I Complain Therefore I Am

Because My Wife Got Tired of Listening to Me

Archive for February, 2010

I Think I’m Just Gonna Get Drunk, And Play XBox.

Feb 24

Posted by Victor in Uncategorized | No Comments

That's me.

Oooohhh! I try to do nice things, but I'm a douche, and I mess them up! Oooohhhh!

Let me pose a question to you, folks. What. The. Fuck? I mentioned in another post that I’m paid to work 9 – 5. I’ve worked the past 10 days straight, including an average of 12 hours a day the past 5 days. You see, we’re implementing a new ERP integration system at my job, and blah blah blah (I want to stab myself just thinking about it). Needless to say, I’ve been really fucking busy. Not just busy, but REALLY FUCKING BUSY. Anybody that has an office job knows that you don’t work full-time, you spend some time on the Internet, jacking off, writing an Internet blog, whatever. But not these past two weeks. I’ve been sweatin’ like a dog in a Chinese Food restaurant. But it’s OK because I kind of like what I’m doing. All of this, however, has nothing to do with my post.

Today, I’m bitching about being a nice guy. Yep, I’m bitching about being a fucking saint. It seems that every time that I try to do something nice, I get punched in the fucking head for it. It doesn’t help that I’m a forgetful little man. I’ll sometimes forget the nice thing that I was going to do by the time the afternoon rolls around. Other than that, something always ends up fucking up my nice gesture. For example, I said to myself this morning, “I’m gonna do something nice for my fiancee today.” I’ve been working a lot, and I haven’t been coming home till pretty late. I wasn’t home all day on Saturday, all day Sunday, and was home at like 7 the past two nights. So I figured, “I’ll really burn through my work today, come home at 5 with some flowers, and cook dinner for when she gets home.”  Great plan right? Sure! I’m a fucking Casanova.

At the end of the day, I get an E-mail from her saying, “Honey, some people from work are going to happy hour at a bar, is it OK if I go?” Now I don’t blame her at all, obviously, but what a fucking buzz kill. And what the hell am I supposed to say? The way I see it, I have 4 options.  Option 1–I say no, and that I want her to come home. But then, when she gets home, I have flowers, and I’m cooking–it looks as if I feel bad. Option 2–I say no, and tell her why–but then that ruins the surprise. Option 3–I tell her to go, and manage to pull off being happy about it. This would be the smartest of the four. And then we have good ol’ option 4. There’s always an option 4. I call it, the Obama option. It’s the option that fucks everything up for everyone involved. I tell her to go, but sound upset about it (subconsciously), and when she inquires, I tell her about what I was going to do. Thereby making her feel guilty about going, plus simultaneously making me look like a douche and still having me stay home alone tonight.

Which option do you think I chose? If you chose option 3, you’re an idiot. Of course it’s option 4. It had to be. The only one that would simultaneously end up with me feeling like shit, and her feeling guilty. Damn, I’m a fucking genius. Look in the dictionary… under douchebag-face-cock… that picture there. Yea, that’s me.

So, if you haven’t figured out what I’m doing tonight (besides blogging), please ask a friend of yours to take a TV (preferably 32″ or larger), and drop it on your head from a height of at least 10 feet.

As for me–I think I’m just gonna get drunk, and play XBox.

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TD Bank. I’d Rather Make Love To A Walrus Than Call You.

Feb 18

Posted by Victor in Life, Miscellaneous | 4 Comments

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Hi! I'm Tara, and I cut myself!

I’ve never wanted to strangle someone, as much as I wanted to strangle the three phone operators that I spoke to from TD Bank yesterday. Allow me to give you some background.

You see, when you use TDBank Online, you’re given access to your previous 18 months worth of statements. Great, right? Sure, especially for someone like me who owns his own business. I need access to those statements to do my quarterly taxes, and such. So, yesterday I needed to print my statements for my quarterly taxes, when I noticed that my September through December 2009 statements weren’t in the drop down list. Naturally, I was perturbed. I needed these in about a half hour to give to my accountant. Being the intelligent fellow that I claim to be, I gave the ol’ ‘toll-free’ 888 number a ringy-ding-dingle. Apparently, toll-free now means intelligence-free–whoopie! First off, those stupid fucking automated menus make me want to shove a red-hot poker up my ass. But I digress, as that’s another topic entirely. When I finally get someone on the phone and explained the entire issue (along with my time constraint), I was politely told that this wasn’t customer service–this was the operator, who would connect me somewhere else. Well, why the fuck didn’t you stop me from explaining the entire situation?! I could have saved myself 10 goddamn minutes! At this point, my head started to hurt a little.

