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The Shocker Gloves

All I want for Christmas
are my shocker gloves,
my shocker gloves,
see my two shocker gloves!

Gee, if I could only
have my shocker gloves,
then I could wish you
“Merry Christmas.”

I know Sprint gets a bad rap sometimes, but I’ve had pretty good service since I became a customer.

Case in point – my cell phone quit working this morning, so I went the repair center after work. Okay, I had to wait two hours, but the free upgrade and getting my contacts transferred made it well worth the wait.

In fact, you can have a pretty good time waiting around in a cell phone store.

First, you can talk with the other customers. Tonight I was approached by a woman who asked,  “What wrong wit’ yo phone?”

“It won’t turn on,” I replied.

“Did you try resettin’ it?”

“What are you – Bill Gates?”

“Nah, I used to work fo Sprint.”

I just smiled and walked away. But that gurl be trippin’.

Another fun activity is sending text messages to numbers left in the display phones. Tonight I exchanged a few messages with one of those numbers.

Homo.

Who dis?

Homo.

Wht? I dnt kno who dis is. Who is u?

Good luck getting your GED.

Tel me whu u r. I dont kno u. but whateva. The Beast.

Check out summerofbenny.com tomorrow, homo.

Bucket of Shit NSFW

Burkha Barbie – something tells me there’s a Taliban Ken waiting to whoop her ass for going to school.

– Mike Tyson’s Greatest Interviews. NSFW

And did we tell you the name of the game, boy? We call it Riding the Gravy Train.

2 Responses

  1. You told a story of your cell phone was not working then you gone in service center and all, Then why broo why did you gave the title of have a cigar,,,! It is big question mark for me

  2. Hey Steve,

    I’m guessing by your URL that you’re in the cigar business. Sorry if my post title brought you to my website by mistake.

    I chose the title that day for two reasons:

    1. I heard the song by Pink Floyd earlier in the day

    – and –

    2. The picture of the Shocker gloves reminded me of a story from the Clinton era. It involved a cigar – and an intern.

    Anyway, I hope you’re not too mad. Just be glad you don’t sell mattresses. You’d find yourself all over the SOB.

    Peace.