Well, someone had to pay for Tim Tebow’s hospital bill
[ 1 Comment ] Posted on 09.27.09 in awesomeness, complaints, football
Last Thursday began as any other would: I awoke, went to my classes, ate my (pre-packed and cheap!) bagged lunch, and went to get my ticket for Saturday’s football game with Angus.
As we approached the ticket window, I decided to go to the line belonging to the fellow who had given us our tickets for the week prior. After I gave him our school IDs, though, I regretted trusting him with such an important task. After swiping Angus’ card and printing his ticket, he informed me that because my card wouldn’t swipe, I would have to high-tail it to the student union to get another one before I could have the ticket that I’d already paid for.
“So, they’ll replace it?”
“Yeah, for 15 bucks.”
Wait a second, Johnny Ticketmaster. My ID had never once swiped properly before. I watched you guys. You would try to swipe it on one machine, again on another machine, and then you would break down and enter my student identification number into your magical ticket machine, and I would have my tickets. Heck, I even watched you do it a mere seven days prior!
Upon telling him this, he simply told me to get a new card. No apologies, no explanations for his inability to deal with customers, not even a smile for the fat, hairy guy who was about to speed walk across campus in 300 degree weather.
So, after some choice words for my newfound archenemy, I went. I gave Bernie Machen $15 to replace a card that hadn’t worked since he gave it to me three years ago. I ran back to the ticket office, drenched in Eau de Peterson, gave some new choice words to the incapable one behind the window, and I was on my way.
However, leave it to me to find the silver lining. Though I may have lost $15 and gained a new (terrible) photo on my ID, I apparently have an unused vending account from years ago with $30 still left on it.
Take that, ticket tyrant! My net profit of 15 dollars has foiled your dastardly plan, and the citizens of the UF community can now sleep easier with the knowledge that you aren’t invincible.
The Mets are only 14 games out of the Wild Card
[ No Comments ] Posted on 08.25.09 in baseball, complaints, letters
Another year, another idiot given the opportunity to let his voice be heard in the Alligator.
Oh, I didn’t mean this guy, I meant me.
Billy Mays, we hardly knew ye
[ No Comments ] Posted on 07.08.09 in complaints, observations, television
Well, a couple of weeks have gone by since the King of Infomercials passed on. And you know what? I am pretty well peeved by the fact that the death of this true American hero was overshadowed by the untimely(?) death of some eccentric white woman with an affinity for little boys.
Billy Mays, you deserved better than this. In the wake of Michael Jackson’s trip to the preteen farm in the sky (or, as it were, deep below the ground in the special section of Hell), your passing garnered nothing more than a footnote in the media.
I watched Jackson’s memorial yesterday. Mariah Carey and Lionel Ritchie performed. Thousands flocked to see his gold casket. They closed down a Los Angeles freeway for his funeral procession, for Christ sake. People seem to forget the fact that mere months ago, this dude(?) was a monster in the eyes of society. I know it’s not kosher to speak ill of the dead, but in my defense Michael Jackson looked like he died 15 years ago. His heart was just catching up with the times.
But Billy Mays? There had never been a bad thing to say about this bastion of capitalism. He never slept with children. He was never a weird guy. The closest he ever came to buying a chimp named Bubbles was doing that TV show with Anthony Sullivan. He was just an honest man with a timeless beard that peddled mighty products that helped Americans every single day.
America, you sicken me. Sure, Jackson may have busted a move now and again. But his legacy seems vastly overrated. His music, in my opinion, was all right. But it was nothing compared to the stain-fighting powers of OxyClean, the adhesive abilities of Mighty Mendit, or the absorbency of Impact Gel.
In the end, though, Billy Mays’ celebrity status caught up with him. Because when God called the toll-free hotline for Michael Jackson’s kicking of the bucket, he threw in the passing of a television legend absolutely free. Just paid shipping and handling.