I am in an all out war with the L.A. Times.
First they raise their prices to $40 - fine if you deliver to me - whatever, I can't say anything. BUT - last week I didn't get my paper Tuesday, Wednesday or Thursday. Friday I called them threatening their life if they didn't deliver BOTH Thursday and Friday's paper on Friday. Why? Cause I need my Calendar Weekend section. I need to know what bands are playing (even if I don't go) and what exhibits are opening. Since they changed their format 5 years ago now all the info's in Thursday's edition.
So what happens Friday - one paper, Friday and that's it. So I called them again - tellins them to f*ing pay be back for all those days. So what if it's $1.50 - I didn't get a raise remember??
Come Saturday I run outside at 7am to make sure the paper is there. It is, and I breathe a sigh of relief. Cut to Sunday morning and the entire - ENTIRE - paper is strewn up and down my driveway. I'm sure the operator told the dumbass delivery guy he wasn't doing his job. Now every morning with much trepidation I go out to see where my paper has landed. Cause if this shit happens again - I'm cancelling it and changing only to Sundays. And it'll give me a good reason to call them and bitch them out. Always a fun event. Not that it will make my life easier - but I'll feel better knowing I told them to shove their paper up their ass.
Kyle hates when I bitch out companies over the phone. He thinks I'm ruining our good last name. Since I've already complained to every one one earth who's wronged me using my maiden name - with my married last name it's a clean slate right?

Cheesed off
I do my little dance on the catwalk
Domo Arigato




