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Gilbert & Sullivan & A Strap-on ( Brace yourself, kids )
This won't be pretty. >.>
I May Finally Have Snapped
A-hem.
I am the very image of a modern major CSR.
I’d really love to help you but I fear you’ve pushed me way too far.
I know it’s almost midnight and you’re calling for a ticket.
But I’m seriously about to tell just where you can go and stick it.
I’m very well acquainted too with matters creditorial
Your card is not complex, please let me give you a tutorial
Just pick the damn thing up and tell me what the little numbers are
It’s really not that hard, and if you grasp it we’ll get rather far
I’m very good at postal codes, addresses and the telephone
So listen carefully when I read them back to you in pleasant tone
If you can’t really hear me right it’s really through no fault of mine
It’s probably because it’s midnight and you’re approximately a hundred and nine.
I know our ticket packages and what you get for how much dough
So tell me what you want, and in your direction chances I will throw
But our tickets are sequentially, there’s no random tickets you can claim
You’re a twit for even asking since your odds would still be just the same.
Now the time has come for you to get the hell off of my line.
I’d love to stay and chat but those behind you would begin to whine.
I’ve got to get back to my calls and you’ve got to stumble back to the bar.
For I’m the very image of a modern major CSR.
<cough>
Oh Yeah, Snapped.
Me: “Alright, thank you for calling and your tickets-“
SC: “Oh, I want to do 6 more orders.”
Me: “I’m sorry, 6?”
SC: “Yes, one for each of my grand children.”
…the English language does not possess a word that can possibly contain all of my loathing and sheer willing of misfortune upon your person at this very moment. So I will have to invent one myself. I shall call it Bilescath and you cannot possibly fathom just how much of it I am directing towards you right this instance.
Injuction
Me: “Thank you for calling”
SC: “Oh, you’re very welcome”
I am now legally required to advice you that we here at <company> have a zero tolerance policy towards coyness. Per company policy, I must now cancel your order and revoke your lottery tickets. Also, per policy, a member of our legal team should arrive at your home in the next 3-5 business days to serve you with an official notice that you are, in fact, not funny. Should you wish to dispute this, you will have 1 week to file the appropriate documents with your local city hall. At which point a formal trial will be scheduled where you may have your sense of humour, such as it is, judged by a jury of your peers. You will be given 3 sessions across 3 days to present any and all material you believe is “funny”. The province of British Columbia requires a minimum of at least 4 jurors achieving a level of laughter by which they have trouble breathing, tear up or lose momentary control of their bowels for you to maintain your status as “humourous”.
However, at any point during your allotted time a juror expresses a desire to punch you in the head or neck region, the government of Canada will automatically file a 3 year injunction against you preventing you from trying to employ “humour” until at least 2013. At which point you may file for the reinstatement of your “humourous” status.
You Have Got To Be Kidding Me
SC: “I don’t know whether I need a left or a right door”
Ah yes…left and right. We had some trouble with that last week too, didn’t we? I know, they are difficult concepts. But rest assured my good man, it is not really that complicated. Anyone can learn. We can help. Billy Mayes can help.
Me: “The product is labeled according to what side the hinges are on when you are outside looking at the door.”
SC: “Well if I’m outside, they’re on the left.”
Me: “Than you need a left door.”
SC: “Wait, I’m still not getting’ this. When I’m outside, the hinges are on the left. But when I go back inside. They’re on the right.”
Except you. We can’t help you. Even Billy Mayes would spit on you. Just forget it. Save your money and our sanity. Please. Because I can guarantee you right this moment that if you purchase our productn, you will be calling us within 5 minutes of opening the box. Which will be approximately 10 minutes before you end up having to call 911 because you’ve gotten the plastic bag the screws came in over your head somehow and can’t free yourself. In fact, you really should just forget this all together or else the last moments of your life are liable to end up being a 911 recording of “Hmhmph! MMMMFPHAH! MHMMF! MHm….mhm….mf…..hmf….<thud>”.
Sadly, Yes
C: “Do you guys sell tickets 24/7?”
Me: “Yes we do.”
C: “Wow, do you really get a lot of calls at night?”
Oh you poor, naïve man. I actually kind of envy you. You have not stared into the eyes of the soulless drudges that call at all hours. Writhing in the grip of Gamblor’s neon claws. You do not yet know just how far we have sunk as a species. But I do, my boy, I do.
OH FOR F-
SC: “Yeah I have a question. I’m looking at the hinges from the inside and-“
……ok seriously, what the hell, it hasn’t even been 30 minutes. This isn’t even the same guy.
