August 29, 2010 by Keli.

 Banks are the current leaders of Institutional Stupidity. I don’t want to name the particular bank involved in this post, but astute readers will find clues throughout this edition; it is likely that most, if not all, of today’s lending institutions are hotbeds of idiocy. If there’s a reader out there who has not been scathed or badly burned after having to deal with a bank, let me know so that I may allow tears of joy to freely stream down my face in your honor. I did cry just such tears the other day after I heard this story from reader Sam:

A duplex was listed for $285,000 in a quiet beach-side town. This building was offered as a short sale. The bank that held the mortgage on this property shall remain nameless.

Sam made an offer, through his real estate agent, to buy the duplex for $225,000. This undesignated bank countered Sam’s offer with their own at $275,000.  Are you with me so far? Because soon this tale’s going to get very complicated.

Sam made a counter offer to the bank’s counter in the sum of $250,000. Sam didn’t know it yet, but he would soon learn that this unnamed bank was run by stupers (short for staggeringly stupid persons). Such stupidity, in this Cinderella story, would work to Sam’s benefit.

A month passed with no word from this bank. Perhaps these bank employees were thinking, dozing, busy foreclosing, eating cheese canapes, bowling, on vacation or sick leave. Sam grew frustrated and was about to give up when the bank gave Sam a counter to his counter offer…the bank came back with $240,000! Sam could have the duplex for $240,000. Yes, that is $10,000 less than the bank’s original counter offer. Sam’s mouth fell open in disbelief for so long, bats moved in mistaking it for a damp cave. Meanwhile, the bank remained clueless, as it was, and is, overrun by stupers.

Unfortunately, short sales and foreclosures are far too commonplace, thanks to the current economy, and most of the people involved do not have happy endings, as Sam did in this case. This is because, quite suddenly, stupidity is rapidly increasing.

As a director of a non-profit legal service, I receive tearful calls daily from desperate people trying to keep their homes. Many of them start the process of modifying their loans only to find that a different department in the heartbreakingly stupid bank has foreclosed because communication is considered a waste of time in institutions run by idiots. These freakishly inane lenders prefer to foreclose and lose money on a home rather than modify and allow the homeowner (ie, the qualified party that the bank made the loan to in the first place) to remain. How idiotic is that?

How do we maintain our sanity in the face of such blatant stupidity? We have to rise above the circumstances (and the mindless) by using the heroic courage that is inside each of us. We have to think our way out and find a solution because remember, most people do not think at all, as it takes effort. Imagine what those of us who do think can do.

Please think.

Keli

Keli@counterfeithumans.com

Posted in Monumental Stupidity | 7 Comments »

July 17, 2010 by Keli.

I have a fairly decent reputation in my neighborhood, which means I am not labeled a stuper (short for an alarmingly stupid person). That is, until recently.

I often walk/run, usually by myself, sometimes with Husband and other times with a dog or two, who are always on the leash (Husband is let off the leash now and then). Neighbors, gardeners and small children cheerfully wave to me, especially one kindly, elderly gent with amazing copper hued hair. He proudly sits behind his Crown Victoria, flashes a bright smile my way and acts delighted that I crossed his path. That is again, until recently.

Here’s why I’ve become the subject of ridicule, disdain and possibly a police investigation. I present Exhibit A:

Her name is Cali. Her stuper owners purchased her last December as a Christmas gift for their children. Cali escapes from her yard on the regular. And follows me or anyone who happens to stroll past her home. Her yard is surrounded by a perimeter, three rail fence, but Cali easily slips through. It’s, as you may imagine, and this pun is very much intended, a no-brainer. Sometimes, Cali’ll take great pains to wipe her slobbery mouth all over my sweat pants or worse, my bare legs should I dare wear shorts, as she hops around me while I attempt to exercise.

 Once Cali abandoned me to chase an elderly woman walking her equally senior, leashed, and very annoyed basset hound, who by the way, looked more angry than sad. I grabbed Cali by the collar, opened the gate of her home, and thrust shoved gently pushed her inside.

In the beginning of these encounters, I thought, “How cute!” After the twelfth time of being stalked and used as a canine napkin, I took Cali to her front door. Her owners did not say a word. Please note, my neighborhood has an annual homeowners’ meeting. I’ve attended the last four. It always starts at 9 am and ends at 10 am. A few stragglers arrive a bit late, maybe by an embarrassing fifteen minutes. But Cali’s owner always arrives around 9:55 am and is utterly astonished that the meeting ends right about then. Yes, she is a blond, but her husband is a brunette and is her equal in every way,  however this is not a tale about hair color, natural or dyed.

