The Intelligence Estimate

Only an estimate. Actual intelligence may vary.


Best Damned Marriage Ending PERIOD!

Tom Arnold's third marriage is coming to an end. He and wife Shelby Roos (whom he met at the 2000 Democratic National Convention) are filing separation papers. Man, if Tom can't make a go of it what chance do we mere mortals stand? I feel like filing for divorce out of solidarity. My wife said if I could come up with the $400 she'd sign because she cares about Tom and the sanctity of marriage THAT much!

What's interesting about Tom Arnold's marriages (other than the fact that they happened at all) is well...let me just run down the facts for you. He was married to Roseanne Barr from 1990 -1994, Julie Champnella from 1995-1999 and he's been with Ms. Roos since June of 2002.

Apparently Tom's marriages are on an election cycle. Everybody gets a four year term. Maybe one will get lucky and get a second term in office, but in the current political climate it doesn't look likely in the near future. In fairness to Shelby, she didn't stand a chance with the Republicans controlling both the House and the Senate.

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Area Rug 51, First Blood Part 2

Long story short, Jen and I ordered a rug to match our couch and were having trouble with the store. (Episode one can be found here.)

Monday, August 28
- I call Wickes Furniture and speak to Davis (apparently Suzanna from the other day is busy playing with a piece of string.) I explain our situation and he looks up the account.

"Hmmmmmmmm...it looks like this isn't the right rug."

Looks like? So you're not sure?

"No, it doesn't look like this is the rug that came with your set."

But you're not sure? Can you just check the set that's in stock?

"And they've already loaded the truck, so it's on it's way."

Which one? You mean the WRONG rug is on its way? You're sure?

"I tell you what, it will be here later today. You can come down and look at it and see if it is the right one or not."

So you're not sure? Your solution is to have me drive across town and do your job for you for free? Good plan. I mean the job doesn't sound too hard. It's not like you need to help people and clearly the ability to answer questions isn't in the skill set either. Frankly I don't know why chimps aren't selling this stuff for you. Probably a poo problem.

"Just to make sure I'll order this other one too. It should be here by next Wednesday."

Which one will be here Wednesday, the right one or the wrong one? How do you know THIS ONE is the right one?

"The truck comes in tomorrow by one and you can come down and see if it's the right one or not."

So you don't know if it's the right one?

"We've ordered the one with concentric circles and it'll will be here."

When? Do I still need to stop by tomorrow?

"Yeah, come on down and check it out. If it's not the right one we'll send it back."

So,to summarize, he wasn't sure and at that point I wasn't either. By that time I was so confused I'm not sure I could have told you my name. I was fairly certain I needed to make a trip down to the store, but I couldn't swear to why. Anyway, I knew it was aggravation that would wait until tomorrow. Right now I needed to go in the back yard and beat something with a baseball bat. I hope those neighbor kids are playing in the alley!

The carpet saga rages on. Be sure to tune in for our next thrilling episode when our hero travels into the very belly of the beast to do battle with the forces of stupidity. Will he emerge unscathed or will he be stupider for the encounter? The answer to these and many other questions will be answered in the next episode of AREA RUG 51!

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Too Much TV

Every TV channel is making an attempt to tie their programming into the anniversary of Hurricane Katrina. Some may be trying too hard. For example, I just learned that ring-tailed lemurs were not designed to sustain an 83 mph head wind.

Good thinking God! First the platypus, now this.

Area Rug 51: Where Angels Fear To Tread

Jen and I became the proud owners of a couch and chair a few weeks ago. This set off a frenzy of activity centered around finding the right rug to match the couch. It's easier to navigate the ocean using a sextent and the stars than it is to find a rug that matches this couch. So we finally broke down and decided to purchase the rug that came with our furniture set...

Friday, August 25- I made a phone call to Wickes Furniture to add a rug to our account. I spoke with Suzanna. I told her about our previous purchase and that we wanted the rug that went with the set.

"We certainly can add that to your bill," she said, "what rug would you like?"

A bit baffled by her lack of attention, I reiterated that it was the one that came with the set. This seemed to confuse her more.

"What does it looked like?"

Like a bigger version of the tiny rug in the picture of our furniture set, or exactly like the one that was under the coffee table that that picture of the rug was sitting on.

It's navy blue with concentric circles of differing colors, I said.

