|Posted on Wednesday, April 10, 2002 - 7:02 am: |
Made my morning, Rabid.
Down here in Uruguay, there are no telemarketers...or they haven't tracked me down yet...
If they do, the good news is that Uruguayans are so polite that the telemarketer would probably listen to the entire spiel, and then wish me a good day!
|Posted on Tuesday, April 9, 2002 - 10:23 pm: |
I've been at work for 12.5 hours now.
I have been doing that for weeks, and the fatigue has finally caught up with me. As I type this, I see phantom pink teddy bears, just their outlines, skim across my vision.
When I get tired, my brains begin to attempt to sort things into patterns that don't need sorting. Like there are these little tiles in the bathroom, and they are square. My eyes drew lines through all the points because they lined up, a counter-grid done instantaneously in our very large poop depository.
The floor looked like it flashed bright white, like some kinda heads up display for guys that lay tile had been installed illegally in my forebrain along with a pink teddy bears screen saver and strange whirling vortex desktop theme.
Soon, I will go home. Drinking? No, ossifer. I been makin money fo da man. Now kindly ask your extra head to stop staring at me so.
|Posted on Tuesday, April 9, 2002 - 9:54 pm: |
rabbi-nose- you should record it then play it back so you only waste your breath on them once. it's brilliant I might have to try it if they get through my "call intercept".
|Posted on Tuesday, April 9, 2002 - 9:47 pm: |
Mr Rabid, single handedly I think you have resurected the dead. Very seriously.
|Posted on Tuesday, April 9, 2002 - 9:20 pm: |
|Posted on Tuesday, April 9, 2002 - 8:58 pm: |
Tommorrows rant to the telemarketer that awakens me. It would have been today, it sprung full blown into my mind even as I rolled out of bed, but alas she hung up too soon.
Me: "That sounds pretty interesting- but you know what would really interest me?
I want to see the oceans boiled away, leaving only a great blasted desert of salt, salt as far as the eye can see.
And every person in the whole wide world is there- even me. And all of us are crucified, but not on crosses. Instead, we are impaled wrist and shin, to giant golden 'M's- the sigil of Mammon. And round and round us capers the terrible clown, his servant on the earth, and his name is Ronald.
And as we listen to Ronalds giggles as he rubs the salt in our wounds, we each of us answer the cellular phone that has been duct taped to our heads, a digital crown of thorns with no limit on evenings and weekends.
For we know that Jesus is calling, with a limited time offer, too good to pass up- salvation, with no payments till June!
But Jesus, he can't get through on the line- for by some trick of this hell on earth, there's already somebody on the phone.
And do you know who it is? It's you, you on every single line at the same time, and Jesus, he's almost out of minutes on his AT&T calling card, so there will be no turning of water into Coca-Cola for us this day. Only the sun and the salt and Ronald laughing, and of course this wonderful offer you are making.
But I really would like to talk to you about your service- but one moment, my call waiting is going off and I think it might be the Saviour.............
Shit- you still there? Shit. It was you."
I hope I can get through the whole thing before they hang up.