Cali became a fixture on my walks, always hopping around me and unflinchingly trotting out in the middle of the road every time a vehicle approached. This was why instead of cheery waves by my neighbors, I started to receive dirty looks. My elderly, friendly, copper haired gent, holds down his horn as he drives by now, once causing me to jump so high, my head nearly banged against the branch of a sturdy oak tree directly above. Then the kindly gent gave me the finger and a nasty snarl. These people assume the naughty and irrepressible Cali is my mutt.

Finally, a few weeks ago, Cali’s stuper owners, tired of so many neighborly visits, reinforced their fence with chicken wire so Cali could no longer slip through. They live on five acres, so as you may imagine, such reinforcement was not cheap. But stupidity is not fought off so easily, my friend.  Cali is still on the loose. I present Exhibit B:

Yes, this is a photo of Cali’s front gates, wide open, after the fencing fortification. How else could Cali escape and annoy the neighbors?

And Exhibit C:

Regarding this last exhibit, I can’t imagine how Cali’s owners dented this fence sideways, as it’s usually shut, but stupidity is funny that way.

Today, as I walked, I was surprised to see someone leading a dog at Cali’s front gate. The dog was Cali, barely recognizable on the leash. I realized the weary woman holding the leash was not Cali’s owner, but a neighbor attempting to return the happy wanderer.

Stuper spelled backward is moron.

Think.

Keli

Keli@counterfeithumans.com

Posted in Monumental Stupidity | 5 Comments »

June 27, 2010 by Keli.

Working in a non-profit, legal organization means I receive a hefty amount of phone calls, many of which, I regret to report, are from stupers (short for unimaginably stupid persons). I received one such call from a woman who, at first, sounded like you and me. But then she rapidly showed her stuper stripes. This was not my first encounter with “Stella.” She’d called before, asking me to “research and locate” three attorneys for her that had been recommended by a postal worker, who evidently used lawyers regularly, but had difficulty remembering their names or much else. The only clues Stella provided me were these:

Stella: The first lawyer’s initials are either ESB, BSE, DBA or TBA. The second Lawyer has an office on State Street (take note, dear reader, there are about 185 legal offices on State Street), and the third lawyer carries a Louis Vuitton briefcase. I think she’s a woman.

You might find this a bit bizarre, but believe it or not, I receive many requests from people searching for particular attorneys located in my county, and the only helpful information they provide goes like this:

“He wears Hawaiian shirts a lot” or  “His name is John” or “She’s petite and pretty.” I swear.

I’d like to think these callers have heard of my astute, private investigator type and even telepathic capabilities. Only I don’t have any.

Stella, however, was deeply impressed with my sweet skills because I found her an attorney with the initials “ESB” who had an office on State Street and who carried a Louis Vuitton briefcase. But in the end, Stella decided the attorney I’d unearthed really couldn’t help her after all. She elaborated:

Stella: I need a lawyer who has experience in the Federal Courts.

Me: I only know of one such attorney, and his experience is with military bases.

Stella: My case is indirectly related to the military.

Me: He can’t help unless it’s directly related.

Stella: Well, my case is indirectly and directly related.

Me: What’s your case about?

Stella: It’s about family law, criminal law, civil rights, bankruptcy, social security, personal injury, real estate, defamation, intellectual property…. (I had time to run out of the office and across the street to Nordstrom to buy a pair of running shoes, which I knew I’d need after this conversation, as running is excellent therapy; I returned, not having missed any of her conversation)…animal husbandry and maritime law.

Me: (slightly out of breath) Sounds like a complex case. Too complex for us to handle.

Stella: I need a prosecutor and a defender. What does the guy do that you mentioned who practices Federal law? Is he both of those?

Me: He’s a negotiator.

Stella: That’s exactly what I need. Give me his name.

I rapidly considered excuses to get off the phone. Before I could spit one out, she continued:

Stella: Hold it. I’m talking to you from a disposable cell phone because I thought it was safe.

Me: (to myself) Aren’t throwaway phones only used by Al Qaeda, the CIA and those with a tendency to drop cell-phones down the toilet or to throw at stout, Wal-Mart type workers and paparazzi?

