Category Archives: Ping This Bitch


I am beside myself.

I cannot even put into words how  furious I am in regards to my dealings with the customer service people over at Chase Auto Finance. I am beyond baffled with how much these people suck.

Here is a fine example of the kind of service Chase has to offer to people who pay on time every month:

Scene one: 04/07/2010

me: “Hi there, I am calling to follow up on the request that I put in last week to have a copy of our title sent to the shipping company who is transporting our car to Germany”

e=mc^2:  ” Yes, ma’am (pronounced ‘mom’), I am showing that the fax was sent yesterday at 5:57pm.”

me: “Well, the guy over at the shipping company just emailed me and told me that he never received it. Are you sure that the fax actually went through and that there wasn’t some sort of error? Is there any confirmation of this?”

e=mc^2:  “Yes ma’am our records indicate that the fax went through.”

me: ” Hmm, really? Can you read me number that it was faxed to please?”

e=mc^2:  “Yes, it was faxed to XX5-XXX-XXXX…”

me:” XX5-XXX-XXXX? hmm…and you are POSITIVE that it went through?”

e=mc^2:  “Yes ma’am, it says right here that the fax went through…”

me: “..ok, and so what about the copy that I had requested to be mailed to my home address? Has that been sent out also?”

e=mc^2: ” I don’t see any request for that here in my records.”

me: ” You have got to be kidding. Not only did I call twice and was told both times that the request had been submitted, but I also gave the person I spoke with a new mailing address, please check your notes.”

e=mc^2: ” I am sorry ma’am, I do not see that request…”

at this point I could feel my pulse behind my eyes and I completely lost my cool. E=mc^2 apologized and promised to have another fax sent out as well as have a copy mailed to me by the end of the week. I explained to her that we have absolutely no time to waste and in order for our car to be put in that crate and on the boat, which is scheduled to ship out AFTER we have already left the country, they have to have that title. She said she would see what she could do to get the fax out and the conversation ended which is when it hit me that the fax number she had read back to me was incorrect. The number did not begin with XX5, it began with XX6. Fuck.

So out of plain old-fashioned curiosity and after recalling that e=mc^2 had CONFIRMED, and basically swore on her life, that the fax had indeed gone through without a hitch, I dialed the number and this is what I got:

” You have reached a non-working number”.

How does that happen? I mean, I am NO faxing expert, but from what I understand, a fax sent to a non-working number would not go through, and therefore a confirmation of “fax sent” would not be issued.

Basically, what it boils down to is that she LIED to me and she lied to the system. Not fresh at all. So I rang up Chase again and got F=ma on the phone.

me: “Hi, I just called a few minutes ago to check up on the status of my fax and after I hung up I discovered that the number you had sent the fax to was incorrect.”

F=ma: “Oh, I am so sorry, yes, I do see your call here and it looks like another request for fax has been submitted. Let me update the number in the system.”

me: “Thank you so much. Now the new fax request will be updated also, correct? I just want to make sure that it doesn’t get sent to the wrong number again.”

F=ma:”Yes, that is correct…”

me: ” Great, thanks.”

… I was pretty confident at this point that the little catastrophe had been sorted out. F=ma seemed to be on top of her game.

And then I woke up, literally, and began to write this post. About half way through yesterdays experience, I decided to put down the laptop and call Chase to confirm that my fax has been processed and sent to the right number just for piece of mind..

scene two: 04/08/2010

me: ” Hi there, I am just following up on a fax request that was sent out yesterday. I just want to make sure that it got sent out today.”

a^2+b^2=c^2: “Hello ma’am, yes I do see that your request went through and it was sent  this morning.”

me: “Oh, excellent, so that was the 2nd request, right? Because the first fax went to the wrong number  and I called yesterday afternoon to have that corrected.

a^2+b^2=c^2: “What is the fax number you wanted this sent to ma’am?”

me: “Uuuum, let me see, oh yeah XX6..”

a^2+b^2=c^2: “XX6? Not XX5?..”

me: “..please do not tell me that this was sent to XX5. I called you yesterday at 3:36pm and had the number corrected.”

a^2+b^2=c^2: “I am so sorry ma’am, according to my records this fax was sent to the number beginning with XX5..let me check my notes…oh yes, I see here where you called with the XX6 number…”

me: “@(@#*)@!! @*#(@#*#)@(!?!?! *#*%&@(#)*$!?!?!?”

a^2+b^2=c^2: “Can you please hold… I am going to transfer you to a supervisor”

The drudge supervisor eventually got on the phone and offered me a mass-produced apology. He said he was going to have this expedited and faxed to the CORRECT number within the hour. I am expecting much more of the same: BULLFUCK.

…until next time.