Me: “They're set up so its whatever side the hinges are on when you’re looking from the outside.”
SC: “Oooh, you see it doesn’t say that. It should say that somewhere.”
IT SAYS SO RIGHT ON THE GOD DAMN BOX AND IN THE INSTRUCTION MANUAL. THE ONE YOU ARE HOLDING. IT EVEN HAS PICTURES, MAN! You like pictures don't you?! Of course you fucking do. My only question is how the hell did you get it to the cash register without even looking at it?!
......
There are many thoughts I do not wish to have running through my mind as I am riding the Skytrain. These are pretty basic things such as “Is…is that man touching himself?” or “Oh god, is that seat wet?”. You know, practical things you need to be on the lookout for while riding public transit.
I did not, however, expect the thought “Did a biker with a nail gun just walk past me?” to cross my mind. Also, the answer to the question was yes. I do not know why he had a nailgun at 11pm on the Skytrain, and I do not wish to know why for asking the question would likely get said nailgun applied to me. However, he did manage to ride all the way to Broadway without incident. So I can only assume whomever owes him money does not ride transit but does live within the vicinity of Broadway Station.
Yes!
Me: “Alright, would you like anything else?”
SC: “Yes, I w-no! No! That’s ok. That’s everything.”
Yes! We wants it! No! no, cants afford it. We cants! But we wants it! No! Filthy operators, they keeps it from us. Demand we gives them shinies! No! No we cants….but soon we will have it! Yes!
The Odds
SC: “Are they drawn electronically, or are they all put in a barrel? Cus if it’s a barrel you get more chances if you have more tickets. But if its electronic you don’t.”
If I could just interrupt you for a moment: But what colour is the sky in your world? It doesn’t matter what drawing method is use. Nor does it matter what sequence the ticket numbers are in. There is no amount of wishful thinking, strange ritual, “lucky” items, goat sacrifice or black magic you learned off of an old Geocities webpage that is going to alter the odds in any way. The odds will remain a constant unless one of three things occur: The total amount of tickets changes, the total number of prizes changes or the total amount of tickets sold does not end up meeting the total amount of tickets available.
Unless either of these 3 highly unlikely events occur, the laws of the universe dictate there will be no change in the odds. Any perceived change in the operation of the universe or latent colour of the sky in your personal world is merely a delusion of your own perception and has no bearing on us or any of our affiliates.
The only direct action you could possibly take that would change the odds is to find out whose personally drawing the tickets and take their family hostage. However, I’m pretty sure that’s against the contest rules and would invalidate your ticket entries.
Hot Tips
SC: “I’ve been doing some investigative work.”
That’s a big word for someone that lives above a grow op.
SC: “Have you ever heard of the California Foot Hills Cult? I think they’re connected to Prince Charles.”
I would request you colour me shocked, however I can no longer find that particular crayon. I suspect foul play.
SC: “That’s where Charles Manson and Ted Bundy got there starts right. See you just have to connect the dots.”
I can confidently say that if there is one thing in this world that you need to stop doing for the good of yourself and society as a whole it’s connecting dots.
Hawt Tips
SC: “Hey do you think the Queen rides around on a broom like all the other witches?”
……. what?
SC: “You know, since she doesn’t like the strap on dildo.”
….dude, no. Just…..no. Oh God. That doesn't even....I mean....do you mean she doesn't like wearing it, or doesn't like getting it? What, is it hard on her hips? What dots did you connect to come to that conclusion anyway? Wait, no, don’t tell me. The less I know of the methodology behind that statement the better. That’s already a mental image that’s going to keep me awake at night.
Grrr
Me: “And your name please?”
SC: “Do you want it in Spanish, Polish or Russian?”
Anything aside from in “Asshole” will be fine, thanks.
Me: “And the address please?”
SC: “It’s on Fred's Road”
Me: “Fred's Road?”
SC: “Yeah, right up from Daphne's Road, Scooby's Road and whatever the rest are.”
Please, sir. As I said, I do not speak “Asshole”. English only if you would be so kind.
Now They're Chasing Me
Had to walk here from Main Street Station this evening ( Wee. ). Some lunatic leapt on the tracks at Broadway right after my train left, and starting running towards Main Street. As if chasing me specifically. So the whole system had to be shut down and the tracks powered off ( So your train doesn’t move and has no lights. ) while the cops corralled him. Hopefully by tazing him and dragging him off like a drugged caribou. Either way, the police estimate was at least 30 minutes or more so I decided to hoof it here instead lest I be even later than I already was. Although, I’m a bit disturbed this happens so often the police actually have an average estimate for how long it takes to drag some moron off the tracks.
