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Check Out My Bluetooth Earpiece
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9/25/2006
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In keeping with the spirit of the "Check Out my Striped Shirt" email that went around last year, I figured it was high time someone wrote about another real American Asshole- Bluetooth Earpiece Guy.
Check me out with my futuristic mobile phone accessory that I purchased for $49.95. I'm so important that I have to wear it even when I'm not driving or otherwise using my hands. When you are making deals, sometimes you have to gesture, and it is those moments in which the earpiece is the difference between just sounding like an inconsiderate cocknob and fully committing to the role with every fiber of your being.
When you average turds get a call, you have to dig in your pockets and hold your phone to your ear, but not me. I just tap my earpiece and start talking. I look like a crazy person because the absence of anyone with whom to make eye contact just leaves me staring at various things around the room, talking loudly in sentence fragments. If you are stupid enough to think I am screaming at you about the cable guy not showing up on time, I will give you a dirty look for eavesdropping on my 120 decibel conversation. You don't understand the gravity of the things I have to deal with every day and you have to earn the right to identify with me.
Nothing is more important to me than the possibility of a phone call. Some of us can't even stop being popular long enough to eat. My earpiece blinks and wiggles with every bite of my Montana Fajita platter at Applebee's when I have time to take my family somewhere nice. My son might be telling me that he made the varsity football team and I could get a call and give him the international signal for "you aren't that important" by holding one finger in the air while pointing to my totally badass plasti-chrome earpiece with the other and averting my eyes.
I will probably excuse myself from the table to talk by the salad bar where it is quieter. I don't worry, because everyone around me forgives me when they see how powerful I am, issuing orders to a subordinate who may or may not exist or laughing loudly with one of my many hilarious friends.
Go ahead; just try to get past me to get some dessert. The soft-serve ice cream area just became my situation room, bitch. When I'm on the 'tooth, the world is at once irrelevant and revolving around me. I am oblivious to the fact that I am blocking the entrance to the restroom because your tiny bladder is not the issue here. I'll stand in the doorway of the elevator and not move when it opens because Bluetooth supersedes linear time, obscures the laws of physics, and tramples the testicles of etiquette. Maybe you'll understand that when I give you the stink eye for touching me. Do you have any idea who I am?
I get laid all the time and I talk about bangin' chicks. You know it. I'll talk to my boy Sticky from college about how that chick was all over me and I don't care who knows it, but I've always wanted to nail a Portuguese broad because I heard they know more tricks than a monkey on a hundred yards of grapevine. I'll tell him I tore that bitch's ass UP in a Janitor's closet at the Hyatt- good thing I never take the earpiece out or there would have been an unnecessary pause in the best pipin' she ever had when my mom called. Oh, are you offended? You seem to be forgetting that you don't exist when the 'tooth reigns supreme.
Yes, of course I use words like 'fuck' and 'cunt' in my frequent conversations with dignitaries and potentates. It's not my problem if you choose to take your small children to a public area where I might have to tell the Pope how to fix his "fucking bitchass shitcake whore of a fax machine" really loudly. Sometimes he pisses me off, man. You need to put the interests of the free world ahead of the well-being of your stupid kid. It's a goddamn Bluetooth jungle, champ. You can adapt or die.
Me and my Earpiece are a force to be reckoned with, and I reckon you ain't got the stones. You feel that breeze? There's an awesome-front moving in by the name of "me", and there's a high pressure system coming right behind it, so speed-on before you get peed-on, son.
Hell yes, I wear it on airplane flights. Nothing is hotter to the stewardess than the guy in 24C toothin' it up like a mad pimp. Maybe you aren't rad enough to use your phone while flying, but I have a special space phone and I might have tell someone in Milwaukee how to diffuse a dirty bomb or tell Secretary Greenspan how much to raise prime from 40,000 feet over Utah. People like me can't afford take the kind of chances you can.
The blinking blue light is Morse code for "one maxed-out hombre," and you just got learned, bitches.
 Dusty
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posted by Dusty at 1:54 PM |
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42 Comments:
**C**
Not only do I wear it when I'm NOT driving, I paid over $60 bucks for mine.
And yes, I talk too loud because no one can hear me on the damn thing. So I put them on speaker so as not to disconnect them by turning it off, and then they can hear me, but everyone in the local keniverse can, too.
I think I'm starting to hate myself.
As it turns out, I also live in a glass house and throw many stones.
Or should I say was, until I threw the thing across the room and broke it.
I hate those stupid things.
I do hate it when those flaming douche sickles look at me like I just raped their baby for making eye contact when I think they are talking to me. It was worse when I was a janitor and I had on my maroon uniform that said "I'm a janitor, hate me!" Back then I even had a legitimate reason for looking at them. They could have been trying to tell me that I placed their Master Yoda 8-ball to far to the left when I dusted their office last tuesday.
Fuckers! Fucking fuck shitwipes!
Yeah...
Almost Sideswiped By A Cell Phone Humping Asswad While On My Motorcycle This Morning,
dunderfunk.
It's the CONVERSATION that causes distraction (and driving ability comparable to being legally intoxicated), not the dialing or one-handedness of holding a cell to your ear.
Better to die or kill someone while looking like a tool than to not die or kill someone at all. You now have $60 less to spend on legal fees or a headstone.
You. Are. Brilliant.
It's cheap, effective and will make you feel important just like the teeth.
I think cellphones should have a zapper in them that zaps you if you're the one driving in the vehicle, and are the only one there. Simply for driving and talking on the phone in most states is a crime. Now, let's make em pay for it.
Pricks.
TLee007
That made you feel old, didn't it, 'cause I said "spry"? Well, don't sweat it. My use of a grampa word has absolutely NOTHING to do with your advancing age or your bad back. Or your bermuda shorts.
Plainly, I secretly love you, so obviously I'm kidding and would never suggest that you're a gray-taint. Happy birthday, pal.
~MyraMains
Perhaps driving and carrying on a removed conversation and doing needlepoint and watching a movie at the same time is no different than walking, while chewing gum, breathing, and blinking at the same time (4 things = 4 things, right?), but I'm going to bet that at least ONE of those things is getting short-changed...
We had a good ride for awhile, but now I think we can safely put you in the 'dancing baby', 'peanut butter jelly time', 'hamster dance', and other internet ephemera bookmark file to be slowly forgotten.
Best of luck in the real world.
signed,
your once faithful readers
We had a good ride for awhile, but now I think we can safely put you in the 'dancing baby', 'peanut butter jelly time', 'hamster dance', and other internet ephemera bookmark file to be slowly forgotten.
Best of luck in the real world.
signed,
your once faithful readers
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