i called about my suspect bootleg copy of advance wars.

the guy agreed, my cart sounds sketchy.

hopefully i can take it back tomorrow.

but more funny was every time id started whistling along to the orchestration of the mario theme...

and theyd interrupt

"thank you for calling, your call will be taken in the order it was recieved"

or whatever that was.

poo.

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theres a martha stewart mentary on the angry woman channel...

poor martha, this is hilarious

awww, martha got a job modeling and pimping soap that made her skin feel soft.

is it just me, or is murphy brown playing martha stewart?

damn them and making this so... addictive... and taking away my abilities to spell.

at least ma didnt kill me about my grades.

thank goodness. :/

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still didnt break a one.

mas going to have my ass.

im not sure if i should feel bad or not.

i mean, shes paying tuition out of pocket.

but i also feel that i tried my hardest, given what was going on.

besides, everytime she called i was studying, so thats got to say something.
(obviously i studied more than just when she called, but thats not the point)

i guess i dont feel all that bad, because im not the only person thats got to retake some stuff.

though i need to get to writing that angry letter to steger.

but i dont think im going to do the other thing ive been wanting to do, it seems like a bad idea.

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so i went w/ debi to hooters.

nummy nummy num num! >.<

we went gallivanting about,
i got advance wars (the first one, yay!)

but the mem battery is fuxx0rzed. :/

so i guess ill give nintendo a call and see if it needs a battery, and what size battery it needs.

gotta call lizzyboo as well

and people about cutting open stinky.

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that fucking bitch makes me so fucking angry.

all she does is bitch about this.
bitch about that.
bitch about something else.
and work.

she never has a fucking positive thing to say, at all, ever, about anyone, unless its the rare "oh, it looks like youve lost a few pounds".

because weight is what makes or breaks a person, everyone knows that.

weight is the big judge of character, so she calls us fucking FAT all the god damned time.

WERE not the ones eating everything that the doctor's said we shouldnt, and then saying that the fucking clients ate it, and then throwing it back up in a fucking waste basket in the damn corner.

bitch has me so fucking angry i cant even go back to sleep.

i really dislike her.

i mean, i come home, and she begins instantly bitchign about how i need to do this
and i need to do that.

because we all know that im home year round
and im the one making all the messes

bringing fucking boxes of shit into the damn house.

but its my job to clean them up and sort through them, because i know what everyone does when im away at school. sure, i know that someones worn this the past few days.

sure, i know why the fuck theres this random box of papers and shit lying around the house.

sure, i let the house get into such a state of disarray because im so busy trying to get a fucking education (which isnt worth shit, a crack habit would be more worthwhile, im sure)

i mean, she works all the time. but its not because were poor. she works all the time because she can.

no one tells her to work all the fucking time, and then come home and BITCH that nothing's been thrown out, because shes at work all the time and god forbid she STOP WORKING (oh my god) to lift a finger around the damn house.

the ceilings got a leak in it. its worn all the way through the damn ceiling.

its not her job to do anything about it.

sure, it may be dads house, but last i checked, her name was on the fucking deed as well.

sure, dad might not be doing shit either, because hes too busy smoking (weed and cigs) and sleeping to do anything,

but obviously if your fucking children are living in the damn house,
and its in shambles,
SHOULDNT YOU DO SOMETHING ABOUT IT?

instead of buying a house, letting your crotchety old man of a father live there, boozing it up, inviting strange people to spend long periods of time there, inviting even stranger family (who defaces shit, but oh, its ok) to live there, and fucking harrassing your kids even though its YOUR HOUSE????

and whats this shit about god?

because you work all the time, god is going to clean your house?
god is going to automatically fix EVERYTHING?

no.

no dice.

if the church can up and wipe out limbo, why should i even begin to believe in something that seems to be manmade? yeah, that makes sense.

damn brainwashing church.

of course, shell come back home, and bitch even more about how she doesnt have a lexus, and how she doesnt have this, and how she doesnt have that, and how she cant wait for me to get out of school.

and how dad hasnt done this, and dad hasnt done that, and how fat my brother and i am, and how ugly and stupid and all sorts of other bullshit that comes out of her fucking mouth.

well, if youre raising children, shouldnt you be doing it TOGETHER?
you know, the whole, making sure everythign is taken care of?

