This morning I was up very early and when The Red Man doesn’t sleep well, Katie bar the door. He gets very cranky and out of sorts. He begins looking around for people, places and things that irritate him. Hmmm…Paw Snaps and Twirls! I know – it’s Joel Osteen. The guy creeps me out with his smiley-smiley face and eternal cheerfulness. Can I just say nobody is that cheerful for that many TV programs unless they’ve been drinking Vitameatavegamin for a while like Lucy. I loved Lucy. She was so believable.
Of course, Lucy didn’t tweet. She couldn’t tweet because she lived in the World B.T.(Before Twitter). Peeps before Tweets were real neat and not creeps. The Red Man is a poet, and he knows it. Heh, heh.
IF Lucy could’ve tweeted, she would’ve made sure she tweeted a correct email address for questions about her guests like Harpo Marx or William Holden or John Wayne or even The Mertzes or Little Ricky. Yes, that Lucy was a stickler for details and you could’ve bet good money on her for a correct email address to show the love.
On the other hand, we’ve got the Main Man of Hope Joel Osteen who has a Night of Hope in Miami and he has 36,000 hopeful Peeps show up and another 138,000 hopefuls live streaming from the comfort of their own home bleacher seats. Equally hopeful, however. Sending in thousands of wants and needs and I don’t know what all to the Happy Joel prayer request email address. Just one problemo which is Spanish for problem. Wrong email address. Oops. All those thousands of hopeful requests came back with the sad news “Delivery has failed permanently.” Hopeless.
The Red Man hates disappointments of any size, but he particularly hates Hopelessness on a large scale and this little fiasco serves as a reminder of one of the Ten Commandments of Digi-vandalism: Thou shalt not give out false email addresses, or it makes for one helluva social media mess. If the road to Damascus is going to be a hyperlink and you want the linings of your pockets to be paved with gold, The Red Man says an ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure.
Get me outta here Percy…I need to chill…have a good one Sports Fans and thanks for hanging with us…
Red's Rants and Raves 
Oh, we love Lucy too! She would have been a stickler for correctness and never let her fans down 😉
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Absolutely…Lucy, I’m home…:)
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Ouch! I hate disappointment as well (and absolutely LOVE Lucy!) 😉
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Me, too – but I just read the interview with the crocodile story and I have to say you win hands down for any job competition you ever enter. Crocodile farm + chocolate = WOW! 🙂
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LOL! Hubby wasn’t happy with me, but hey – not my fault he can’t handle a crocodile! 😉
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And I say who among us can handle a crocodile?? Oops – that would be you, you wild adventurous woman, you! 🙂
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Lucille Ball has always been and still remains my woman!!
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Oh, yes…I loved her dearly, too…watched her with my grandmother every week!
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My mommy shudders to think what she would do if she emailed her prayer request to the Happy Rev and got the “Delivery has failed permanently” response. Maybe reconsider her router and go a little higher with that request? Years and years and years ago when my daddy lived in Houston (BHL–which means Before Harper Lee–and BM–which sounds kind of bad but actually means Before Mommy), he played basketball with the Main Man of Hope at the YMCA. Daddy reports that he (Joel, not my daddy) was irritatingly happy then, too! My humans cried when he turned the old Summit sports arena into the Church of the What’s Happening Now. They still fondly recall drinking lots of beer and watching the Rockets win a championship in that arena. Wow, pardon the longwindedness . . . you got me going with this!
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Get outta town! What are the chances Miss Harper Lee’s daddy played round ball with the Rev Joel, and he was happy then, too! I LOL when I read this!!! And yes, I will never get over turning the old Summit sports arena into the largest mega church ever…Geez Louise. Yes, spilling beer at the arena was a ritual not to be marginalized. Olajuwan – is that a correct spelling? Those were the days, my friend. 🙂
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That’s a celebrity boxing match I’d pay-per-view for…Lights Out Lucy and Tooth Sheen Osteen. I’d like to see Lucy boil him in oil before Ricky got home.
Later…
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Guess who’s not coming to dinner, Ricky?? 🙂 Seriously – I had to laugh about the Permanent Delivery Failure. I pictured the faces of the staff in charge of Social Media Soul Saving. Yikes.
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Whoever that televangelist from Ohio – the Crystal Cathedral guy who looks like the devil – used to tell people to put their hands or afflicted parts on the television screen and he would heal them. Afflicted parts…that sounds so yucky and weird. Keep the Pack safe.
Later…
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I find that to be totally murky. We try to keep the Pack safe. And healed. Or is that heeled? Oh, for God’s sake.
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