Stella: Gosh darn it! I’m not safe here, after all. Some guy wearing dark, mirrored sunglasses is watching me. They’re watching me all the time. Just hold it. I’m being followed again. I’ll have to talk to you later.

And that was that.

In my stupidity studies, I’ve learned that a necessary component to battling stupidity is nonresistance. The Chinese say that water is the most powerful element on earth, because it is perfectly nonresistant. It can wear away a rock, and sweep all before it. I think it’s often a good idea to make like water when confronted with stupidity.

Think.

Keli

Keli@counterfeithumans.com

Posted in Monumental Stupidity, Plain Old Fashioned Stupidity | 5 Comments »

March 20, 2010 by Keli.

I rarely watch or read the news, preferring instead to grind my own flour or take the neighbor’s twin pit bulls for a stroll, but for the sake of my dear readers and to prove a vital point, I read today’s headlines: “Germany’s Pedophile Priest Scandal” “Final Healthcare Push” “Lady Gaga is Sued”. Take note, that nowhere does there appear a news report or headline that involves a matter of vital importance: “Stupidity Has Reached Epidemic Levels.”

Last week, my office received no mail. Granted, we’ve just moved to a new location. However, the first two weeks after our move, the mail arrived without interruption. Last Monday through Wednesday, we were mail-less. I spoke to three different post office representatives who offered these vastly differing explanations,

Representative #1: “Oh, yours is being sent to Ventura.” (Ventura is a nearby city separated by a very long ocean stretch of highway, with a few other towns in between; perhaps some one could argue that the name “Ventura” is slightly similar sounding to “Santa Barbara” where my office is located, but only if that some one is a stuper [short once again, for a terrifyingly stupid person]).

Representative #2: “You haven’t received your mail in three days? You moved in the building 3 weeks ago? Well, I wouldn’t complain if I was you. Some of your neighbors have been there over ten years and they’re not gettin’ theirs neither.” (I find double negatives a form of blasphemy, FYI. If triple negatives are set loose, I pull out the hand grenade).

Representatives #3:”We don’t recognize your suite number.”

To this last explanation, I replied, “How is it that my suite number was recognized the first two weeks of our occupancy?”

Dead silence ensued, and I finally hung up the phone. I’m thinking complex questions sent the postal worker into a catatonic state.

Finally, I paid the post office a personal visit. I eyed the workers stationed behind the counter. They appeared friendly; even able-minded.

“I would like to pick up my mail, please, ” I asked in my usual polite manner.

By my carefully honed nature, I prefer to be kind. It’s true; I do carry an arsenal of assorted weapons in my oversize handbag. But I rarely use them.

The postal worker disappeared for a few minutes, then returned with my mail.

“Why?” I asked her in desperation.

She shrugged her shoulders and smiled, “Have a nice day!”

My mail arrived for the rest of the week.

Most of us do not even realize that we live in unsafe environments. There are stupers posing threats to our sanity everywhere. All the more reason for us to exercise a cool, calm, determined, increasingly steady and smooth flowing effort of attention toward attaining the definite goal of thinking. Imagine the possibilities.

Think first, last and always.

Keli

Keli@counterfeithumans.com

Posted in Monumental Stupidity, Professional Stupidity | 5 Comments »

January 3, 2010 by Keli.

 My farmer’s market is held in a neighboring small town that tourists and stupers (short for fretfully stupid persons) flock to throughout the year. I was once a tourist there myself, before realizing my dream of relocating. It’s a lovely, country-like atmosphere where idiots are scarce, and kindness and patience are plentiful. This is why when a moronically oblivious tourist-stuper holds up all traffic during the busy farmer’s market just to stand in the middle of the street for fifteen minutes to take the perfect snapshot of a windmill, nobody honks.

Yet, as we all know, this is not acceptable.

So while waiting at a stop sign for an idiot pedestrian in the crosswalk after my farmer’s market excursion, I decided to put my horn to good use. It had been so long, I barely remembered its sweet sound.

Despite the long line of cars waiting for the ped to cross to the other side, this Darwinian nightmare actually stopped several times along the way to get in some really epic licks of his ice cream cone before completing his forty foot crosswalk journey.

