Motherfracking signatures! Are you serious with this? A signature? At my house? At 3:30 in the afternoon on a Wednesday? Sure I’d love to be home watching Netflix in my undies, but a guy has to hold down a steady job in order to afford a motherfracking R2 unit. I can’t be waiting around like you are the cable man or something. Why does this have to be so complicated?
You know what is more inexplicably complicated? Going to the mobile phone store. That used to be an exciting prospect. New every two, bitches! I was ready for it. Then you get into the store and every last little bit of life blood is sucked out like you are a beagle and the Verizon “Can you hear me now?” guy is a big ol’ tick. (Not the cool tick like in the cartoons. I’m talking those nasty ass insects that swell up to the size of walnuts.) Why does this process have to be as complicated as buying a car?
Dunno, but it does. This is a fact of life. Truth be told, I still think I am better off having bought online as opposed to going into the store. Sure, my pound of flesh has been removed, but it has come out in small chunks. Plus I get one more thrilling day of FedEx refreshing.