Tag Archives: consumerism

Tomorrow’s post, today!

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Don’t start reading this until Thursday. It’s your own fault if you have nothing new to read on Thursday because you read this today.

It was extra, extra foolish to start a Content Challenge in a month when I have to move. I’ll say that much.

Saab called to say they have found me a windshield. This is shocking, since they stopped making this model. It turns out that some darling in the parts department, after being threatened by legal, decided to actually find out which Subaru model will fit as a replacement. So they went ahead and ordered it, and I guess the damn idiots are going to fix it for me. This is after many months of phone calls where the dealer’s parts person disavowed the knowledge that Subarus even existed, and the service manager swore up and down that the dealer would not handle glass anyway. Clearly, the tipping point came when I screeched “I have a baby on the way,” as recorded last week. I urge you all to insert imaginary children into all your customer service disputes henceforth.

Then I spent a long time on hold with the insurance company. At one point, I wasn’t sure if I was still on hold because the music had stopped. I peed without muting the phone, thinking this would hurry things along, but it didn’t. What kind of Murphy’s Law failure is that?

How do other people do it?

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Internet pets, I have such poor stress management skills these days. No wine + no pills + not even freaking Nyquil make Hulk ill-equipped to handle paperwork or daily upset and challenge.

How dare someone want me to do work? How dare my insurance agent be out of the office? How dare my accountant send me a bill? How dare Saab continue to assert that I need a Subaru part? How dare “Kevin” at Subaru not know which part fits a Saab? OMGWTFBBQ Subaru is no longer even remotely a part of GM. I think Toyota owns those shares in Fuji Heavy Industries now. That makes the Saabaru the 2005 Tar-Baby of GM. My pappy once told me “Never buy GM.” Of course he’s also doing a gout cure he found on the internet when he doesn’t even have gout, but we trashpick advice around here as we see fit.

I told Saab to send my file to legal to get me the hell out of the lease. There was hemming and hawing, and then I can’t believe I did this, but I used the “We have a baby on the way, we can’t be expected to drive it around in a car with a broken windshield!” line. Oh, breederism. So loathsome, but apparently effective in this case because Phone Lady said “Oh! I’ll get that right over with a note then.” It doesn’t matter that the car would fail inspection, apparently I can drive it all the livelong day, but THINK OF THE CHIRREN!

Didn’t I write a book last year with a Moose? It was about this time last year, because my Media Bistro membership is expiring. IIRC. LOL. I think I was supposed to be famous by now, but we never got around to actually mailing it to the agent. That’s OK. I’ve met so many more horrible people this year. I could do a sequel in my sleep.

Hearing goes mono, hearing goes stereo. Oh…and back to mono.

You want to know about the billboard

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There are two churchs down the road that out-sloganeer each other each week. The one closest to the house says something like “Let your inner good show on the outside.” Of course I think of how the entrails of some of the Habsburg emperors were buried outside of their bodies. Or good old Saint Erasmus.

But mainly I think of how butt ugly the parasite is making me. In theory, I have the goodness of innocent infant blood inside (a prized beauty treatment for stars like Dick Cheney and Nicolette Sheridan), but the outside? Not so good. Little Davidette is giving mommy a lackluster mane and tail. Combine this with a minor illness, and I look like a zombie. A zombie with pants that can’t stay up properly because the zombie is not big enough for fat pants, but too small for her regular pants. I lurched into the car fixing place this morning and rattled “Change oil! Brains!” Then I just huddled on the floor by the counter, hissing at people until someone had to put on gloves and drag me to the customer lounge.

While in the lounge, I ate someone for starting a cell phone conversation about how annoying it was to wait in a waiting room. Survival of the fittest. This someone was even uglier than me, if that’s possible.

I got nothing, but that never stopped me before.

