… when he should have covered him up and preserved his dignity and cordoned off the tent to his siblings instead of immaturely endorsing it going, ‘Hey! Come here!’

Given how my life has gone I have almost become certain that he was the Asian child.

I may be competing with another race that has made claim or been the victim of the claim that that son of Noah was the first of their race.

I think this post lays that to rest.

“Cagehouses,” where some Asians reside.*

I’ll bring the point of the theme home a bit later.