ATwit&Twat Vs T-Fucking-Mobile; The Loser’s Bracket


So. I’ve been home from BlogCon2011 for your basic week and I haven’t gotten a single fucking thing fully completed. This would include—but not be limited to—writing all the stories about my trip, preparing for the holidays, down-winding from the trip, getting some serious sexing, training the animals to behave themselves to my level of desired correctness, and catching up on my psycho therapy sessions.

I’m certain that a sane man would be able to tell you which of the aforementioned unfinished tasks would provide the most frustrations but I can’t even focus enough to determine which bothers me most. OK, having said that, a sane man would neither have that many pieces of unfinished business nor would he allow several of those items to even approach the category titleed “unfinished”[.]

Add to that the fact that my main webber page is out of date, I still don’t have a Bloggie Roller linkster to my book, and I’ve spent so much time with my Ivory soap that last night—in the throws of self-inflicted passions—I proposed to the freshly unwrapped bar of 99-and-44-one-hundredths-percent pure love clenched in my left hand. To provide you some clarity, my pecker was clenched in my right hand at that particular moment of passion. OK, in actuality I had neither Ivory soap bar nor pecker clenched, as I self-love with the same tender endearment as I would a woman.

Today, I need to do all of my T-giving food shopping and get home before one pm because the Amazon guys are calling me to discuss the trailer advertisement for my book. The first thing we’ll be discussing is why they call it a trailer as this doesn’t follow anything. Nobody who sees the trailer will have already read the book and at thirty-seconds of length, whatinthefuck can they say that will get a person’s interest anyway.

It’s like when I was up to Murfreesboro, Tennessee with BJ last week watching football on TV. Bill’s got this nifty dealie on his cable system called NFL Red Zone. At least I think it’s called NFL Red Zone. They flip between games to show every score and scoring opportunity when a team gets to the opposition’s twenty yard-line. Should that have been twenty-yard line, or maybe twenty-yard-line?

Not only did they switch between games, and quickly at that, they would often have multiple games on screen in separate boxes. BJ told me it took awhile to be able to grasp the visuals without confusion. I found myself right to home immediately. From now on, when someone asks me to describe a little bit about how my ADHD-addled brain works, I’ll tell them to turn on the NFL Red Zone, increase the volume to 85% and then invite the family to all speak to you at the same time.

I found NFL Red Zone to be relaxing.

There was a commercial break on TV, and BJ was telling me that commercials can be problematic for him. He thinks about the first commercial and it’s message after the second commercial starts, and people are always interrupting his thoughts when they comment on the second commercial before that one is even finished. I can’t even imagine how a person can focus their attentions through an entire thirty-second advertisement for T-fucking-Mobile, much less how that concentration can remain locked when the next ad is for Hooters.

But as I’ve said before, BJ is one of those rare people who possess extraordinary focus and intelligence. And I hate T-fucking-Mobile. That’s my current cell phone carrier, a contract Gnat negotiated when I got pissed at ATwit&Twat, our last asswipe phone operating system. ATwit&Twat had all of these hidden charges that pissed me off, and T-fucking-Mobile is even worse. I don’t do texting, and I won’t do texting. Fuck texting and texters alike.

Leave me a fucking voice message asshole, or leave me the fuck alone. I am not impressed that you send me a message when you should be doing something else. I don’t give a shit if you’re in a meeting and you need to pee or if you’re driving down the interstate and traffic is terrible. Anything you want to say to me by text is something I don’t want to know.

I… don’t… give… a… rat’s.. fucking… ass!

But guess what. Even though I have no capability to send texts on my T-fucking-Mobile phone plan, people can still send me texts. And when I get the message notice on my phone and accidentally open a text, those mother fuckers at T-fucking-Mobile charge me fifty-cents!

Asshole right-wing Republican rat fucker shitwad T-fucking-Mobile.

That is one of the reasons I cuss so much. Take those last six paragraphs and remove any words you think are cuss words. Then replace the fucks and shits with your own words and see what you have. Convince me that you can replace my cusses and express my intentions with precision.

If I ever get the book ad trailer finished I’ll try to post it here. Meantime, go the the linkster for the book and look at the sales stuff sans trailer. Click to:

Ugh. I need to find a better marketing tool than simply giving you a linkster and then begging you to buy the fucking book.

Which reminds me. Would somebody go over there to Amazon and do a review for me. I don’t care if you’ve read it and I don’t care if you say anything bad or good about it. It just hurts my feelings that nobody has said anything and that temps me to start writing my own reviews.

“I found Full Rising Mooner to be the biggest waste of money and time since they sold tickets on the Titanic,” or, “Full Rising Mooner is the best read of the fucking year,” would make two great reviews. Actually the only thing funnier than nobody reviewing the book would be if nobody bought it.

I’m cracking a Carta Blanca beer before I go shopping. Manana, y’all.

