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The Fuck Off Rant …

… not mine, but a friend’s.

We all have such a rant. Oh, it’s deep in our heads somewhere but it bubbles to our consciousness from time-to-time. It may even burp into the real world when the poor schmuck got our McDonald’s order wrong or when every phone in the house dies, as happened to me last night.

A mini-“Fuck Off” rant insued:

Whoever decided to pull the power off the main phone base thus killing the phones in the entire house - a problem that turned out to be beyond repair. That person can fuck off.

That person turned out to be the Wife-beast and it was an entirely premature fuck off, because you should be able to plug and unplug the power to your phones without breaking the entire stinking phone system (four phones all electronically and wirelessly tagged to the aforementioned base unit).

So the owners, engineers, manufacturing personnel, sales people, and everyone else that works at Uniden can fuck off.

The person who decided we didn’t need a backup, plug-in-the-wall, tied-to-the-wall, garden variety, circa 1978 phone can fuck off. That person, it turns out, is me.

And the Powers-That-Be that arranged the planets so that the Wife-beast was left out on the road, alone in the middle of the night, in the rain, in my rear-wheel drive, manual transmission, light-in-the-ass-end, truck with one of the two household cell phones—and my 14-year-old daughter at some stranger’s Sweet Sixteen party with the other cell phone and me with no phones and, hence, incommunicado with both of them should either need me—with no time to run and buy a new phone, can fuck off.

Some of us are uncomfortable with our fuck off rants and choose to ignore them. But I bet every single one of us could, give the right prompts, could go off on a huge “Fuck Off” rant (see above) or be stuck in traffic when the last place in the world you can be is stuck in traffic.

For what it’s worth, I think I’m in a unique position on Ray’s “Fuck Off” rant as someone who “expect(s) me to do something (anything) for free—y’all can fuck off” and someone I hope he considers on his “SHORT list of friends.”

For what it’s worth, I ran and bought a phone—several. It wasn’t without stress and time constraints, and buying a goddamned phone should be stress free. I called the Wife-beast several times. Did she answer the phone? No. Maybe she’s in a ditch. Fuck off.

Oh, one final fuck off, the guy at ATT who decided to hardwire the phone cord to the base thus making it totally impossible to attach a longer aftermarket phone cord (which Target placed tantalizingly adjacent to said phone—fuck off, Target) can fuck off.

I know, that was two final fuck offs. Fuck off.

Comments

Natalie said:

Damn. Makes my ranting look like a fuckin' wussy rant.

Posted on Oct 22, 2005 02:12 PM

tanjents said:

fuck off. seriously.

F U C K ..... O F F ! ! !

Posted on Oct 24, 2005 08:05 PM

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