A Minor Set Back
SC: “I’m trying to install one of your things and I’ve had some…difficulties, and I need to order some replacement parts.”
Parts……as in plural? Yes, “difficulties” is a fair assessment of what events must have transpired. How did you lose and/or break multiple parts installing it anyhow?
SC: “The top piece of the frame that goes over the aluminum casing got damaged.”
Do tell.
SC: “It actually went airborne and hit the wall.”
Just went airborne did it? All by itself? Rather odd. I’ve read the product descriptions and the instruction manuals and no where do I recall reading “Warning: May Contain Magic”. I’m wagering that every component of our products is decidedly mundane until one utters the magic words: “MOTHER*(&@$ PIECE OF )&@%!”. At which point they may indeed gain the gift of flight.
Branching Out
SC: “Yeah I saw this on the TV for something that makes you feel goooood all the time.”
I wasn’t aware grow ops had branched out into late night infomercials. But I can see how it would be a powerful advertising block for the right companies. 20 minutes of “Bud With Bud” interspersed with commercials for Frito Lays and Wendy’s 24 hour drive through would be a potent, if glassy eyed, brew.
Sigh.
Me: “And your postal code please?”
SC: “page 15”
Me: “No, your postal code please?”
SC: “Ok, <product number>”
Me: "No, may I have your postal code please?”
SC: “Oh....uhh....”
I will never fully grasp why this line lends itself to such difficulties. At no point from start to finish is any inquiry or process on this line even remotely complicated. What is your name, where do you live, what do you want, how do you want to pay for it? That is not difficult. Yet they somehow manage to find it difficult. These are not difficult questions. Most of us can tell you our name and where we live by the time we hit Kindergarten. Hell my cat can tell you her name and where she lives. Simply by virtue of her collar tag. Is that what we’ve come to? Do we need to get you a collar with a little tag on it? So rather than having to face the difficult mental hurdles of everyday life, you can just show them your collar?
One side could be engraved with your name and address, the other side with “We apologize in advance for letting her out of the house”. You know, just like my cat’s.
annnnd rest. -.-
I May Finally Have Snapped
A-hem.
I am the very image of a modern major CSR.
I’d really love to help you but I fear you’ve pushed me way too far.
I know it’s almost midnight and you’re calling for a ticket.
But I’m seriously about to tell just where you can go and stick it.
I’m very well acquainted too with matters creditorial
Your card is not complex, please let me give you a tutorial
Just pick the damn thing up and tell me what the little numbers are
It’s really not that hard, and if you grasp it we’ll get rather far
I’m very good at postal codes, addresses and the telephone
So listen carefully when I read them back to you in pleasant tone
If you can’t really hear me right it’s really through no fault of mine
It’s probably because it’s midnight and you’re approximately a hundred and nine.
I know our ticket packages and what you get for how much dough
So tell me what you want, and in your direction chances I will throw
But our tickets are sequentially, there’s no random tickets you can claim
You’re a twit for even asking since your odds would still be just the same.
Now the time has come for you to get the hell off of my line.
I’d love to stay and chat but those behind you would begin to whine.
I’ve got to get back to my calls and you’ve got to stumble back to the bar.
For I’m the very image of a modern major CSR.
<cough>
Oh Yeah, Snapped.
Me: “Alright, thank you for calling and your tickets-“
SC: “Oh, I want to do 6 more orders.”
Me: “I’m sorry, 6?”
SC: “Yes, one for each of my grand children.”
…the English language does not possess a word that can possibly contain all of my loathing and sheer willing of misfortune upon your person at this very moment. So I will have to invent one myself. I shall call it Bilescath and you cannot possibly fathom just how much of it I am directing towards you right this instance.
Injuction
Me: “Thank you for calling”
SC: “Oh, you’re very welcome”
I am now legally required to advice you that we here at <company> have a zero tolerance policy towards coyness. Per company policy, I must now cancel your order and revoke your lottery tickets. Also, per policy, a member of our legal team should arrive at your home in the next 3-5 business days to serve you with an official notice that you are, in fact, not funny. Should you wish to dispute this, you will have 1 week to file the appropriate documents with your local city hall. At which point a formal trial will be scheduled where you may have your sense of humour, such as it is, judged by a jury of your peers. You will be given 3 sessions across 3 days to present any and all material you believe is “funny”. The province of British Columbia requires a minimum of at least 4 jurors achieving a level of laughter by which they have trouble breathing, tear up or lose momentary control of their bowels for you to maintain your status as “humourous”.
