Stupid Streaks and other madness.

I tell you what. Stupid runs in streaks. What I mean by this is as a customer service representative, I handle all kinds of phone calls 5 days a week. The ones that kill me are the idiots that cannot read what is displayed on their computer screens.

"Mommy, please hold my hand."

When setting up someone's email address for the first time in Outlook Express, it hurts my head to wrap myself around the concept that someone simply cannot read "Click next to continue."

I am by no stretch of the imagination the smartest person on Earth, but I take the time to learn how to use the equipment I am working with. How can a computer programmer not know how to do something basic with a computer? How can a racecar driver not know how to check the oil for their family car? How can a consumer not know how to use something they purchase? Thanks to nanny rules provided by our government, our children are learning that it is acceptable to be lazy, and parents are conditioned to be their childs friend not a parent.

People, I know that I dont have many followers and I know that most of them share my opinions, but seriously. Discipline your children, teach them something useful in life. Do not let them coast along following the crowd, this is what your elected officials want so that they can stay in power.

As for your computer.... its your fucking responsibility to fix your computer. do not call and bitch at me because you cant determine that the blue power light on the front of your tower is not bright, your computer is turned OFF. and the little green or orange right on your "tv" is the power light for your fucking Monitor. If it is orange, it means that your 'tower' is turned off... Get it yet?

Also while I am at it... While I do NOT want to hold your hand step by lousy step while we set up little Timmy's email so he can have a Myspace account. I still want you to follow fucking instructions. If I ask you to go to www.(fucking idiot).com, that means I want you to go to that website.. not to your fucking soap-opera journal.

Also, beat your kids or something. stuff them in a closet. You called me for help, put your little shitlings outside or something... I dont feel like listening to you yell at them when I am trying to help you. Or at least wait until they are in bed before you call.

Oh well.. you'll probably read this, ignore it, and go on eating your McFatty's with your Diet Cola, lugging your fat hips into your $60K suv, driving your kids down the block to their friends because they are too fat themselves to walk 60 feet. Hope you the best and die soon. kkthxbai