THE TOILET SEAT
REVOLUTION
by
Anthonystjoseph
So I had to
come out of my skin today and give another show. And by show, I mean strap on my DMX and tell another
mother screwer what his position on this planet was and how it related to
mine. You heard it here first! So I am out collecting money from my clients
in order to again, get to my two comma goal, 1,(comma)000,(comma)000. I am waiting for one homeowner to call me to
come by and pick up a four thousand dollar check and I realize that my voice
mail keeps going off with messages. The
first time it happened I just figured it was a signal problem or maybe I was
just starting a call or whatever but I didn’t think about it. Then I realized that my phone, which rings as
constantly as Anita rang her bell, was not ringing as often as usual. So I called my drunk friend in Baltimore, who
by the way, is always drunk, to have her call me back and see if my phone was
ringing and it was not ringing. She’s
generally too drunk to read my blogs or to hung over to gather the strength to
focus on them so I don’t have to worry about her seeing this. We just got in touch with each other after
years of losing track of each other and it’s a shame that she’s still caught up
in that getting drunk at the club. The problem
is that the club has moved to her house and is open twenty four seven. But if she does read this then it’s all good
because we were so close in the Army and she was like my little sister and now
she’s a hopeless drunk so anything I can do to help is my job. Maybe she’ll get pissed and drink some
coffee.
Back to me and me having to come out of my
skin, so I call Verizon and have to tell four different computer animated
voices my information and last four digits of my social security number while I
listen to the computer voices repeat themselves over and over again for my
benefit as they continue to explain themselves to me. For the record, I hate and refuse to talk to
any computer and just push zero’s until a voice comes on that can actually take
in oxygen and have a true thought. I
WILL NEVER TALK TO A COMPUTER! Voice
activated my ass. So of course this
apprehension of mine to talk to myself over the phone sets the tone for the next
ten minutes. Finally a woman comes on
the line and thanks me for calling Verizon…
Phuck you! She then asks me for
the last four digits of my social security number for ‘security reasons’. SURE!
I’m standing in a line in a grocery store talking on a cell phone which
can be scanned with any Radio Shack less-than-a-hundred-dollar scanner… SURE!
For my security, let me tell YOU my LAST FOUR! The female dog representing herself as a
Verizon customer service representative then realized I had a problem with
repeating my information since I told her, “WHY DO YOU ASK ME FOR MY LAST FOUR
WHEN I JUST GAVE IT TO THE LAAAASSSST FOOOUUUUUUUURRRRR COMPUTERS!!!!” I’m not well at this point and the people in
line are luckily focused on the drooling senior citizen who is cutting in front
of the line while pretending to have alzhiemers. So the girl on the other end of the phone who
works at some Verizon call center decides to get her swerve on. By swerve I mean neck swerve. Some of my sisters are so good at swiveling
their neck that you can hear that thang swiveling over the phone. So she decides to go the ‘plucking my nerves’
route and provoke me by asking me for my first and last name and then says, “Is
that with an ‘son’ or an ‘sen’… ‘Get my kids home, get my kids HOME…’ Then she asks me for my mailing address with
the zip code ‘included’… This wouldn’t be so bad if my phone number
didn’t pull up all this information and I hadn’t verified it with the first
four computers that I talked to in order to get to her neck swiveling
*&^$%#**()(^%$*! I finally cut her
off when she said something about maiden name and just told her, “I NEED MY
PHONE TO RING!” She informed me that I
would have to call her from another number and she could do some check on my
phone then… Whatever… I hung up on her and went to my car and
decided to call my client and ask him if he called and deal with Verizon and
their raggedy phones later. He hadn’t
called.
Then the Lord said, “Let there be light.”
A Verizon Wireless store was right in front of me on the other side of the
parking lot. In my haste to get my phone
fixed and get back to my money I almost ran over the drooling senior citizen with
the faux alzhiemers who was getting into his car to drive home (Jesus take the
wheel). I walk into the Verizon store
and decide to have some ‘return-the-favor’ soup. That’s where they gave me a bad day so I returned-the-favor.
