I got the Internet yesterday, but maybe you don't care. I care because I don't have a life. The only life I have revolves around me spending all my time trying to make this blog the only thing you want. I spend way too much time on this blog. I don't remember how much time I spent editing the last piece I wrote, but it was quite a large part of last night. I know none of you want to go back and read it again even though I added the part of the story where I meet Connie Hawkins who is a real live Hall of Fame basketball player.
I am using a 99 dollar computer I bought from an ad in the Greensheet so you know I can trust it when the owner of the computer store says that my computer does not need a fan. He says he added some kind of liquid cooling thingy and that will keep the computer from over heating. I guess we will have to wait and see. I did get him to add an additional month to my warranty.
All I know is that the computer comes with Windows 2000 which I thought would be ok, but now I have to say I am not too sure. Windows 2000 can't run the latest version of the Google toolbar which means I will have to manually add all my favorites into the Explorer browser. I can't even import my list of favorites from 2006 that I saved in my hotmail account.
Windows 2ooo only runs version 6.0 of Internet Explorer and old versions of Microsoft's media package. I hope one day Microsoft gets around to helping out us old folks who don't realize that you need to buy updated operating systems. I think I may try downloading Google's new browser.
I got the Internet yesterday and afterwards I was as happy as a school boy. I love the Internet and I am addicted to talking to you kids on it. I love the Internet more than I love the starving children in the Sudan. I don't want to love the Internet more little hungry black babies , I'm just being honest.
TO THE GIRL FROM QUEST WHO INSTALLED MY INTERNET YESTERDAY. I THINK YOU ARE HOT.
I had a feeling that my Internet was going to be installed by a woman and I was right. The person who showed up to install my broadband was a tall blond chick with nice tits that stood up and filled out her grey pocket t-shirt. She wore a pair of tight fitting flare jeans and she pulled her hair back in a pony tail. She was cute in a white trash "I can fix my own car" kinda way. Her face was a little greasy from being out in the heat and she did not wear any make up.
Once I saw her I knew that it was no use trying to get her to notice that I had "accidentally" forgotten to unpack all my books in the hopes that she would be impressed with my reading habits. Some chicks see my home library and the vagina goes all frothy. Of course those girls are so horny for me I could make tapes of myself beheading infidels and they could find it something to be horny over.
I practiced a few opening lines before my quest tech date arrived. I was going to ask her if she got frightened by showing up to random strangers homes and being alone with men she did not know. But "Julie" was talking on the headset connected to her phone the entire time she was in my house so I never got the chance to ask her. I guess she could always scream for help to her dispatch and trouble shooting team so that probably relieved her fears about coming inside. If I could not generate fear in her from our situation, I knew I would not be able to generate any excitement in her loins.
As with any installation there were issues. For instance Julie did not show up until 12:15 A FULL 15 MINUTES after the latest time Quest said she was going to be there. She then had trouble installing my jack. She told me I may only get half the speed I was supposed to get.
At some point Julie needed help and called a guy to come over and help her fix my network. The guy walked into my apartment without knocking first. He had not given Julie enough time to walk from my bedroom to open the front door for him. I was a little surprised when the door opened, but I quickly surmised from his tool belt and Julie's apology that he was a Quest employee too.
He was tall and stupid looking like a college frat guy. I could tell Julie had a crush on him and he is probably fucking her even though he has a girlfriend. Julie and Stupid Frat Boy had an easy communication style that was beyond working together and exhibited the characteristics of people who have seen each other naked.
Julie installed my wireless modem and hooked both the computers up wirelessly even though I requested that both my computers be connected by ethernet cables.
Julie installed my computers with cute little adapters that harness the wireless signal and translate it into the Internet. I hope I did not get charged for them other wise I will have to raise some hell and by "raise some hell" I mean blog about it because I am too chicken shit to call and complain about anything. I splurged when I ordered the internet and decided on the wireless modem over the standard modem for an additional 40 dollars (a special sign up offer from Quest that included professional installation by Julie for just 10 dollars) in the event that I ever buy a laptop I would have Internet for it too.
I am not sure if the wireless connection I have is available to the public or how I would even access my connection from another computer. But I don't care about those things. I have the Internet now.
I was late for work because the installation took so long. I decided to take a short cut through the neighborhood because the traffic pulling out of the condo was so bad.
At the stop light next to my favorite restaurant I noticed that the truck was driving strange and I heard a funny sound coming from the truck that meant I had a flat. I stopped the truck and pulled into the driveway. I got of the truck and noticed right away that my driver side rear tire was completely shredded.
Pissed, I called work to tell them I was going to be late and then I called Card Shark for a ride because he works nearby. Card Shark is going out of town later that day so he would not be able to help me fix the flat or give me a ride back to the truck.
After work I called Married Guy, because Married Guy loves to fix problems. Married Guy picked me up from work and the combined efforts of Married Guy and me resulted in the replacing the flat tire with my spare.
If not for Married Guy I would have struggled finding the spot where I had to insert the tire iron to lower the spare tire down from its resting spot under my truck bed. I was able to loosen the tire bolts that the much bigger (and ostensibly) stronger married guy could not. I also managed to get the jack secured in the proper area so we could take off the tire and I knew which direction you loaded the tire on. So I was helpful to the situation.
(Disclaimer: Married Guy will insist that he "loosened those bolts for me.")
7 comments:
"I hope I did not get charged for them other wise I will have to raise some hell and by raise some hell I mean blog about it because I am too chicken shit to call and complain about anything."
Reluctantly genuine at its best :)
You can't say you needed help with the tire-fixin'. It's anti-mantastic. Go back and add something more manly to that story. Did you kick Married Guy's ass afterwards? Were there any strippers waiting in the truck?
:)
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VhDRVKDcXQo
Dear lucky
I think perhaps you misread the story I just told. Or perhaps i was unable to communicate the difficulty of changing a truck tire versus the change of tire on a car.
No. that;s not possible. I know I discussed the near impossibilty of changing a truck tire so that can't anti-mantastic
Also I did not write I was mantastic that day...or at least any more mantastic than i am normally and I am not sure I "needed" help I just got some...
quit talking about frothy vaginas - it makes me want to puke... when i'm done laughing.
How can I stop talking about frothy vaginas? I just can't!
I'm pretty sure you're not allowed to just turn off the mantastic-ness, whether you tag a blog with the word or not. If you're gonna be mantastic, you have to be mantastic all the time. It's not an action, it's a way of life.
I forgive you since I don't even know how to change a car tire, much less a truck tire, but then again, I am hardly mantastic.
We must agree to disagree about the concept of MAntasticness. it can be turned on and turned off. I think that is the whole point pf mantasticness. I amnot always mantastic but occasionally I get there.
Post a Comment