The Blacklist

Is Tom Cruise for real? Nobody can really be this stupid can they?

This is literally painful to watch, and my pity for the embarrassment that Mr. Cruise brought upon himself is substantial - and I don't pity anyone..

Link

Watch for yourself, if you dare.

Scar

If your man calls you insecure, ask him what he's doing wrong then.

Love,
Lynx

My Ass.....

To elaborate a bit, I was trying to install a new program on the computer that I require for work. Well for some reason, everytime I tried to open the program it decided that it wanted a password. HELLO, I NEVER SET IT UP WITH A PASSWORD!!!!

So anyways, I decided to call Customer Support, what a mistake! After waiting 15 minutes or so on hold, might I add here with the worst funeral march music I ever heard in my damn life, I decided to chat with my friend "Lynx". Well, her and I were chatting away, while I had the phone pressed against my ear, where's handsfree when you need it?

Let me make this clear, this music could've made the Dalai Lama want to commit suicide, it was that bad!

Anyhow, back to my point, poor Lynx had to put up with my bitching and moaning for at least 90 minutes while I sat on hold listening to this crap. This waiting did absolutely nothing to improve my nasty temperment or my ever increasing migraine.. They finally answered the damn phone after I believe 97 minutes (my phone does have a timer thingy - but not handsfree).

The conversation went something like this:

"Idiot at Tech Support" - You have no working? I fix - no worry..

Oh this is going to be fuckin great I'm thinking to myself..

Me - Why is the software asking for a password, when I never had, nor do I want it passworded?

"IATS" - you no setup that way?

Me - ummm no! I never set it up that way.

"IATS" - one minute please.

Me - oh fuck here we go again, start funeral procession music again...

- still waiting

- still waiting

"IATS" - hello, you still there?

Me - oh yeah I'm still here, I have a vested interest now.

"IATS" - you reinstall (at least that's what I thought he said"

Me - I've uninstalled and reinstalled it twice already to ensure that the setup is correct.

"IATS" - I fix no worry.

Me - well then tell me how to fix it already, I have had this phone to my ear for over an hour and a half now, and my migraine is now reaching debilitating levels. God help me, I'm going to kill someone...

Anyways, it finally got worked out I think after about 115 minutes on the phone, but my point is:

If you are hiring people to answer the phone in North America, do you not think it prudent to hire people who possibly speak some English?

How can you call it customer service/tech support etc. etc. if you make people wait that long. If you know your product is shit, at least hire enough English speaking operators to handle that "high volume of calls" that you are experiencing.

And finally, yes I would be more than happy to fill out your damn survey, so that I can tell you what a bunch of morons you are. Not that it would make a bit of difference, but I might feel just a little better.

This is an old picture, but I just now saw it. It came from this site with this article:



Feb 26, 2007

Retired model-turned-talk show host Tyra Banks stunned fans during a recent taping of her hit daytime show by asking to grope American Idol star Katharine McPhee's breasts.

The two ladies were chatting about plastic surgery when probing Banks asked the singer if reports about her getting breasts implants were true.

McPhee insisted her boobs are all natural, and when Banks asked, "Can I touch them?" the Idol star let her.

And the touch test proved conclusive for Banks. She yelped, "They're real."

I don't follow any of this shit, but this picture of Tyra Banks (34) and Katherine McPhee (23) absolutely cracks me up.

That is all,

Lynx

What state and what city doesn't matter you nosy stalking fuckers, you know they're the same everywhere. I just called them. It's all automated.

To hear this menu in English press one. To hea...

One.

Please press one to file your claim. Press two if you were told to call this number to file your claim. Press three if you filed your claim and were told to call this number. Press four if you were told to call this number after you filed a late claim. Press star to repeat this menu.

Four.

Please hold for the next available representative.

A pause.

You are the one thousand four hundred and sixty second person on hold. To prevent you from waiting longer than necessary, we suggest you use our website to file your claim or try your call again later. This call will now disconnect.

A click.

I look at my cell phone, dumbfounded. The automated service hung up on me. Bastards. I hit redial. Four times. Four repeats of this bullshit. Whaddya know, five is my lucky number!

Please hold for the next available representative.

A pause.

Elevator music. A nasty polka and disco hybrid.

Minutes pass.

More minutes. Ten. Fifteen. Oh no, I've reached dolka stage, I dare not hang up now.

Your call is very important to us. To limit your time on hold, please select one of the following options. If you're unemployed because you love dealing with this automated service, press one. If you're unemployed because you're a lazy welfare recipient, press two. If you're on hold because you really have this little of a life, press three. If you're waiting to speak to a representative for the next 45 minutes, press four.

