I’m hanging out to dry / With my old clothes
Finger still red / with the prick of an old rose
Well the heart that hurts / Is a heart that beats

Creepy!

Who freaks you out more... the Burger King, or this guy!

Both are equally worthy of deserving a padded white room with no door handle on the inside, but I think the Burger King looks more like he might have pedophilic tendancies... like a guy who'd hang out around the fence of an elementary school. For that I still think he's the creepiest.

Overseas CS: The Final Chapter

In reply to the pointless “cookies” email from Yahoo Customer Service I wrote:

Thank you for the tip, but cookies aren't the issue. I'm well aware of how they work. My problem (if you'd read my first email) has absolutely NOTHING to do with staying logged in. You’re reply was an admirable effort, but once again your pre-packaged form letter failed miserably at addressing my problem. I encourage you once more to "read" what my problem actually is.

I’m not asking too much, am I? My question is clear enough, is it not?

I thought by this point I was wearing them down… maybe enough emails sent back would trigger some sort of alert, forcing an intelligent person to actually take 15 seconds and actually look at my email.

I was right... just not about the "intelligent" part.

Thank you for writing to Yahoo! Music. Our engineering staff is currently looking into the problem that you are experiencing. We apologize for the inconvenience and would like to assure you that we are doing everything in our power to resolve the issue as quickly as possible.

We appreciate your patience and understanding on this matter. As always, your satisfaction is our goal.

Translation: “We don’t know WTF your problem is, and we can no longer
 be bothered with it."

I'm glad I don't pay for the service... but I really pity those that do.

If indeed "your satisfaction is our goal"... I can't help but wonder what
 would happen if it wasn't.

Yahoo Customer Service: The Continuing Saga

After reading the first reply from Yahoo that absolutely nothing to do with my actual problem, I realized that pursuing the course would lead to nothing... and emptyness. Yet, I went ahead and tried anyways. I'm a glutton for punishment, I suppose.

I wrote back:

Thanks for the reply, but none of what you wrote addresses my problem.

I wrote: The title and artist of the song currently playing reverts to a default of "Imagine" by Prefect Circle nearly half the time. No matter what song or genre, the song and artist is wrong. This is especially annoying when I hear a song I don't know and would like to find out who sings it, or rate it, but I can't but Launchcast is telling me I'm listening to A Perfect Circle when I clearly am not."

I listen to Launchcast in Messenger, completely apart from any browser, so Mozilla, Netscape, or anything else is NOT my problem.

Try reading the problem before sending a prepackaged response. Thanks!

Maybe I could have been a little more polite... but I figured that nobody was actually reading what I wrote anyways, as evidenced by their first reply, so why should I bother being nice about it?

A day or two later I get this in reply, once again confirming my suspicion that nobody is actually reading what I write:

Thank you for writing to Yahoo! Music. The problem you are experiencing may be caused by a difficulty setting your user cookie. A cookie is a small piece of information stored by your browser to help identify who you are. Yahoo! uses cookies to keep you signed into your account as you move from page to page. If your cookie is not being accepted correctly, you will be signed out of your account as soon as you move to a different page. This is what is likely blocking your current ability to sign in or stay signed in.

What?!? Where did I tell them I couldn't stay signed in? They plainly aren't reading jack!

"Oryan", the Yahoo Customer Care agent then goes on to give me this entire email full of
suggestions about how to work with cookies. Thanks, but that's NOT my problem.

I will reply back shortly and see what other gem they can come up with.

Reasons why outsourcing Customer Service overseas is a bad idea: #487

I use Yahoo Messenger at work to keep in touch with the offices at the other end of the building. Having that program running gives me the added bonus of being able to listen to my Lanchcast station. My office is in some sort of radio-wave blackhole, so I can barely tune in anything without being online. Anyways, Launchcast in Messenger has a few quirks... nothing drastic, just annoying. One such quirk is that the Artist/Song Title doesn't always update properly, and even more annoyingly updates to the wrong info... usually defaulting to some song. In my case, 1 out of every 2 or 3 songs defaults to Imagine by A Perfect Circle. The song actually playing isn't Imagine... that's just what displays in my Messenger.So, I decided to write Yahoo Customer service and let them know... maybe they are smart enough to have a fix for it (not bloody likely).

Here's what I submitted to them:

OS: Windows XP SP2
What firewall software do you currently have installed? None
Subject: Other
Type your feedback here: The title and artist of the song currently playing reverts to a default of "Imagine" by Prefect Circle nearly half the time. No matter what song or genre, the song and artist is wrong.

Simple, polite, straightforward... how hard could it be for them to provide me with a quick answer? Harder than I thought, evidently.

Their reply:

Hello,

Thank you for writing to Yahoo! Music.