However, at any point during your allotted time a juror expresses a desire to punch you in the head or neck region, the government of Canada will automatically file a 3 year injunction against you preventing you from trying to employ “humour” until at least 2013. At which point you may file for the reinstatement of your “humourous” status.
You Have Got To Be Kidding Me
SC: “I don’t know whether I need a left or a right door”
Ah yes…left and right. We had some trouble with that last week too, didn’t we? I know, they are difficult concepts. But rest assured my good man, it is not really that complicated. Anyone can learn. We can help. Billy Mayes can help.
Me: “The product is labeled according to what side the hinges are on when you are outside looking at the door.”
SC: “Well if I’m outside, they’re on the left.”
Me: “Than you need a left door.”
SC: “Wait, I’m still not getting’ this. When I’m outside, the hinges are on the left. But when I go back inside. They’re on the right.”
Except you. We can’t help you. Even Billy Mayes would spit on you. Just forget it. Save your money and our sanity. Please. Because I can guarantee you right this moment that if you purchase our productn, you will be calling us within 5 minutes of opening the box. Which will be approximately 10 minutes before you end up having to call 911 because you’ve gotten the plastic bag the screws came in over your head somehow and can’t free yourself. In fact, you really should just forget this all together or else the last moments of your life are liable to end up being a 911 recording of “Hmhmph! MMMMFPHAH! MHMMF! MHm….mhm….mf…..hmf….<thud>”.
Sadly, Yes
C: “Do you guys sell tickets 24/7?”
Me: “Yes we do.”
C: “Wow, do you really get a lot of calls at night?”
Oh you poor, naïve man. I actually kind of envy you. You have not stared into the eyes of the soulless drudges that call at all hours. Writhing in the grip of Gamblor’s neon claws. You do not yet know just how far we have sunk as a species. But I do, my boy, I do.
OH FOR F-
SC: “Yeah I have a question. I’m looking at the hinges from the inside and-“
……ok seriously, what the hell, it hasn’t even been 30 minutes. This isn’t even the same guy.
Me: “They're set up so its whatever side the hinges are on when you’re looking from the outside.”
SC: “Oooh, you see it doesn’t say that. It should say that somewhere.”
IT SAYS SO RIGHT ON THE GOD DAMN BOX AND IN THE INSTRUCTION MANUAL. THE ONE YOU ARE HOLDING. IT EVEN HAS PICTURES, MAN! You like pictures don't you?! Of course you fucking do. My only question is how the hell did you get it to the cash register without even looking at it?!
......
There are many thoughts I do not wish to have running through my mind as I am riding the Skytrain. These are pretty basic things such as “Is…is that man touching himself?” or “Oh god, is that seat wet?”. You know, practical things you need to be on the lookout for while riding public transit.
I did not, however, expect the thought “Did a biker with a nail gun just walk past me?” to cross my mind. Also, the answer to the question was yes. I do not know why he had a nailgun at 11pm on the Skytrain, and I do not wish to know why for asking the question would likely get said nailgun applied to me. However, he did manage to ride all the way to Broadway without incident. So I can only assume whomever owes him money does not ride transit but does live within the vicinity of Broadway Station.
Yes!
Me: “Alright, would you like anything else?”
SC: “Yes, I w-no! No! That’s ok. That’s everything.”
Yes! We wants it! No! no, cants afford it. We cants! But we wants it! No! Filthy operators, they keeps it from us. Demand we gives them shinies! No! No we cants….but soon we will have it! Yes!
The Odds
SC: “Are they drawn electronically, or are they all put in a barrel? Cus if it’s a barrel you get more chances if you have more tickets. But if its electronic you don’t.”
If I could just interrupt you for a moment: But what colour is the sky in your world? It doesn’t matter what drawing method is use. Nor does it matter what sequence the ticket numbers are in. There is no amount of wishful thinking, strange ritual, “lucky” items, goat sacrifice or black magic you learned off of an old Geocities webpage that is going to alter the odds in any way. The odds will remain a constant unless one of three things occur: The total amount of tickets changes, the total number of prizes changes or the total amount of tickets sold does not end up meeting the total amount of tickets available.
Unless either of these 3 highly unlikely events occur, the laws of the universe dictate there will be no change in the odds. Any perceived change in the operation of the universe or latent colour of the sky in your personal world is merely a delusion of your own perception and has no bearing on us or any of our affiliates.
