Beardface.

The question was posed to me: "How did your beard get so awesome? I can't grow one, I'm a little jealous."

My beard is a veritable force of nature, as all beards are. Even if you can't grow a PROPER beard, a goatee can be substituted at 70% Manliness. A mustache is also acceptable at 10% Manliness, but only that low because of gay porn...it would be -5% manliness if not for Tom Selleck.

That said, a mans beard is a visual indicator of his ability to fistfight a bear.

This is measured in Beard units. One beard unit means you could take one Grizzly bear in a fight. Two beard units equates to two Grizzly bears, ad infinitum. My beard registers at 4 beard units, while the guys from ZZ Top both register at 23 beard units.

Hand Over Fist

It's not that often that I have something to legitimately rant about in such a way that I'm driven to do so in both verbal and literary form. I'm sure my loving wife has heard gracious plenty about it, and more has gathered a bit extra from my frustrated silence on the drive home from Charlotte, NC.

It didn't start out that bad. We'd planned to drive up to Charlotte from Columbia, SC (about an hour and a half) to go to SouthPark Mall. I had an appointment with a "Genius" (what they call their on-site tech support staff) at the Apple store in that mall (which is the closest Apple store to Columbia) to see about a repair for my out of warranty second generation iPod Touch. The home key had decided to be broken, and I needed to have it's attitude adjusted so it would be subservient to me once more. I made my appointment online for 12:45 on a Saturday, and after walking around the mall for a while to take it all in (which I'll discuss further later) I was seen promptly at 12:45, for which I give the employees credit. Punctuality earns you points in my book.

While making my appointment, I took the opportunity to find out just what I needed to know about going up to see the Geniuses at Apple and what to expect. The following excerpt is taken DIRECTLY from Apple.com:

What should I expect from my appointment?

At the beginning of your session, you’ll be invited to take a seat at the Genius Bar and place your equipment on the counter. The Genius working with you gathers information about your system to resolve your issues and answer your questions. If your product requires repair, the Genius discusses your repair options, explains any applicable charges, and checks in your equipment for repair. Expect the session to last about 15 minutes — more, if the issue requires it.

Having read this, I expected fully that I would be able to take my iPod to the Geniuses and they would take it in a back room, do some sort of magical hocus-pocus voodoo to it and make it back right again, at which time I would jump in the air and click my heels together in modest glee. I was mistaken. VERY VERY mistaken to the point of ire and quiet frustration. I was told the following:

"Basically, what's happened here is the Home key is either stuck or overly sensitive. You can trade it in and we'll give you one of the same model for $140, or you can see the sales staff to turn this model in for recycling and we'll give you 10% off of a new model."

"So what are the options for repair?" I asked calmly, refusing to be swayed.

"I'm afraid there are none. We don't even do repairs here. I suppose you can call and Apple might can do something for you." was his reply.

That kinda frustrated me. I might have been wrong to assume, but I interpreted that including repair options in the "what to expect" section of your FAQ meant that repair options would be included. Silly me. It bears mention that it cost me the better part of half a tank of gas to get up there and back, when it would have cost me $30 to get the call in to Apple which would have told me the same thing (presumably). Steve Jobs, you're a money making Jewish son of a bitch, and I can't hate you for it, but now I'm stuck with a broken iPod that I can do one of two things with: bust it open and try to fix it myself, or pay for somebody to fix it for me at a local shop that may or may not exist.

Despite this foray into the disappointing, the trip wasn't a TOTAL loss. We backed away from our planned late lunch at The Cheesecake Factory because frankly, rubbing elbows with the Charlotte Society's upper crust over good but overpriced food just wasn't sitting well with the spousal unit and me. We instead opted for the food court, which was far more reasonably priced and with the same loud "people talking over one another" atmosphere that you can expect any time you eat out in public...and of course in the food court you're eating with normal people, and I don't have to see overpaid douchebags in expensive shirts with the top two buttons undone and their greased up faux-hawk hairdos (no, dude. You don't look cool, you look like you want to date rape a sorority girl ten years younger than you and hope she never tells).

We hit up the Godiva chocolate shop, which I haven't been to since they closed the one in our local mall here the better part of ten years ago. We spent $20 on truffles that tasted like what you would expect Heaven to taste like if you dipped an existential glop of it in molten chocolate and let it harden. We found a really nice upscale book store up there that puts Barnes and Noble to shame by not having a Starbucks in there, but instead incorporating a wine bar. We even had a book signed by the author (which the wife read all the way home) while we were there.

All in all, it wasn't a bad trip. I enjoyed going out of town for a few hours with the woman I married, got to see what a proper mall should look like as opposed to the rinkydink malls we have around here, and generally enjoyed myself. When all is said and done, really I think I only have one thing to say:

"Fuck you Apple, for your horrible and misleading customer service and FAQ regarding expectations. I hate you now."

Rotten bloody apples, I say.

Designer Breed Mutts?

