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Tag Archives: Steve Jobs

Loves me even though I’m an asshole.

I’m in love with a phone.

Steve Jobs did me a serious favor from beyond the grave and made the iphone 5C, I am fairly certain, just for me.

He may have been the evil genius (More than one meaning here) but the man knew some phone.

I buy a lot of crap from China.

Ebay and Amazon are filled with ridiculously cheap electronics from China all priced for about a tenth of what we can make it for here.

Ear buds for $.50 a piece? With free shipping? Shit, give me 10 of them.

Sure they are cheap pieces of shit and only last a few months, but they are so cheap!

The iPhone is made in China in the infamous Foxconn factory.

It ain’t cheap, even though I got mine for about a third of normal, it could still not be called cheap.

Its well made and lasts several years.

Not really the China-made MO, but whatever.

Bottom line is, the phone rocks and I am in love.

Siri has never sounded so sultry.

For those who don’t know, Siri is a genie that lives inside the phone and answers questions like a 411 slave.

She never complains and is always happy to help me.

The only thing preventing a long term relationship is her lack of a vagina, but I am willing to be flexible if we can get around her “No dirty talk” programming.

A little TMI there, sorry.

I used to have a teach in high school that, if you ever said “I’m sorry” his immediate reply was “You are sorry.”

That phrase bothered me for a lot of years, but I never knew why.

Now I do.

It took awhile to get to this place of understanding, but I am here.

Here it is.

I’m not sorry.

Not even a bit.

I came to the conclusion that I have always meant it.

Even the mean, horrible, drunk on my ass atrocities.

They may have been rude, mean, obscene and in some instances, illegal, but I intentionally did and said what I wanted.

Like this blog.

The filters I normally employ to be a little more societally acceptable are gone the second words hit the screen.

(I would say “When the pen hits the paper” but I learned to type at age 8 and gave up paper as a creation tool.)

Its a lot like an intentional literary Tourette’s Syndrome.

(Coupled with a little man’s syndrome that manifests as chronic emotional manipulation of others.)

Best case scenario, it makes me unpleasant or annoying on a regular basis.

Worst case scenario, basically, makes me the LAST person you want privy to your embarrassing stuff.

The day to day lays somewhere in between, making me pretty tough to deal with.

Family and friends that put up with me are known for their patience.

It took a long time, but I am at peace with that.

Mainly by paraphrasing that old adage.

“You can only please some of the people some of the time and the rest? Do your best to piss them off.”

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Posted by on October 25, 2013 in Uncategorized

 

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Don’t shit on the help!

Some people are just genetically pre-disposed to pissing me off.

I am in a looooong line at Starbucks. In front of me is a woman that, and I rarely use this word, but it fits, is snooty.

Make that snooty bitch.

The word bitch gets over used by so many that it almost loses its charm. Just when I am tired of it and just about to quit using it, I run into someone that bristles with indignation over the mere utterance of it.

Back to the snooty bitch.

She is on her phone. Whoever she is talking to may as well be asleep because snooty bitch is talking non-stop about every subject under the sun, without stopping, barely pausing for breath.

Like some sort of unstoppable chatty-Cathy doll that figured out how to yank its own string.

All things seem to fall into one of three subjects.

1. How much it cost. There was a brief tirade over the merits of her car versus her sisters car. “My car is a $50K Mercedes for gods sake, Her car costs less than $20K and she boasts about how many cup holders it has, if you can believe that.”

I like cup holders. Where would I put my coffee otherwise?

2. Where she got it. Evidently, you can buy the same product in two different locations, and one will be better than the other because of the location. “I bought my Iphone at the Mac Store in Brentwood. Jim got his at some place near the airport, and he has had nothing but problems.”

Steve Jobs was a great guy, visionary and all, (RIP Steve) but he would have loved to wing a spare Iphone at snooty bitch.

3. Where something is made. There is a pretty interesting denial streak running thru her, and she fancies herself as something of a patriot. “You know me, I only buy American.” She says this into her made in China Iphone, after having driven here in her made in Germany Mercedes. Having known her only a few minutes, and also knowing almost nothing about fashion, I am still willing to bet cash money that her bag is Made in France Prada. (It could be a knock off, but those are made in Thailand.)

Finally, it is her turn to order.

But she won’t stop talking. She is having two conversations at once, or maybe just one. The conversation in the phone takes priority over placing her order.

“I would like a venti Caramel- did Jim mention were are going to Barbados for Thanksgiving? A caramel moci- no, he likes the water there.”

At this point she begins flapping her hand like the girl is just being difficult with her. Finally, she yanks the phone away from her head with an exasperated sigh, speaking with the cashier like she is a slow child.

“A venti caramel mocchiatto with extra caramel.” She gives the UNFUCKINGBELIEVABLY patient cashier a snotty smile.

“Was that so hard?”

She didn’t!

She did!

She is not a ginger, but I am just on the virge of putting my foot to this rotten snooty bitch’s ass.

The cardinal rule in any food establishment is you never shit on the help.

Most chain stores try to regulate it, but there is an excellent chance that someone behind the counter is going to spit in her caramel mocchiato with extra caramel.

And I hope she spills it in her Mercedes, right on her Iphone.

 
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Posted by on October 7, 2011 in Uncategorized

 

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The sound…….of Silence.

There is a vicious, scorched-earth, fully bi-polar argument going in Starbucks right now. Shit is being thrown out there that you should never say to someone you are sleeping with, much less a loved one.

In total silence.

There is a guy at a corner table who is deaf. He has his Iphone propped up against his coffee cup, and if I casually lean over, there is a dark haired woman signing furiously and angrily into her webcam.

I have no clue whats being said other than the expressions, unlike Spanish, which I can sound out. I don’t even know how to sign what day it is.

He has been signing furiously for thirty seconds and now slowly licked several of his fingers and it has seriously pissed off the woman on the phone even more than before. Sign language seems to have newer options for going dirty.

This is absolutely fascinating.

And then its over, he gets up and leaves, in total silence.

He may be deaf, but he still has the same issues we all do. Some more than others.

I couldn’t be deaf, I would go insane. Anger demands noise, that is basic human nature.

But on the same note, being deaf would make me impossible to be around as well. Most deaf people accept it and grow to enjoy it.

Not me.

For me, it would be like having a permanent case of the shits. Always there, always annoying. I would exist in this permanent cloud of pissy that would make me even more unpleasant than I am.

And I can be pretty unpleasant.

But I started wondering why the deaf guy has an Iphone to begin with, its not like he can use it.

And then it hits me like a smack with the big “Hey dumbfuck!” stick.

He is using his phone.

Maybe not how I would, but now everyone can use a phone. The technology has now caught up with the needs of the deaf.

In other words, the people that don’t need phones? They now need phones. And not just any phone, but one of the most expensive, high end phones on the market, with one of the costliest rate plans.

Very clever, AT&T. Or shall I just call you Mr. Jobs?

I can see it all now.

This is world wide conspiracy shit. This is like an Internet grassy knoll, data plan goes back….and to the left, broadband-Da Vinci code type thing.

Chilling.

Should I suddenly meet with some sort of suspicious accident, be aware that “They” had a hand in it.
(And by “Accident” I don’t mean like a child fouling himself. I have only done that once and it involved a lot of grain alcohol.)

I have begun poring over my cell bill, looking for some sort of code. Unfortunately, I think I have a better chance to crack the Beale Cipher, (Google it), than I do of figuring out the AT&T/Apple master plan.

But at least we know there is one.

 
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Posted by on August 18, 2011 in Uncategorized

 

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