Tweet
I....think I ended a marriage.
Oh well. One more notch in the belt of evil.
Are You Sure?
SC: “I don’t need an ambulance or anything but the neighbour upstairs are being noisy”
Oh, well, good thing you stopped me right from the get go. That would have been my immediate response too you know. In the event someone has been woken up by a noisy neighbour I would normally call 911 and dispatch an ambulance to the location as soon as was humanly possible. I mean you’ve just woken up! There’s no end to the list of horrible, disfiguring injuries you could have caused yourself just by opening your eyes, yawning and shoving the cat off you. You really should allow me to dispatch medical assistance as soon as possible. I mean what if you’re not rested and there’s no trained medical professional on hand to immediately administer sedatives? What then?! You’d be groggy that’s what! GROGGY! Do you want that? Is that what you want for you and your children? Grogginess?
Don’t be a fool man! Let me call an ambulance!
A Most Perfect Name
Me: “Alright, and your first name please?”
SC: “Chastity….er…wait…….Karen. Hmm, ok, no Chastity.”
Alright….
Me: "and your last name?”
SC: “Yukon.”
…Chastity Yukon? That sounds like a….er….how do I put this politely…..right, ok, that sounds like the stage name of a….dancer. One who dances…”exotically”. Though that does beg quite a few questions. The first and foremost of which being “Nunavut has…er….gentlemen’s clubs?” and the second being “Isn’t it a bit cold for that?”. What would you even call it? The Randy Elk? The Sled Dog Saloon? Oh oh! Wait. I know!
Snowglobes.
The Quest for a Helm
I’m finding my minimalist hair length is rapidly becoming inadequate for defending my cranium from the cruel December winds. I may require some form of head covering in the near future. I am unversed in such things, as rarely do I cover my skull. What are the rules precisely? I have noticed a few individuals in recent weeks on the Skytrain that seem to be abiding by some sort of “kill it and put it on your head” approach. I fervently hope this is not the standard.
I Hate You. In The Face.
As I sit here, quivering with distain I find I must speak my mind. Speak of the single most inconsiderate, rude, obnoxious type of muskrat mongering fuckface that graces the rails of our city’s questionably fine transit system. The one type of person that I believe I honestly loath above all others and that is really saying something when you consider the vast catalog of species I have encountered over the years. Yet there is still one, one for whom the Olympic torch of my hatred burns evermore.
People who smoke on the Skytrain.
Oh what I would not give to make you swallow that which you suck on and escape without jail time. I’m sure the transit police would forgive me. I think it’s a small penance to extract for being forcibly confined in a sealed metal tube with Tarlung the Froglord over there and his many wives. Whom, I might add, actually turned on him almost as fast as everyone else when he lit up. The cacophony of muttered death threats, glares and verbal flesh being flayed off of him even by his trio of companions forced him to reconsider his actions. But rather do the smart thing and, say, extinguish it on his forehead to placate those he offended he instead decided that all that was really missing was ventilation. So he cranked open the windows.
Why thank you, Tarlung, we’re only hurdling through the December air in an laughably heated metal tube. Why I was just sitting here thinking “Gee, the pitiful heater by my feet is just barely staving off frostbite on my lower extremities, I wish it were colder so I could have them surgically removed later!”. Now I, and everyone else on the Skytrain, gets to experience the thrill of being stuck inside of a walk in restaurant freezer right next to the air vent. Awesome cakes!
This course of action proved even less popular then his original transgressions and he extinguished his mouth torch hastily before being hurried off the train a couple stops later by his angered companions. I assume, or at least hope, so that they could drag him off out of security camera range to inflict the flogging he so richly deserves.
I Am *Not* Helping You
SC: “I parked in the <parkade> and it seems to be closed.”
Me: “Ah, right. Yes, I believe that one closes at 11pm.”
SC: “No, it said 10pm.”