The first thing I do when I walk in the
door is say to the greeter in a loud voice so all the ‘customers’ can hear me is,
“CAN YOU GUYS MAKE A PHONE THAT WORKS!” Clearly
I need JESUS! I went through four of
Verizon’s ‘Chocolate’ phones that were reminiscent of the type of flawless
technology that brought us the Ford Pinto, and now I have this LG which tends
to act like a human female that cycles and gets PMS. I guess it would be an alien female though
because its cycle is more than once a month.
The clerk tries to cut me and my ‘Madea’ moment off and just ask my name
and then when I go on he tries to cut me off again and asked my last name. I pause and skull phuck him for a second
letting him know this is no ordinary game and he best be cool and then give him
my last name as he tells me to have a ‘look around’ while he gets someone to
help me. I tell him and the whole store
that I don’t need to look around, I NEED MY PHONE TO RING! Yeah I’m special… You would think since they cut your hair off
in jail here in Colorado that I would chill out and keep my DMX under wraps,
but not me. My special like DMX’s special is uncontrollable. I blame it all on God because he made
me. It’s my story and I’m sticking to
IT! So this guy standing next to the
snippy greeter takes me to the tech counter and starts fiddling with my
phone. I tell him to call it from the
counter phone and so he does and it doesn’t ring. He fiddles and fiddles and fusses and fusses
and I squirm and squirm. All I can think
about is missing my money calls. Here
comes the climax.
The on hand technical support ‘piece of
flesh’ standing in front of me for Verizon turns my phone off and then turns it
back on and it works, it rings. The same
thing I told my friend in New York to do to on his phone the other day but
forgot in my squirming over the potential loss of the money calls. I retrieve my phone and turn to walk out the
store and that’s when he did it. You
know that way somebody can tell you ‘thank you’ but it’s clearly a ‘phuck you’. Yeah! Um
huh… He said to the back of my head,
“YOU’RE WELCOME!” OMG! WTF! I
guess he didn’t get the MEMO! They got
my poster up in some cities! Ya’ll think
I’m kidding on this whole DMX thang… I
turned as he said it and was basically standing in the center of the store at
this point and said to him in my loud commanding voice that stopped everyone in
the store in their tracks as everyone turned to look at me and said, “If you
sold phones that worked I WOULD BE WELCOME!”
(My phone is three months old and the last four phones before that all
malfunctioned and had to be replaced). He
wasn’t ready for the response, or the nature of my response; as in him and I
occupying a stage with all these people watching mouth agape. He let out another little squeaky, “you’re
welcome”. I repeated myself and the lack
of any welcome feelings on my part and then told him across the room, “Do WE
NEED TO DO MORE! Because we CAN!” He lost.
Why did he lose? Because
everybody’s playing a game. I am not
playing games… Don’t have me talk to
four different computers like I have time to waste and then have me repeat
myself over your glorified walkie talkie in order to get your Made in China
phone to work properly. My phone cost
three hundred dollars so it should provide more than three months service
without malfunctioning.
Since I’m talking about malfunctioning
systems I would like to bring up the toilet seat and the proper etiquette
surrounding it! The ‘all about you’
party is over females. From this point
on I am the chairman and founder of the Revolution de Toilet Seat. I have
personally trained the females in my family including my own mother that toilet
seats shall remain up when not in use and now it’s time for you to train your females. The men in my office are so whipped that they put the toilet seat
down in the men’s restroom. WTF! I have to PEE! I do not have time to bend down and touch
some nasty toilet seat that has probably been pissed on because someone left it
down, or should I say put it down because they were taught to do so by some
selfish female. Probably their
MAMA! Train yours ~ I trained MINE!
All kidding aside, I would like to present
my argument for the whole world to learn the proper and obviously correct way
to leave a toilet seat when finished.
First off, it is obviously a lot more hygienic to leave the seat
UP. If the seat is up then the air in
the toilet bowl will be fresh and not contribute to the growth of bacteria and
germs. Secondly, when the seat is down
it allows for the possibility of flies to land on the seat and take a shit
right where you’re going to lay your raw behind when eliminating your daily
intake. Did you know that every time a
fly lands they take a dump. Leave the
seat up BABIES! It’s just nasty to leave
it down. And women, we let you vote so
now let us vote ~ the seat stays up. You
had your time! Thank you! You’re Welcome! They said I would make a good leader.
By
Anthonystjoseph
All works copyrighted
and protected by law
No comments:
Post a Comment