LIKE FUCKING CEILINGS WITH HOLES IN THEM?
and making sure youre not fucking your kids minds up and giving them problems???

granted she shouldnt do it by herself, but damn, stop bitching the fuck about it and DO SOMETHING.

woman has me so damn angry i cant even go back to sleep.

and then she bitches about how i always want to go places.

well shit, if you lived in this fucking house, would you ever want to be home?

i asked her a while ago if i could go to chesterfield on thursday, since she was off that day, and i wanted to look for something. i was just going to go up there, look for it at maybe three places (eb, gamestop, software etc) and come back.
not all sortsa gallivanting like we normally like to do.

but surprise, she gets called by work... even more surprise, she takes it. what the fuck.

so i say fine, ill go tomorrow, since youre off then. fine she says, and we can all go.

of course id rather she not go (backseat driver to the fucking max), but whatever, we can go.

friday, can i go? NO. and then she starts bitching about how i always want to go, and always take her car, never do anything, and blahblahblah (i didnt see her scrubbing the never cleaned bathroom). and then bitches about how im upset with her, because i cant go. NO SHIT! you fucking told me that i could go THURSDAY. but then when you "suddenly" had to go work (so you could bitch about having to had worked 7 nights in a row, and how far it was, but then ended up taking the damn job regularly anyway), i didnt complain. fine i said, can we go tomorrow? and you said YES. dont get bitchy with me because you cant keep your word.

then she bitches that we never clean it out, because what? its her car, and has HER shit in it. if it were my shit, id clean it out. but i dont know what the fuck to do with her shit.

its like in the house.

you put all this shit in it, and whenever someone touches it to perhaps put it away, or *gasp* take your advice and THROW IT OUT, you bitch like its the end of the world.

maybe theres a reason no one cleans anything, because youll bitch about it.
theres toys on the counter that cobys never played with, you always say get rid of them.

we'll get rid of them, and then youll bitch that we shouldnt have, they might have been worth something one day, blahblahblahblahblahyouresofuckingfatblahblahblah

and then i went out with twyla last night, because i was fucking bored, and tired of sitting in this damn house, and looking for some 18+ fun (no, no wet tshirts or anything like that, just 18+ as in not hanging out with coby. cobys cool and all, but if i wanted to go into a porn shop, id have to leave him outside) i told her we were going to the mall, because, we were. after the mall closed, we went to target, because i needed lip balm, and then to walmart to go gallivanting about.

we got to twylas at 10.30p, and i called home to let them know id gotten back.
the line was busy, so i ate something (oh god, forbidden), and called again around 11.15, figuring mom was busy talking about how fat i was and work with my aunt or someone. the phone and doorbell ring at the same time, its my dad to pick me up to go home. i walk in the house and my mom goes on about how shes disappointed in me or doesnt appreciate what i did.

what the fuck did i do? im 20. i told you i was going with twyla to the mall. sure, the mall closes at 9. we went to target and walmart too. still "the mall". i called you when i got back, the line was BUSY, so i waited.

if you wanted me to be home by a certain time, you should have fucking told me instead of waiting until i got home to bitch at me.
bitch.

well, i tried calling, and the line was busy. i was going to let you know i was going to sit over there for a bit, and was getting ready to leave as it was.

on a good note (which becomes a bad note), i got two awesome new bras. that FIT!!! they cost 64 bucks a pop... i made ma pay for one of them, since shes always bitching about me not having good bras, but yet will neither take me to get them, nor let me go get them on my own (i wear huge bras, so i usually have to go to a creepy boutique to get ugly old things, but these were awesome and from dillards! i wore one of them out of the store, it was that awesome. i think i scared the sales lady with my hootin and hollerin, though). when i *gasp* get her to go, she bitches about how expensive they are, and blahblahblah, and how i need to wear this one, because its a minimizer, and blahblahblah, im fat so i dont need to have breasts, and all sorts of other bullshit.