So, being first in line, I honked. Then honked again. And again. Why the encore? Because my honking failed to impact the walker/ ice cream cone licker. Was I by chance rudely picking on an innocent and possibly helpless deaf person? I don’t think so.  After the first honk, he casually turned his head my way, while wiping his mouth on his sleeve.

I believe usage of the horn has an entirely different impact on persons from third world countries and Texas. In those places, it’s used quite often under these circumstances:

1. When something/someone blocks the road.
2. When something/someone doesn’t.
3. When something/someone might.
4. At all times.

Therefore, honking loses its true meaning and is taken for granted in such places. Perhaps this ped was honk-deaf.

Just before reaching the end of the crosswalk where he’d be out of my way, he stopped. This time to indulge in some fierce itching of one knee. Realizing the time had arrived to roll down my window, I did so and gently called out to the stuper. He turned and, when he made eye contact, I made use of a universal expression we all carry around, and in my case, seldom use: the single digit salute. I don’t recommend the usage of this handy device in foreign countries or Texas, unless you are a ninth degree black belt in at least one martial art, are a former green beret who travels with arsenal or are seeking to incite a small riot.

In my case, I took one class in Tae Kwon Do, I don’t even own a beret and riots are no fun when you’re in the middle of one. Thankfully,  the stuper managed to make it to the curb alive with cone intact, and I managed to make my way home without further incident.

Why not think?

Keli

Keli@counterfeithumans.com

Posted in Monumental Stupidity | 9 Comments »

December 5, 2009 by Keli.

I usually focus on everyday stupidity, the type we come across in banks, gas stations, public libraries and bathroom fixture outlets. But I’m afraid the Tiger Woods’ scandal has seeped into my everyday life. I’ve always regarded him as an extraordinary, supernatural golfer; possibly even a supernatural human. Although he is still the incredible golfing phenomenon, with the recent events, he is also a stuper (short for a rambunctiously stupid person).

I recently spoke to a junior golfer; my eighteen-year-old who is away at college. I mentioned that I felt distressed hearing about the Tiger woes. His response:

“You’re distressed? I’m extremely upset about it. I never expected this from Tiger.”

We, as fans, all hoped Tiger was above the sordid and seedy in life. He appeared able to manage fame and extreme wealth and talent while maintaining esteemed values, without acting moronically. At least that was what he and his business team wanted us to believe. But yet again, like many famous stupers before him, politicians and athletes alike, he lied and acted without thinking of the impact not only on those close to him, but on the general public and fans who adored him.

I like to think that with fame, fortune and/or intelligence comes responsibility. In fact, skip the first two and with mere intelligence comes great responsibility: to operate your motor vehicle with diligence, to treat others (unless their stupidity screams out at you) with courtesy, and to promise to love and respect the ones you’re voluntarily hanging out with on a regular basis.

Yes, Tiger achieved fame and fortune at a tender age; he possibly lacked wise and loving guidance, and consequently lost his head and at least a portion of his reputation and possibly in the near future some of his wealth as well. But, dear readers,  yours truly promises that will never happen to her.

Firstly, I’m a bit older than Tiger (just a little, mind you), and I have something he does not: years of carefully studying and analyzing the complete and utter idiots among us, thereby seriously learning how not to look, act or remotely resemble a stuper. Plus, I’ve get a large, ongoing  dose of experience with regular people (I shop at Costco periodically for that very reason, although I draw the line at Walmart). Therefore, I will always stay in touch with reality.

To top things off, I carry around a quote originally uttered by ancient Greek playwright, Euripides:  “There is one thing alone that stands the brunt of life throughout its course: a quiet conscience.”

Keep thinking.

Keli

Keli@counterfeithumans.com

Posted in Monumental Stupidity | 6 Comments »

October 13, 2009 by Keli.

Every year about this time, my lone walnut tree erupts with nuts. If you’re a walnut fan and you’ve never had fresh walnuts, ’tis a pity. Just ask my walnut addicted, shell crunching dogs or the thieving, greedy crows (why did God create crows? That question keeps me awake many a night).

I struck a really fair deal with the dogs: walnuts on ground level are theirs. Then I made an equally magnanimous deal with the gosh darn crows: all walnuts at sky level are theirs for the taking. That means the remainder are for me, and my non-idiotic family, friends and neighbors, right?  Not exactly.

