Archive for Phone

Idiots Enslaved By Technology.

Posted in Tales From Hell with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on June 13, 2008 by Buck Frain

The life of a market research interviewer is tedious at best. Sitting in a booth phoning people and boring them to death with mundane questions about crap they don’t care about. I’m serious, where the fuck do you find people aged 18-34 who don’t use libraries but do want to spend 15 minutes answering questions about why they don’t use them? Genius! Aren’t you glad you pay tax?

I freely acknowledge that my job is stupid, pointless and on occasions invasive but I’m constantly amazed by the psychotic levels of rage it incites in seemingly ordinary people, and for that matter how stupid most people are. I mean, I don’t sell anything, I’m not asking for money, all I want is time. If you don’t have any or if you’re not interested, no worries. Thanks for your time, see ya – I move on. But, no,  people lose their shit. It seems to me that there are a massive number of people who are so disempowered and shat-upon in their regular lives that they need to cut loose at someone, anyone,  and the lowly, anonymous market research interviewer is a perfect target. Most of them are pretty unimaginative:

Fuck off, ya fuckin’ cunt!

That’s cool. Occasionally, I get mildly more imaginative attempts.

You shouldn’t be phoning me, I’m on the witness protection programme.

Yeah, and you tell people that? Smart. But then there are the people who think we’re deliberately targeting them ‘cause they’re oh so important!

Why do you call at dinner time, everyone’s having their dinner, don’t you people know that?

Oh yeah, that’s right, this is the legally designated, universal, unvarying time when the evening meal is consumed, it can’t ever happen at another time and we’re calling you so yours gets cold. Are you stupid? Fuck off and die!

Dontcha know I’m watchin’ the fuckin’ footy?

Of course I do, I can see you on the camera we put in your lounge room, I’m just ringing to fuck with your puny mind! Would you like to buy some DVDs of you shagging your dog?

Then there’s people who go crazy that they have a silent number and I’ve rung them on it, and they don’t even know me. Angry as piss because they pay for something that doesn’t prevent anyone calling them. I’m polite to these people but Jesus they’re ridiculous because, despite their protestations, they don’t actually want to end the call. They want to crap on and on and make me feel guilty for intruding into their lives – never gonna happen! I’d be happy to leave them in peace but they won’t let me, they want to lecture me on being an evil fucker for wasting their lives. Shit, I’m not wasting it, fuckface, it’s a phone – HANG THE FUCKER UP!!!

For fuck’s sake, do you have to answer your phone? If you don’t want to speak to people, don’t, I don’t make you. Just don’t pick it up. Stop being a slave to your technology! Get the fuck over it! And while we’re at it, if you’re angry at your life don’t expect me to give a fat rat’s clacker – hell, I’ve got my own shit to deal with. Pathetic Pavlovian shit-brains – I have absolutely no cunting sympathy! Don’t answer your phone if you don’t wanna talk to people! Don’t respond to the bell like a dog to a whistle! Remember – YOU HAVE FREE WILL. Well, some of us do.

This is the saddest thing. So many people have become completely enslaved by their means of communication. I’ve called people who have answered the phone while fucking. They don’t usually tell me but it’s pretty obvious what’s going on. Then they have the nerve to get mad at me about it. Hey, I’m not the fucktard who answers his phone mid-root. Damn, isn’t that what voicemail’s for? Ooh, but what if it’s important? If it’s important they’ll ring back. People are stupid. The human race is doomed!

Mobile Porn Library – Wank on-the-go!

Posted in Things Rank And Gross In Nature with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on May 26, 2008 by Buck Frain

Let me say straight off the bat, pardon the imagery, that I don’t have a problem with masturbation. It’s fine – it’s natural, fun, therapeutic and usually doesn’t hurt anyone else. But seriously, the world is going to hell and it would seem we’re turning into a nation of dull-eyed, brainless, chronic masturbators – it’s just not healthy. Don’t believe me?

What the wank-obsessed fuck is going on with late night TV? Have-a-wank ads have been around for ages. Ten years ago in between bullshit late night infomercials like Kevin Trudeau’s Mega Memory you’d have phone sex line ads. That shit was bad: our crusty bitches are waiting for you to call 1900-I-wanna-pay-5-bucks-a-minunte-to-jerk-off-with-my-own-hand! It was sad and contemptible, lonely cashed-up motherfuckers who were so thick they couldn’t work out it’d be cheaper to go for a real rub-and-tug with someone else’s hand at their local massage parlour. Those stupid fuck-knuckles deserved to get taken for every last penny, but we could rest knowing that telephone hygiene was relatively safe due to the distance between phone and cock. Now it’s far worse: mobile phone porn ads – dial 1900-dirty-slappers-ooh-just-can’t-wait-gotta-blast-a-load-all-over-my-fuckin-phone.