The only direct action you could possibly take that would change the odds is to find out whose personally drawing the tickets and take their family hostage. However, I’m pretty sure that’s against the contest rules and would invalidate your ticket entries.
Hot Tips
SC: “I’ve been doing some investigative work.”
That’s a big word for someone that lives above a grow op.
SC: “Have you ever heard of the California Foot Hills Cult? I think they’re connected to Prince Charles.”
I would request you colour me shocked, however I can no longer find that particular crayon. I suspect foul play.
SC: “That’s where Charles Manson and Ted Bundy got there starts right. See you just have to connect the dots.”
I can confidently say that if there is one thing in this world that you need to stop doing for the good of yourself and society as a whole it’s connecting dots.
Hawt Tips
SC: “Hey do you think the Queen rides around on a broom like all the other witches?”
……. what?
SC: “You know, since she doesn’t like the strap on dildo.”
….dude, no. Just…..no. Oh God. That doesn't even....I mean....do you mean she doesn't like wearing it, or doesn't like getting it? What, is it hard on her hips? What dots did you connect to come to that conclusion anyway? Wait, no, don’t tell me. The less I know of the methodology behind that statement the better. That’s already a mental image that’s going to keep me awake at night.
Grrr
Me: “And your name please?”
SC: “Do you want it in Spanish, Polish or Russian?”
Anything aside from in “Asshole” will be fine, thanks.
Me: “And the address please?”
SC: “It’s on Fred's Road”
Me: “Fred's Road?”
SC: “Yeah, right up from Daphne's Road, Scooby's Road and whatever the rest are.”
Please, sir. As I said, I do not speak “Asshole”. English only if you would be so kind.
Now They're Chasing Me
Had to walk here from Main Street Station this evening ( Wee. ). Some lunatic leapt on the tracks at Broadway right after my train left, and starting running towards Main Street. As if chasing me specifically. So the whole system had to be shut down and the tracks powered off ( So your train doesn’t move and has no lights. ) while the cops corralled him. Hopefully by tazing him and dragging him off like a drugged caribou. Either way, the police estimate was at least 30 minutes or more so I decided to hoof it here instead lest I be even later than I already was. Although, I’m a bit disturbed this happens so often the police actually have an average estimate for how long it takes to drag some moron off the tracks.
A Minor Set Back
SC: “I’m trying to install one of your things and I’ve had some…difficulties, and I need to order some replacement parts.”
Parts……as in plural? Yes, “difficulties” is a fair assessment of what events must have transpired. How did you lose and/or break multiple parts installing it anyhow?
SC: “The top piece of the frame that goes over the aluminum casing got damaged.”
Do tell.
SC: “It actually went airborne and hit the wall.”
Just went airborne did it? All by itself? Rather odd. I’ve read the product descriptions and the instruction manuals and no where do I recall reading “Warning: May Contain Magic”. I’m wagering that every component of our products is decidedly mundane until one utters the magic words: “MOTHER*(&@$ PIECE OF )&@%!”. At which point they may indeed gain the gift of flight.
Branching Out
SC: “Yeah I saw this on the TV for something that makes you feel goooood all the time.”
I wasn’t aware grow ops had branched out into late night infomercials. But I can see how it would be a powerful advertising block for the right companies. 20 minutes of “Bud With Bud” interspersed with commercials for Frito Lays and Wendy’s 24 hour drive through would be a potent, if glassy eyed, brew.
Sigh.
Me: “And your postal code please?”
SC: “page 15”
Me: “No, your postal code please?”
SC: “Ok, <product number>”
Me: "No, may I have your postal code please?”
SC: “Oh....uhh....”
I will never fully grasp why this line lends itself to such difficulties. At no point from start to finish is any inquiry or process on this line even remotely complicated. What is your name, where do you live, what do you want, how do you want to pay for it? That is not difficult. Yet they somehow manage to find it difficult. These are not difficult questions. Most of us can tell you our name and where we live by the time we hit Kindergarten. Hell my cat can tell you her name and where she lives. Simply by virtue of her collar tag. Is that what we’ve come to? Do we need to get you a collar with a little tag on it? So rather than having to face the difficult mental hurdles of everyday life, you can just show them your collar?
One side could be engraved with your name and address, the other side with “We apologize in advance for letting her out of the house”. You know, just like my cat’s.
annnnd rest. -.-
) so far but I had to post and say you. are. awesome.* 
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