I just had a lady call in to me at my work, where I earn a living taking classified ads for a local publication that specializes in that type of ad. She wanted to place an ad for her dogs, which she called "Shih-Toos," explaining to me that they were Shih-Tzu and Poodle mix.

I asked her specifically, "what IS a Shih-Too?" She proceeded to tell me about her mixed breed dog (that almost sounds racist, doesn't it?) and that somebody else had told her to sell it as a "designer breed" called a Shih-Too.

I took her ad like a good little employee and suggested to her that she may want to elaborate in her ad about just what exactly a Shih-Too actually is. She asked if that was necessary.

"Ma'am, there are a lot of mixed breed mutt-type dogs out there that are being passed off as designer breeds that don't have actual names. The same type of dog you've just listed has come across my desk as a Shih-Poo, a Shih-Too, and Poo-Tzus. There's no real solid way of naming them, so people have a tendency to make up names with a combination of the two original breeds. It's probably a good idea to let people know what kind of dog it is beyond just the one you gave me."

Meanwhile, my bosses wife heard me and started laughing, apparently thinking I'd called this ladys dog a Shit-Poo.

All things said and done, I got to tell a lady just exactly what I thought about the whole designer dog fad (well-named mutts, anybody?) AND got credit for saying Shit Poo. I win.

Gets That Dough

It bears mention, however briefly, that Blogger has now added a new tab to its dashboard labeled "Monetize," where apparently they've streamlined the process of including ads on your blog. While it's awfully neighborly of them to make it so easy to earn revenue from your mediocre efforts (or at least my mediocre efforts), let me remind you that I WILL NOT be hosting ads on this website at any time in the foreseeable future. For now, I'm not paying for hosting, not paying for a domain, and not paying for any kind of software.

That said, I hope you enjoy your ad-free experience.

Google, you clever bunch.

Continuing disappointment

It's with a great sigh of nervousness that I decide to continue the blogging journey that I started so long ago (back with Awesome Report, which some of you may remember). Of course, I always have something to say (as is evidenced by the fact that I'm always saying something), but I can't imagine that it's always something worth writing.

As flattering as it is to have several people who are both close to me and just acquaintances ask me to start writing again, I can't help but think that I'm just setting myself up for yet ANOTHER failure, which one can only assume would count as not just a second attempt at greater failure but indeed as a fourth attempt, seeing as how the progenitor of this blog failed, then this blog itself failed, and this guy right here hasn't been updated in what we'll call a coons age. However, despite all my reservations about throwing myself headfirst into the blogosphere once again I'll do it, because I've been asked to do it.

There won't be a book this time (and let's be honest...there wasn't a book last time except for that one that I had published myself, and subsequently autographed to myself) and I can't guarantee any of the particular brand of funny that you've all come to expect from me...but I suppose it's worth a shot.

Besides, maybe I'll get a wild hair and decide to market a Greater Failure thong.

Failing at failing

Despite my declaration of earlier failure and indeed, this being the THIRD attempt at what may possibly be an even GREATER failure (one of catastrophic proportions), I've once again thrown my hat into the blogosphere.

I've started a new work-related blog where I chronicle and mock the stupid people of my locality that call to place ads at the place where I'm employed. Doing this, I've decided to see about maybe throwing THIS blog a bone from time to time.

So...keep an eye here as well as at Customer Wit for more me.

Failure Indeed

The revelation that failure comes easy is hardly shocking to me, and the fact that I'm currently in the process of failing drastically at my second attempt at blogging comes as little surprise...particularly because I'm involved in it.

Months have come and gone since my last post, carrying with them Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Years Day, and almost certainly a few more Canadian and European holidays that I'm not even thinking about (quite possibly due to my insensitivity toward other cultures). I've moved from the seedy side of town to next door to the church I grew up in (leading to some particularly interesting internal conflict regarding taking my dog to play in the back yard of the church and yet finding all sorts of fun and creative reasons to leave my favorite spot on the pew conspicuously vacant every Sunday), thrown away all sorts of stuff that got ruined in the rain due primarily due to my laziness (though in all actuality, it's probably a good thing), been turned down for a job that I wanted but couldn't afford to accept, and finally played the nepotism card in an attempt to get a different job that is more likely in tune with my financial needs.

I do all of this, and still my muse doesn't strike me on the head with a mallet as she once did on a regular basis. My free time on my days off (with the exception of recently, due to a spur of activity in unpacking from the recent aforementioned move) is consumed almost entirely by going balls-deep into World of Warcraft, running through a dream world of magic plagued by a nearly endless war (who would have guessed, given the title of the game?) and even taking an active and lead role in a guild of over 150 people. I've been graciously handed a section of the guild's website (which for now can be found here, but I wouldn't at all be surprised to see the domain change sometime soon) with which I can regail the guild members with tales of the one thing I know better than most: Failure against insurmountable odds.

I'm hoping that the spark that fuels my tale-telling there will leave something of itself in my mind and in turn fuel something here. I do so hate to waste this webspace, so I invite you to look at the sad puppy in my banner, and think about things.

Do it for the puppy.
I'ma gonna get dat sternum.