First off, fuck you Larry. Fuck your pissy moving company, named after an animal that begins with two "A"s.
Fuck alphabetization, which brought this cocksucker into my life. Fuck the Yellow Pages, who alphabetized said moving company numbers, causing Larry’s number to fall easily to my fingertip.
Bastard stood me up to not once, but twice this weekend to move the contents of my 10x30 storage shed into my new home! Never even called! He knew he had me by the short and curlies Saturday night, when he mouthed off to me, then offered to move me Sunday morning. Then stood me up again!
Oh, and fuck the calendar, for causing my move to fall at the end of the month, making it impossible for me to rent an appropriate moving truck. Or get backup movers. Or postpone it until next weekend, as they already rented my storage shed out from under me.
And by the way Larry, when me and my friend were moving every stick of furniture from said storage shed, I saw all the damage your crew of cocksuckers did to my furniture when you moved it into the shed a month ago.
MFS- Unfortunately, our contract consisted of “Uuuuuh, I can move you Saturday”. Not much there.
Apotheosis- Those fucking SHR cartoons always bugged me. I’m six, for Christ’s sake… I have no earthly idea what the hell an adverb is, much less what I should do with it!!!
Abe Babe- When I ask Macro Ma’am for nookie, she keeps repeating the letter between X and Z.
This whole thing’s my own damned fault, really, but that won’t stop me from blaming everyone besides myself. Should’ve gove with someone more credible.
I have a different outlook on it today. I saw all my friends and family give up their Sunday on short notice, rally together, and get me moved into my new home. Dropped $150 on a nice Tex-Mex lunch for previously mentioned people. Took the extra $250 I saved and put it into my kid’s savings account this morning.