Wait, back up. It wasn’t even 11pm? But 10? So not only were you vividly aware it closed at 10pm, but you’re now coming back and calling me about it at quarter after 11? So you know when it closed. Yet you left your vehicle in there past that closing time anyhow. In other words you can’t even use the usual flimsy “Like omigawd I didn’t read the 47 signs saying it closes at 10pm this is totally unfair” excuse. Because you know you screwed up. I can even hear it in your voice. You know you’ve farked up and that this is a pathetic, mewing plea for assistance to try and undo the stupidity you have wrought upon yourself.
Well, good, honestly. Because that means you won’t argue with me when I tell you I can’t help you. Which, by the way, I can’t. I hope you brought a sweater.
Imaginative
Me: “Alright, what company?”
SC: “Bob’s”
Me: “Bob’s?”
SC: “Yeah, Bob’s”
Me: “Just Bob’s?”
SC: “Yeah, Bob’s Company. I'm Bob. It's my company.”
I never would have guessed.
I Don't Even Live In A Bad Neighbourhood, QQ
Almost didn’t make it this evening. The first thing I was greeted to when I left my house was a cop car blasting its siren at me and shining a spot light in my face. Luckily, I was not the droids they were looking for and they moved on and continued to canvas the street. Oh good, so I’m outside, it is dark and there is someone on the loose who is the target of a police search. Good to know. Very reassuring.
Annnnnnnd then I rounded the corner at the end of the block and there is *9* cop cars and a SWAT van and they have the entire block totally locked down while 2 other cars search with spotlights. Oh good. So I’m outside, it is dark and there is someone on the loose who requires a SWAT Team. Very reassuring.
I cautiously moved through the area until one of the patrol cars near me pulled a most amazing maneuver that would shame many a stunt driver. Pulling a full U turn at high speed through the middle of intersection and between two rather stunned drivers coming from opposite directions. It was quite impressive. He tore up the street to where the SWAT team and other units were convening, slammed on his breaks and both of them leapt out and started running. Amid many shouts as other officers hollered various things at one another. This was my sign to leave the area post haste. As I did not wish to be clipped by any errant gun fire.
After successfully fleeing and reaching my bus stop I realized I had one final obstacle to overcome this evening. The cops had the entire area, and thus the entire bus route for several blocks, completely sealed off now. There was nowhere for my bus to arrive from! Thus I was doomed to trudge through the cold and any potential crazed gunmen hiding within it to the Skytrain.
I Know What You Were Up Too
SC: “I placed an order last week…..uh….or maybe this week….uhh….I don’t remember.”
Had a few too many at Snowglobes last night, did you?
Did...I....What....
( This is an automated system that basically just robo voices a text message. But someone in the office turned their cell off and forwarded it to the office line...me )
C: “Welcome to Telus Text to Landline services! Telus Client xxx-xxx-xxxx has sent you the following message!”
O...k?
C: “No! We're going to talk about this right now Call me tonight or we are OVER. It is DONE between us! Do you understand me?! We are through and don't bother coming home! <click> Thank you for using Telus Text to Landline services! Goodbye <click>”
Did….did I just end a marriage?
Ah Ha!
I have located a toque in my closet that I did not know I possessed. Either I once purchased it long ago and forgot, or I have been visited by the Hat Fairy who has blessed me. Regardless, equipping it has granted me +15 Frost Resistance and +5 Canadianess.
Drain Bamage
Me: “Good evening, <company>”
SC: “Yeah, I’m a retired real estate consultant formerly with Visa and Amex and I own a film studio in Merrit and I’m having a problem with one of my tenants I don’t even know if he’s even there he was suppose to pay the rent for December and I don’t know if he skipped or whats going on and but I may be in foreclosure become of it.”
O….k. That was a rather large intro exposition. You know you could have warned me by prefixing it with “A long long time ago in a galaxy far far away”. But anyway, that aside I do have just a couple questions for you. First of all you do realize that Visa and Amex are credit card companies right and likely do not have much use for a real estate consultant? Second of all, Merrit has a film studio?