Four.

Four.

Four.

Four.

FOUR.

FOUR!

FOURFOURFOURFOUR!!!

Elevator music.

Jesus!

Minutes pass. More minutes. Ah fuck it. I’ll cut this long, boring, ridiculous story short. She answers.

This is __________(fill in any foreign sounding name here.) *Unintelligible language* How may I help you?

I tell her who I am, and what I'm calling for as I couldn't care less who she is or whatever else she said. All that matters to me at this point and every other point is what she can do for me.

She puts me on hold. Only she doesn’t. I sit here listening to her breathe. She questions me about every little detail regarding my claim, from why I’m filing so late to why I hadn’t been filing all this time. She asks me about school, telling me she’ll resend me a school form that needs to be filled out, that I already filled out. I start to get a bit agitated here. I’m pretty sure she didn’t even realize it. She puts me on non-hold hold again. Her breathing quickens. She’s either about to have an orgasm or a revelation. She speaks.

These checks will be reissued.

This is the bottom line of the story, you know. But now I’ll tell you, I’ve had to repeat everything this woman has said to me back to her to ensure I’ve gotten it correct. This is an unemployment office in the STATES. The United States, by God. Here, we speak English as a first language. I’m pretty sure English wasn’t even this woman’s second language. Or third. I haven’t even a clue what nationality she was. That’s how far from my language she spoke.

This happens all the time anymore, and I now realize why some of us have trouble finding jobs. Well, those of us that are actually looking anyway. Because they’re all taken by non-English speaking foreigners. I almost demanded she give the phone to someone who speaks English as a fourth language. They'd have to be more comprehensible.

Before you start all the snippy shit about my opinion on the lack of jobs in our country, my hatred of automated telephone services, my dislike for trying to deal with English-butchering foreigners, or the fact that I’m unemployed, save it. That’s my advice to you. Save it. I was busting my ass to support welfare recipients and the rest of the vagrants that litter our streets. Little homeless fuckers, begging for change to buy their booze, crack cocaine, and porn. Parading about our streets in their filthy, dumpster looted clothing with 'Will Work for Food' signs. I’d actually buy one of them a cheeseburger to clean my house if I knew I wouldn’t get robbed blind.

Gotta keep my porn stash safe.

But that’s another tirade, for another time.

Most Sincerely,
Lynx

Welcome to our new home, I'm lovingly referred to as "Red Scarlett".

"Scar" is the other part of the duo that started this blog, and my reasons are quite similar to those of "Lynx". The only difference being that I want to help her to become "Ruler of the World". Why wouldn't I want to be ruler myself you may be thinking? Well first and foremost, I'm too lazy to really work that hard, secondly, Lynx knows where to send the royalty checks.

Since we appear to be quoting songs in our intros, here's the skinny:

---

Folks
I'd like to sing a song about the American Dream
About me
About you
About the way our American hearts beat way down in the bottoms of our chests
About that special feeling we get in the cockles of our hearts
Or maybe below the cockles
Maybe in the sub-cockle area
Maybe in the liver
Maybe in the kidneys
Maybe even in the colon
We don't know

I'm just a regular joe
With a regular job
I'm your average white
Suburbanite slob
I like football, and porno, and books about war
I've got an average house
With a nice hardwood floor
My wife, and my job
My kids, and my car
My feet on my table
And a Cuban cigar
But sometimes that just ain't enough
To keep a man like me interested
Oh no, no way, uh uhh
No, I gotta go out and have fun
At someone else's expense
Oh yeah, yeah yeah, yeah yeah yeah

I drive really slow
In the ultra-fast lane
While people behind me are going insane

I'm an asshole
(he's an asshole, what an asshole)
I'm an asshole
(he's an asshole, such an asshole)

I use public toilets
And I piss on the seat
I walk around in the summer time sayin', "How about this heat?"

I'm an asshole
(he's an asshole, what an asshole)
I'm an asshole
(he's the worlds biggest asshole)

Sometimes I park in the handicapped spaces
While handicapped people
Make handicapped faces

I'm an asshole
(he's an asshole, what an asshole)
I'm an asshole
(he's a real f**king asshole)

Maybe I shouldn't be singin' this song
Ranting and raving and carrying on
Maybe they're right when they tell me I'm wrong...
...NAAAHHHHH!

