The Greta Feinburg Assault

In July 2009, I decided I needed to play a prank. My best friend, we'll call her "Debbie", was down. I thought a bit about how I could cheer her up, and then she accidentally and without knowledge slapped me in the face with a brilliant idea. She posted an ad on craigslist hoping to sell a dresser because she was moving. She put the information up on her gmail account, so I saw it and looked at it. I didn't need a dresser, but I did need to completely fuck with her day... so I did. My real name is not Greta, thank goodness, and the email address, "ticklemekitten@gmail.com" was made up for the sole purpose of this creepy prank. Here's how it played out: 


I will be this color, and she will be this other color


Hi. I saw your ad for your dresser on craigslist, and I'm interested in hearing more about it. 

How did you acquire this dresser, and what on earth is making you want to sell this lovely piece of art?

I have some ideas regarding its possible use, and it just might be the perfect fit for my 1930's vintage furniture obsession. 

Thanks, and I hope to hear from you. I'm a paraplegic, so I am often on my computer. Cheers. - Greta

Hi, Greta

Thanks for your interest. I bought the dresser last year from a man whose mother had passed. He was selling much of the furniture from her estate and I happened upon this beautiful piece. 

I am selling it because it just won't fit into the apartment I am about to move into. I am pretty sad about giving it up, actually. I love the dresser. I might have mentioned in the Craigslist Ad but it reminds me of a treasure chest. It is really special and I'm sure has tons of history that I'm not even aware of. 

I would love to see it go to a good home, so let me know if you are interested in buying it. Out of curiosity, what would you use it for?  

Hope you have a nice one, 

"Debbie"

Thank you, "Debbie". What a beautiful name. How authentic and unique. 

Well, I have a few ideas about how I could make use of this furniture. I have a rather large collection of kitten calendars that need to be stored. I love kittens, and I would hate to get rid of them. 

I'm also an active member of the BDSM community, and I like to host parties. As a person without leg usage, you can imagine that I'm submissive. But not always. I like to dominate from my rascal scooter. I have some medieval whips and chains that needs some storing, as well as my swing. It would be great to disguise my collection in the dresser since I have a roommate who is a practicing christian and does not approve of BDSM, and does not know about it. 

I am also interested in the mirror function, and would be interested to see how the detailing in the mirror shapes my body. You say it reminds you of a treasure chest? I'd like to put some of my treasures in that chest. I also have a large pornography collection. My roommate does not appreciate my porn fetishes, so hiding it is a must. Currently, all my toys, lube, and plastic devices are hidden in her extra closet, and I think it's time to move them.

Would you be interested in helping me move it? I have a large 3 story apartment, and an elevator, so it could be easy. My paraplegia, which was caused from a fall out of a sex swing at a swingers party, makes it hard for me to do many activities, and my rascal scooter just won't do.

I figured I would be honest with you and tell you about my intent to use the dresser. Even if you're not interested in selling it to me, I'd love to hear back from you, just so I have some peace of mind. Cheers. - Greta

Greta

Wow, that was a lot more information than I needed. I'm just trying to sell a dresser. You are entitled to do whatever you like in the privacy of your own home and I don't judge you for any of it but was it really necessary to divulge such details to a stranger? I don't think drawers stuffed with kitten calenders, African Porno and whips is the fate I imagined for this dresser but really the issue is that I cannot help you move it. Sorry. I don't have a truck. But, since you like kittens, please enjoy the attached photo of my cat, "Dinosaur". 

Enjoy yourself, Greta, and be careful in your swing! 

"Debbie"

"Debbie" attached her photo of her cat, who I've met many times, and am friends with. 

"Debbie", I appreciate your honesty. My lifestyle is unique, and I understand it's not the destiny you had in mind for your pretty dresser. "Dinosaur" is cute. I would like a "Dinosaur" calendar, and then maybe rub some lube on his fur and take him with me to watch in my kink adventures. I'd send you a photo of me, but I have a feeling you already know what I look like. Cheers. - Greta



I sent a follow-up email a little bit later with a that just said "ENJOY!!!!!". I included photo of me. It was a photo of me making out with a bubble machine in the shape of a hippo. I'd post it, but then you'd see my stupid face, and my anonymity would forever be shattered. 