This weeks incidence of high-blood pressure was brought to y0u by the dick-hole-mother-fuckers over at Chase Auto Finance

Stay tuned for the next post, in the series “tragic bullshit”, about what happens when two  HR departments, a blow-up “lawyer”, and two knowledge-less “relocation specialists” who haven’t updated their procedure files in 30 years, fuck up a visa and make us do all the work.




Not Your Father’s Housewife.

Now be a dear and pass me a fucking olive. Happy Sunday.

be well my friends (and good luck finding a local barber…)



Oh Dear Me… *update*

The gym is a peculiar place, one which I don’t particularly care for but go to nonetheless. And as result of going to the gym, other than becoming more self conscious of my blubberous regions, I have developed an honest problem: a staring problem.

Now, it’s not like a pervy thing. I am in no way, shape, or form, attracted to roidy men who’s necks are thicker than both of my thighs put together, nor I am fantasizing about the 90 lb Japanese girl with the Hello Kitty water bottle, who never breaks a sweat, scarfing down cheeseburger after cheeseburger and showing up a week later weighing 290 lbs.

No. What it is that I find so fascinating, causing me to stare out of sheer perplexity, is people’s ridiculous behavior.

Exercising is an odd thing to do in public and I feel that one should never draw unnecessary attention to themselves, if they can help it. Personally, working out in the gym took me a while to get used to. The grunting, the sweating, the retarded facial expressions, and the stench of another human beings toxic waste makes me a lot uncomfortable and I am always amazed at shameless people who take it to the next level, all for show, as if going to the gym wasn’t hard enough as it is. Take yesterday’s hot mess, for example, who, in the first row (clearly so he could be “seen”), began doing fucking plyometrics on the treadmill (sweat and backhair flying everywhere), while it was at max speed/incline.  I had to no choice but to stare, think to myself “what a douche”, and then wonder whether or not he would come crashing into me if/when he flew off the damned thing.

Besides witnessing idiotic behavior, there is something truly mesmerizing about watching a man’s love handles jiggle with such great force it’s as though they are trying like hell to burst out from underneath that sweaty ill-fitted shirt and head to Taco Bell for some nachos and a churro. It’s hypnotic and a great distraction from your burning thighs. Try it sometime.

Anyway, I am off to the gym, again. More sweat, more staring… more stories to tell.  Happy Friday.

Update.

The Top Offenders:

1. The man working out in front of the mirror with a full on boner who knew that I knew that he had a full on boner and therefore felt that it was a good enough reason to follow me around.

2. The Mexican kid,doing bench presses, dressed in proper 1990′s “Cholo” attire. I know Cholo’s are serious about their “style”, but was the hair net really necessary?

3. The elderly women in the ladies locker room who insist on standing around nude while conversing with one another. I am in denial that these sorts of thing happen to women’s bodies post menopause for a reason, and I’d like to keep it that way. Cover up already.

4. Testicles. I don’t NEVER ever wanna see em.

My shoes, I love them dearly…thank you Stella.



Wrong.The Pants Party has Not Relocated to My Mouth.

I don’t shit, bleed, or fart.  I am a sexual tigress with legs for days which are most often seen in the up-and-open position. I have magical crotchless panty-powers which can turn ordinary food items into culinary works of art in the wink of a very experimental brown eye.”Suck, Stir, Fold, Repeat..”, that’s my motto, and I never complain…or fart, oops I already said that.

…and then suddenly you snapped out of it and noticed that my knee was getting dangerously close to your balls.

Reality: I am in a baaad mood and I ate too much popcorn last night which always gives me really terrible gas. In addition to having good old fashioned flatulence, for the past three days my uterus has been furiously contracting, leaving me in excruciating pain which can only be relieved by taking toxic levels of ibuprofen along with lethal amounts of vodka. And ya know what, I haven’t shaved these legs in weeks, and to be honest, I really don’t feel like cooking tonight because I’ll be home late from work and, god forbid, you help me chop an onion without reminding me LOUD AND CLEAR, as I am gripping my lower abdomen with one hand, scratching my hairy leg with the other, and ripping a godzilla-esque fart, that we haven’t had sex in TWO WHOLE DAYS and that you are DYING.

Just shoot me already, or at least have the decency to provide me with some really good drugs.



Z, as in Nancy?

… and you wonder why I sleep all day.

“so what do you do for a living?”

“I’m an infinite loop.”

++++

So what do you suppose it means when you dream of  complete strangers?

Like, in the dream you actually saw their faces so clearly that if you were to see them in real life, you’d recognize them from your dream?

Last night I had the most amazing dream involving three people I’ve never met or recall seeing in my entire life. Interestingly enough, they all had names which I remember, one of which was rather unusual.

It was such a good dream… and then I fucking woke up to the familiar sound of the “weekend shift drone”.

Repetition kills me. How one can do it for life is beyond me.

Time for some movin’ and shakin’.