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8 Responses to “ATwit&Twat Vs T-Fucking-Mobile; The Loser’s Bracket”

  1. Squatlo says:

    Okay, this Red Zone thing is for people who have multiple personalities, not ADHD. And ADHD sounds like some of the channels on my hi-def package. Now I’m finding some of them appear as a split screen, and BJ says that’s because they’re actually in 3D. Then a commercial came on to say 4G was way better than 3G (well, duh!) and I got confused with 3D’s and 3G’s… and the screen was still split in two vertizontal rectagonacles… (I flunked geometry, by the way)

    I’d like to leave a comment review on Amazon about your book, but I have to finish it first. Saying wonderful or spiteful things about a book I haven’t actually finished would make about as much sense as expecting this Super Committee thing in Congress to actually get something resolved. It ain’t over ’til Rosanne sings, and she’s not even at the mike yet.

    I’m probably the only adult in America who owns a cell phone and has never sent, opened, or read a fucking text message. I delete them as fast as they arrive, unread. If you take the time to dial my number and I have to get some tone that lets me know you’re trying to tell me something, the least you can do is fucking be on the phone when I answer it… What’s next, Morse Code? We gonna start sending smoke signals? Why not just hook up a string between two soup cans and yell at one another?
    I’m outta here.

  2. Squat. OK, first, that’s waaaayyy too fucking much information re: The Red Zone. You’ve managed to confuse me and I thought I had that one all straightened out.

    Second, fuck the super committe and fuck Rick Perry too. Hell, fuck everybody who holds a differing opinion than mine and on any subject. OK, I guess since everybody disagrees with me on something, fuck everybody, everywhere.

    Wait. Sometimes I change my mind, which means I disagree with myself. So fuck me too!

    Third, I’m all for going back to stone tablets. If it isn’t worth the time to quarry a stone, then mine some iron ore for a chisel… it isn’t worth repeating.

  3. melanie says:

    I was super tempted to go ahead and post a review, but I know that somehow or another it will come back to bite me in the ass. I am downloading the book on FRIDAY. I FUCKING PROMISE THIS TIME. After I read it (which should not take me long – not because I think it will suck, but because I have a feeling it will suck me in and I won’t be able to put it down, mind you…) I FUCKING PROMISE to write you a review. For reals.

    Also, I like me some football, but I think that NFL Red Zone might make my head explode….just like it did this past Sunday when I found out that one of the networks – ESPN I think…I am not sure because my husband was being all bipolar with the channels – has a whole segment about Tim Tebow. Have you ever noticed that they can’t just call him Tebow…I also have a theory that the announcers get paid every time they say his whole name. OH, and I can’t stand him. I get a little pissed off about the fact that he was homeschooled. Here is one more reason to not like him… OK, did you catch that?

  4. admin says:

    Mel. Thanks for the future download. I can’t stand when any athelete credits God or Jesus for his success. They take attempt to diminish the value of talent and hard work.

    Fuck Tim Tebow.

  5. Squatlo says:

    Here’s a video for Melanie concerning John Oliver’s hatred for Tim Tebow:

    You know, when you see players genuflecting in the end zone after making a routine catch any Pop Warner ten year old could have made, or when you hear rappers accepting a Grammy for “Suck My Mother Fucking Cock, Bitch” by thanking Jesus for granting him the talent to write and record such a masterpiece, you have wonder who the hell they’re talking to? Their mothers?
    I don’t believe in a supreme being, unless you count Stevie Ray Vaughan playing “Lenny” at El Macambo, but I’m pretty sure if there IS a God, she isn’t up there deciding the outcome of individual plays in football or the Grammy Awards. If you had disease, death, famine, tsunamis, earthquakes, and Vatican pedophilia on your plate, would you worry a whole hell of a lot about whether the Saints beat the Dolphins after Sunday Mass breaks up?
    The sanctimonious piety of these thumpers and posers makes chunks of salsa rise up to the back of my throat. Fuck Rick Perry, Tim Tebow, and just about everyone else on Mooner’s shit list.
    And if you haven’t heard Stevie Ray Vaughan playing “Lenny”, here you go:

  6. admin says:

    Squat. It’s precisely 3 pm and the two dogs are driving crazy to feed them. I had something smart and ubane to say about religous sports fucks, but it’s now left the building without comment.

    So, fuck ’em all.

  7. Granny Ook says:

    I have been lurking around here for a while, usually laughing my asterisk off, but not commenting because I am a VERY boring person. (I have the opposite of ADD- Aspergers.) I don’t get text messages on my cell because I got customer service at Virgin Mobile to block incoming texts. T-Mobile can probably do that too. Of course, they probably don’t WANT to do it, ’cause those 50-cent charges can add up, but it might be worth-while to have Gnat harass T-Mobile’s customer service until they agree to block the text messages. Or switch to Virgin Mobile.

  8. admin says:

    Granny O. Thanks for lurking and thanks for finally speaking out. I like your idea of switching to a virgin. It’s been awhile but I think I can still remember.

    But we got this “great” deal with our bulk purchase of phones and minutes and there are still months to go on the contract. Lacking any other legitimate option, please allow me to say, and with gusto, “Fuck T-fucking-Mobile. And fuck Prick Perry!”

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