My gardener, Eddie, is wonderful, and no, he is not a stuper (short for an exasperatingly stupid person). But his brother, Dumb Dom, is. When Eddie is too busy to do my gardening, he sends Dom and an apprentice.

I happened to be home during one of Dom’s gardening days. I peered out the window and saw, as usual, the gardener’s apprentice toiling over the lawn mower, the weeds and the rake, while Dom played around with a pair of shears, snapping them open and shut at imaginary flies.

I left the window and returned ten minutes later to view Dom beneath the beloved walnut tree, arms busily reaching upward and picking, while his pant pockets bulged with nuts… from the tree.  Then he proceeded to tuck in his shirt and drop walnuts down his neck into his newly formed bag/shirt.

I rapped on the window until he turned toward me. Then I waved, just to let him know I was on to him and hopefully firmly plant the guilt seed. Instead, Dom threw me a wildly dirty look for interrupting him and continued picking. Not to be outdone, I raced outside.

“Mind leaving some for me? I like them too, you know,” I stated fiercely, waving the shovel I held in one hand around threateningly.

Dom grumbled and sauntered away, walnuts spilling from all sides, which my dogs rapidly proceeded to devour. By the way, Dom does not speak English and has been in this country only a short time. Perhaps where he comes from, picking other people’s fruit and nuts is a sign of friendliness and good will. Then again, I hear hands are cut off for less, in some places.

Typically, I pick the fruit and nuts from my trees and pass them out. Even Dom has gotten his own bag of plums and apples. But what to do with stupers who believe mi casa es su casa? What’s yours is mine? I tried heading him off at the pass by giving him his share. You saw where that went. I really wasn’t up to frisking his 6′4″ frame; even in my four inch stilettos, I’m still only 5′11″.

The next time Dom showed up for his so called gardening job, I was ready. I remembered some advice once offered by French Royal and well known stuper, Marie Antoinette, a short time before she was beheaded, “Let them eat cake.” True, such advice backfired for her, but I knew it work on Dom.  Now, at harvest time, I always leave a large piece of cake or three for Dom. That way he’s too busy eating when he arrives and too full for picking by the time he leaves, I give him his share, and I get to keep the rest of the nuts.

Keep thinking.

Keli

Keli@counterfeithumans.com

Posted in Monumental Stupidity, Professional Stupidity | 7 Comments »

August 8, 2009 by Keli.

Most of us thinking, breathing humans have five senses. Stupers (short for militantly stupid persons) however, carry around a sixth sense that the rest of us lack. Don’t worry; you’ll be glad you’re missing this one.

Husband (H) drove on a busy highway; a highway that conjures up a warm, special, holiday pudding type of feeling in the hearts of all Caltrans workers, as this stretch of the road has been under construction for over a decade. H’s was the third vehicle in a line of cars traveling around the speed limit of 65 mph.

A sign appeared on one side of the highway, warning, “Flagger ahead.”

A Caltrans worker, sporting the usual trendy (in the highway worker fashion industry) nylon, orange vest, stood down the road, on the side, head slightly tilted, mouth somewhat ajar, arms folded across his burly chest, staring off into the distant horizon, daydreaming undoubtedly of beers and bubble baths (I’ve heard this ale and soap suds combo is big with 4 out of 9 Caltrans workers).

Suddenly, as the lead car in front of H approached, the worker sprang to life. He ran out into the middle of the highway, frantically waving a stop sign above his empty, helmet clad head. The lead vehicle slammed on the brakes, tires screeching, swerving into the opposing lane, which fortunately was empty. The second car skidded, and H, swearing loudly, as he is wont to do in such situations, nearly spun out. The vehicle behind H maneuvered into the shoulder to avoid rear-ending H, barely missing the frantic worker, who scrambled to avoid the oncoming cars. Needless to say, the idiot worker had to deal with several irate drivers.

As ably demonstrated above, stupidity is hazardous. It causes irritation, annoyance, frustration and can even trigger aggression on the part of the receiver(s). In fact, stupidity specialists (namely myself) are now wringing their hands over the huge caseload of untreatable, highly resistant stupidity. Why resistant? Because we have just learned the cause of stupidity stems from an innate sixth sense, highly tuned in stupers. What is this sense? Nonsense.

