MSN had yet another fascinating (and when I say "fascinating" I mean "space filling article") article
entitled: ten things every dude should have in his closet. They were: sunglasses (in your closet?! floor of your car, maybe...), white oxford shirt,
cashmere v-neck sweater, dark jeans, white shirt, black lace ups, cedar shoe trees, overnight bag, navy suit, medium width tie.
Ok, guys who read this, how many of
those do you have in your closet? And did you really need an article to tell you to get them?
Mr. G has five of them and he's your "average guy." Cedar shoe trees? Yeah, right. That's a metrosexual list if ever I've heard one.
Guys, here's the ten things you REALLY need in your closet:
1. Blonde blow up doll
2. Another blonde blow up doll in case you get a tad too excited and the first one breaks.
3. Back up to the back up blow up doll--brunette--for when your sense of self esteem is low and you think you're too uglee to land a hot blonde.
4. Navy and/or black suit.
5. Wingtips cuz I think they're sexy. 'Nuff said.
6. Porn--hidden well to the back in case Mom drops in.
7. Crisp white dress shirt because...see # 5.
8. Long shoe horn to scratch your wife's back. And your scrotum.
9. Tie that doesn't clip on.
10. If you're gay (or Mr. Rogers), several of those sweaters to wear tied around your neck.
(Straight guys, avoid sweaters that tie around your neck. They scream, "I'm gay and I don't know how to dress myself!!!")
Ok, America, I'VE HAD IT!! I am sick and tired of people pushing foreign languages on us. It's bad enough that every set
of instructions has to come with four other sheets all in different languages, but NOW we have Chou Chou. With just a flip of a switch Chou Chou begins speaking Spanish.
You can also purchase "ethic talking Chou Chou". I guess she says stuff like "lemme axe you a question," and "who's your boo?"
Or you can buy "white talking Chou Chou". WTH?! She says things like "my daddy's in prison" and "I hope the trailer doesn't blow away in the Hurricane!"
Do these idiots not know the term "Caucasian"?
Why don't they just call her "politically correct Chou Chou" and be done with it?
The funny thing is that baby doll says stuff a two year old couldn't say.
BTW, what the hell kind of name is CHOU CHOU?!
Hmm, I wonder if this would be a good time to start guilting Santa about that Chrissy doll he never brought me??
I have returned, people! I was offline for almost--control yourselves--twenty four hours!! Did ya miss me?
It was killer. Even more killer was having to deal with the foreign Verizon jackass that spoke broken English.
This on the heels of having to deal with the DISH guy the night before.
Why, oh why have you foresaken me, tech support monkeys?!
But thankfully, the DISH dude spoke English.
Anymore when I get someone who speaks clear English, I figure I've won half the battle already. Trust me, it's truly a JOY trying to talk me through stuff like this.
Even though I basically know what they're talking about, for some reason I get really anxious when I have to deal with tech stuff.
Ask Mike South. It's truly a pleasure helping me out with computer "stuff".
When I get a person who doesn't speak English, I have this overwhelming urge to force the idiot that hired him/her to
take instuctions on how to fix their problem over the phone with them.
First of all, he was talking quietly, and I had to keep saying, "I can't hear you." Then I was dealing with the "I'm sorry, I can't understand what you're saying" bullshit.
Along with that, he was one of those people who thanked you for EVERYTHING.
"What system are you running?"
"Windows 98 Second Ed."
"Thank you for that information."
"Is this machine hardwired to the modem?"
"Yes, it is."
"Thank you for that information."
"What do you see on the screen in front of you?"
"It's my screensaver. It's a guy jacking off. Wait for it....wait for it...wait for--oh, he came!"
"Thank you for that information."
The problem was that I was not getting an IP addy for either machine. It's always fun for me to see how long the tech monkey will take to shift the blame onto someone else.
Less than six minutes into the conversation, he diserned that the problem was Gateway's. EVEN THOUGH, neither computer could get an IP addy.
He said I needed to have have my "NIC card" uninstalled and reinstalled.
At least that's what I think he was calling it. God (and apparently Mohammed) only knows.
He could have been saying "you need a complete hysterectomy" and I would have been none the wiser.
Gateway dude took almost ten minutes to send me back to Verizon. In the meantime, I decided I was sick of dealing with the problem and went to bed.
When I got up this morning, I called Verizon again and got a sharp chick, who not only spoke English,
but she knew exactly what she was doing and she got me back online in about ten minutes.
Oh, and I timed it this time: it takes over SIX MINUTES to get put in the queue for tech support on Verizon.
Six minutes of listening to that idiotic computerized chick telling you the same bullshit over and over.
I didn't sweat DISH too much because I went online and followed the steps to correcting my problem there. The only thing is I accidentally
eliminated one of my satellite's and couldn't figure out how to get it back.
All I needed to do was run one more check switch and I would have had it.
The next time I have the urge to get a dog, I'm going to have a kid instead and here's why. I've screamed the
same threats so much over the years, that all I have to do now is yell, "Hey, little red headed kid
whose dad is serving 2-4 for robbery, Parental Threat #2!"
He immediately knows he's in danger of getting a kick in the ass if he doesn't clean up his pig filthy room.
(And that I have no idea what his name is...)
If I say "Parental Threat #16!" he knows he wasn't born in a barn and he needs to shut the front door or risk getting a kick in the ass.
But with the dog, I'm forced to scream out all my threats again.
The minute I get on the phone with tech support--and this never fails--Holly starts trying to get my attention.
First she'll try nipping at me, and when that doesn't work, she'll grab wash cloths out of the hamper and start tearing them up.
While I was on the phone with Verizon and Gateway, I was typing with one hand, smacking her with the other and
making those threatening "you are sooo gonna regret this!" faces the entire time.
Oddly those faces seem to have about as much effect on her as they do the offspring, who usually counter with a goofy face of their own.
I was so tired last night that when Holly started ripping up another wash cloth, I told Male Offspring #3 to correct her.
The little brat said, "Good doggie. Goooood doggie," and earned himself a kick in the ass.