There are certain things about homeownership you learn the hard way.
For instance, how quickly laundry rooms flood, or what makes lawnmowers die (hint: rhymes with chump).
But the one thing I was totally unprepared for was the onslaught of representatives from that infamous multi-national cult, perhaps best known for its patented unannounced intrusions of privacy.
I’m talking, of course, about Comcast.
Between the doorknob fliers, house calls, phone calls, emails, snail mails, regular snails (call me crazy, but I swear the snails I find on my walkway are paid by Comcast to let them know when I’m home), nightmares, and daytime hallucinations brought on by some auditory or visual pavlovian response mechanism – like if I see a person wearing a cast, or, like, if I see a person wearing a com – I think it’s safe to say Comcast has easily overtaken Jehovah’s Witnesses in The Race to Harassment Mountain (straight to Disney DVD this fall).
Since when do corporations get to behave in a way that would condemn a regular person to the Salt Mines of Antioch for forty years hard salting? (Oh. Wait. Nevermind.)
Since when have our lawmakers decided to bury their heads in the sand at the expense of millions of taxpaying Americans? (Oh. Wait. Nevermind.)
Since when has repeating the same words at the beginning of each sentence become accepted practice for rhetorical bombasts? (No, seriously…who was the lazy bum who started this trend?)
This is the point in the blog where I become confused and have to take a nap. Goodnight.