2005-08-22 - 10:40 p.m.

Ohhhhhh bitches! It's time once again for me to insult, degrade, piss off and just plain annoy you. Yet you still come back for more. You guys are the greatest.

At my work, we have this curse that gets passed every few weeks called "The 24 Hour Phone" and this past week was my turn. Where to begin? How about on Wednesday when I had to drive about 100 miles at 3:30am to fix a server problem. Better yet, I didn't get back home until 10:30am. Then, Friday I had the joy of working until 3:30am, and got a nice call when I pulled into my driveway that didn't end until 5:30am. Saturday, I got to go into work to fix a minor problem and Sunday night, I got yet another call around 1:00am this time. Needless to say, I really could go for a fucking drink right now. As I drove Wednesday night, I began to notice that the farther away from Chicago you go, the more inner breeding takes place. If you are about 45 miles outside of Chicago, you are on the border of having a relative as your future Mr. or Mrs. About 60 miles out, you begin to lose teeth and have urges to drive Cameros. At 90 miles out is the point of no return. Mullets were counted, hoedowns were....umm hoedowned, and hootenannys were, well whatever you see what I'm talking about.

There was a guy in the building I was at who had a shaved head with long hair at the very bottom of his neck. It was like a retarded person trying to make a mullet. Christ, when you can't even make a mullet, you have to have something wrong with you. Speaking of something wrong with him, he had the laziest eye that I have ever seen. This shit wasn't lazy, it was dead. I had no idea where to look so I stared at the ceiling while he talked to me. It was as bad as a train wreck and I could NOT stop looking directly into it. I would imagine this is what the guy who got mauled in Bakersfield looked like after the gorillas got done with him. I did cough the word freak as I walked away from him though.

My car is having some engine issues. I have a bent rod.....coincedentally, that's also what's wrong with my car. Thank you, I'm here all week. I have some knocking sound going on and Toyota is deciding whether or not to cover it even though it's under warranty. Since they are giant fucking douche bags, I'm going to go ahead and say I'm going to have to bend over on this one. When I first heard the noise, my girlfriend ever so cutely said, "Did you put a baseball card in your spokes?" because that is EXACTLY what it sounds like. Thanks hunny.

The ass stain at the Toyota counter was loaded with Customer Service when I called to check on it.

Toyota - "Service hold pl..."

*Take me home tonight, I don't wanna let you go till you see the light! Take me home tonight, listen or just rah lala sah.....be my little baby!*

Fucking shitty music.....

T - "Service....." (long long pause)

Me - Gave him all the information.

Toyota - "Oh yeah, dis is easily gwon ta take a week at least. Heh."

Me - "Umm....what? A week? What the fu....heck is going to take THAT long?" (slowly getting angry)

Toyota - "Well we gotta ship in dem parts and you got a bent rod in thur, you cain't driver like dat." (starting to get upset with me)

Me getting more pissed off - "Well what the hell can I do to put some form of urgency behind this? You do realize that this is my only car right?"

Toyota - "Welp, ya jus' gwonna' hav'ta' wait. Annathing else?"

Me - "Fuckin.....God Dammit......sigh......ok..." *click*

I realized that anything I say would probably prolong it more so I just relaxed, took a deep breath and exhaled. When that didn't work I punched my house.

Speaking of, ever accidentally hurt the shit out of yourself? I was shipping something at work and this is going to be impossible to explain. Basically we have a little desk, with no chair, just a computer that is tied to FedEx. Above the computer is a solid metal rack that is fairly low hanging that holds shipping boxes and random other shit. Well I leaned over to type in the name of the person I was shipping a package to and BANG! This shit echoed in the office. I put my forehead right into this stupid thing and had a nice red line across my forehead. When people came to see what in the hell was going on, I explained how I dropped the box on the table and it made a huge bang. I finished shipping the damn thing and ran into the bathroom to see my eyes welled up, blood shot and a sweet straight line across my forehead. Now that I look back on it, it is hilarious, but it hurt like a bitch and a half.

Well I am done making fun of myself. I leave with the parting joke that I am creating right off the top of my head that is a total dad joke. Here it goes:

Why did the bed linen salesman leave the party?

He ran out of sheet to say. *rimshot*

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