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You know what i hate?

There is no company worse for customer service than the United States Postal Service. Fuck them. Fuck you if you are reading this. I am so full of rage and delusional extra-immolative imagery like I have never felt I can't even write about it. Y'all know how I can write about it.
I would rather call my cable company. If I don't get some platitudinal piece of talking shit, at least my cable company gives me AI.
Fuck you, USPS. Fuck you to hell. A government company where you don't get fired, you get transferred with a promotion.
 
Ups -- " hello your package will arrive at approximately 1105am. The box weighs 6 pounds and the drivers name is toby."
fed-ex-- "your package will arrive when it arrives"
usps--"what package?"
amazon--"we already knew what you wanted. It was delivered yesterday. It's in your bedroom."
 
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All I want is to get my package out of the 'parcel locker'. It's right there, man. Just a fucking piece of metal between us. The key I was left does not work. It took two and a half hours of rabbit hole phone calls and online to be told my local PO has the information and they have 2-5 business days to respond. WHY??? Just open the fucking box and give me my package!!! Is there a meeting to discuss how to proceed?
1. My mail comes anywhere between 10:00am and 1:00pm. I will not wait downstairs for three hours to talk to the bastard who didn't see the note I left about the key.
2. I do not have a car nor the ability to walk to my local PO or creep the neighborhood to find whichever carrier is out.
The secret to talking to a real USPS person on the phone is to call, wait for the options to start, smash zero a bunch of times, wait for the voice, smash zero a bunch of times, wait for the voice, and smash zero a bunch of times until the voice tells you to hold on for the next representative. You can either wait on hold or have them give you a call back. The first call back voice is a recording telling you you should have checked online, first. Then you get to talk to a person.
They Pony Express, man. Those bastards got shit delivered. Could take about as long, though. Only way your shit didn't get delivered is if Black Bart held up the Pony Express rider and killed him. Would I have more sympathy if someone died trying to get me my package? That's a toughie. I don't like when shit gets between me and my packages.
 
Left a note for worthless on Tuesday when the key didn't work. No help.
Talked to someone on Wednesday. It took 20 minutes to tell her, "The key doesn't work." No help.
Got a call on Thursday morning that worthless got the third-hand memo about my package. No help. Remember. The local PO does not answer their phone. I had to call another number so they could get in touch with my local so they could get in touch with worthless.
Left a note for worthless in my mailbox on Friday about the package. The note is gone, the key is still there and still does not work.
USPS has a monopoly on metered mail. I swear by all of you peoples' gods that I will go out of my way to avoid the sewage that is the USPS. I'm going to call the IRS for a nice conversation. Maybe Cox. They are horrible. I'm sure they will make me feel better.

Got my FedEx package on the early side of the delivery window they gave me. Fuck you, USPS. Fuck you and your brain-dead people.
 
You are not far off, CK.
Both gangs have been vandalized so another attack would not be strange.
If an investigation is done, they will find a number of complaints. When they see that the complaints all came from the only person who had a package 'taken', someone might be able to put the two together and come talking to me.
Post office police carry guns. Did you know that? If I'm having a conversation with someone carrying a gun, I want one.
 
I taped up a bunch of signs that said, 'USPS Do your job! Give me my package! This is 8 days!' Put them up with blue painter's tape.
I heard the carrier and went down. The only words out of my mouth were, 'Can I have my package?' Said it a few times. Said it as angry as I have ever been with a person without the tunnel vision I get in confrontation. I do not do well in confrontation. Carrier hands me my package.
The c-word landlady was there and told me kind of gruff to calm down. I took my same tone with a little more volume at her and said, 'I am not talking to you!' She said her thing, again. I said mine. The elevator came.
The carrier told me I didn't have to take the attitude. I told him there would be no attitude if 'you people' did your job.
I got my package.
People. The USPS delivers hundreds of millions of pieces of mail in a year. That's a helluva thing. But when there is a hic-up, they are useless.
Government unions, man. Get you slow brother Todd a job at the ol' government union when you realize he ain't worth his own shit.
 
Pray, m'lady SoOrbudgal the meltdown may yet explode.
Buddy Robert has been watching all this. When he came by, this afternoon I said, "Guess what?"
C-word had already told him what happened! By now, she has called all her family (who are my neighbors), her boss, and anyone she has come in contact with about our encounter.
If she approaches me about any of this, there will be great fanfare. Ooh-da-laly kinds of fanfare! I have spoken of my elevated location next to a state route. The balcony in front of my door is like a great stage that faces thousands of cars a day. My capability for fanfare is godlike.
 
Glad it finally came through.

I use USPS when I order from the states if it's an option. It costs 10% the cost of UPS and FedEx. No problems yet in 30 years
 
I have had only a few, minor issues. Refunds, I think. Resolution was 24 hours, or less. Never had to deal with a person.
This time, I got a bum key. No problem. I would be a bona-fide, double barrel, hypocrite douchebag for getting mad at someone for making a mistake. My entire issue has been USPS employee contact. 100% entire, entire.
I will never understand why the end had to come as it did. As far as the carrier was concerned, the package was right where it was supposed to be.
 
I avoid trouble more than I avoid confrontation Soobug-al. Never so much as worn handcuffs, thank-you-very-much! No-ma'ams! This ginger don't never like being tied up, ever! Get bullied as a kid and everyone is a stranger danger as an adult.
 
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I hate tweekers. Tweekers do not know how to store weed.
Buddy Ryan's sister's biker, meth dealing husband just died from a heart attack. Among the guns, cars, A/C units, dogs, and 2 acres of other tweeker shit were a couple big bags of weed, a handful of medium size bags of weed, and a bunch of 4 and 1 ounce bags full of weed. From trim to bud. To look at it you would say 10 pounds, minimum. I base that on the pound another buddy gave me with similar heritage and qualities.
The combined weight of all the bags was no more than a pound, including the weight of the bags. Every bit of it smelled sour.
I have never gotten less than 3 grams from a column. To collect from a column of this tweeker weed I needed two razors: One to scrape the bowl. One to scrape the little bit that got scraped up.
Tweekers suck.
 
Waking up to this, the driveway into the house. I would cut down the trees and plow it but there are broken trees hanging in the wires above the drive and wires on the ground.

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And this

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The power lines are on the ground, broken trees hanging in what is left of the power and cable lines. Probably won't get power back for a week. I have a generator but can not get a vehicle out to get more fuel. It is going to be a long walk. Good thing I delayed starting this year's grow. So this is spring?
 
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