November 18th, 2008 - Fuck You Number 16

First and foremost, I would like to apologize for how long it has taken me in between posts as of late. I've been slacking, greatly. I am well aware of this, and for that, I apologize. I'll try not to let it happen again.

That being said, I will have you all know (the three of you who emailed me to tell me of my literary drought) that I HAVE been using my time wisely. Since my last post, I've consumed a quantity of whiskey known to be fatal to most Shetland ponies, and explored the seemingly uncharted territory between an anonymous beautiful blonde's legs. And I did it all while smoking enough cigarettes to bitch-slap the Marlboro man.

But enough about me. Now you know what I've been doing with my time in the last week, until this afternoon.

This afternoon I sat on hold with my cable company for an unacceptable amount of time. I don't recall the exact amount of time that I sat here on the phone, so I've devised a scheme that will assist us in deducing how much of my time I gave to, [Meatpoles] communications. 

Let us look at what we know. 

I spent way too much fucking time on hold today. 

We know that. How do we know that? I'll tell you how we know that.

We know that based on this simple equation (feel free to use it, it works): 

Time spent on hold is ≥ Number of times you wrap the duct-tape around your head securing your phone to your ear  X  Number of suicide attempts to end the conversation

There you have it. Simple as that. Try it out, I guarantee your outcome to be correct and accurate.

Fuck hold times. Fuck the complete and utter lack of customer service we have in our society today. 

Cheers.