Me: “Alright…do you want me to leave a message for you? The office is closed at the moment.”
SC: “Oh, this is the afterhours?”
An astute observation. Seeing as its 3am I’m not sure why this surprises you.
SC: “Oh right. Ok, it’s Poppa Echo Poppa Poppa Echo Robert”
Me: “.....That’s your last name?”
SC: “Yeah.”
Me: “And your first name?”
SC: “Z.”
Me: “Just Z.?”
SC: “Yeah.”
Me: “.......Alright”
SC: “The address is-“
Wait, hold up, the address for wh-
SC: “Niner Niner 6 Drive. Solak 5”
…..Solak? What’s Solak? Where’s Solak?
SC: “Postal code is-"
Wait wait, I don’t need a postal code yet. I think I need a Stargate address first.
Me: “What’s your phone number please?”
SC: “Oh I don’t have a phone I’m at the payphone.”
Let me get this straight. You’re at a payphone at 3am calling about your tenant not paying his rent at the film studio you own which is located in either Merrit or somewhere in the Alpha Centari system?
SC: “I can give you my email address and I can give you the phone number to the house-“
What house? The film studio? Wha-
SC: “The film studio is on the main floor and then I rent out 3 rooms upstairs to working students-“
Right, explain how do you own a film studio but not a phone again? I must have missed it the first time.
Me: “Alright, I u-“
SC: “One of the rooms is one of my cousins’s-“
Me: “Alright, but I need a phone number for the office to reach you at-“
SC: “My lawyer’s?”
Me: “Al-“
SC: “Two lawyers?”
Me: “Do you have a contact number for one of them then?”
SC: "Hang on……”
I assure you I am definitely contemplating hanging something.
SC: “…..um, I’ve got some brain damage from a plane crash and a motorcycle crash so I’ll give you my lawyers names”
Thank you for confirming the working theory I had going. Also, even with brain damage, that sentence makes no sense. I have brain damage so I’ll give you my lawyer’s name?
SC: “Then you can look them up in the Yellow Pages if you get a chance.”
…..you want me to find the phone numbers for your lawyers? That’s some rather extensive damage you have there. Did you hit the plane with the motorcycle by chance?
SC: “You can bill me at the TD Bank place-“
Wha? Bill you for what? How? What the....right, ok, dude, look….
Me: “I’m afraid I need some sort of contact number to leave a message for you for the office”
SC: “Do you want my Mastercard number?”
You’re a looney.
Me: “No, I just need a phone number”
SC: “Ok, Georga Foxtrot”
Me: “….right, but do you have a contact number?”
SC: “No, but his company is Lake’s White-“
Me: “Alright but I need a contact number”
SC: “I don’t have my laptop with me, I’m on vacation right now.”
Yeah, part of you is on vacation elsewhere alright. I’ll give you that.
Me: “Alright, but I will still need some sort of contact number-“
SC: “Do you want me to call information and get back to you?”
….you want to call information to get your own number? Is part of the plane still lodged in your skull by chance?
SC: “Just hang on a sec I’ll give you my other lawyer. Can you write down Lakeswine Sport. 13th St-“
Me: “I’m afraid I need a contact number-“
SC: “Don’t interrupt me.”
Don’t act like a lunatic.
Me: “I don’t need any of this information. All I need is a contact number in order to leave a message for you.”
SC: “Ok thanks, I’m not being um, I’m not normally so…what’s the word. Bellicose? I just had some heart problems and it’s not, it’s just that um that I heart surgery Sept 7th and-“
I don’t care! None of this matters! Its beyond me why you even think any of this matters or why I should care! Also, fuck you and your Word A Day calendar!
Me: “Alright, look, all I need is a contact number for you in order to leave a message.”
SC: “Oh, ok. It’s xxx-xxx-xxxx”
…..<twitch>…..bravo. The Olympic torch of my hatred has actually been passed on to a new runner.
annnd rest....for now. Maybe more later. The suffering was deep this week.
