Intertunnelings Services Providings

Intertunnelings Services Providings

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I don’t know about you guys, but I miss getting phone calls like these. I miss getting phone calls in general, because I’m unpopular. I also switched to a new service provider for faster Internet Service Providings and haven’t given anyone my new number. Mostly because I can’t remember it. Also, it doesn’t seem to have the same amount of numbers as a regular one. In any case, I guess I’m at least partially to blame.

I especially miss getting calls from call centers. I particularly like talking to salesmen right as I’m sitting down to dinner. I got used to eating everything cold because I’d much rather talk to someone with an accent you could use to cut birch plywood than eat. I miss the old, “Excuse me sir, are you being happy with your internet service provider of current standing?”

I’d reply with the usual. You know, “What are you wearing?” or maybe a nice, “When do you get off work? Or, “Why don’t you come over and have dinner? I can give you a nice massage after.”

It’s surprising, but very few people take me up on my offer, but I always set the table for two in case anyone changes their mind. The spaghetti may be cold, but it’s made with love — and spaghetti.

I Love The Smell Of Freedom In The Morning

I Love The Smell Of Freedom In The Morning

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Remember kids, fireworks can’t hurt you as long as you’re drunk. Feel free to light them off from your front porch.  You can stand right under the explosions and let the spent rockets rain down on you until the cops come. When they finally arrive, offer them a beer and some fireworks, because they probably came to party. On July 4th, we’re all perps.

Everyone here at the BSBFB hopes everyone has a great July 4th holiday. A big shoutout to anyone who will forever be known as ‘Lefty’ after the festivities. And remember, today is your last chance to to stock up on fireworks for next year. On July 5th, every fireworks shop turns back into an abandoned Men’s Wearhouse.

Welcome To Hell

Welcome To Hell

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To be honest, this isn’t even that bad compared to most guitar shops. I have a theory that it’s worse when it’s just one or two people playing badly, as opposed to having ten or more people playing badly. When there’s that many basement shredders in one room it all just turns into sludge. When there’s only two or three you can distinctly hear what they’re playing. And it’s Stairway to Heaven.

I’m rather surprised there hasn’t been a single news story about a guitar store clerk going crazy and attacking everyone in a five mile radius. They must be made of much sterner stuff than we mere mortals. Also, I think it would be helpful to implement a “Buy Something or GTFO” policy at every Guitar Center. At least buy a bag of picks or a cyanide capsule. You know, something you need.

Never Give Up, Never Surrender

Never Give Up, Never Surrender

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I like to think that if you try as hard as you can and do your best anything is possible. Sometimes your best isn’t good enough. Sometimes your best puts you ten feet up a tree after flipping your car off an embankment, but your best is what gets you back on the road. Any other rally car drivers would have thrown up their hands and said, “Welp, I guess the race is over.” I really wouldn’t have blamed them. I would have done the exact same thing.

Something is different with these two fellows. They weren’t going to let the race get away from them under any circumstances. I swear, if they couldn’t start their car they would have pushed it across the finish line. They performed beyond the call of duty and deserve a medal of some sort. I don’t have any medals on hand, but if I did I’d cover them head to toe in respectable bling. They’d make a very satisfying clinking sound when they walk and that would make it all worth it.