I'll Give You Something Comcastic Alright

I moved into a new place, in the city, just about two months ago. Because I contribute so little to the relationship (hey, who are we kidding?), it's my job to handle the activation of the cable, the phone, and the internet. These are hassles under the best of circumstances, of course, but when I'm involved they tend to turn into fiascoes. And of course, we're neck fucking deep in fiasco right about now.

I <3 teh teevee. So does Baby. We've got three TV's in our two bedroom place. As such, we need some serious cable. When we were shown the place the landlord informed me the building was wired for DirecTV. I was happy, but I figured we'd be better off just getting cable for the internet and television. That was my first mistake, and it was a big one.

I set up appointment after appointment with Comcast. I had a week off during the move, so I had plenty of time to meet the guys that came to set it up. Or so you'd think. The first guy that came out informed me we hadn't been set up yet, so he couldn't do anything. The second guy never showed. At the end of my week off the third guy came out and finally got things up and running, but just barely. The picture on the cable was atrocious, because the signal was so weak. HDTV didn't work at all. And our internet access was incredibly unreliable. But hey, at least I could watch Mason play in the tournament.

I set up our fourth appointment to have the signal worked on. Another no show, and a missed afternoon of work. A week later the fifth guy showed up and explained to me the initial setup was wrong, and they'd have to re-wire from the street to the building to fix the signal. Thankfully that appointment was in the evening, so no missed work. I scheduled the next appointment for a week later (soonest I could get), this time having no choice but take another afternoon off. In the meantime another group was supposed to come out and fix something in the street, meaning I didn't need to be home. OK.

The following week, guy number six (although technically number seven) shows up four hours late. This is an extra bonus, as he got there at 6pm so I didn't need to take an afternoon off after all. He informs me that although our building was scheduled to be re-wired, and the technician filed a report that stated he had completed the work, nothing was actually done. I'd had enough. I thanked the guy and told him that would be all. I called the office and waited on hold for one hundred and three minutes (it's ok, I drank the time away) and canceled my service. No thank you, Mr. Comcast. This was March 21st.

I received a bill in the mail from Comcast yesterday. Apparently my account is past due. Imagine that- they fucked up the cancelation order and they're continuing to charge the account. The letter states, in no uncertain terms, that I will no longer be able to enjoy Comcast cable unless I pay my bill immediately. The total? Four hundred and thirty nine dollars.

I'm writing the check right now. Do you think they will notice that it's signed with the blood of their recently murdered children? I hope so.

I've Tried Nothing And I'm All Out Of Ideas

I envisioned this great comeback post. This heartwrenching, hilarious, comment-inspiring masterpiece that says, "See? This is what you've been waiting for!"
Yeah, not happening. I got nothing.

I miss writing here. I miss the catharsis. I also miss the sense of pride I used to get when I saw how many people were actually reading. I'm not ashamed of that. Should I be? No, definitely not. This isn't a diary. This is written mostly to make people, including myself (well, mostly just myself) laugh. I wasn't doing it for the kids, or the music. I was doing it for the hits. No point in being fucking coy about it.

But with that came the pressure to be funny, to be angry, to be thoughtful. I got to the point where I felt guilty for producing some crappy posts when I didn't have much to say. And then I was SO over it. Days turned to weeks and I had nothing good to say. Hence, silence.

I think I might try a different approach. This time I'm just going to suck and not feel bad about it. I'm going to choose frequency over quality. No more pressure to perform.

So welcome back to my blog, now shittier than ever!