WTF?

I do my banking online. I pay all my bills electronically, even my mortgage. I like eliminating the paper and managing my finances digitally. Money transactions are smooth and fast. It cuts out the middle man, the mailman. Fuck envelop licking. And fuck stamps. They keep going up in price, but yet they still taste like shit. Couldn’t 41 cents buy you a hint of mint? Something. I can get a stale bubblegum ball for a quarter. Can’t I get a semi-tasty stamp for 41 cents? Although there is something to say for The United States Postal Service, they have the ability to supply you with anger management tools. Let me explain…

I heart my Razr phone. I couldn’t run my business without my mobile pal. And I’m sure my social life would suffer if I ever left home without her luminescent blue bodied keypad. She’s tucked in my pocket and travels with me from Pittsburgh to NY to DC and occasionally California. I need her. I use her. And apparently I abused her, to the total of $104.12!

I went $50 OVER my Verizon Wireless plan. $50 OVER the normal $50 I already pay monthly. My current balance says I owe OVER $100 for a single month worth or calls! It’s disgusting. Nauseating. I want to smack myself because it’s my own damn fault – talking during peak times, txting to excess, sending photos instead of just using a real camera to snap high quality pics. Stupid boy. What was I thinking?

It’s times like these when I wish my Verizon Wireless bill wouldn’t be just a web link I click on. I want it to be on REAL paper. You know that stuff your parents once used for prehistoric communication. I want to feel the crinkly sheets between my fingertips. I want to crumble and tear all 12 pages (yes, 12 long pages) worth of calls listed on my latest bill statement. I want to rip them into tiny pieces and stomp on the fiber remains. Then light those on fire and let the wind blow the black ash away. Sorry, that sounds like a bit much and a tad violent.

I’m fine, really. I don’t mind paying double for my cell phone bill. I don’t feel the least bit hostile. I’m simply going to print out my bill from this PDF file, glance over it, smile and put it thru my paper shredder. I love the sound of the blades grinding away. Like a monster’s teeth chomping thru its victim’s bones. It’s almost as pleasing to the ear as this little birdie who sings me a springtime melody every morning, at 5AM! FYI to the birdie…it’s still dark out asshole. Go back to sleep!

I’ll pay the f-ing bill, but I don’t have to like it.