mychai's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- JP's getting screwed left and right!!! In the broadest sense of the phrase, I have had sex three times in the past month. In other words, I keep getting screwed. And it ain't the sweet ghetto lovin' that I wish I was getting. Nosiree. I keep bending over, touching my toes, and getting Bejeezus Fucked. The first time was when I was flying Delta to go home. I called twice to make sure it was OK to bring dogs. They said, "Oh, yeahhhhh. That's fine, white boy. Come bring your dog on our airplane. See how much we love it." Great! That was the reason I was going to fly Delta, because they let me take dogs on the airplane. I get to the airport, stand in line for about 45 minutes -- which puts me late at boarding my plane -- and get my ticket. And then, the smiling attendant says with the cheeriest voice around, "And that'll be $75 for a pet charge." "Bull fucking shit," I said with a smile. Actually, I said, "No one told me there would be a pet charge." Then Moron said, "Well, there is. And if you want to go home, you will pay me $75. You do want to go home, don't you?" Mutherfuckingpieceofnogoodshitassholeratbastardpieceofshit. "What was that, sir?" he asked with a less cheery voice than he had a few seconds ago. This is what getting screwed is like, boys and girls. "I said, no one told me about that. I will pay, but I expect a refund." Oh, I forgot to tell you that Moron looked at Daisy's crate and approved it and gave me the right sticker things to put on it. He then took my credit card, entered it in, and told me that it had been denied. Well, she-it. I then told him to enter it again just in case. He didn't like this suggestion one bit. I was about to take him around back and give him the whack. I would have if I would have worn my super kewl Sopranos suit. Sure 'nuff, Moron entered in my credit card number in wrong. "Oh. Lookee there. It was aproved." "Yeah... That's what I thought." Then, just as I was about to board the plane, some woman was running after me. She said, "Moron didn't catch the size of your crate. It is 2" too big. You have to buy one of our over-priced boxes for $30 if you want to go home. And you do want to go home, don't you?" Mutherfuckingpieceofnogoodshitassholeratbastardpieceofshit. "What was that?" I told her she knew what she heard. I then extended out my credit card... AGAIN... and that was $105 I spent -- exactly half of my airplane ticket home -- in a matter of 10 minutes. Screwed twice in 10 minutes! It's a BRAND NEW JP RECORD!!! Now, jump to today. Like I have told you in the past, I am starting school again. Full time. So, I don't have time to go to the gym and work out and look all super hot and sexy. It's too much work, and frankly, I don't think anyone is noticing. So, I go by my gym -- Club Woodrail -- and I sign the sheet of paper you have to sign to cancel my membership. I thought it was to be an OK experience because they have all been nothing but nice there. But I sign the sheet, give it to the desk girl, and she pops out, "Ok. Your membership will be cancelled in three months." "Huh?" That's the proper response to the first signs of getting screwed. You'd think it would be more along the lines of, "Oh..." And "Mmmm. I like that." Because "getting screwed" is supposed to be a really great thing. But nope. It sounds a lot more like: Mutherfuckingpieceofnogoodshitassholeratbastardpieceofshit. "Yeah. That's our policy. It should have been pointed out when you first signed up." "Well, it wasn't, you pointy-nosed nasty ho." I then asked, with much sarcasm, what process took three months to complete when it was instantaneous for me to sign up. "Nothing takes three months. It's just our policy." I thought about reminding her that I work at a television station, thus I work with a lot of people from the public. I have said many nice things about Woodrail, but now it would end. I will now tell them that you screw people out of money. Your gym is just a big scham. And you grow pot out back. That last part's a lie. Plus, I think it would attract business. Just imagine the ads for that... "$48 a month for all the pot you can smoke!" Jeez... The concession stand would boom with business, people would be skinny as poles, and the social scene would be sa-weet. Damn. You keep me on for three months after I cancel that memborship, and I would praise your name on high. Get it? hehe I think I may be coming down with something. While I was at MBS Textbooks, I started sneezing. Now, I am coughing like a crack-addicted prostitute. I hope I'm not getting sick. That's all I friggin' need right now. Maybe God's jumping on the "Let's get JP" bandwagon.. Yeah... that'd be funny, wouldn't it? Mutherfuckingpieceofnogoodshitassholeratbastardpieceofshit. 3:25 p.m. - 2001-08-16 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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