I'm an asshole
(he's an asshole, what an asshole)
I'm an asshole
(he's the world's biggest asshole)

You know what I'm gonna do?
I'm gonna get myself a 1967 Cadilac El Dorado Convertable
Hot pink!
With whale skin hub caps
And all leather cow interior
And big brown baby seal eyes for headlights
YEAH!
And I'm gonna drive around in that baby
At 115 miles per hour
Getting one mile per gallon
Sucking down Quarter Pounder cheeseburgers from McDonalds in the old-fashioned non-biodegradable Styrofoam containers
And when I'm done sucking down those grease-ball burgers
I'm gonna wipe my mouth with the American flag
And then I'm gonna toss the Styrofoam containers right out the side
And there ain't a Goddamn thing anybody can do about it
You know why?
'Cause we got the bombs, that's why!
Two words:Nuclear F**kin' Weapons
Okay!?
Russia, Germany, Romania
They can have all the Democracy they want
They can have a big Democracy cake walk
Right through the middle of Tienemen Square
And it won't make a lick of difference
Because we got the bombs
Okay!?
John Wayne's not dead
He's frozen!
And as soon as we find a cure for cancer

We're gonna thaw out "TheDuke"
And he's gonna be pretty pissed off
You know why?
Have you ever taken a cold shower?
Well, multiply that by 15 million times
That's how pissed off "The Duke"'s gonna be
I'm gonna get "The Duke"
And John Cassavetes
And Lee Marvin
And Sam Peckinpah
And a case of whiskey
And drive down to TexasAnd-
(Hey, Hey! You know you really are an asshole)
Why don't you just shut-up and sing the song, pal?
You know, the whole time I thought I was that asshole
And it turns out it was him
What an asshole!

I'm an asshole
(he's an asshole, what an asshole)
I'm an asshole
(he's the worlds biggest asshole)

A - SS - HO - LE!
Everybody!!
A - SS - HO - LE!

I'm an asshole and proud of it!
Song by my hero – Dennis Leary

---

Change a few he's to she and this is me, the only other change I might add would be to the title – in order to fully epitomize my personality it should be called "I'm a redneck asshole".

Lynx and I have a lot in common, except for the girly shit, that is all her. I like trucks, bush bars, guns, sports cars and being outside. I love camping, fishing, boating, and drinking with my boys.

I have a 4x4 truck with a bush bar, and I love mud bogging. I've also been told "I clean up real nice".

Since we covered what I like already, here's what I hate (condensed version):

People

Stupidity

4 Door Cars

Romantic Comedies

Romance Novel

Fabio

Phones

Asshole Drivers

Old Drivers

Toll Booths

Red Lights

Liars

Soap Operas

And mostly People.

Anyways, this shit is cutting into my nap time, welcome & I'm sure we'll see ya all soon.

Her screen name is Lady Lynx, but you can call her Lynx. It’s shorter, and easier for simple minds to remember.

Lynx is part of the duo that started this blog, but maybe her reasons differ as to why. Lynx hopes to share her accumulated wisdom with the rest of the world. Here, you’ll find her brutally honest opinions on anything and everything you can imagine. In fact, if you have a topic you’d like to hear from her about, feel free to contact her at the.lady.lynx@gmail.com.

Some bits about her
She believes in loving one another and giving back to the community. She volunteers frequently at homeless shelters and feeds stray children. Ginger kids are her favorite. She loves Jesus and America too. She’s a good girl, crazy about Elvis. She loves horses and her boyfriend too.

Now I'm free... Freee Faaallllin..

That was really rough to write. If you really believe any of that B.S., I'm not your type of chick. Sorry.

Moving on.

She does love horses though, and other animals. She loves fuzzy toesocks, fingerless gloves, gothic clothing, purple ink, and classical music in the shower. She’s a fluffy girly-girl with flowery mats in her car.

She sleeps with the television on and has a black bed canopy. She’s an atheist. Her hobbies include cemetery art, photography, go-go dancing, and building things out of pop tabs. Her favorite colors are green and black, but she wears and decorates in hot pink. She loves drama and horror movies but hates westerns and science fiction. Her lifelong dream is to be Ruler of the World. Just wait.

Lynx is abrasive and cruel. She’s opinionated and rude and never censors her words. She always says “The best part of being me is that I’m not you". She’s a realist.

She hates stupidity; it runs rampant. She also cannot stand children, telemarketers, liars, cowards, and people who are mean to animals. Organized religion, mushrooms, unbathed people, dirty fingernails, and insects disgust her. She believes the Death Penalty is underused and Abortion overrated. She is an extremist.

She doesn’t care if she’s liked. She has enough friends and if ever she decides she wants any more, she knows where to look. Don’t stalk her, she’ll stalk you. She has an antisocial personality. On purpose.

Most likely you’re not going to approve or like anything she thinks, which she’ll be saying freely here.

You’ll read anyway.

You’ll have to.

It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance. May the onslaught begin.

Cordially,
Lynx