Wednesday, December 28, 2005

Fuck you, Comcast

  • You may or may not have noticed that no one is really working this week. For those of us who are required to clock in, it is supposed to be an easy week.
    Knowing this, I volunteered to work the early shift all this week for my benevolent employer. I did this because working the early shift in a throwaway week is the perfect excuse to work from home. All I had to do was roll out of bed, click on the computer and go. Simple.
    That worked Tuesday. I was able to make tea at my leisure, snacks were easily accessible, and I was able to spend the day in comfy sweatpants*.
    But this morning, I rolled out of bed and my Internet connection was spinning. After restarting twice, I came to the painful decision that I had to magically be at work in about nine minutes. In a flurry of profanity, I was able to get dressed, make a lunch and drive seven miles to the headquarters of my benevolent employer in 20 minutes. Then I got to spend the day sitting at my worker pod, unshowered and forced to listen to Löwenbräu talk about his Christmas.
    I was so full of rage that I actually fired off a complaint e-mail to Comcast, even though I know that massive corporations don't give a damn about customer service.

  • You know what Dublin needs? More Americans.
    Well, fear not, Dubliners, the child bride and I will be there for five days in March. Rachel is attending a conference and I am coming along because they have beer there. Also, I will have just turned 30 when we get on the plane, so the trip is a sort of birthday present to me.
    As an added bonus, I get to take part in cheesy conference-related activities. For example, a literary pub crawl.
    "Professional actors will meet the group and bring them to a selection of Dublin's famous literary pubs and other renowned locations where the actors will perform comical excerpts from works by Joyce, Beckett, Behan, Oscar Wilde and many more," says the conference literature.
    Comical excerpts from James Joyce? I suppose if incomprehensibility is funny, he is hilarious.

    *What is the British word for sweatpants? I'm talking about these.

    Anonymous said...

    Well, if you're looking for a name, Bing from

    is a blogger from Dublin. So maybe he can give you a heads-up for the town around that time. I know he's a big fan of the occasional tipple, so there might be something there...

    Ryan said...

    When they say "professional actors", do they mean, like, local theater actors or do they mean, like, Colin Farrell? Or Ardal O' Hanlon at the very least.

    Jenny said...

    The boy and I call them 'trackie bottoms', and wearing them is grounds for divorce. It's in our prenup.

    Christopher Phin said...

    'Trackie bottoms' is, of course, from the patois of our collective youth. 'Tracksuit bottoms' is more strictly accurate.

    Anonymous said...

    synonym for sweatpants: very bad taste indeed (if out of house or seen by others)

    Curly said...

    Yup, 'Trackie bottoms' or 'Joggers' in my neck of the woods.

    TotallyHappened said...

    Joyce isn't funny?

    Chris Cope said...

    Charlotte -- Having only read half of "Ulysses" and then giving up in frustration, perhaps I'm not the best person to ask. But I can't think of any hilarious vignettes one could pull from the book.

    Crystal said...

    Awwwl, British-isms are so cute. Well have fun in Dublin, the emerald isle is a place I definitely want to get to one day.

    Anonymous said...

    Seen in the Minneapolis/Saint Paul Airport New Years weekend:

    An ad with the following slogan--

    "Pubs. Sunblock for the Irish."

    Lucy said...

    Oh dear. I've only just seen this and am scandalised. Ireland has more than beer you know! It has bad weather and limestone too. Also if you're looking for hilarious Joyce, try the Collected Letters. That has some funny shit*.

    *Pun. Bad one.