Are You Sure?
SC: “I don’t need an ambulance or anything but the neighbour upstairs are being noisy”
Oh, well, good thing you stopped me right from the get go. That would have been my immediate response too you know. In the event someone has been woken up by a noisy neighbour I would normally call 911 and dispatch an ambulance to the location as soon as was humanly possible. I mean you’ve just woken up! There’s no end to the list of horrible, disfiguring injuries you could have caused yourself just by opening your eyes, yawning and shoving the cat off you. You really should allow me to dispatch medical assistance as soon as possible. I mean what if you’re not rested and there’s no trained medical professional on hand to immediately administer sedatives? What then?! You’d be groggy that’s what! GROGGY! Do you want that? Is that what you want for you and your children? Grogginess?
Don’t be a fool man! Let me call an ambulance!
A Most Perfect Name
Me: “Alright, and your first name please?”
SC: “Chastity….er…wait…….Karen. Hmm, ok, no Chastity.”
Alright….
Me: "and your last name?”
SC: “Yukon.”
…Chastity Yukon? That sounds like a….er….how do I put this politely…..right, ok, that sounds like the stage name of a….dancer. One who dances…”exotically”. Though that does beg quite a few questions. The first and foremost of which being “Nunavut has…er….gentlemen’s clubs?” and the second being “Isn’t it a bit cold for that?”. What would you even call it? The Randy Elk? The Sled Dog Saloon? Oh oh! Wait. I know!
Snowglobes.
The Quest for a Helm
I’m finding my minimalist hair length is rapidly becoming inadequate for defending my cranium from the cruel December winds. I may require some form of head covering in the near future. I am unversed in such things, as rarely do I cover my skull. What are the rules precisely? I have noticed a few individuals in recent weeks on the Skytrain that seem to be abiding by some sort of “kill it and put it on your head” approach. I fervently hope this is not the standard.
I Hate You. In The Face.
As I sit here, quivering with distain I find I must speak my mind. Speak of the single most inconsiderate, rude, obnoxious type of muskrat mongering fuckface that graces the rails of our city’s questionably fine transit system. The one type of person that I believe I honestly loath above all others and that is really saying something when you consider the vast catalog of species I have encountered over the years. Yet there is still one, one for whom the Olympic torch of my hatred burns evermore.
People who smoke on the Skytrain.
Oh what I would not give to make you swallow that which you suck on and escape without jail time. I’m sure the transit police would forgive me. I think it’s a small penance to extract for being forcibly confined in a sealed metal tube with Tarlung the Froglord over there and his many wives. Whom, I might add, actually turned on him almost as fast as everyone else when he lit up. The cacophony of muttered death threats, glares and verbal flesh being flayed off of him even by his trio of companions forced him to reconsider his actions. But rather do the smart thing and, say, extinguish it on his forehead to placate those he offended he instead decided that all that was really missing was ventilation. So he cranked open the windows.
Why thank you, Tarlung, we’re only hurdling through the December air in an laughably heated metal tube. Why I was just sitting here thinking “Gee, the pitiful heater by my feet is just barely staving off frostbite on my lower extremities, I wish it were colder so I could have them surgically removed later!”. Now I, and everyone else on the Skytrain, gets to experience the thrill of being stuck inside of a walk in restaurant freezer right next to the air vent. Awesome cakes!
This course of action proved even less popular then his original transgressions and he extinguished his mouth torch hastily before being hurried off the train a couple stops later by his angered companions. I assume, or at least hope, so that they could drag him off out of security camera range to inflict the flogging he so richly deserves.
I Am *Not* Helping You
SC: “I parked in the <parkade> and it seems to be closed.”
Me: “Ah, right. Yes, I believe that one closes at 11pm.”
SC: “No, it said 10pm.”