Nonsense is accelerating in all settings, directly compromising our outcomes. “Directly compromising” is euphemistic. What it really means is that we will eventually lose our minds if we don’t do something. Again, violence is not the answer unless one is particularly attracted to rooms with bars (not the kind with shot glasses and olives, but the decorative, practical, steel enforced variety) and license plate making.

Every person is responsible for making a better world by planting the seeds of patience and harmony deeply in the human heart. Eventually, these seeds will blossom, bringing benefit to all. The authentic, intelligent human is the one who knows how to face challenges with sympathy and understanding. The mark of a great person lies in how he/she faces daily irritations. We owe it to humankind to exercise safety and thought in all of our undertakings. Yes, the Caltrans worker behaved idiotically, but wouldn’t it be better to focus on the fact that besides severe wear and tear on the brakes of the approaching cars, no one was hurt? A grateful heart offsets the ill effects of an encounter with stupidity and helps us to maintain proper perspective and peace of mind.

Try thinking.

Keli

Keli@counterfeithumans.com

Posted in Monumental Stupidity, Vehicular Stupidity | 8 Comments »

August 2, 2009 by Keli.

It’s tremendously satisfying as well as entertaining to witness the punishment of an act of stupidity moments after it occurs.

A few years ago, Son #2 and I waited in the car at the local college to pick up Son #1. While we sat, a large pick-up truck pulled in a nearby spot. As the occupant closest to us climbed out of the passenger side, a medium size, white paper bag tumbled out after him. A thinking, considerate human would have automatically picked up the bag and put it back in the truck or thrown it out in a nearby trash can, or at least conducted a quick scan around him for onlookers who’d hopefully shame him out of acting moronically. But this stuper (short again for a predominantly stupid person) glanced at the forlorn bag lying on the asphalt, and then kicked it underneath the truck.

“That’s bad karma right there,” I informed my amused child.

The dimwit next took out a skateboard from the bed of the truck, no doubt late for class, placed one foot on the board and kicked off into…where else? The main drag of the parking lot, filled with drivers hell-bent on finding parking spots.

As a car turned towards the supremely stupid skateboarder at that very moment, he suddenly lost his balance, fell off the board and hard on his butt onto the unyielding asphalt. The car screeched to a halt. The hapless fellow managed to stagger back to his feet, then winced as he rubbed his sorry ass posterior.

I’ve taught my kids never to laugh at the misfortune of others, but when I gave Son #2 a “What did I tell you?” look, he was grinning.

Sometimes there is immediate justice in this world. I’m glad I was there to witness it.

Why not think?

Keli

Keli@counterfeithumans.com

Posted in Monumental Stupidity | 7 Comments »

July 23, 2009 by Keli.

Yesterday, I had more than my fair share of stupidity. Even a stupidity specialist such as myself can get bombarded now and then. First, a legendary literary agent informed me the idea for my blog is “cute,” but the writing didn’t “appeal him.” Okay, I know he meant “appeal to him,”  but really, how challenging was it to insert the small preposition “to” in an eighteen word sentence? I took this quite personally and had to soundly stamp him a stuper (short for an overtly stupid person).  After all, anyone who’s been dealing with the business of words for many decades, should make a small effort to utilize said words with greater care and accuracy. I was highly offended.

Secondly, I made the mistake of calling the US District Court office in Los Angeles with the intent of speaking to a real, live clerk about a question their website didn’t answer. I dialed the number provided for additional information and/or questions, innocently believing my simple inquiry of “Do you need a resume attached to your judicial application?” would be ably answered.

I, naturally, encountered a recording. Was the recording helpful, you may politely ask? About as helpful as tying a piece of thread to a doorknob during a windstorm and then attempting to use the thread to shut the door while standing fifteen feet away. The recorded voice read, verbatim, at an exceedingly slow pace, the exact verbiage appearing on the website, pausing at all punctuation marks for added emphasis or so the tortured listener could run and brew a cup of coffee without missing a word.

Not to worry, dear readers; I’m not applying for a judgeship. I was testing the waters on behalf of a friend. I wouldn’t make a good judge. Anyone who remotely resembled a stuper would automatically be given the death penalty which would unnecessarily clog our appeals courts. It would be a lot of fun though.

Idiocy and annoying thoughts cause a great commotion in our minds. All the more reason to work hard at remaining unruffled. Now if I can only take my own advice…

Why not think?

Keli

Keli@counterfeithumans.com

Posted in Monumental Stupidity | 8 Comments »