Too Much Info

Wanna know why I don’t use FedEx unless someone puts a gun to my head?

Because they’re loaded down with buckets full of FAIL!!1

Anyone who’s ever had a serious injury has probably undergone physical therapy, present party included.

The way I see it, physical therapy is both a blessing and a curse. It hurts like hell to go through, but the end results can be pretty amazing… as long as you’re willing to put the work in.

My own stint in PT hell was necessitated after I blew out my rotator cuff on the basketball court earlier this year.

Years of brutal contact sports and half-assed attempts at warming up had finally caught up with me.

After several consultations and the obligatory MRI, I had arthoroscopic surgery to re-attach the top tendons in my shoulder. They had completely torn away from the bone and  looked like an exploded sea anemome searching for a new home in my shoulder capsule.

Surgery to repair the damage went flawlessly. The recovery process, eh, not so much.

I was delusional with the idea that if I did a few weeks of intensive rehab, I’d be back on the basketball court in no time, jacking up threes and crashing the paint again.

My surgeon and physical therapists had different ideas. They wanted me to take the recovery process SLOW so I didn’t re-injure my shoulder.

Boo!

Of course they were right to be cautious. I obliterated my shoulder tendons on the basketball court, so there wouldn’t be much to work with if a re-injury occurred.

So I followed advice and slogged through a seemingly eternal rehab stint. It involved painful shoulder massages, arm  manipulations, endurance testing and nightly stretching exercises to help me regain the flexibility and arm strength I lost overnight.

Looking back, slow was definitely the way to go because my surgically repaired shoulder initially had as much flexibility as C3-PO’s lifeless limbs in Star Wars.

But PT helped my right arm go from a perpetual right-cross to a limber copy of my left within a few weeks.

Still, I HATED going to physical therapy, because (A) it was often painful (B) I’m obviously a lazy bum when it comes to stretching exercises, and (C) my wallet was taking a beat down from all the co-payments I had to make for each physical therapy session.

Ironically, my father had the exact same injury a year before and warned me what to expect from PT.

I looked at his fully recovered arm while he was preaching to me and wondered how hard could it be?

Six months later, I got my answer and then some.

I figure I’ll be able to preach the same precautionary tale to my own son one day…but only after he tears his rotator cuff from too much sports and half-asses his way through warm-ups.

I remember when I first started using Twitter back in 2007. It was just starting to catch on as the. internet’s “next big thing,” so I said “what the hey” and created an account, despite not knowing anyone else using the micro-blogging service.

Twitter was still pretty buggy at the time because of an inherent design flaw with its message delivery system (something about not enough gerbil power). But I didn’t care. I was happy just to have something to finally replace MySpace and Facebook as my main avenues for venting.

And replace them, it did.

I rarely go on Facebook anymore and wonder why MySpace is even part of the English lexicon, since the only people that frequent the place are pedophiles and trailer-park moms who prank suicidal kids, if you believe the news.

For me – and subsequently millions of others – 140 characters or less is more than enough to get my message across, even if it means using utterly ridiculous words or poorly structured sentences. Hey, it is the internets, is it not?

So I told all my tech-savvy friends about this promising new service with the funny name, only to be laughed at.

They said Twitter would never replace MySpace and Facebook because it was too simple looking and not user-friendly.

I’ll give you the simplistic interface argument, but not user-friendly!? You just type in a few words or sentences and hit the “send” button.

Then they said Twitter didn’t have enough games to keep them interested or a way to write on other people’s walls. I said “games are for gamers” and why should I write on someone else’s wall when they can just read mine instead? It is all about ME, is it not?

Finally, they resorted to the time-honored “nobody else uses it, so why should I?” argument.

Oh you sad, short-sighted fools. Technology waits for no man (or woman), so you better keep an open mind as to everything that comes down the pipeline. Because if you don’t, you’ll be left in the dust, just like all those pedophiles and trailer-park moms…

I absolutely hate the people who shop at Walmart late at night (or during the day, for that matter) because most of them are absolutely TOO LAZY to return their shopping carts back to the return area. Instead, they just leave ‘em beside their gas-guzzling SUV or broke-down domestic sedan, light up their cancer sticks, strap in their kids in the backseat and then drive off like American Idol is on.

The shopping cart they leave behind almost always finds its way to my car door at about 100 mph, leaving a nasty door ding or clear-coat scratch. And what can I do about it? Absolutely nothing, because the Clampett gang has already bugged out of Dodge.

Thank you Walmart shoppers, for being the lazy nards that you are. I hope someone steals your hubcaps…

So I have this female friend who wanted computer-buying advice recently. Let’s just call her Jonnie (not her real name but pretty damm close).

She chases me down to grill me about buying a new laptop for school. She wants it to be cheap (but, of course), be able to burn CDs (like, duh), and have wireless networking capability at home (no problemo).

So Jonnie asks what should she buy. I tell her an HP laptop. Any HP laptop, so as long as it’s new and NOT from Best Buy — or should we call the place, Worst Buy, because of their world-famous incompetent customer service?

Regardless, I tell her repeatedly NOT to buy from Worst Buy because her laptop will will eventually need technical support, and Worst Buy is useless for that unless you’re willing to re-mortgage your home to pay them for it.

Then she tells me, “Well, I already spoke to a salesman there and he recommended a…” Speak no further!

“DO NOT BUY FROM WORST BUY!” I tell her again. She says OK, and asks where she should buy from? I tell her any place that sells HP laptops. Wal-Mart, Staples, Circuit City, online retailers, local grocery stores, crack dealer around the corner. ANYWHERE BUT WORST BUY!

Then I tell her NOT to buy a Linksys router because, you guessed it, their technical support sucks. Jonnie chimes in, “but the (Worst) Buy salesguy recommended…” Speak no further, dammit!

I tell her to buy a Belkin router instead, which even Geico cavemen can set up. Jonnie says OK.

Two weeks later, I see Jonnie again. First she tells me she bought the HP laptop from WORST BUY. Then she tells me she bought the LINKSYS router. Then she says she CAN’T get her new router to work. DOH!

I ask her did she even bother listening to a word I said? She replies, yes, but… (then gives me some femininely lame excuse). Then she adds that if she needs technical support “that’s what I have YOU for!”

HELLZ NO WOMAN!!1

You didn’t listen to my advice the first time around. What’s gonna make you pay attention the next time!?

If I wanted to give advice to a woman just to have her ignore me, I’ll go talk to my wife!

OOOOOOOOHHHHH, that made me SO MAAAADDDD!!!1

Weminz is da debil!