A Monumental Blog

if it didn't require so much damn work to write these things, i'd probably do a lot more blogs. maybe if i could just talk and have someone type it for me. well i don't have that, so my blogs are quite infrequent. here's one i wasn't sure would "make the cut", but christ, i'm pretty desperate for blogs right now. desperate like a speed-dating 43 year old Star Trek fan. creepy.

this one was intended to be a poem, until i started writing, at which point i realized it wasn't poetic. at all. yet another pointless, rambling, incoherent conjunction of words. i wrote it while watching a tennis match.

you may be wondering why this blog is "monumental". well folks, i have finally discovered how to add pictures to my blog, after never trying this once. i'd like to say i've searched for how to do this, but really, i just clicked the button that says "add image". SO... what this blog lacks in poetic beauty, it makes up in giant pictures. enjoy.

The Awful, Awful Things I Would Do To Maria Sharapova

First of all, food would definitely be involved. Butter, maybe. But you can't just have butter, so maybe I'd throw in some toast or an english muffin or something.

The things I would do would definitely be illegal in the U.S., but would likely be encouraged in Vietnam.

My God, she's my height (6'2"). Not that I'm a giant, but JESUS. She's a freak, but she's a hot freak.

Serena Williams is a dirty, dirty whore.

Fin.

DLP

two blogs in three days, i'm proud. of course, i've been home sick, so i've had plenty of time on my hands. by the way, make sure you put a latex glove over your mouse, because i'm contagious.

i swear to god, the "it's the mirrors" girl MUST BE STOPPED.

that is all.

Dish Network convo

these damned people from Dish Network keep calling me. but they only call while i'm at work, so they're always leaving messages. and i realize i could put myself on the "do not call" list or whatever, but guess what? i don't feel like it. i'd rather write a blog about my experiences.

ok this happened like 3 weeks ago. that's how lazy i've been to FINALLY put it on here. i saved the convo, so here you go.

when they leave a message, you'd think the stereotype would be:
"Hello sir, my name is Jim with Dish Network and I'd like to offer you an exciting new promotion!"

but their messages are more like this:
"Hey guys, what's up. it's bobby. listen, give me a call back, i did get you guys approved for a three room setup (by the way, the "you guys" thing is kind of obvious since i live alone, douche). we can go ahead and do the installation and everything, no problem. so yeah, guys, just give me a call back, my number is XXX-XXX-XXXX.

i know what they're doing. in sales, we call it "indifference". really, ANYONE could call it that. but it's very powerful... the whole idea is make it totally casual and the person might say (in this case)... "hm, maybe bobby and i did talk. i don't remember it, but then again, i'm a cracked out redneck."

so i get tired of this ass clown calling me all the time, and i finally call him back. here are the conversation....s. basically word for word.

Call #1
Gina: Thanks for calling Dish Network, this is Gina, how can I help you?
Me: Yeah, Bobby please.
Gina: ~pause~ I'm... sorry?
Me: I'm trying to get in touch with my boy Bobby.
~click~

Call #2
Jared: Thanks for calling Dish Network, this is Jared, how can I help you?
Me: Someone just hung up on me.
Him: They hung up on you?
Me: I don't get it. I'm trying to call Bobby to see if he wants to hang.
Him: If he wants to hang?
Me: Come on, you know how Bobby is (I later realized this made NO sense). I was just going to see if he wanted to shoot some hoops.
(now realizing i'm screwing around)
Him: Ah, I see. Where do you live?
Me: Virginia.
Him: We're in Portland (Oregon).
Me: WOW.
Him: That's a long drive.
Me: Fuck that, i'm hitchhiking. Hey is that legal in Oregon?
Him: Probably.
Me: Sweet. Well, tell B i said "what up" and he can hit me up lata. And tell Gina to take the stick out of her ass.
Him: Haha, I'll let uh, them know.
Me: Peace out, mo fo.

if they're going to leave friendly messages on my machine then WHY WON'T HE BE MY FRIEND? IT'S BECAUSE I'M FAT, ISN'T IT??? (runs to room sobbing)