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Conorama

Expounding on Nothing

Impartial Observer

 
And then those folks at Verizon totally mock you when at the end of every frustrating conversation they say: "It is my goal to provide you with outstanding customer service. Have I done that today?" I'm speechless.

 
Update on Verizon: They lied. Now they will not have my e-mail account restored until Monday at the earliest. Idiots.

 
Hey Verizon, can you hear me now? Yes, good. YOU SUCK.

 
BUMPER STICKER OF THE DAY: "Behind every successful man is an exhausted woman".

 
Okay, so I had to request Verizon to transfer my DSL service from my second phone line to my first phone line TWICE (they mysteriously lost the first order, and have absolutely no record of anything). Then, after they finally do it, I find out that they have not transferred my service, they CANCELLED it, and re-assigned me a new, flippin' ridiculous e-mail address without telling me, and which I cannot access because I don't have a password!!!!!!!!!!!!

I HATE VERIZON!!!!!!!!!!!

Now it'll be 48 hours before they can restore my old e-mail address, and if they actually do it like they are supposed to, it will be a freakin' MIRACLE. Dumbasses!!!!!

 
Ouch. Somehow this morning I managed to lose my grip on the curling iron. Fortunately it was tightly clamped onto my bangs and didn't fall on my bare foot, however, it did dangle just long enough on the bridge of my nose to cause minor damage. I look like I got a sunburn on my nose, and I feel like I have a small torch focused and determined to cause mild but irritating pain. Again, ouch.

 
Had to get up again in the middle of the night and wrestle with the foil crunching-stealing-brazenly confident rodent thief. Need a pellet gun immediately and sharp-shooting lessons.

 
All is excellent. Mr. B's obsession with teapots is subsiding slowly, with only a few minor infractions. C-note has completed an excellent essay on the positive and possibly negative effects of President Lincoln on the Civil War. The bathroom sinks remain impossibly clogged due to Mr. B's infatuation with stuffing toilet paper in to the drains, however, our big ass television delivers excellent basketball coverage. Mr. B insists upon sleeping with toy persons that have lost their hair at his expense, but brought a new friend home in the name of "Kandarooooooo". He has an empty pouch.

 
RANDOM NOTE: If and when I ever get married again, I'm going to honeymoon in Scotland. Keep that in mind.

 
Today's theivery report: Mr. B has stolen my Banana Republic card.

 
My life is full of Nancys: Nancy the sister, Nancy the sister-in-law, Nancy the life-long friend, Nancy the exercise partner, Nancy the mother of C-note's buddy Hud, Nancy the Idaho cousin's wife, Nancy the Surya friend from back East, and Nancy the friend from Canada also known as Nancypants. Curious, eh?

 
BUMPER STICKER OF THE DAY: "Don't believe everything you think".

 
At 3:45 AM I was jolted awake to the sounds of someone/something rustling around inside our house. Holy Shit! It's just me and Mr. B, and although he has very sharp fangs, I doubted that I could wake him up and convince him to use them appropriately. I managed to turn the lights on as I went toward the noise, terrified, with the phone in my hand to call 911. I only got past the hallway when of course I had to use the toilet, as this incident literally scared the pee out of me. Back to the noise, I determined that it was coming from the laundry room. I peeked slowly around the corner, and didn't see anyone/anything large enough to be a human intruder, as the noise continued. It was the crunching and tearing of foil, I guessed, and it seemed to be coming from the trash bin. Evidence mounted as I noticed a piece of foil next to my right foot under the oven. While sitting atop the counter for safety,I began throwing things at the bin, hoping to scare that little rat shit out of it's hiding place, but it wouldn't budge. After 30 minutes of maneuvering (with a broom as my weapon) I managed to get a pathway through the dirty laundry, open the back door, and toss out the trash bin. Ahhhhh, mission accomplished, now I can relax. I left the hall light on just for good measure.

Two minutes later, back in bed, the crunching started up again. Holy Shit! Our security is still compromised. Damn, I get up and follow the noise to that piece of foil that had been next to my right foot for a half hour. That varmit wasn't in the trash bin at all, but hiding in the wall trying to pull a big piece of foil through a very small opening. I commenced a tug of war with the anonymous thief, and finally won the chicken coated tin foil. I'm currently considering all available execution methods, so any and all suggestions would be appreciated.