I'm not sure if it was her first day on the job or if the use of the word "concentric" confused her or if perhaps someone with a shiny ring of keys walked by and distracted her but she still didn't get it.

I said we ordered the Cafe Du Monde couch and chair in cranberry and there was a rug in the set that came with it.

"Sort of a green sateen?" she offered meekly.

No, I said yet again, it's blue with concentric circles.

"Uh-huh."

She said she would go check the floor model and call me right back.

How hard can this be, I wondered? Just look at the model we have and give us the rug that comes with it. Simple. Well, the only thing simple in this equation was Suzanna. I gave her my cell number and never heard from her again.

I talked to my wife Jen later that night and she told me that she had received a call from Wickes. Apparently Suzanna had, lost my cell number (more shiny keys I imagine) and called the home phone number that was on our account. She said they didn't have the rug we wanted in stock but we could order it from their warehouse in the suburbs. They would even bump $50 off the price because they were discontinuing that line.

What color is the rug?

"I didn't ask," Jen said. "Why?"

Because Suzanna didn't seem to know which rug we wanted...or which way was up. I'll call them later and ask.

Big mistake.

Be sure to tune in next time for Episode 2, Attack of the Clowns when we'll hear our beloved hero say, "you're sure about that, right?"

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You Wanted What?

Seen on the window of a sushi place around the corner from our place, a sign that reads: "WE WANTED DISH WASHER."

I wasn't sure if that was a request or a rebuke, but I was pretty sure I was never going to eat there. First of all, it's raw fish and now they may be serving it on dirty dishes. Your chance of living through to dessert just drop by 83%.

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Nobody Move or my Penis Will Blow This Place SKY HIGH!

Mardin Amin, an Arab currently living in Skokie, Illinois (There's a sit-com there somewhere!), was charged with felony disorderly conduct after an August 16 incident at O'Hare International Airport. The security people checking his bag found an object they didn't recognize and asked him what it was. The security guard thought he said "bomb." The guard had him hauled away from his mother and daughter and he was detained for questioning.

Amin says he said, "pump", as in PENIS PUMP. And I believe Amin for two reasons. #1) No one carrying a bomb is going to buckle under the authority of an 80 year old TAS security screener and just blurt out BOMB. #2) He actually was carrying a penis pump. Why would he lie about that? Think about it, nobody would admit to carrying a penis pump if they didn't actually have a penis pump. No one hauls one of those babies out to impress people.

Now he could face up to three years in prison if found guilty of disorderly conduct. It's madness. He's embarrassed in front of his mother and daughter, charged with a felony for a misunderstanding and he basically has admitted in a court of law that he resorts to toys for stimulation. He's never getting laid again. Hasn't he suffered enough?

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I Could Have Gotten Them a Diaper Bag But Where's The Fun In That?

This is Luke. And as you can tell by his t-shirt, he is definitely up to something.














That something? Teaching me to play piano.














Luke belongs to these lovely people, Shawn and Trish.














When Trish was pregnant with Luke, she passed along this little pearl of maternal wisdom to me:"It sucks being knocked up." It sucks so much that I cross stitched this fine baby gift to remind her of that fact.














So far, Luke is an only child.

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Where Would Hitler Eat?

According to a story by Reuters "Oddly Enough" News Service a Nazi-themed restaurant has just opened in Mumbai, India called Hitler's Cross. The restaurant, in addition to featuring a large hookah, is festooned with even larger pictures of Hitler.

"'This place is not about wars or crimes, but where people come to relax and enjoy a meal,' said restaurant manager Fatima Kabani, adding that they were planning to turn the eatery's name into a brand with more branches in Mumbai."

I don't want to waste my time defending the indefensible, but these people are clearly not good Nazis. I'll tell you why. Mumbai is the financial center of India. And as any good Nazi knows (I'm looking at YOU Mel Gibson!), the Jews run all things financial. Do you really think that any good Nazi would waste his time giving the Jews good food at a reasonable price? These people aren't Nazis, they're just morons.

"'We wanted to be different. This is one name that will stay in people's minds,' owner Punit Shablok told Reuters."

You know what else sticks in people's minds? The holocaust. Say what you will about his great accomplishments like the autobahn, that final solution is what Hitler's gonna be remembered for.

