Sunday, February 19, 2017


In today's world, everyone wants to sell you something. It comes in all forms such as radio, TV, newspapers and telephone, not to mention the Internet.

I once made the mistake of joining one of those sites where you get ‘free' stuff. Just answer a few questions. A few questions usually range into the hundreds which lead you into another hundred questions and then another, you become entrapped in an endless stream of product sell. They ask for information: "Where do we send your FREE stuff?" they ask.

When I worked for a major direct mail company, we ran sweepstakes to enhance the sale of magazines and products, and we always offered a ‘FREE GIFT!' Yes, a Free gift. I usually get gifts from my family and friends and don't pay for them.

Once a company knows you are a diabetic if you answer their questionnaire, they immediately contact you, once you quit the questionnaire. There are hundreds of companies out there who sell diabetic supplies and all of them contact you.

Recently I got a call from Akron, Ohio. Who do I know in Akron? My caller ID does not disappoint me, it can give me the hint that it is a sale call coming in. The phone rings and I wonder who it is from Akron. Having nothing better to do I answer it.

"Hello, may I speak to the diabetic in the house?" This is the same old sales pitched cold call.
"The diabetic! She died!!!"
"OH! I'm so sorry, have a good afternoon!"

They won't call again.

Then I get the computer pitch on the phone.


"Hallow, we are calling about your computer, we detected you have a serious virus. You are in front of your PC?" (I own a Mac)

"Why, Yes! As a matter of fact! What's wrong?" (I'm on the kitchen phone.)

"We can see that you have a virus infecting your compuuter! We need to rid it immediately."

"WOW! Thank goodness you called in time!"

"Yes, now go to your hard drive and open it and go into utilities and what do you see?"

"Hmmm… I see a bullshit artist!"


"Yup, I see a bullshit artist."

"What are you saying?"

"I see a bullshit artist and he is on the other end of this phone conversation, a thief and lying son of a monkey's whore."


"Yup, a real low life from Pakistan, the asshole of the world!" and I hang up.

One day, I went to the telephone, that object that sits on my desk to make a call. The object of my call was some service assistance for my computer.

With a cup of coffee and a notepad and sharpened pencils, I dialed the number for my service rep.

maybe my granddaughter should screen all my calls?
"Thank you for using your touchtone keypad. For English; touch one, Para Espanola; dos, for operator assistance; please stay on the line." Touching "1", I patiently waited for the next available operator. Humming a few bars from Beethoven's Ninth, I sipped my coffee and fiddled with a pencil. Finally, assistance arrived.

Him: Hallow?
Me: Huh??
Him: Hallow, ow mhay I hyelp hew?
Me: Hi, I'm looking install some type fonts, and for some reason, they are not reading in my program.
Him: Hew av a Mock ora Peecee?
Me; I have a Mac.
Him: Verrry goood, did hew gho to preefonces?
Me: Huh? What? Give me that again. I'm sorry; I'm hard of hearing.
Him: I sade; did hew gho to seestem preefonces?
Me: Where's that??
Him: First hew gho to hopple menu. See hoppleontop?
Me: Huh?
Him: Ontopseehoppleen corner?
Me: Hopple een?
Him; Yes! See eencorner?
Me; Totally confused; Oh, yeah, now I know what I did wrong! Thanks for your help.

Tired of all this racism against foreigners who don't speak English and try to help you in the good old US of A?
Write to;
Tell him; "Why don't you go back to where YOU came from, you bigot!"


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