Wait, back up. It wasn’t even 11pm? But 10? So not only were you vividly aware it closed at 10pm, but you’re now coming back and calling me about it at quarter after 11? So you know when it closed. Yet you left your vehicle in there past that closing time anyhow. In other words you can’t even use the usual flimsy “Like omigawd I didn’t read the 47 signs saying it closes at 10pm this is totally unfair” excuse. Because you know you screwed up. I can even hear it in your voice. You know you’ve farked up and that this is a pathetic, mewing plea for assistance to try and undo the stupidity you have wrought upon yourself.
Well, good, honestly. Because that means you won’t argue with me when I tell you I can’t help you. Which, by the way, I can’t. I hope you brought a sweater.
Imaginative
Me: “Alright, what company?”
SC: “Bob’s”
Me: “Bob’s?”
SC: “Yeah, Bob’s”
Me: “Just Bob’s?”
SC: “Yeah, Bob’s Company. I'm Bob. It's my company.”
I never would have guessed.
I Don't Even Live In A Bad Neighbourhood, QQ
Almost didn’t make it this evening. The first thing I was greeted to when I left my house was a cop car blasting its siren at me and shining a spot light in my face. Luckily, I was not the droids they were looking for and they moved on and continued to canvas the street. Oh good, so I’m outside, it is dark and there is someone on the loose who is the target of a police search. Good to know. Very reassuring.
Annnnnnnd then I rounded the corner at the end of the block and there is *9* cop cars and a SWAT van and they have the entire block totally locked down while 2 other cars search with spotlights. Oh good. So I’m outside, it is dark and there is someone on the loose who requires a SWAT Team. Very reassuring.
I cautiously moved through the area until one of the patrol cars near me pulled a most amazing maneuver that would shame many a stunt driver. Pulling a full U turn at high speed through the middle of intersection and between two rather stunned drivers coming from opposite directions. It was quite impressive. He tore up the street to where the SWAT team and other units were convening, slammed on his breaks and both of them leapt out and started running. Amid many shouts as other officers hollered various things at one another. This was my sign to leave the area post haste. As I did not wish to be clipped by any errant gun fire.
After successfully fleeing and reaching my bus stop I realized I had one final obstacle to overcome this evening. The cops had the entire area, and thus the entire bus route for several blocks, completely sealed off now. There was nowhere for my bus to arrive from! Thus I was doomed to trudge through the cold and any potential crazed gunmen hiding within it to the Skytrain.
I Know What You Were Up Too
SC: “I placed an order last week…..uh….or maybe this week….uhh….I don’t remember.”
Had a few too many at Snowglobes last night, did you?
Did...I....What....
( This is an automated system that basically just robo voices a text message. But someone in the office turned their cell off and forwarded it to the office line...me )
C: “Welcome to Telus Text to Landline services! Telus Client xxx-xxx-xxxx has sent you the following message!”
O...k?
C: “No! We're going to talk about this right now Call me tonight or we are OVER. It is DONE between us! Do you understand me?! We are through and don't bother coming home! <click> Thank you for using Telus Text to Landline services! Goodbye <click>”
Did….did I just end a marriage?
Ah Ha!
I have located a toque in my closet that I did not know I possessed. Either I once purchased it long ago and forgot, or I have been visited by the Hat Fairy who has blessed me. Regardless, equipping it has granted me +15 Frost Resistance and +5 Canadianess.
Drain Bamage
Me: “Good evening, <company>”
SC: “Yeah, I’m a retired real estate consultant formerly with Visa and Amex and I own a film studio in Merrit and I’m having a problem with one of my tenants I don’t even know if he’s even there he was suppose to pay the rent for December and I don’t know if he skipped or whats going on and but I may be in foreclosure become of it.”
O….k. That was a rather large intro exposition. You know you could have warned me by prefixing it with “A long long time ago in a galaxy far far away”. But anyway, that aside I do have just a couple questions for you. First of all you do realize that Visa and Amex are credit card companies right and likely do not have much use for a real estate consultant? Second of all, Merrit has a film studio?
Me: “Alright…do you want me to leave a message for you? The office is closed at the moment.”