Shablok wanted to make sure people knew that "we are not promoting Hitler. But we want to tell people we are different in the way he was different."

That the way Hitler was different was that he killed millions of Jews, gypsies and Russians. Check your armbands at the door!

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Personal Information

When I get bored I start reading Craigslist. This was under the writing gigs portion of the site.

"I am a medical student in need of someone to write a personal statement for me for residency. The personal statement only has to be about 400 words. I can only afford to pay $50. If interested please let me know. "

I don't need 400 words. His personal statement is, "I AM LAZY!"

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Sage Advice From A Reliable Source

I went to a movie with my friend Sarah last night. Afterwards we went for coffee near the theater. Sarah has been out of the country for the last 7 months and so it was good to catch up with her. I was reminded why I hang out with her in the first place.

Sarah: I went to this CRAZY religious wedding in Dubuque.

Chris: Those are ALWAYS fun!

Sarah: Yeah, if you like guilt.

Chris: And you know I do!

Sarah: The priest was giving his homily and he turned to the bride and groom and said, "Now after the wedding, after the party, after everyone has gone home and you find yourself alone with one another..."

Chris: What the hell? What does a priest know about being alone with a woman?

Sarah: It gets better. "I want you two to get down on your knees...."

Chris: Priests know all about that!

Sarah: "...and thank the lord for this." I thought, did he just tell them to thank God for sex?

Chris: Oh, one of them will be down on their knees for sure but I doubt if God really enters their mind.

Sarah: No, one of them will be mentioning God quite a bit, but not the other one.

Chris: Well, it's impolite to speak with your mouth full.


Say good night Gracie!

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The Fix Is In!

As a comic there is nothing I love more than fixing other people's stories and reality in general. Whenever I hear someone telling a story that sucks I take mental note (sometimes ACTUAL notes are required) and then I will critique the story when the person is done wasting my time. This is one of the reasons I was asked to stop coming to church. As it turns out The Gospels aren't SUPPOSED to be funny. Whatever. Their loss!

Here's a quick example of short (albeit LAME) story that I spiced up with a few minor additions.

Original Story
"My brother-in-law builds and programs computers."

The Fix
"My brother-in-law builds computers FROM THINGS HE HAS AROUND THE HOUSE and programs them TO KILL!"

See? Better!

I was reminded of this tonight at work because Theo, a co-worker of mine, was on crutches.

The Story
"I sprained my ankle coming down the steps last night."

BORING!

The Fix
Theo's father was the last surviving Ninja of the Dagger Fist Clan. The rest of the clan was killed off when one of their members sold them out to a rival clan, The Black Star Clan, and revealed the location of their secret training facility. Theo's father only survived because he was left for dead. He was, of course, not dead but was simply trapped under rubble where he survived for three days on cockroaches and his steely nerves. When he was finally able to get his strength back he escaped to a small village nearby where he married and impregnated a local village girl. His son, Theo, was raised in the ninja ways from the time he was a small child. As Theo grew older he learned to hate the evil Black Star Clan and swore his vengeance on them and all their kinsmen. But there was one thing Theo did not count on: Love.

Theo fell in love with Xia Wu. It was only after he had professed his love for her that he realized that she was the daughter of the head of the Black Star Clan. This did not change the young lovers feelings toward each other and they swore they would be married one day. When news of this new Dagger Fist ninja reached the Black Star Clan they quickly figured out that they did not finish the job they had started so many years ago. So they hunt down Theo's father and kill him in front of the whole village as a warning to anyone who might be swayed to their cause. They also learn from the scared villagers that Theo, now the LAST ninja of the Dagger Hand Clan, has taken up with the daughter of the Black Star Clan's master. The master hatches a plan to kidnap his own daughter to lure Theo out of hiding. They tie her up in an old fireworks factory on the outskirts of town and surround the factory with a hundred ninjas to dispatch with the ninja who comes to save her. Theo arrives and rescues Xia and as they escape, he sprains his ankle coming down the stairs.

BETTER!

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Apocalypse Now or Later

Walt Disney, the company that brought you the lightheartedly racist tales of Song of the South, has announced that they will go ahead with plans to release Mel Gibson's new movie Apocalypto.

Apocalypto is the story of the last days of the Mayan civilization, and I don't care what it's called, there is nothing that is going to stop me from calling this movie Mel Gibson's The Land Before Jews.