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I think I’ll make January into another Content Challenge. Way to start a week into the month! I’m an army of one, unless someone else wants to get in on this. I remain mildly disturbed yet titillated by all the ads for that new faux snuff film, Hostel. (Nasty stills, if you are so inclined – sort of Abu Ghraib meets Motel Hell). I read that there’s a joke about the political situation in Slovakia in the set up for luring the hapless college slobs to slaughter, but the hapless college slobs seeing the movie are like to miss it. But then I know people who staunchly believe that Czechoslovakia became Chechnya. The US government is probably avidly screening this film now that they don’t torture anyone, no how, no way, no sirree. Pissa!!!!! Just having to think of the government reminds me that the only way I got out of 2005 without a recurrence of major depression was by watching no news but The Daily Show. I like my ridiculous world affairs with built-in eyerolling so I don’t have to strain myself.

Back at my own personal chamber of horrors, Saab conceded that I could install a Subaru part, but they cannot tell me exactly which model would be appropriate. I also received another customer satisfaction survey in the mail. I am torn between peeing on it myself, or mailing them something from the litterbox. I think I’ll keep the logo blanket they sent. I can stretch it over the car to keep the snow out when the glass finally caves. cf. what Laura Ingalls Wilder Would Do.

I also had blood drawn, which I totally love. Wish they’d let me do it myself. The purpose is to see if the parasite has all appropriate chromosomes. Apparently one is supposed to assume one is at the brink of peril throughout one’s parasite hosting career. I noticed later that the receptionist seems to have put the wrong dates on the lab orders, which will likely skew the results. “Hello? You’re having a Johhny Knoxville. Your baby is also unable to locate Chechnya on a map.” Can’t wait for that call.

Hulk smash windshield, if windshield not already broken

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Saab call Hulk to say 43 other mutants get new windshield ahead of Hulk. Hulk say “why I pay payment then?” Saab say “ooga booga boo. Thank you for calling. Expect a Customer Satisfaction Survey in the mail in a few days. We depend on your valuable feedback.” Never buy Saab. Hulk think Hulk learned this in highschool when friend’s Saab missing hood for three months. But husband not listen, say Saab different now. Lies, Saab, lies.

Part 2: A quiz

If you were a cat with the personality of a PTSD-stricken ‘Nam vet, would you prefer to:

a) move to a new place and then spend time cowering in the bathroom while a week of construction takes place
b) have your owners pay rent plus mortgage for another month as you continue to bask next to a heat vent in your current abode
c) stay with your in-laws and their one-year-old grandchild during construction – at least there are piles of old magazines to hide behind
d) be smuggled into a hotel in a backpack for a few days or disguised as child with body hair issue

I bet you’ll say B, but yeah, right. Hulk not made of money. Hence site monetized and valuetized. If reading this drivel ever entertains you, please also enjoy/forgive the messages from sponsors. Otherwise, you may ignore them or read other quality internets content. Hulk commodify dumb life in half-assed manner.

Hulk have migraine. Is tumor?

The one about the customer service indignity and my related suffering that goes on in my dumb life here in America with all the paperwork and confusion and general bougie peril

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Oh damn if I aint been on the phone all day talking to people who can’t really help me. I saved a boatload by switching car insurance. I didn’t know this was possible in Massachusetts. So I told them we lived in New Hampshire. Apparently it gets cheaper to insure your car if you also insure your secret underground SCUBA lair while you’re at it. At least I am banking on the lair being underwater at some point since I had to get all that flood insurance. I did opt out of earthquake insurance even though we live on a fault line.

The parasite is gumming my lower abdomen. It’s a weird feeling, and I am envisioning one of those aquarium cleaning snails just skulking around in there. Yup, hoover that plankton, sweetie. It seemed to relish it when I yelled at the Saab customer service people for telling me they can’t possibly scare up a new windshield to replace the cracked one. I was told to put in a Subaru windshield. Seems we really got a Subaru with an enamel Liger slapped on it. I did not pick this car, let’s just say. I called the leasing agent to see if this voids the warranty, and yes, it does, but since they haven’t managed to produce a properly branded windshield in the last seven months, we are at an impasse. At least they were nice enough to fudge the last state inspection. I feel very safe, let me tell you. Must be the 4-wheel drive.

