—Will Scarlett, Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves
Because, you know, there’s nothing more awesome than a “RH:POT” reference.
It’s Go Time.
So it’s the first Saturday in May, and I’m listening to my ready-made Pandora radio station.
I know what you’re thinking. You’re thinking, “Uncle The Hussein, given what we know about you from this site, it’s probably a poppy kinda station with Jay-Z, Kanye West, & Joe Budden, and maybe some Fall Out Boy, right?”.
FALSE! It’s a station anchored by…wait for it…the Backstreet Boys. Yep, that’s right. Brian, Howie, A.J., Nick, and Kevin (unless it’s from the Unbreakable album, at which point Kevin is left off because of this desire to take a break from BSB). Lots of BSB, plus some of the first-two-albums material from *N’Sync, with the occasional 98 Degrees song, and contributions from Celine Dion (Yesss!) and O*Town.
Ah, and speaking of which, *N’Sync’s “I Want You Back” is on. (in case you’re curious, it’s the one that sounds like BSB’s “Everybody (Backstreet’s Back)”.
Indeed, it’s that kind of day here around the Castle O’ Rey. There was a party thrown by one of the guys last nite, and a good time was had by all. Um, until m’fuckas started playing motherfucking “Rock Band”, and then a good time was had by everyone but me. In my defense, I’m so not a video game person, and everyone else I know is. I mean, every now and then I can play a game, but I’ve never been good at them, and have never really considered it much of a challenge or an accomplishment to defeat some pixelated, polygon’d villain.
I’m more of a Tetris kinda guy. I enjoy using my wits. If they made some kind of pithy comeback game, or a philosophizing about life game, I’d be all for it. Sign me right up. But playing plastic guitars? Singing rock songs I don’t know off key (“And I wish I never met her at all!”)?
Um, no thanks.
Pac-Man is a good game. The aforementioned Tetris. Pong. Bejeweled. Sign me right up. But some nex-gen PS3 shit with a name like “Future Crisis 4: Rise of the Zombie Dinosaurs” is just gonna put me in a fuckin’ coma.
I’m glad my friends enjoy the video games, and I’m sure that it fulfills some kind of need in their life: Escaping, keepin’ the ol’ noggin’ sharp, entertainment, but I’d take conversation any day of the week.
Plus, one of them used the word “Fail!” in real life, and if Life hadn’t already pimp-slapp’d the poor boy continuously since birth, I would’ve busted a cap in his ass.
(because I know you’re wondering, Savage Garden is singing “Crash & Burn” right now)
Anyway, in other ReyLand news, I started a new job on Wednesday at AudioVox, the stereo/car accessory/tv company. Right now I’m in training, but after about 4 weeks I’ll be a customer service rep for the company. I’d like it more if training didn’t solely consist of me listening to calls, but it’s not so bad.
Actually, the job is pretty sweet. I did 411 calls from 7/2001 until 10/2004, and that was just a miserable, slogging bataan death march for a sadistic company that should’ve changed it’s name from “Metro One Telecommunications” to “Fuck you, you’re expendable…Telecommunications”. They were fuckin’ assholes about everything they possibly could’ve been. Rigid break times, catch 22 OT policies, no food or beverages on the floor, uncaring supervisory staff, and they had less compassion than CompassionMart after it burned down.
A-Vox is kinda cool tho’. Apparently Monday and Tuesday are the busy days, with Wednesday thru Friday being on the slow side–this is good because (1) the money’s good, and let’s not kid ourselves, more money for less work is the American Dream.
(not my American dream tho’–that’s still 2 chicks at the same time. To quote Andre 3ooo: “I’m just being honest.”)
Anyway, like I was saying, the less work part ties in with the fact that I can bring a book or a magazine to keep me sane whilst the calls or slow. That’s the thing about call centers. When they’re busy, the day flies by. When they’re not busy, the day crawls by. On it’s belly. Slowwwlllyy. So, whereas Metro DickFuckTwatmmunications banned any kind of sanity-savers like cell phones, books, magazines, or newspapers, this place recognizes that people need something stimulating to keep them from falling asleep. And believe me, Wednesday I was nodding off, and yesterday the operator I’ve been assigned to was nodding off.
Sheeit, she was playing motherfucking Hearts and FreeCell to keep awake!
The people there seem to be pretty cool. There are maybe 10 operators there, and there’s a lot of interaction between them all, so there’s a team sense even tho’ everyone is in their own cubicle (with fancy windows built in! *whistles*) knockin’ out their own calls.
So yeah, this looks like a pretty sweet gig, and (okay Aerosmith/Pandora, I can’t listen to “Don’t Wanna Miss A Thing” twice in a week, nevermind twice in an hour) they’re looking for someone to put down roots, and with all the upheaval I’ve had in, oh, every single f’n facet of my life since 2000 (yes, since motherfucking 2000), I could stand to put down some roots. (No Alex Haley).
Yep, this gig is mine to fuck up, and I’m really trying hard to leave the fuck upness at home.
Daniel Bedingfield is crooning “If You’re Not The One”. I don’t know if this song is beautiful or pitiful. I remember being ehh about it when it came out in 2003, but six years later I can safely say this: It’s way…way…way less annoying than “Bad Day”.
Call Reynolds, Cuz it’s a Wrap.
Alright kids, that’s it for today. I’m done ranting.
As always, comments, questions, critiques, or reasons why girls refuse to include even ONE awesome cleavage picture amongst their Facebook or Myspace pictures can be left below in the Dr. Donda West-Christopher Wallace Memorial Comments Section.
Thanks for tuning in,