While all of this was going on, "Debbie" was chatting with her mother and sending her mom the emails. At one point, "Debbie" called me to tell me how freaked out she was about the whole thing, and forwarded me all the messages. Not only did "Debbie" email her mother and call me, but her mother emailed EVERYONE SHE WORKS WITH a copy of the email chain. Again, they didn't know it was me until the very last email. The whole thing took about 2 hours, and then "Debbie" called me in hysterical happy tears and said, "Fuck you, Mischief! My ribs hurt from laughing!" It was amazing. 


Side note: This "Debbie" is still my best friend, and sometimes we talk about Greta as if she's real. There's bound to be a paraplegic Jew living in NYC who has a kitten obsession and likes BDSM. 


Now, I have to give credit where credit is due. My friend, "Cheryl", was also there with me, and was somewhat helpful in mastering this slew of emails. So there, "Cheryl"! You have your shout out and now everyone will know that you helped. Also, me and "Debbie" have a best friend named "Carlos" and he was kind of in on it too. But I'm gonna take most of the credit because I'm an asshole and I was the brains behind this awesome operation. 

Please stop LOLing

The title of today's rant has been inspired by the insipid and obnoxious use, misuse, and overuse of the acronym "LOL". To be frank, I hate it. I don't even hate Glenn Beck as much as I hate "LOL". I cringe at the sight of it... also cringe at the sight of Glenn Beck.

Almost as bad as "LOL"

Anyway, I have taken some examples of thoughtless and irreverent "LOLing" from the internets, and will pick said examples apart and destroy them.

Item 1: Person A: "You should have stopped by! I was there! lol"

Person B: "Well, I need to figure out how to find you so I can come visit you lol."

Okay, first of all, this conversation is not at all funny. Nothing about this is funny. I'm not even cracking a smidge of a smile, and you know what... the people writing this weren't either. Person B has left out the period between "you" and "lol" altogether, thus making it grammatically awful too.

"Hahaha! I side with Don here. Video games are so much better than football. Lol." You already said "Hahaha", which essentially tells your reader you're laughing like a lunatic, so the "LOL" is extraneous and perhaps implies that your reader doesn't understand the meaning of "Hahaha!".

"We got about 18 inches or maybe 2 feet... a wicked lot of snow. LOL." I mean, I guess this is fine since snow is absolutely hysterical.

Item 2: The MAN use of "LOL". Now, I love an effeminate man just as much as the next non-homophobic person, but there's essentially nothing less manly than when a dude types "lol". I mean, where does it fit? "Hey, Gene. I'm just writing you this text to let you know I hit 240 lbs on the leg press yesterday. I love our gym bromance. LOL" Or "Mitch, can you pick me up a latte at Starbucks? I left my debt card in my running shorts, and the wife won't bring it to me. LOL" Stop it, men.

Item 3: This isn't an item, but an example just how jaded I happen to be. My friend texted me the other day while sick and said "I'm an ugly fuck in a sweatsuit." When I read this text, I LAUGHED OUT LOUD!!! I wrote a text back saying "That made me hysterically laugh." LOL WOULD have been appropriate at that moment, because I was laughing, and it was noisy, but I refused to abbreviate. LOL means nothing to me. You could just thrust it into any written conversation. It's like hearing someone snore, or watching a GOP debate. It's useless and doesn't help anyone.

There will be a post one day, (probably soon), that discusses the disdain, resentment and misery I feel when people can't spell "you're" and "your". I'm not sure I have the energy for it now, so it'll have to wait. But while we're on the subject of grammar and things, I'll share this. It's fantastic!

Now, as a follow up to my first blog, I'd like to mention the fact that my parents read it. I had some sort of massive brain failure while I was on the phone with my mom, and I told her about it. The whole concept confused my dad. First, I tried telling my mother, who is BEYOND inept at computers, how to find the site. She googles "mischief and the meatball" not knowing that she could just type in the URL. She doesn't know what a URL is so I spared myself the agony of explaining it from 2,597 miles away. A few examples of what she found are:

1. Mischief managed minus powerpuff girls movie plus meatball sub?

2. Gluten free mischief: Mama's meatballs and fettucini.

Number 2 sounds pretty good. Maybe I'll check that out.