What sort of sad shit-sack beats off to a phone. That’s fucked up! Are guys today so frantic the get a load away, and so devoid of imagination, that they need pornography on their telephones? In the information age with a whole internet full of more free porn than the world will ever need, people are still paying exorbitant prices for visual wank fodder? And what does this mean culturally, is everyone pissing off to the toilet for a sly phone-wank every five minutes? Think about it, there’s definitely a market for phone porn and don’t kid youself that it’s just a novelty, ah it’s just a bit of fun, don’t live in denial – where there’s porn, there’s wanking. We’re confronted by the harsh reality, on TV every night, that there must be a huge number of blokes hunched over, furiously wanking themselves off to their phones – otherwise the ads wouldn’t exist, would they? It’s fucking disgraceful! It’s a phone!

I now refuse to use other men’s mobiles. I can’t bring myself to do it anymore. Fuck it, why take the chance? Think about the people you know, think about it next time you put a friend’s mobile up to your mouth. Does it stick to the side of your face? Did he wipe it off with an alcohol wipe, or was it a refresher towel from KFC, or did the filthy compulsive-cock-pounding freak just give it a once-over with a bit of dunny roll? Are you speaking into a dirty sex toy? Can you smell jizz?

Self-absorbedness & The Illusion Of Public Solitude.

Posted in Random Shit That Gives Me The Cunt with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on May 2, 2008 by Buck Frain

Congratulations, you have a mobile phone! Ooh, it’s exciting, it takes photos and plays .mp3s, you must be really proud.

I understand that new technology is exciting. I too have a great love of toys and gadgets. But, I do not try out all of my 57 new ringtones in public. I don’t play music out of my phone on its piss-weak speaker at its tinny top volume in the middle of a crowded tram. I don’t do this because I recognise that I live in a society with a bunch of other people, some of whom may not share my taste in complete banality. I don’t do it because I’m not a complete fuck-waste. I mean really, you fucking bogan, put the fucking phone away. I don’t want to hear your shit music. I especially don’t want to hear it on public transport through a pissy phone that was never designed to be used as a public address system. Who the fuck are these people? This genetic underclass, they are who I picture when Marx (no, not Richard, cunt!) describes the lumpenproletariat, they are social scum. Fuck me, it’s Deliverance in a tracksuit and with an ice habit! Did you actually originate from a sexual act or did your obese, inbred mum pick you up from a deranged alcoholic’s wank-splatter on a public toilet seat? I just want to grab their fucking phones and hurl them out the tram window. Fuck it, why stop with the phone? GORMLESS CUNTS!

Slightly above these fuckers on the genetic inferiority scale are the shitbirds who have really loud phone conversations on public transport. These people can look quite normal, even respectable but because they can’t hear the person they’re talking to very well, they assume that they also can’t be heard, so on a quiet train carriage, they yell their conversation so everyone onboard hears it whether they want to or not. It could be business or the most personal shit in the world but they’ll just crap on like they’re alone. I fucking hate it. It really fucks with me, I don’t want that kind of intimate knowledge of a stranger’s life. It’s like some an unsolicited spiritual fingering, it’s fucking disgusting, mind-raping bastards! The only retaliation I have found is to offer the offender my opinion on their conversation after it’s over. Now that really fucks with them, they get really shitty. You know, it could be Hep C, was Sharon in jail? Or: He’s fucking you, man, if you pay more than $1500 you’re totally getting done! It’s amazing how they suddenly think I’m the bad guy. The whole carriage may be trying not to laugh because they all got the same shit as me, but no, to the freak, I’m the evil eaves-dropper. IT’S A TRAIN, YOU FUCKHEAD – YOU’RE NOT ALONE!!!

Of course, you don’t have to use a mobile phone to be an obnoxious PT passenger. There are plenty of fuckstains who can’t help projecting their conversation to the entire carriage when the other person’s sitting next to them. Are they drunk? Are they deaf? Are they actors? Are they just teenagers who haven’t been sufficiently beaten-down so they realise they’re not alone on the planet? Could be any or all, one thing’s for sure: They’re annoying bastards and fuck me dead if I don’t want to hack off their heads with a ripped-open Coke can.

In conclusion, if like me you use public transport, please: read a book, listen to your iPod, even have a quiet chat, but for fuck’s sake remember there are people around you. People who tolerate your presence only because you respect theirs and because they don’t want to go to prison for silencing you with a pen Joe-Pesci-style. Just because you have your head up your arse doesn’t mean the rest of the world ceases to exist, you’re not invisible! There is no “privacy” in public and just because you don’t care about other people doesn’t mean you can’t piss us off. If you push us too hard, if you play your shit music, if you shout to your mum about your herpes, one day… we’ll crack and we’ll choose prison. Why? Because it’s QUIETER!!! Ask yourself whether that Gwen Stefani track is really worth bleeding to death in a tram for!