SC: “Oh, this is the afterhours?”
An astute observation. Seeing as its 3am I’m not sure why this surprises you.
SC: “Oh right. Ok, it’s Poppa Echo Poppa Poppa Echo Robert”
Me: “.....That’s your last name?”
SC: “Yeah.”
Me: “And your first name?”
SC: “Z.”
Me: “Just Z.?”
SC: “Yeah.”
Me: “.......Alright”
SC: “The address is-“
Wait, hold up, the address for wh-
SC: “Niner Niner 6 Drive. Solak 5”
…..Solak? What’s Solak? Where’s Solak?
SC: “Postal code is-"
Wait wait, I don’t need a postal code yet. I think I need a Stargate address first.
Me: “What’s your phone number please?”
SC: “Oh I don’t have a phone I’m at the payphone.”
Let me get this straight. You’re at a payphone at 3am calling about your tenant not paying his rent at the film studio you own which is located in either Merrit or somewhere in the Alpha Centari system?
SC: “I can give you my email address and I can give you the phone number to the house-“
What house? The film studio? Wha-
SC: “The film studio is on the main floor and then I rent out 3 rooms upstairs to working students-“
Right, explain how do you own a film studio but not a phone again? I must have missed it the first time.
Me: “Alright, I u-“
SC: “One of the rooms is one of my cousins’s-“
Me: “Alright, but I need a phone number for the office to reach you at-“
SC: “My lawyer’s?”
Me: “Al-“
SC: “Two lawyers?”
Me: “Do you have a contact number for one of them then?”
SC: "Hang on……”
I assure you I am definitely contemplating hanging something.
SC: “…..um, I’ve got some brain damage from a plane crash and a motorcycle crash so I’ll give you my lawyers names”
Thank you for confirming the working theory I had going. Also, even with brain damage, that sentence makes no sense. I have brain damage so I’ll give you my lawyer’s name?
SC: “Then you can look them up in the Yellow Pages if you get a chance.”
…..you want me to find the phone numbers for your lawyers? That’s some rather extensive damage you have there. Did you hit the plane with the motorcycle by chance?
SC: “You can bill me at the TD Bank place-“
Wha? Bill you for what? How? What the....right, ok, dude, look….
Me: “I’m afraid I need some sort of contact number to leave a message for you for the office”
SC: “Do you want my Mastercard number?”
You’re a looney.
Me: “No, I just need a phone number”
SC: “Ok, Georga Foxtrot”
Me: “….right, but do you have a contact number?”
SC: “No, but his company is Lake’s White-“
Me: “Alright but I need a contact number”
SC: “I don’t have my laptop with me, I’m on vacation right now.”
Yeah, part of you is on vacation elsewhere alright. I’ll give you that.
Me: “Alright, but I will still need some sort of contact number-“
SC: “Do you want me to call information and get back to you?”
….you want to call information to get your own number? Is part of the plane still lodged in your skull by chance?
SC: “Just hang on a sec I’ll give you my other lawyer. Can you write down Lakeswine Sport. 13th St-“
Me: “I’m afraid I need a contact number-“
SC: “Don’t interrupt me.”
Don’t act like a lunatic.
Me: “I don’t need any of this information. All I need is a contact number in order to leave a message for you.”
SC: “Ok thanks, I’m not being um, I’m not normally so…what’s the word. Bellicose? I just had some heart problems and it’s not, it’s just that um that I heart surgery Sept 7th and-“
I don’t care! None of this matters! Its beyond me why you even think any of this matters or why I should care! Also, fuck you and your Word A Day calendar!
Me: “Alright, look, all I need is a contact number for you in order to leave a message.”
SC: “Oh, ok. It’s xxx-xxx-xxxx”
…..<twitch>…..bravo. The Olympic torch of my hatred has actually been passed on to a new runner.
annnd rest....for now. Maybe more later. The suffering was deep this week.
. Carry on.
Comment