In other news, does anyone else want to ass fuck any and all of Sprint's wireless network customer service representatives with a flail as much as I do? Am I alone here?

Birdman and I combined spend almost 200 dollars a fucking month for our camera phones. They're god damn horrible people, the ones that invented screwing good hard working people because they like to stay connected. And why would anyone choose the color red in all of their advertising schemes? It's almost like they're trying to infuriate the population.

When I call 411, they always send me to the wrong damn number, and then I'll call back all angry, but it's not the new person's responsibility to deal with my ass, and I have to watch myself on that, seeing that I've worked the other end of the service industry, and there were plenty of times I wanted to bitchslap someone with a frappucino. There was one point in time, where someone actually bitchslapped *me* with a drink, thus sparking a series of occurrences that led to my demise at that unsaid coffee corporation, sparking an unemployment lawsuit and part of my self-worth.

Does anyone remember trundle beds? Am I saying that right, the bed in the damn drawer? How cool is that. My sister once told me that only midgets were allowed to buy those beds, and I always envied midgets for that, until I was 10 and became taller than most of them. But I think it's horrible and cliche to make fun of midgets, I might look pretty funny in chaps too, but until someone pays my school bill for it, but even then it's seriously a sad and embarrassing thought. If I ever went around with the creeping suspicion that people thought I'd look funny on a tricycle, I'd probably kill myself.