May the designer of the xfinity flex streaming devices bluetooth audio connectivity suffer moments of opprobrium , mild discomfort, and shame for the fucktastically awful, piss poor , shoddy , implementation that leads to a constantly increasing audio delay that makes watching impossible after 5 minutes.
A rapid onset or immediate delay would be ok, something to fix, but what it does is start out ok , then over a period of time , just long enough to think you fixed the issue , start to drift and become impossible to watch.
Fuckers probably did that deliberately.
I’m thinking he’s probably eating his slice of humble pie already. As I have mentioned, I live in a small town out in the sticks. It can get a little boring out here and the amusement we get from out-of-towners taking that road and getting stuck can keep us talking for a week, so of course I didn’t need to go and mock him, the neighbors took care of it!
It took three tow trucks almost four hours to drag his stupid ass and truck out. I’m sure his boss isn’t going to be pleased with the towing bill, or the pic they got. I got a reply to the email asking for more details, answered with the same info I gave here and haven’t heard anything since.
I tried to help him and he got rude. Don’t get rude to bored old women who are trying to be nice, cause if you piss us off we have time to seriously fuck with you.
I have to say that I loved your story, and I’m totally onside with you, which just goes to show that I’m probably more old and crotchety than I had thought!* We are each a Menace to Society! Perhaps my chronological dog years are catching up with me.
I think I know that road. I saw it once in a pleasant old 1953 romp called The Long Long Trailer with Lucille Ball and Desi Arnaz. The upshot of this particular segment is that they ended up completely coated in mud, and the towing and cleanup costs made an impressive total. This marked the point in this exciting chronology where Desi seriously began to sour on the trailer. I hope your trucker enjoyed something similar, especially the mud coating.
* Or maybe it has nothing to do with age. One time in my younger years when I was working at a university, a friend and I drove over to a nearby bank, did our business, and were about to leave. As we were getting into the car, an asshole in an official marked university utility truck roared into the parking lot much too fast, with a screeching of tires, got out in a hurry, and stomped across a nice green lawn in heavy workboots as a shortcut instead of taking the sidewalk.
My friend and I looked at each other, our thoughts so identical that it was as of one mind. This gentleman was obviously stressed, driven by the pressures of life to be in a much greater hurry than was good for his blood pressure. Seeking to alleviate his pressure, both literally and symbolically, and slow him down for his own good, we rounded up some small twigs and inserted each one into the tire valve of each of the tires. Confirming that there was a satisfactory hiss coming from each of the four corners and visible signs of rapid deflation, we left to continue our day, with a sense of justice accomplished.
In other news, as all Canucks will know, yesterday (the second Monday in October) was Canadian Thanksgiving. The extremely early date of Thanksgiving in Canada compared to the US date has always bugged me, but it’s getting more ridiculous with climate change.
With what do we associate Thanksgiving in modern culture? With nippy cooler weather, with the beautiful golden hues of autumn, with the season of mists and mellow fruitfulness, with the holiday season and the approach of Christmas, that’s what. With crackling fireplaces giving warm comfort against the coming winter.
And what did I get right in the middle of Canadian Thanksgiving, our sacred holiday celebrating harvest, the coming of winter, and the coziness of retreating into our warm domiciles? I got the fucking air conditioner turning on, because it was so fucking hot, because it’s just early October, you fucking imbeciles!!
Growing up, if you’re born anytime in the month of October, you inevitably have to do Halloween stuff for your birthday. My default birthday party growing was always just to load everyone up in the van and go to the pumpkin patch and Dad would buy everyone a Halloween pumpkin, then back to the house for cake. There were extremely few years when that didn’t occur. I’m certain I’m not the only October birthday to experience this.
At least you didn’t have to share your birthday month with Mother’s Day. Dad used to move all our bunk beds into the back yard for my Mother’s Day-themed birthday parties, and Mom would make all my friends Breakfast-in-Bed Burgers.
And don’t get me started on the party favors! A dandelion in a Dixie cup? Seriously?
I’ve always felt bad for my oldest daughter who was born 5 days after Christmas. Talk about having your birthday mashed with a major holiday.
The one good thing is that even though I live on the opposite side of the country from her, I usually get to visit her to celebrate both occasions in a single week. And she always gets two full sets of presents. I make sure she’s not shorted on that.
Ugh, I made an oopsie at work today. Dammit. The issue wasn’t that it affected me - it affected an employee. Said employee was tasked with communicating how something worked. We’d come to an agreement on how the thing worked, she’d even fully documented how the thing worked, so I wrongly assumed that the communication accurately described how the thing worked. So I read it quickly (she sends me almost everything she writes, even emails occasionally), looking for typos but didn’t fully vet the content because of the previous assumptions. I assumed wrong. So now we’re sending a clarification.
Which ordinarily wouldn’t be a big deal, but this person is already frustrated in general. So I’m pitting myself for glossing over shit. I shouldn’t have, but ugh - this person asks for my approval to change fields in a report. I guess I need to be better at reading. Oh, well - this’ll give me something to overthink for a few days.
I know I have a small baby and this is assumed but, I am tired yo. I am really effing tired. I don’t get to sleep by myself because I have to nurse the baby. On the weekend, I wake up with the baby and then I wake up with the girl while my husband sleeps in. I occasionally get naps on the weekends but, working full time, I don’t get them during the week. I am just really fucking tired.
I have 2 daughters. I know your pain. My first kid would not sleep by herself for months. I do not miss those days.
Someday your baby will sleep through the night and ooh boy that will be wonderful. It will be like coming out of the hot sun to drink a cold glass of ice water, or the feeling when you finally take off a heavy backpack. It will come.
I wish my boobs could be transferred to my husband for one night. Let him take on nursing the baby while I literally sleep on my face like a dead person. (He really does sleep on his actual face like he’s dead or something. I have no idea how he does it.)
Last time I had to self-checkout (all the real lanes were closed), of course it goes wrong. When the attendant came over I told her that they didn’t train me before making me a cashier. She didn’t get the joke.
