-Husband- I was in the marines for 4 yrs. -jim- wow. Really? Good for you. because I don’t care if you never you never made it out of boot camp you’ve done more in those 4 years than I have done in my entire life..and I’m well past 50. -husband- *gets up..gets teary, gives Jim a dap .
I’ve never been more proud in my life.
Yep..ima just sit here and cry now.
Does that make me a coward?
Does it make me weak?
Does it seem pathetic?
Do I care what it makes me?
Truth is, it doesn’t matter. There’s no one here to watch the tears roll down my face and pass that judgement upon me.
So ima cry until I feel better.
Ima cry until I stop
Ima cry because my heart needs a release
and I am never going to fucking apologize for it.
You shouldn’t either.
“Ain’t no problem in this life that cannot be solved with a hot cuppa tea. And a sawed-off shotgun.”
Honestly, I have never dealt with a company whose customer service is truly 50/50. I have had some terrible customer service reps in my day but to hit and miss 50% of the time is crazy. It’s almost positive that if I get a shitty one at first and I hang up and call right back that the next one will be helpful. Good thinking there massive entertainment providing corporation. It baffles me…. Sometimes I have the most helpful people who honestly are competent enough to listen to what I’m saying, look at the account, and see that I’m not trying to swindle a credit out of you and sometimes I get people who honestly are too fucking lazy to read the notes left on the account that already specify what i’m calling for and why I am getting a credit. The biggest issue I have with this besides wasting countless hours of my time on the phone with you is that when things get a little too complicated for your brain to handle you put me on hold without telling me and then just pop me back to the main menu so that it’s someone else’s problem to deal with now. Aggravating, kids….uberly fucking aggravating.
Fix it.
I hate your face.
But, I still love your commercials.
My roommate is never in his bedroom. Ever. Barely even to sleep. That’s fine…considering he paid for everything that lives in the living room. The issue is that it’s an open living kitchen. So if you want to sit in the living room on the couch and have a private conversation..it’s not going to happen if someone just so happens to be cooking in the kitchen. You can see and hear everything. Now, if you don’t give a fuck that people can hear your convo then there’s no problem here at all. But, if you are going to sit on the couch while I’m in the kitchen cooking and practically whisper into the phone because you don’t want people to hear what you’re talking about because it’s a PRIVATE CONVERSATION don’t you think you’d migrate into your own bedroom where you can shut a door and talk like a normal human being with a proper decibel range as opposed to speaking in inside voice half mute tones? I’m just sayin. You pay for a bedroom. You pay for privacy. You need privacy for a private convo. Go to your private bedroom with your private door on your private phone and talk about private things for a time limit that is unknown because that’s private too. Then you won’t have to look at me like i’m an asscanoe because I can hear your private conversation while I’m cooking in the kitchen and you’re parked on the couch in the living room which is a total of 5 ft. away. And then I won’t want to kill you and tell people how I really feel in the blogosphere and you won’t feel like a dick when you intentionally read this after I accidentally post this blog post on your fb page later.
Moral of the story.
If it’s private and you don’t want people to hear. Go to your private place. Dick
Tomorrow….It’s Hov he can make baby crys sound like a 16 bar beat box with no autotune…what? ya’ll didn’t kno? I’m just sayin..
“if you don’t like it…i’ll happily help you slit your wrists with a wax tipped shoelace, a cabbage patch kid, and a hermit crab”
TK