Thursday, September 17, 2009

Bete Noire

Recently I dreamed of vampires. It's rare for the undead to visit in my dreams. In fact, it's only been within the past few years that the macabre actually moved from my waking fantasy life to the sleeping one. I use my subconscious zombie apocalypse scenarios to see who I should throw under the bus. It's a nice little crib sheet to have in case of doom. It's no surprise, though, that the majority of people I see on a day to day basis are apparently expendable.

The thing about the few zombie dreams I've had, they are so matter of fact. It's something I don't question, rather it's a puzzle I need to solve. So and so has just become infected, what can I do to keep their lumbering, festering self from infecting me and others around me? Should I build an enclosure from pieces of cubicle wall?

This vampire dream I had, phew, the horror surprised me. Vampires are always such pansies, with their romantic aspirations and questionable existential struggles. In fact, within my dreamscape there was a romance brewing. Not with me, I was an obstacle. I don't know how, but I knew I was in the way. What does that say about the way I view myself? Now for some reason the vampires were British. Not a John Statham British, more of an Eric Idle brit. Just thinking about it now, I can't imagine why I was so filled with potential terror. I don't think it ever really reached actual terror, just that adrenalized frustration of pursuit, knowing that physically I was just no match against the pair of blood suckers. They weren't after my blood. My blood's probably tainted at this point any way. They were after a ring I was wearing. I haven't worn a ring since, well, ever. So what this claptrap was doing wrapped around my finger is a mystery. Also a mystery is why I didn't just toss the damned thing. So there was a girl, who had nothing to do with me, she was merely the intended recipient of my ring, the one ring. To rule them all. Needless to say, I was caught eventually and instead of taking the ring from me, they just ripped my finger off. Boy that was interesting. Somewhere in there, my mind couldn't translate what it must feel like to have a finger just torn right off so I left my body. That's when I realized that for some reason I was British too.

And there you have it. My one nightly encounter with Nosferatu.

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Tuesday, July 21, 2009

Egads! Comcast eats my nuts!

My cherished beloved nuts. Just 13 months ago, I was paying just under $45 a month for Comcast. I was paying $55 for just internet service (which was well worth it since I was paying more than that for shoddy DSL service before that. what a crap.) But they called me (whilst I was over in the Vegas way) and told me they would lower my monthly bills, all I had to do was get basic cable. Wait, says I, you want to give me more service and lower my bills? I thought it had the smell of Scam about it but was assured that if I discovered I didn't want to keep it my service would revert back at no cost. There was no cancellation fee or anything. Balls out! I gave the go ahead. So there I was blissfully immersing myself back into american pop culture. Ten years, sans tv. Boy did I forget how much I hate commercials.

Here, my views of Comcast were highly elevated. I was pleased, nay, elated by the gifts bestowed upon me by the very gods of media......until I had to move. When the day came for me to part ways with the ramshackle hut I previously called a home I called Comcast to move my service. After all they advertised all sorts ease and convenience in my move. I was then told that the service I had up to this point was not Comcast. So even though my checks were made out to Comcast and cashed by Comcast, it wasn't really Comcast at all. In fact to get Comcast, I had to call Comcast up to cancel and then call Comcast (the real Comcast) to get new service. When I asked about the cost, explaining how much I was paying, she literally laughed at me. The best she could do, to match what I was paying is to give me the starter package at $68 a month. So, to switch from Comcast to Comcast, I had to pay an additional $23 a month. Ok, I caved, at this point I was addicted to the damned boob tube already. It wasn't that much and I was fairly certain what I was paying before was a little on the low side. (Skeptically low, if you recall from just a paragraph ago)

It was around this time I learned the awful joys of Comcast service. Each step of the way was a torturous experience. Setting up this fiasco I called Comcast, they in turn transferred me to Comcast, who then transferred me to Comcast, after which I was transferred to Comcast, who sent me back to the original Comcast. I believe this exchange took me 2 hrs of holding, just to set up a date to have someone come over. Seriously, a 15 second conversation that took me hours.

A week before the scheduled date, I come home from work to find a note on my door complaining that I wasn't there for the appointment. I assumed it was a mistake. The next day I found another note stating the same thing and advising me they weren't going to come again until I called. Back to the phones I go....

Once this was fixed, the cable guy came to install my cable. He finished the job within minutes. But then....he had to call it in. They kept him on hold for over an hour. 1/2 an hour in he was flipping out. He explained to me how crappy it was to do work for Comcast because this kind of shit was constant. That doesn't bode well thinks I.

The first thing I noticed was that all 100's of channels did not correspond to the guide that was given me. Add to that, the fact it takes up to 5 seconds to switch from channel to channel made channel surfing an impossibility. I was assured that this would be corrected. (It was, it just took 6 months, at which point I had memorized the wrong pattern already)

In the past year, I had to call for service once, as nothing on my television resembled anything other than little blocks of epileptic colors. This was also not a pleasant experience. And took multiple visits.

Not that long ago, Verizon FIOS came by trying to hawk their wares. I turned them away solely based on my horrid previous experience of transition. But today I got my bill. Apparently my previous monthly bill was an introductory rate. I am now to pay $119 a month for the same damned thing I was paying $45 for 13 months ago. To the same damned company.

In summation, Comcast eats my nuts!! And they will eat yours as well, those squirrely bastards!!

Wednesday, November 19, 2008

damned

the binary gods hate me.

01000110 01010101 binary gods!

Tuesday, October 28, 2008

The Rick

the thing about vanity plates is that i'm not interested in whatever you feel there is about you that you feel you must share with the general public. at least not while i'm stuck behind you in traffic during a sudden snowstorm in october. be it how solid your relationship is by putting both your initials on there, or your occupation, or you ego like "THE RICK", or you sense of humor. but today i was behind a plate that said "RAMRODN" driven by a man that was about 345 yrs old. what's he telling me?

Saturday, October 18, 2008

There's been a shift in scenery this way. No more leaks, no more haunts. No more cheap ass rent. And I promise you that this stupid couch/bed will be turned to kindling if I move again. The thing is a beast and mauled me several times during our journey together. I'm going to be investing in furniture made of balsa and bubblewrap.

My occupation has also turned, I no longer feel sick to my soul doing my job.

In different news, today I traded in some useless and mediocre dvds for some horror movies. And with my store credit and various sales I got 4 of em for $6.66. Which makes this the third time this week that number has reared it's ugly head. 666 pieces of spam for a friend, and digging up old files at work dated 06/06/06. What to make of it all eh?

this is just a preliminary post to see if i feel like continuing.