Of Apples and Pampers
I don't have Photoshop on my new computer. Otherwise this image would probably have been funny as hell.
File this post under “I’m Not Fucking Kidding” and “Even My Twisted Brain Couldn’t Have Thought of This.”
Perhaps I need a new category called “I Shit You Not.”
Hello my little wannabe negativists. Today I regale you with a tale that illustrates, without question, why I am the all-time Guru of Negativity. If you have the mental wherewithal, step inside my head and see what it’s like to be in my shoes.
The story begins last Friday…
Friday after work I picked up my iMac from the local authorized Apple factory repair shop. Lo and behold, the thing was finally fixed, and only after 15 business days. Three full weeks.
But…
There was a new problem. The fan now ran at full speed and the covenant of a super-quiet computer had been broken. The thing sounded like a vacuum cleaner.
I would have asked, “Why me?” but I don’t much care for asking questions where I already know the answer.
So Monday morning I schlepped the thing back into the shop.
That’s when this conversation took place:
Me: This thing has already been here 15 business days. Will you escalate this for a fast turn around time?
Employee #1: This sort of thing shouldn’t take long.
Employee #2: I can escalate you to some Pampers.
Me: Eh? Er, what???
Employee #2: Some poopy Pampers I just found in the parking lot. Seriously, can you believe people??
You’re preaching to the fucking choir, lady. But, more importantly…
WHAT IN THE MOTHERFUCKING HELL??????
These are the people that Apple hires to provide my warranty repair?
I am not making this up!!! That was the conversation. Verbatim. No embellishment. No artistic license. No lie.
At times, like when shit like this happens to me, I seriously doubt that I’m alive. I figure this reality must be some kind of mind fuck and I’m already dead and gone and shipped to Hell. And part of that Hell is that I don’t get to know it. Makes it so much more delicious and sublime, eh?
So yeah, neither employee bothered to actually answer my question. At this point, I had fucking had it. I decided to be more proactive about my repair.
I called them Monday at 1pm. “Is this Tom?” they asked. They were beginning to recognize the sound of my voice. Good!
“It might be ready today,” I was told. Yeah, I’ve heard that happy crappy before. Lies.
I waited all afternoon for the call that never came.
Then I did something brilliant. I got off work and drove directly to the shop. I walked in and they said, “Here ya go! All fixed.”
Fuck. Were you ever going to let me know that? Assholes. Thanks for the call.
“The piece of tape must have come loose. I re-taped it.”
That’s it? That’s an all-repair for you motherfuckers? And what’s this about a “piece of tape?” The fate of my iMac hangs in the balance over a piece of fucking tape? Jesus Christ!!!
Conclusion: The thing seems fixed. But I know I can’t trust my own senses. We’ll see. And that shop was one of the worst things to ever happen to me in my whole life. The hate in me in swelling.
This is the sort of shit that happens to me. Hopefully you can now begin to see how I reached Guru status.
This post written with a Mac.
V is for Vexting
There I was, laying in bed this morning, and minding my own business. Suddenly a shot rang out.
Oh, wait. No, scratch that. Sorry, I got a little too carried away there for a moment.
I was laying in bed and thinking ahead to this very post. What was I going to do with the letter “V” in the A-Z Blogger Challenge? In my mind I arranged different vowels after “V” and let different V-words come to mind. Eventually I settled on the word “vex.” Yes, I thought, mostly to myself. I can probably do something with “vex.” And then: discovery! I invented the word “vexting.”
Or so I thought.
Curse you, internets!
I fired up Google and punched it in. And there it was, on the Urban Dictionary, circa Dec. 16, 2009. Holy shit.
Why can’t any of my inventions ever be original? We’ve all got our special gifts, talents, and God-given abilities, right? Mine seems to be inventing things that already exist. A talent like that is a curiosity, a mere trifle. It doesn’t seem to do much when it comes to lavishing power and riches on yours truly.
By now, though, that’s something I’ve mostly accepted and adjusted to.
Vexting was gonna be another word in my so-called “demotivational dictionary.” It was gonna be something.
vexting – the act of making others angry while texting
Ex: “Did you see that son of a bitch? He was vexting all over the sidewalk – while pushing a baby in a stroller! That makes me sick!”
Well, you heard it here second, folks, and from a classic all-American duplicate. [dialing] “Hello, Universe? Yes, this is the little speck of an Earthling known as Tom. I’ll take another participant ribbon, please. Thanks.” [click]
I apologize. My treatment of the letter “V” in this challenge has been deplorable. I will therefore have to provide a bonus entry to try to salvage the situation.
Does anybody here remember Vera Lynn?
Does anybody here remember Vera Lynn
Remember how she said that
We would meet again
Some sunny day
Vera! Vera!
What has become of you
Does anybody else in here
Feel the way I do?
Says Wikipedia:
Dame Vera Lynn, DBE (born Vera Margaret Welch on 20 March 1917) is an English singer and actress whose musical recordings and performances were enormously popular during World War II. During the war she toured Egypt, India and Burma, giving outdoor concerts for the troops. She was called “The Forces’ Sweetheart”; the songs most associated with her are “We’ll Meet Again” and “The White Cliffs of Dover”. She remained popular after the war, appearing on radio and television in the UK and the United States and recording such hits as “Auf Wiederseh’n Sweetheart” and “My Son, My Son”. In 2009 she became the oldest living artist to make it to No. 1 on the British album chart, at the age of 92. She has devoted much time and energy to charity work connected with ex-servicemen, disabled children and breast cancer. She is still held in great affection by veterans of the Second World War and in 2000 was named the Briton who best exemplified the spirit of the twentieth century.
She’s still alive, too. 94 years old and still going. Wow.
This is my “V” post for the April 2011 “A to Z Blogging Challenge.”
Shouts from the Abyss 
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