(no subject)
People, do me a favor. Pay your fucking bills. And if you dont' pay your bills, especially your Sprint Wireless cell phone bill, do not bitch at the people who have to try and take money from you in order to help your cell phone be turned back on.
Dig it?
These people who call in make me hate the human race all over agian. Like Mister Reverend Lawyer. Dumb fuckdidn't ask about how much it is and how the system works in order to start an account. Therefore, because Mr. Reverend Laywer FUCKACE didn't ask these questions, it is my fault that his cell phone bill went too high and his service was disconnected. Thus, the esteemed Mr. Reverend Lawyer Fuckface Douchebag Scumbucket feels he has the right to talk down to me like I am a stupid person. I am not a stupid person. I am not doing the wrong thing. I am trying to explain to Mr. Reverend Lawyer twatwaffle that he has used $50 worth of time on the phone and that is added onto his activation fees and has put him over his spending limit. Mr. Reverend Lawyer Twatwaffle SIR then blames me and explains things as if he believes that I have all the mental capacity of a tiny bit of excrement mixed in with Taco Bell beans. Mr. Reverend Lawyer Dirtbag Deadbeat then reminds me that, not only is he a man of God, he is a man of the Law. Therefore, what he says is nothing but the truth. Cuntsucking faggot! No, I'm sure he wasn't a fagasexual, he just needs to be called dirty names every fucking dirty name there is. This call made me cry. Why? Humiliation, mostly. He had me on the phone for a half hour, making me feel stupid and worthless. Or at least trying to. Everyone would come over eery five minutes and ask if I was okay. I tried to joke. I did. But then we finally hung up--Reverend Lawyer cocksucker had taken my id down in order to reference me in a lawsuit, or so it seemed (Hey, can I be extradited for this? God, yes, different country AMEN CANADA) after insulting Indians, Pakistanis, blacks (Hey, mister, guess what? You don' SOUND WHITE, your NAME isn't very caucasion either, Mr. Reveerend fuckface Lawywer pigfucker) and basically everyone outside the (God Blessed!) United States who is not white and has a job in customer service, as they have been 'trained to lie'. Wonder if I should have told him I was frm (God Blessed It!) Texas. He was wrong. I tried to tell him he was misinformed, he corrected me--like you would a fucking stupid CHILD and told me that he was not "misinformed, ma'am, what I was was LIED to. There IS A DIFFERENCE." Hallelujiah Amen you fat fuck. I could hear the fat in his voice. TO which I replied: "I'm sorry that you feel that you were--" "No no, ma'am (patronise patronise) I do not FEEL I was lied to, because FEELING something has to do with AY-MOTIONS (Gimme an aaay-man brotha') I THINK, which is something you do with your MIND (praise jesus) and I also KNOW that I was LIED to." Silence on my end. Compulsive squeezing and unsqueezin of coke can. Sharp edges. "Sir, if you like, I can trans---" "Do you UNDERSTAND what I m sayin'?" (praise god.)
Ugh. That just made me cry. |That fucking humiliation, because this man was LOUD and everyone could HEAR him trying to tear me down. Everyone could HEAR my stuttered attempts at ebuttal. Everyone could hear the man over the loudspeaker announcing that I had been on 25 minutes. That and the fac tthat I couldn't just let loose and call Reverend Shitbag Lawye dickhead what I wanted to. Which was a lot. I also couldn't tell the fat prick to go to hell and BURN THERE FOR MAKING MY LIFE MISERABLE.
And y'know what?
After threatening to sue me and the company, after putting me through half an hour of humilation in front of my co-workers and supervisors...
That cock grabbing motherfucking shiteating bastard had the gall to tell me to "Be Blessed."
I think that's what turned on the waterworks.
The moral of this story?
PAY YOUR FUCKING BILLS RIGHT FUCKING NOW BECAUSE IF I HAVE TO DEAL WITH YOU YOU ARE GONNA FUCKING REGRET IT BECAUSE I KNOW YOU PEOPLE.
Dig it?
These people who call in make me hate the human race all over agian. Like Mister Reverend Lawyer. Dumb fuckdidn't ask about how much it is and how the system works in order to start an account. Therefore, because Mr. Reverend Laywer FUCKACE didn't ask these questions, it is my fault that his cell phone bill went too high and his service was disconnected. Thus, the esteemed Mr. Reverend Lawyer Fuckface Douchebag Scumbucket feels he has the right to talk down to me like I am a stupid person. I am not a stupid person. I am not doing the wrong thing. I am trying to explain to Mr. Reverend Lawyer twatwaffle that he has used $50 worth of time on the phone and that is added onto his activation fees and has put him over his spending limit. Mr. Reverend Lawyer Twatwaffle SIR then blames me and explains things as if he believes that I have all the mental capacity of a tiny bit of excrement mixed in with Taco Bell beans. Mr. Reverend Lawyer Dirtbag Deadbeat then reminds me that, not only is he a man of God, he is a man of the Law. Therefore, what he says is nothing but the truth. Cuntsucking faggot! No, I'm sure he wasn't a fagasexual, he just needs to be called dirty names every fucking dirty name there is. This call made me cry. Why? Humiliation, mostly. He had me on the phone for a half hour, making me feel stupid and worthless. Or at least trying to. Everyone would come over eery five minutes and ask if I was okay. I tried to joke. I did. But then we finally hung up--Reverend Lawyer cocksucker had taken my id down in order to reference me in a lawsuit, or so it seemed (Hey, can I be extradited for this? God, yes, different country AMEN CANADA) after insulting Indians, Pakistanis, blacks (Hey, mister, guess what? You don' SOUND WHITE, your NAME isn't very caucasion either, Mr. Reveerend fuckface Lawywer pigfucker) and basically everyone outside the (God Blessed!) United States who is not white and has a job in customer service, as they have been 'trained to lie'. Wonder if I should have told him I was frm (God Blessed It!) Texas. He was wrong. I tried to tell him he was misinformed, he corrected me--like you would a fucking stupid CHILD and told me that he was not "misinformed, ma'am, what I was was LIED to. There IS A DIFFERENCE." Hallelujiah Amen you fat fuck. I could hear the fat in his voice. TO which I replied: "I'm sorry that you feel that you were--" "No no, ma'am (patronise patronise) I do not FEEL I was lied to, because FEELING something has to do with AY-MOTIONS (Gimme an aaay-man brotha') I THINK, which is something you do with your MIND (praise jesus) and I also KNOW that I was LIED to." Silence on my end. Compulsive squeezing and unsqueezin of coke can. Sharp edges. "Sir, if you like, I can trans---" "Do you UNDERSTAND what I m sayin'?" (praise god.)
Ugh. That just made me cry. |That fucking humiliation, because this man was LOUD and everyone could HEAR him trying to tear me down. Everyone could HEAR my stuttered attempts at ebuttal. Everyone could hear the man over the loudspeaker announcing that I had been on 25 minutes. That and the fac tthat I couldn't just let loose and call Reverend Shitbag Lawye dickhead what I wanted to. Which was a lot. I also couldn't tell the fat prick to go to hell and BURN THERE FOR MAKING MY LIFE MISERABLE.
And y'know what?
After threatening to sue me and the company, after putting me through half an hour of humilation in front of my co-workers and supervisors...
That cock grabbing motherfucking shiteating bastard had the gall to tell me to "Be Blessed."
I think that's what turned on the waterworks.
The moral of this story?
PAY YOUR FUCKING BILLS RIGHT FUCKING NOW BECAUSE IF I HAVE TO DEAL WITH YOU YOU ARE GONNA FUCKING REGRET IT BECAUSE I KNOW YOU PEOPLE.