Next, I was given to customer service–oh boy. The lady from customer service was extremely nice. However, at this point I don’t give a shit if anyone is nice–I want someone who knows what the fuck they’re doing, and Phyllis sounded like she had just had a lobotomy. I calmly try to explain my predicament to her, and that I’d like October, November, and December statements E-mailed to me, so that I can print them out, and take them with my to my accountant’s office. Keep in mind, they have my fucking E-mail on file–I had not provided them with it. Phyllis then said something that will stick with me forever–”We can’t E-mail it to you, because we don’t know if you’re you.” …

Sorry, I just started crying a little bit. This is what our world has come to. I can’t get an E-mail sent to the address that they have on file for me, because it somehow might be re-routed to me, who may not be me. Jesus, my head really hurts now. Phyllis then told me that it’s possible to have it mailed to me, via USPS, and it would only take one day! Wow! One whole day?! That’s it! That’d be awesome, except for as I told her 4 times now, I NEED IT IN THE NEXT 20 MINUTES. Needless to say, Phyllis became a little upset with my demeanor, and transferred me over to the Online banking section of cubicles. She says it was because maybe they could do a better job helping me… I think it’s because Phyllis doesn’t like me anymore.

So, now I’m on the phone with Tara from Online Banking, and boy is she a delight! She starts the conversation by putting me on hold, and leaving me there for 5 minutes. She then (sounding like a depressed 15 year old), reiterated the mailing via USPS option that Phyllis had pitched. No go, Tara. No go. So, then she gives me a new option–I can have it faxed to a branch, and then go pick it up. Well hold my ankles, and call me submissive… that doesn’t fucking help either. Then I asked the magical question–”Can you fax it to a number that I give you?” Well, sure! They can do that! GREAT GOOGILY MOOGILY WHY THE FUCK DIDN’T YOU SAY THAT IN THE FIRST PLACE?! I then gave her a fax number (actually it’s a program that receives the fax, and transmits it to an E-mail which is sent to the address that they didn’t want to send it to, in the first place–so eat it bitches)., and she faxed over the statements.

I opened the E-mail only to find out… all of the statements are illegible.

Fuck you, TD Bank. Fuck you very much.

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If You Did Something Stupid, You’re An Idiot. End Of Story. Now Shut The Fuck Up.

Feb 16

Posted by Victor in Life | No Comments

Douche.

Oh man! I defaulted on my student loans, and now I owe $555,000! I'm a dickhead!

Holy good God, Jesus, Mary, Joseph, Allah, and Kwazy Kwansah Karl… I’m am sick and tired of hearing about people with money problems. I read a story today about a doctor with $555, 000 in student loan debt. She says in the article (read here), “Maybe half of it was my fault because I didn’t look at the fine print… But this is just outrageous now.” Are you serious?! Half of a $555,000 debt is your fault, and you still have the fucking nerve to complain? (If you say I’m being a hypocrite, because of the name of my blog, please stop reading this, and immediately stick a fork through your temporal lobe.) You didn’t look at the fine print? And you’re a doctor?! Jesus, you’re the last fucking person I want looking at my tonsils. It would probably take you six fucking weeks to diagnose a headache. I assume it would be OK if I just stopped shitting for like 5 days, came to your office, and told you I have a stomach problem. And then, when I proceeded release my bowels all over your nice sterile floor, I can say, “Well it was only half my fault because you never told me to shit, so now you can’t charge me any money for this visit.”

Has common sense been completely lost on people? Listen, I have debts… debts that I’ve created, and am currently paying off. I have a house to fix up, a wedding to pay for, and random fucking $1200 oil bills. I don’t sit there and complain to a news network about it. You big fucking baby. Maybe it’s not half your fault… maybe it’s ALL YOUR FAULT. Maybe you should have thought about it, before deferring and defaulting on your loans. Maybe you should have reconsidered becoming a doctor in the first place, especially since you seem to be half-retarded.

It’s amazing! All I have to do to get sympathy nowadays is to default on my fucking mortgage for 6 months. Then, I’m a human interest story. How about this instead, asshole who’s underwater on their mortgage? Maybe this will be a revelation to you but–HOW ABOUT YOU DON’T BUY A $500,000 HOUSE, WHEN YOU WORK AT FUCKING BURGER KING?! Holy shit! What an idea! I’m paying for the money mistakes that I’ve made, and I’ve learned from them. If we keep bailing out stupid people, all we’re going to have is a bunch of stupid fucking people, who think that they can just fuck up all they want, and they’ll get saved (which is what is happening right now).

I have an idea. Don’t bail these people out. You lose your house? Next time, don’t buy a house you can’t afford. Lose your car? Learn how to ride a bike. Can’t pay alimony for your 7 kids from 6 different mothers? You. Should. Be. Shot.

And just to clarify, I’m not talking about all people that can’t afford their mortgages… I really do feel for the family that has two kids, where both parents lost their jobs, and can’t find work. That’s a damn shame. But you never hear about those people. You know why? Because they don’t complain. They take whatever life gives to them, and they work with it.

So to all the people who are struggling through these hard times, and not complaining about their situation–God speed. Things will get better.

And for all those people, who are fucking dumb, and who’s main occupation seems to be to complain to whatever media outlet will listen to you–I hope you all die in a fire.

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