Usually I do start with strongly worded somewhat witty letters, but this time it felt right to go straight to screaming “This is unacceptable!”

Today in cats: the cat is scratching something in a fit of pique. At least she finally got off her ass and booked the movers.
Tonight in eating: a casserole dish of melted cheese, seasoned with box of wine

A day late and a dollar short: 2005 by the numbers

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Number of separate calendar days where vomiting occurred: 4

Number of times the washer and dryer were correctly delivered: 0
Number of duplicate West Elm catalogs received: 8
Amount of work billed: 3x 2004 billings
Amount actually received in 2005: ahahahahahaha
Number of gallons of non-returnable paint purchased: 9
Number of gallons actually needed: 4
Damn you: Glidden.com paint calculator that Mr. H made me use. I should have trusted my street math.
Weight gained: 6 pounds
Bad haircuts: 1
Dead hard drives: 1
Cracked windshields: 1
Amount the usage of “gift” as a verb annoyed me: immeasurable
Impulse real estate purchases: 1
Parasite infestations: 1
Albums purchased from iTunes Music Store: only 15!
Countries visited: France, illness Spain, click Baltimore
Existentialism: medium
Swearing: damn, a damn lot

**2006 Bonus Preview:**
Boxes of wine purchased: 1
Washers and dryers correctly delivered: 0
Boston terriers who live at my new hovel: 1
This is boring me: 72%

DJ SSpace JaMM

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I went for walkies, and I was not disappointed, despite the burden of physical activity. I saw police action, the super obese, an albino, incomprehensible business cards, and teen satanists. Not bad for an hour.

While I was getting my hair blown out on Thursday, the parasite said mean things about nearly everyone else in the salon. Then it wanted a croissant. I can’t take my inner monologue anywhere.

In other leaving the house news, the other day, I went to the grocery store and ran into ALEX, ALEX, DAMMIT, and his loathsome sock of a mother. This time ALEX was pretending to be a fire engine. “Reeeeoooooooooo!” I stuck out my leg and blocked him from passing me, and I asked “Do you see anyone else in here acting like this?” The man stocking bulk mayonaise said “YEAH, DO YOU?” ALEX was stymied for a second. But the local retarded fellow who thinks he is also a fire engine came in, and my argument quickly took on water. There is nothing to do but stop eating groceries.

Not if you were the last superstore on Earth

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Take the No Wal-Mart Holiday Shopping Pledge. I know this will be easy for most of you, since there is no way in hell you shop there anyway. And I always like feeling effective while not changing my habits at all. That rules!

Although the other day, I was at the bank, and I needed to pick up milk, and there was a Wal-Mart right there, and I thought “Hmm.” But then I slammed my face into the steering wheel to remind myself that we don’t shop at Wal-Mart in our family. Bad! NO BARK! So I went home and milked the neighbor’s cow instead. Or maybe it was actually Drunk Upstairs Cheryl. I’m not sure, but I milked something. Luckily, I drink soy milk. My inner obesity has requested that I switch to cream laced with chocolate syrup, but there are some things up with we cannot put.

A harrowing experience at the grocery store

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Today I went to the store, and there I spied an unmannerly child running around licking all the apples. Imagine the odds of finding a child beyond parental control at the grocery store.

ALEX, ALEX, DAMMIT! asked me where the carrots were, so I told him to go stand in the frozen foods cooler and wait for the next delivery. His mother started to chew me out, but then she realized she couldn’t hear him from in there. I nodded cordially and pushed my cart away. I wonder if he’ll ever get out?

This was all nearly as repulsive as the time I saw a mother spooning mints from a restaurant lobby communal bowl directly into her child’s mouth before replacing the spoon in the bowl. There’s a moral in here somewhere. Perhaps it will occur to me after a restorative nap and a fall down the stairs.