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Reading is Fundamental

My wife did not take my name when we got married. She chose the more commonplace Hughes over the more infuriatingly Germanic Gummert. We both agreed that it had done enough emotional and psychological damage in MY life that there was no use knowingly inflicting it on someone who has a choice in the matter.

This has been only an occasional source of frustration for the two of us. Most commonly it is when my grandmother addresses mail to Chris and Jen Gummert or Mr. and Mrs. Gummert or Whats-His-Face and The Other One. But more often than not it is a endlessly amusing to us that people refer to us by the wrong name, especially when they refer to me as Mr. Hughes.

Once Jen fainted at a movie (Jen swears she doesn't think Jennifer Aniston's acting is THAT bad, but apparently her body disagrees!) and we went to the emergency room. She was fine, but the doctor wrote me a note to stay home from work and watch her the next day just to make sure that she didn't pass out again. He wrote the note for "Chris Hughes."

Today I got a phone call from a telemarketer. This is a fairly common occurrence since we've moved and haven't had the time to circulate our new number among our friends. Frankly, I don't know why I even answer if the phone number doesn't show up on caller ID.

"Hello?"

No response. Dead air.

"Hello?"

"Hello?" comes the answer, almost like she didn't expect anyone to answer at all.

"Hi."

"May I speak to Mr. Huge?"

I was certain I didn't hear that right so I asked her to repeat her question.

"May I speak to Mr. Huge?" she asked with the utmost confidence in her pronunciation.

Mr Huge? Really? How did she know my nickname? Clearly those internet ads were working!

"This is Mr. Huge and let me assure that it's not just a clever name. So before you ask any further questions, let me assure you that all the rumors are true...although I suspect that donkey had a weak heart to begin with! I'm not surprised you called. Mr. Huge is a legend. A man among men and a God among ladies. Mr. Huge is a state of mind, a way of life, a journey to the edge of insanity and back again on a pink, pulsating, pleasure raft. Those who see it never recover from the shock. People run away screaming at the mere mention of it. Others choose to just set up camp in the ample shade it provides. In fact a small Guatemalan family has taken up residence near the tip in a smart-looking bungalow. It's THAT big! Suffice it to say I don't buy pants off the rack anymore.'"

Then out loud I said, "There's no one here by that name."

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Realm of the Coin

This fine looking piece of precision crafted automobile is the 2006 Jaguar S-TYPE R. It features such amenities as:

-400-horsepower supercharged 4.2-liter V8 -•5.3-second 0-60 mph acceleration
-DVD-based Navigation system
-Bluetooth ® wireless technology
-Contoured, 16-way driver and 12-way passenger heated seats with driver memory
-Gray-stained Bird´s-eye Maple wood trim
-Available race-inspired aluminum trim

And it is priced to move starting at a modest $63,995.

I was stuck behind one of these for ages today waiting for the driver to scrape together $.60 for the toll. Apparently $64,000 is exactly enough money to insulate you from other people's rage.

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Hooray for Boobies!

The musical Wicked has been playing in Chicago for over a year now and its popularity shows no signs of waning. This is mostly due to the fact that its fan base is 14 year old girls who wouldn't know good theater if Kander and Ebb both bit them on the ass. Working at the Blue Man Group I see a lot of these same 14 year old girls at our theater too. And I know that we get that same demographic because they are all wearing THIS:












What marketing genius decided that barely pubescent girls need to have DEFY GRAVITY written across their chest? Isn't that just bragging? Gravity hasn't had a chance to work it's dark arts on them yet, but it will. Soon they'll need larger and more complicated feats of engineering to maintain the veneer of youth that came so easy in their teens. Gravity is a harsh mistress! Then one day they wake up and realize that no matter how much work they put into it, no matter how they primp and preen and tuck, no matter how they gird themselves against reality, all signs still point south. It's a short trip from that realization to becoming the crazy cat-lady on the edge of town who spends her social security money on lotto tickets and TV dinners. Come back in 30 years and we'll see who's defiant then.

In other boobie news, Janet Jackson has decided that the best way to show off the results of her recent diet is to pose topless for Vibe Magazine. As you may remember the world has already seen her breasts on live television during the Super Bowl half time show. When Vibe asked how she feels about all the attention she gain from that display she had this to say, "It's just over and done with. It's old. It's the past. It's history. I'm onto something new. Everybody got their licks in - those who wanted to - and it's done."

