Saturday, June 24, 2006

Weasely business tactics R Us

This one goes out to all the scum businessmen who can't bring themselves to do one honest day of business. They are sons and daughters of crack whores. Here's an exemplar.

Some time back I decided to have my couch cleaned. Some scumbag carpet-cleaning business had sent me a junk mail ad, and I rang them up. They said yes they'd shampoo my couch and it would cost what it said on the ad, namely $20. Now I'm a single student that hasn't had the chance to develop his shampoo costing skills, never having had my couch shampooed and all. Therefore, I smelt no rats and sent for the van.

Out of the van tumbled an Israeli, a Mexican, much piping and tubing, and something that looked like a hobby cement mixer. All of these converged on my couch. At the bidding of the Israeli, the Mexican blew a gentle mixture of air and water all over the couch. This gentle spray landed very gently on the couch and the whole operation conveyed to me a sense of soothing gentleness. I was tingling in anticipation of the launch of actual shampooing, which I assumed would be rugged business with the potential to shatter the couch if not done right. Not so.

"That," said the Israeli when the Mexican was done, "is what we call shampooing."

I demanded to know what had been achieved in terms of cleaning the couch.

"Ahh, cleaning! That is a totally different business altogether and completely; fully unrelated to the present enterprise," explained the Israeli. "For to achieve actual cleaning, one must rigorously perform the steps of... Deep Cleaning!"

Deep cleaning?

"Yes, Deep Cleaning! The process will restore your couch to the factory-default setting of cleanliness that it originally shipped in. It is a scientific process involving many tubes, pesticides and fragrances, all of which the Mexican and I happen to be carrying with us. Would you like Deep Cleaning to be performed for the embarrassingly trivial cost of $120 (I blush at the sound of the amount, it is so shamefully insubstantial)?"

I didn't know about that, being a starving student and what not. $120 isn't exactly chickenfeed; it could buy me half a used textbook at the university bookstore, if I caught a year-end sale.

Sensing my caution, the Israeli sought to win my confidence. He said he was in fact not sure how effectively he could clean the couch, and said he would like to perform a small test before he felt confident asking for my custom. That struck me as a sound first step, and I gave him the go-ahead. With a quick nod, he set in motion the Mexican, who attacked the couch savagely this time. When the dust had settled, a one-foot square of pristinely clean fabric was shining out of the grime of the rest of the couch, and an Israeli was asking me, "So do you want the Deep Cleaning?"

One foot square! I realized what cocksucking bastardity had just been inflicted on me. I couldn't possibly refuse at this point. I obviously needed the whole couch uniformly radiant. This guy was very well schooled in the ways of crack-whore sons too. He didn't budge from his price and I realized whatever I could do in retaliation wasn't worth the effort. I like to not spend my weekends arguing with the world's crack whore heritage.

So in the end I was out $120, and the couch-cleaner and his junk-mail-sending masters were forever memorialized on this blog as SONS OF CRACK WHORES.

Monday, June 19, 2006

Per capita stupidity

It took me two decades to figure out that "per capita" means "per person." It COMPLETELY goes against logic and plain common sense to say capita when you mean to say person. Do I say volgat when I want to say finger? Then why on frigging EARTH would you say capita when you want to say person?

The wasted fucking years. I could've been an economist by now.

I HATE these cunty habits. Seriously, you helpless toads, do you have ANY balls at all, to say things the straight way, instead of the thousand-year-old way?

Salt should be fucking visible

I have better things to do than peer into my breakfast to count tiny white, nearly-invisible crystals so I know when to stop jacking off the salt shaker. Why isn't this shit purple or something?

Thursday, June 15, 2006

Door parasites

Ever hold a spring-loaded door open for someone following you and they don't take the fuck over? I mean they just sail through the opening that has so considerately been created for them, with no effort to stick a hand out and take over the holding open of the door. You're playing doorman while the parasite gains his passage with a jaunty swinging of the arms by his side.

What kind of dumbfuck pestilence is capable of such egregiously parasitic behavior? Who are these people's incompetent mothers? Where are these diseased people being spawned and bred?

I was once so disgusted with just such a parasite that I let go of the door while he was still in the doorway. Door whacked him in the face but not hard enough.

You watch out, shits. I'm going to flatten all your profiles before I'm through with you.