Unfortunately LAUNCHcast is not currently compatible with the OSX system or the Mozilla, Firefox, Safari and Netscape 6-7 browsers. At this time there is no estimated date as to when this service may be available using these applications.

WTF? Did they even read what I wrote?!? I wasn't typing in some strange language, was I? I didn't use particularly difficult words, did I? I didn't realize getting a decent answer would be so hard. Their answer had absolutely nothing to do with what I asked.

Letter to my ex:

Dear ******,

I know the lawyers said we shouldn't contact each other except for things that directly involve our son, but I couldn't wait anymore. The day you left, I swore I'd never talk to you again. But that was just the wounded little boy in me talking. Still, I never wanted to be the first one to make contact. In my fantasies, it was always you who would come crawling back to me. I guess my pride needed that. But now I see that my pride's cost me a lot of things.

I'm tired of pretending I don't miss you. I don't care about looking bad anymore. I don't care who makes the first move as long as one of us does.

Maybe it's time we let our hearts speak as loudly as our hurt. And this is what my heart says: "There's no one like you, ******." I look for you in the eyes and breasts of every woman I see, but they're not you.

This spring, I met this girl in Miami and brought her back to the hotel with me. I don't say this to hurt you, but just to illustrate the depth of my desperation. She was young, maybe 19; with one of those perfect bodies that only youth and maybe a childhood spent ice skating can give you. I mean, just a perfect body. Tits like you wouldn't believe, an ass that just wouldn't quit, and oh my god so flexible! Every man's dream, right?

But as I sat on the couch being blown by this stunner, I thought, "what about all the stuff ****** and I made important in our lives?". It's all so superficial. What does a perfect body mean? Does it make her better in bed? Well, in this case, yes, but you see what I'm getting at. Does it make her a better person? Does she have a better heart than my moderate looking ******? I doubt it. And I'd never really thought of that before. I don't know, maybe I'm just growing up a little.

Later, after I'd tossed her about a half a pint of throat yogurt, I found myself thinking, "Why do I feel so drained and empty?" It wasn't just her flawless technique or her slutty, shameless hunger, or the fact the she swallowed instead of spitting it in a Kleenex... but something else. Some nagging feeling of loss. Why did it feel so incomplete? And then it hit me.

It didn't feel the same because you weren't there to watch. Do you know what I mean? Nothing feels the same without you.

Jesus, ******, I'm just going crazy without you. And everything I do just reminds me of you. Do you remember Carol, that single mom we met at the *****'s day-care last year? Well, she dropped by last week with a pan of lasagna.

She said she figured I wasn't eating right without a woman around. I didn't know what she meant till later, but that's not the real story. Anyway, we had a few glasses of wine and the next thing you know, we're banging away in our old bedroom.

And this MILF is a total monster in the sack. She's giving me everything, you know, like a real woman does when she's not hung up about her weight or her career and whether the kid can hear us. And all of a sudden, she spots that tilting mirror on your grandmother's old vanity. So she puts it on the floor and we straddle it, right, so we can watch ourselves. And it's totally hot, but it makes me sad, too, because I can't help thinking, "Why didn't ****** ever put the mirror on the floor? We've had this old vanity for what, 14 years, and we never used it as a sex toy."

Saturday, your sister drops by with my copy of the lawyer's papers. I mean, ******'s just a kid and all, but she's got a pretty good head on her shoulders and she's been a real friend to me during this painful time. She's given me lots of good advice about you and about women in general. She's pulling for us to get back together, ******, she really is.

So we're doing Jell-O shots in a hot bubble bath and talking about happier times. Here's this 19 year old girl with the same DNA as you and all I can do is think of how much she looked like you when you were 19. And that just about makes me cry.

And then it turns out ******'s really into the whole anal thing, that gets me to thinking about how many times I pressured you about trying it and how that probably fueled some of the bitterness between us.

But do you see how even then... even when I'm thrusting inside your baby sister's cinnamon ring, all I can do is think of you?

It's true, ******. In your heart you must know it. Don't you think we could start over? Just wipe out all the grievances away and start fresh? I think we can. If you feel the same please, please, please let me know.

Otherwise, can you let me know where the fuck you put the DVD remote?

Love,
Kevin

Talk about breaking a stereotype...

When someone says "knitting" invariably the first thing that comes to just about anyones mind is a pleasant old granny, perhaps in a rocking chair, needles clicking and clacking away while she crafts a pair of socks, or a scarf, or a warm wooly pullover for her grandchildren.

The absolute LAST thing to come to mind would be a nice ass, and an endorsement by Carmen Electra.

Sexy Little Knits found at Amazon.ca

I'm as stunned as I'm sure you are!