Now, I'm no publicist, but here's a quick list of words and phrases you wanna avoid when referring to your 40 year old breasts:

Over and done with
Old
In the past
History
Everybody got their licks in

I guess since Michael disappeared off the face of the Earth there has been a void of Jackson Family brand weirdness in the press. Thanks for stepping up Janet, but really, Tito could use the work.

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Escape From L.A.

So here's the flip side of that Rob Schneider story from the other day, after a long and considered deliberation "actor" Patrick Swayze has come down on the side of newly minted alcoholic anti-Semite Mel Gibson. I guess we can officially state what is patently obvious to everyone with passing interest in this debacle: Patrick Swayze's career is worse off than Rob Schneider's.

If you're Mel Gibson though, I don't know what feels worse: having Patrick Swayze defend your anti-Jewish tirade, or having Rob Schneider berate you. That's like choosing between a poke in the eye and a kick in the crotch.

Just to keep it clear, if you're keeping score at home that's Patrick "To Wong Foo" Swayze FOR Mel Gibson and Rob "Male Gigolo" Schneider AGAINST Mel Gibson. You'll wanna start a flow chart of some kind. Just so you can keep the sides straight when the full scale Civil War breaks out in Hollywood.

"The Anti-Gibson Militia has holed up in the Griffith Park Observatory where they're looking to make a stand against the Anti-Jewish insurgents who have taken control of the high ground around the Hollywood sign. The Anti-Gibson Militia fired off an early-morning barrage of press releases that went unanswered for many hours. Pentagon officials believe that the insurgents are preparing to launch a massive charm offensive on the unwitting press for the hearts and minds of middle America. Both sides have ignored the Pope's repeated calls for peace. The insurgents, speaking through producer and front man Dean Devlin, say they will not rest until Gibson is given a 5 picture deal with final cut approval and the creative freedom to make all the bigoted slurs he wants!"

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Nothing To See Here!

Before I begin this post, let me remind everyone that my mom subscribes to this blog. And at times this space can get a little racy. So, as a token of goodwill, I would like to start out with a word to her: "Aren't recipe's GREAT?!"

Ok, that link should keep her busy for hours. But just in case she tries to sneak back in here I'm gonna post this too....














She'll be so mesmerized by the cuteness she may never recover.

Now, I don't know how I became the collector of rare and odd iPod accessory knowledge, but this is the most bizarre one ever. Honestly, I'm not sure how I feel about this. It's the iPod vibrator called the OhMiBod. (I guess I feel...tingley?!)

It's the ultimate in plug-and-play-with-yourself technology. You plug the vibrator into your iPod earphone jack (you plug the other end somewhere completely different!) and then it vibrates to the rhythm and intensity of the music.

Here is an actual question from the OhMiBod FAQ page:

"Q: Can I use OhMiBod in the car?

A: The simple answer is yes - but we don't recommend it (could be a bit distracting to your driving). But if you are a passenger - we say go for it!"

For the record I'd just like to state that in Chicago it is illegal to use your cell phone while operating an automobile. I think this is a touch more distracting than that. But I can't wait until the legislation catches up to this! Those open hearings will elicit testimony that will necessitate city council meetings have a cover charge and a two drink minimum!

You can even go on iTunes and download OhMiBod playlists featuring songs that give you the most bang for your buck...literally. There are playlists with as few as 5 songs or as many as 15 songs. Frankly, if you need 15 songs, well you're just bragging.

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It's a Choice

According to the Internet Movie Database Rob Schneider, "star" such timeless classics as of Deuce Bigalow Male Gigolo and The Animal, is the first "actor" to publicly admit that he will not work with Mel Gibson because of his recent anti-Semitic tirade.

Yeah...ummmm...I'm sure that's why he's not working with Mel Gibson. It's HIS choice. It has nothing whatsoever to do with Deuce Bigalow European Gigolo or all that time Rob spent burrowed up Adam Sandler's ass. No, no, no it's a choice. Just the same way I choose not to sleep with Julianne Moore or use my superpowers for the forces of evil. It's MY choice!

