Sometimes...

3.26.2005

Evils of the Cell Phone

To Whom it May Concern:

Oh Cingular, how I detest you. Remember last summer, when I renewed my contract with you for 2 years and added my soon-to-be husband to my account? You gave me an awesome deal: 850 shared minutes, unlimited nights and weekends for $70 a month, plus $10 extra for Shark's phone. I could've had less minutes and paid $60 a month and then added Shark's line for $20 extra. So if I'm going to pay that much, I might as well opt for the maximum of minutes, right? Despite the fact that we don't talk on the phone all that much. Just to family and each other. And Sparklehead, because she is goofy and I like talking to her. Plus, she pronounces her vowels differently, and it is cute!

Then, remember how, because I signed a 2 year contract, I got 2 new phones? I paid $100 a piece up front because you had a $50 rebate deal, plus $50 back if you returned a phone. There was no way to lose here. I was going to give you back my old phone as well as Shark's, send in the rebate info, and I would get $200 back from you. Cute little flip phones for free! The lady at the Cingular store in Tennessse (for that's where we were still living at the time) said the rebate offer was supposed to end the day before, but that it wouldn't be a problem as long as I sent in my receipt. Turns out, she lied. I know you use a different company for your rebates, so they were just doing their job. But that was really lousy on her part. And mine. So I spent $200 on a couple of phones that really weren't worth that (although I do like my phone, but it could've come with at least one interesting ringtone).

So then we moved to Louisiana. We just kept our phone numbers because we're lazy. Also because once we got here, we started signing up for things, applying for jobs, etc. and we didn't want to miss any calls or anything. And for several months, while I felt that I was paying way too much for our cell phone service (we probably use less than 500 minutes a month), I felt as if my hands were tied. I called you a month or so after moving here and asked if I could lower my plan, but the most I could lower it was by $10, and that just didn't really seem worth it.

But then we went back to Tennessee to visit, and we realized how badly it sucks there and how we have nothing there anymore. Or, maybe that's just me. Shark has his friends, but they can't be inconvenienced enough to see him. So I don't really think they're friends, but he says that's just "how they are." So I don't think he has anything, either. He didn't even get to see his best friend (who was the best man in our wedding!). Granted, he was in jail one night, but he was let out the next day. Which was weird. He was on probation and got caught about a year ago smoking weed, so they decided the other night to throw him in jail for that. What? Why didn't they do that when it happened? As much as I'd like to, I can't blame that on you, Cingular. But I will, however, blame anything I can on you. Our next to last day in Tennessee, Shark said to me, "When we get home, let's change our cell phone numbers." I don't know if he did that for me or for himself, but either way... it was sort of a liberating feeling. Breaking that last tie to Tennessee (exempting family, of course).

Yesterday, we had to run some errands, and we found a Cingular store. We went in, and the girl there had no idea how to change our numbers to be Louisiana numbers. She finally figured it out -- after about half an hour -- and we seemed to get all set up. The girl also informed us that we were not, in fact, on contract. That was the best news ever! I knew I wanted to get away from you foul people, and here's my chance! Anyway, we ended up with new fancy phone numbers. Everything was yay! I called my mom, my sis, the Beckster, the requisite people to tell about the new phone number. Shark tried to call his parents, but their answering machine wasn't picking up. Everything was hunky hunky dory...

Until Shark went to work last night. He gave his phone number to his co-workers, and I don't even know why one tried to call him, but they couldn't. So Shark tried to call me from his cell and he couldn't. He called the house phone from his work phone and it turns out that we can't call each other, and he can't call anyone. Also, our voicemail doesn't work. When I try to set it up, it says our numbers aren't valid. And I know a phone call to customer service would more than likely fix all this... but on the other hand, maybe not. I remember when I first got our new phones, I tried to call you to figure out how to send pictures to my phone. You were very less than helpful, and that was after being on hold for 30 minutes. I never was able to configure pictures on my phone. Although, I did call you yesterday afternoon to confirm that I am, indeed, done with my contract with you. The lady I talked to was very friendly, but that one friendly person doesn't outweigh your horrible actions over the past year.

And so I'm not even going to bother with trying to fix our cell phone problem. Y'all can eat my ass for all I care. I did some extensive cell phone plan shopping last night and narrowed it down to T-Mobile and Verizon. After hearing not such good things about Motorola (the phone I'd picked out with T-Mobile) and hearing that T-Mobile has not very good reception in this area and they aren't adding any more towers around here -- oh, and Sparklehead, even though she doesn't care what I choose, was singing Verizon's praises... I decided to switch to Verizon. I ordered two new phones ($30 a piece -- online special, no rebates -- rebates suck my asshole -- although Porn Star got her rebate from Verizon rather quickly) last night. 2-5 business days until it all gets here. I'm a little wary about ordering cell phone services online, but I have 15 days to decide. And you know what? I'd rather take my chances on anything else but you dumb fucks.

Good-bye, evil evil Cingular. I've no doubt I'll have problems cancelling you. But I've said it once, and I'll say it again.

Eat. My. Ass.

3.06.2005

Pickles in a Pouch

There is a product on the market that has recently come to my attention. Apparently, it's been around for a while, but since I don't patronize gas stations and smut stores on a regular basis, I haven't come across it until recently.

This product of which I speak is none other than Van Holten's Pickle in a Pouch. My first encounter with this scary beast came last weekend in line to rent a couple of movies at the local video store ("Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind" and "Saved!" for those of you keeping score at home -- both ended up being pretty good, with Eternal several notches better than Saved!). I saw this box of pickles in pouches next to the register. My immediate reaction was extreme amusement, and it took me a while to catch my breath from all the laughter.

However, last night, Shark came home from work and said, "You're supposed to ask me, 'Is that a pickle in a pouch in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?' " He had bought me a hot and spicy jumbo pickle (as opposed to ranch flavor or some other such atrocity).

Because the pickle has been sitting here staring at me for a good 20 hours or so now, I felt that it would only be wise to share the horror. I'm just going to let the pictures speak for themselves.

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Reading the Testimonials at the website was another frightening experience. Here are a few choice statements about these pickles:

  • I just wanted to let you all know that I love your pickles to death!
  • Van Holten's Pickles saved my life.
  • I don't know what i'd do without a pickle in a pouch.
Because I figured that the people who said these things were sitting there with a gun (or a pickle) at their throats, and because if you ate a whole one of these things you would consume approximately 4200mg of sodium, I decided to redo the pouch:

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Disclaimer: I love pickles. I love salt. I love anything pickled-- except pig's feet (mmmmhhmmm... pickled okra). I mean no harm to Van Holten's, but this is just too disturbing to me.