Edge of Toon made sweet love to your mama.
To the best of my recollection, it's been nearly half a year since I last wrote a blog. Lt. Mookman needs a certain amount of fury dwelling within him to get the urge to unleash hell via the typed word. Well a friend helped me to realize that fury and today I return to you with a vengeance!
Here's a scenario I'm sure many of you are familiar with since you are
clearly computer literate enough to have navigated your way to this very page: You are the youngest and most learned man/woman of the technological age that your immediate and extended family is aware of. Someone has a problem with their PC. Probably your grandmother. She, of course, calls upon you for guidance. Being the good offspring of her offspring that you are, you willingly help her out with little visible frustration. As time passes and this becomes a more frequent
occurrence, the pressure of your frustration gasses begin to seep through your every pore and orifice whilst attempting to fix the inconceivably irreparable PC. This inevitably leads to you sending your poor, frail Nana to seek outside council at the merciless hands of a retail computer store.
Enter Staples Business Depot. Satan in the brick.
These motherfuckers have done nothing but prey on the ignorance of the masses from the get-go. I'm not sure what qualities they demand from their prospective employees but if there isn't a checkbox on the application for the prerequisite trait of malevolence on there somewhere I will literally shit in my pants. And not even the pair I'm wearing! I'll go grab another pair of pants, fresh from the dryer, toss
them on the ground at my feet, pull my jeans down to my ankles and shit on the pile of clean pant beneath me.
I've had my own experiences with these bastards but the story that brought this all to the tips of my fingers goes a little something like this:
My friend's boss had a tiny problem with his computer. His shift key had fallen off of his keyboard. Not quite the end of the world but annoying for certain. So Big Bossman hops in his company vehicle and drives to the first place that comes to this poor sap's mind when computers are the issue. Staples Fuckin' Business Depot. He walks though the automatic sliding doorway that are so much like I imagine the gates of hell to be. Shift-key in hand, he pleads to the first
unintelligible foreigner in a red shirt he finds to please reattach this tiny piece of plastic which holds all power over that which is upper-case. What does Captain Redshirt have to say on the matter? This. And I quote. "This is going to be very expensive to fix. You're better off to just buy a new computer."
I honestly think I need not say any more. Fuck you, Staples. Fuck you and all of your heartless, money-grubbing, sadistic, manipulative, immoral, brown-nosing, heinous, tight-black pants wearing, two-faced, schyster employees. Go back to selling computers and sucking cocks in Hell. I'll even give you a mail-in rebate.