My dad was in the background, and apparently does not know what a blog is. I can hear him saying, "She has a blog? I don't understand." What's not to understand? Then, as my mother is reading it out loud to him... and me over the phone, I hear him say "My daughter is nuts." Congrats, father. It took you 28 years to figure that out. Very astute. Also, the hardest my mother laughed was when she read the Watergate reference. It really shows her age. Then I suggested she share the blog link with her friends. Her reply: "I might and I might not. You don't identify yourself on here do you?" Obviously, my parents are proud. And I think I just really gave myself the ultimate life wedgie. I shared this link with my parents.... WHY?!?! Maybe they'll forget about it if I never talk about it again. Maybe they'll love it, and if I fail at everything else, they'll be like, "Well, we loved her blog, so we're still proud." Or they'll lie and tell me they don't read it, when they do, and I'll slip up and mention something horrible on here that gets me in the shit house with them. I mean, it's not like they didn't already know that they produced a hell raiser bent on mild social disruption and minimal chaos. Regardless of what they think, great life choice sharing that link, Mischief. Maybe my photo belongs in the first post next to Madoff.

Mom, pops, if you're reading this, dammit.

So this is blogging?

Readers,

I'd like to apologize to you that you have nothing better to do than read my blog/look at my photographs. You will learn nothing from this. In fact, you may walk away dumber. If you choose to stay, you'll wander off knowing lots of irrelevant tidbits about my dog, and have a tenuous grasp on what clinical insanity looks like. If you're still reading this, I assume that you're either A: legally insane yourself, and want to feel less alone knowing there's someone out there who is also batshit nuts, or B: your backspace button is frozen, and you're about to reboot your computer. Either way, sorry. You shoulda bought a Mac.

Now I'm gonna take a hot second and explain the name of this blog. Mischief is defined (on dictionary.com) as: conduct or activity that playfully causes petty annoyance. That definition works for me. I find myself getting into mischief frequently. I like pranks, making things dirty, curse words, offensive gesticulation, and making a lot of noise. I'm not an anarchist, as I have no organization or message behind my mischief, but I'm really just a shit-maker... constantly making a mess with the hopes of little-to-no consequence. So far, I've managed to tread lightly enough to keep myself out of prison. Win? The meatball is my faithful and stupid dog. That's not her real name, but an alias she picked for herself sometime during the Watergate scandal. As you can see, she's robust, she's pretty, and she's super immodest. Her lack of modesty and sheer lack of understanding consequences of her own mischief astounds me. But then again, she's a dog, and doesn't have the forethought to not make bad life choices, like people such as... Bernie Madoff or Casey Anthony. Sorry, that wasn't a hot second. I've never been good at brevity anyway.

Dumb with T-Rex arms

Smart

Also smart

Moving on... I'd like to be clear that the fluffy monster that is my dog is the light of my weird little life. I have no kids, I have no job, and I get cold easily, so we're perfect together. Now, I'm not a lazy asshole 24/7... I am a student. One day I'll be working in a hospital taking care of little children people, and making them smile. The perk of being a playful jerk of an adult is the fact that kids really like you. If I'm at a party with 82 adults and 2 kids, I will find the children, and they will be my friend. Plus, I really like trampolines, finger painting, poop jokes and building forts, so I'm the ideal pal for a child ages 6-12 or so... or even older if you're like me. I just typed that last rambling of a sentence, and realized I have done ALL of the above with adults within the last year. My friends are adult babies. I like that. Meatball likes kids too. She likes cats. She likes mice. She does not like dogs. I can only assume she's confused about her identity, and thinks she's a giant cat. She sleeps all day, doesn't understand fetch, cannot swim, (and that's not an exaggeration), and fiercely tries to cover up all evidence that she's gone poop... even if it's indoors. She has no awareness that her tail is in fact attached to her ass, and she prefers cat food over dog food. I think she'd prefer any food over that pricy-as-shit food she eats that's supposed to make her slim down. So far, she's packed on 15 with this food, so I'm going to deduce that it's not working. Her not-so-obvious people food favorites are hardboiled egg yolks, cheese and tomatoes. She'd really like omelets.

Please stay tuned for photos of Meatball, mischievous stories, evidence of past pranks, and rants, as about 98% of things I see deserve social commentary. *M&M