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Exile on Sacramento Avenue

Editor's note: Over the last few weeks I have been updating the blog VERY sporadically. That was due to many factors. Not the least of which were moving to a new place, traveling back to Des Moines for the Iowa Fringe Festival and not having an internet connection at home for a week or two. What follows are the highlights from my somewhat self-imposed "vacation."
*****
I am back from the online wilderness. AT&T finally came through for us. We now have a DSL connection at home, and a full three weeks before Comcast would have. Gawd I missed the infoweb. It was hard for me to pack the computer when we moved, like pulling the plug on a loved one. But without the inheritance.
*****
Today is the first day in a week that it has been under 100 degrees Fahrenheit. I hate it. I've been drinking and drinking and drinking all week and I think I've gone to the bathroom twice. I'm really looking forward to it...I'm not sure what that says about me as a person, but I'm certain it ain't good.
*****
Jen and I are slowly adjusting to our new place. We moved from a studio into a three bedroom apartment. I've actually been lost in our new place a few times. It's nothing a trail of bread crumbs won't fix. It's actually a nice problem to have. In our old place the only room with a door on it was the bathroom. By the end of our time there I was taking four showers a day just for the privacy. I think I washed off my fingerprints.
*****
Things I learned at the Iowa Fringe Festival (in no particular order):
-If you don't give the audience scenery you should at least give them free cookies
-Anyone dressed like an animal in public should be treated like one, no questions asked
-These guys can really put on a great show, with or without me
-Boobs are a good selling point for a show, put them on your posters...even if you're doing the Miracle Worker! ESPECIALLY if you're doing the Miracle Worker.
-We all like soda
*****
Movers are worth whatever you have to pay for them. Especially if you are a total candyass about the heat like I am. (See the above entry on urination)

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The Invisible Hand Giving You The Invisible Finger

Any idiot who is for deregulation has clearly never had to order a cable TV/internet/telephone package for a new apartment.

I was placed in charge of ordering the aforementioned packed of services from a local cable megaopoly a week ago. (For time and space reasons this will be referred to as mistake number one.) They informed me that it would be a month until they would be able to install said package, thus we would be without internet access, cable and phone service for a month. They'd TRY to put a rush on the order, but that would only mean we'd move up our install date by a week or two. Now, for the sake of argument it should be noted that our cell phone reception in the new apartment is horrid. We'd have a better chance of smoke signals relaying accurate information.

In the meantime my intelligent and charming wife, who makes part of her income online (don't ask!), suggested just switching over our current phone service to our new apartment and adding on the additional features. She made those arrangements and they are coming to install the whole shooting match on Friday. Problem solved, right? You have no idea.

I now had to call the corporate giant and tell them that I wasn't going to wait a month for service. I make the call and have to sit through a seemingly endless barrage of voice menus, all of which inform me that the company is experiencing "higher than normal call volume" and delays are expected. This is corporate code for, "Go away kid, you bother me." To add insult to injury the menu then suggests that I go check our the Frequently Asked Questions on their web site. Hmmmmmmm...let me just go over to my computer and, oh, right, no internet. Who can I call about that? Oh, right, the people on the other end of the phone who want me to go to the web.

Once I get an operator I explain my situation and she says, "Oh, you need to talk to someone in sales. I'll transfer you." I was taken aback by her helpfulness. Clearly she hadn't been with the company long. But even this little ray of sunshine found a way to rain on my parade. She transferred me to the wrong department.

"Just a second, I'll transfer you to sale," the new operator said.

Forgive me if I don't believe you, I thought.

While holding for the sales department a voice would come on to remind me to, "Please wait." It wasn't a reminder so much as a command. PLEASE WAIT! In fact the only thing it reminded me of was the fact that they were wasting my time. "You know that NOTHING that you're doing right now? Yeah, keep it up...indefinitely!"

Then, in the middle of my holding I got cut off. My cell phone dropped the call. I was not so blinded by fury as to miss the irony it's just that I didn't give a good God damn by that point.

So I called again. More menus. More questions. Finally I get an operator and tell him my situation and he tries to sympathize. "Well, if we could get you service by the 14th would you still want to cancel?" I informed him (through gritted teeth) that I would still like to cancel.

So now that I will have the infoweb at home I can start making more regular blog entries. Also, I apologize for any mistakes or grammatical errors in this entry. I had to pound it into a stone tablet and send it off to a friend to transcribe and upload it. I'm not sure how that all works, but I think it involves the Amish.




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