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Sunday, February 13, 2005

Son of a bitch!

First, let me just warn you that I am pissed the fuck off, so this particular post might be extra salty, if you know what I mean. I have just put in a 14 hour workday, at the end of which, tired and hongry (yes, I did just say "hongry,") I ordered dinner from fucking EJ's (447 Amsterdam, feel free to egg the fuckers)--at 10:15. They told me it would take about 15-20 minutes. Mind you, it's a Sunday, so most places that deliver stop delivering around 10:30 or 11, so I was quite happy that I managed to finish work with time enough to spare to order food. I waited, hongry, for my food. 10:30. And waited. 10:40. And waited. 10:50. It has been an hour. I just called those bitches to find out where the hell my dinner was, and those silly muhfuggahs hung up on me. Now, not believing any place of bidness with good bidness sense would do some shit like that on purpose, I called back. You know those bitches hung up on me AGAIN?!?!? Oh, HELL NO! AND it's after time for me to have anything else delivered? Imma have to go beat some ambiguously-brown ass in the morning, gotdammit. Wooohlawd. Why these bitches gotta fuck wit me nah? When I'se hongry? And been workin' all damn day? That must be why those fuckers don't do credit card deliveries. They reserve the right to FUCKING BLOW OFF THEIR CUSTOMERS WHENEVER THE FUCK THEY FEEL LIKE IT! FUCK! See? See? This shit ain't even what I was gonna blog about. I was gonna blog about the fact that Valentine's Day has snuck up on me again, and how that sucks, because I am Valentine-less. But that don't even matter no more. Maybe I oughta leave EJ's a Valentine. A big, steaming-brown-hot-from-the-factory-Valentine! Oh fuckety-fuck, I can't even blog now. I cannot believe EJ's made me write that shit. Angry face, angry face, grrrr, menace, argh! Curse you, EJ's, and the chariot of lies you rode in on! Update: I called them today to tell them how much I hated them, and they a) said I was probably talking to one of the non-English speaking kitchen workers, b) discovered they wrote my address down wrong and were off by a street, meaning they likely did try to deliver it to somebody else, and c) offered me several apologies and free food. I wasn't expecting that. I don't really want the free food, but I am mollified. See? I can play nice. So don't go leaving flaming bags of shit on EJ's doorstep on my behalf, since I know a bunch of you were fixin' to do just that.

1 Comments:

At 2/14/2005 09:08:00 AM, Anonymous Anonymous said...

Aww HEYLL NAW! Not they DI-INT! GURRL I'd straight up go there and make some nigga pie out of some muhfukkas. Fo real.

Another thing: Don't you HATE it when people make you get ethnic? I mean, really, do they really want that? I shant think they do.

 

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