now isntead of being glad that my breasts arent hanging and going ::makes the olympic drums sound, waits for horns to start:: shell bitch that theyre too high, and draw too much attention to themselves.

well im sorry that my breasts are large. theyre mine, and i like them. (creepy people like them too, and i dont remember that guys number, but he was creepy anyway)

im sorry that you dont even own your own clothes, because youre too busy wearing other peoples clothes and old things. your bras would be expensive too if you wore the right one.

i mean, shit. she dresses like a fucking bum. shes always dressed like a fucking bum.

what the hell? if you work so damn much, cant you at least buy yourself some clothes so you dont have to wear the same thing every fucking day? what the hell.
its not like she buys us any and everything we want, so its not like she can even bitch that all of her money is being spent on us.

i can understand being frugal? but shit, she's ridiculous. she can afford things for herself. that fit. instead of BITCHING when someone gives her a nice xmas gift, because she thinks its too small, when in fact i would probably look really nice on her.

she pays tuition and books (sometimes ill pay half on books), and the occasional necessity. thats maybe a months pay (per semester), max, and shes in the clear every other month that tuition isnt much of a matter.

but yet she bitches about it.

if its that much of a problem, i will fucking drop out of school and become a crack whore.

though it probably wont save you money in the long run.

then she bitches about how awful granma was to her, calling her fat and outsided and dressing her in "fat" clothes... but yet she doesnt want to do the same to me.

stupid bitch, i would venture to say im one of the most fucked up people i know, thanks to her.

thanks cunt, ive got an uhealthy fear of the opposite sex.
thanks cunt, ive got self esteem in the gutter.
thanks cunt, im properly depressed, bitchy, and all sorts of other things, because i hate myself.

thanks for fucking up my life. i hate you for bringing me into it, i hate you for making it hell. because its sad when youve upset your child so much that she wants to KILL HERSELF when shes fucking FIVE.

its such an awful thing to say, because i abhor hating people, but i cant stand her.

and thats sad, because shes my own fucking mother. she wonders why we all ignore her, its because she bitches all the fucking time, no matter what.

im still trying to figure out why the fuck her and dad had kids, they really dont need nor deserve them.

bitch never has anything good to say about anyone, and is always too busy bitching.
dad is always too busy fucking smoking and coughing up shit.

neither of them get anything done.

im 20, i should move out. maybe ill adopt cobycup so he doesnt have to put up with the shit.

but i need a place to store my shit until i graduate.

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So as everyone knows, I've been having issues with Best Buy, because they're god awful, and don't give a shit about anything about plans and money. I'm posting this as a vent, and perhaps someone will see it. I'll alternate between buddy/it/my computer/him, because I personify my computers. Yes, I'm fully aware that I am a loser and probably don't get any at all.

This isn't everything, but the most relevant parts that I can think of.

The majority of their representatives (including management, customer care, etc) are rude and incompetent.

They lie to customers, and will do anything to get your money.

They can't do things, because of "policy", and no matter who you talk to, no one seems to want to make things better or help you, even when it's Best Buy's fault.

Calls are rarely returned, and heaven forbid if you can call person A in regards to person B at corporate, and have interconnectivity between the two ends of the SAME company...

On a further note, it can't possibly be just me feeling this way when there is an extensive website, bestbuysux.org devoted to the manure one must wade through when dealing with "Best Buy".
-------------------------------------------
So, heres a (relatively long) recap of everything that's happened since July 12, 2004.

But first, a mini-biography of buddy, my oh so lovely wonderful super awesome computer.

I bought him on December 7, 2002. I'd been eyeing him forever, and would have gladly signed away my left leg to the devil for it. He was a 15" sxga +TFT (1400x1050)display, Intel 2.4 pentium 4 processor, 512 MB of DDR SDRAM (2x256MB at 266MHz: says so right on the box, take *that*, HP), DVD+CD-RW combo drive, 60GB eide hdd, integrated 56k modem and 10/100 ethernet, and xp home.

Since I was in high school, I bought him to be a hunking heat-throwing behemoth and figured he'd be everything I needed to last me through college, and perhaps beyond, if I took absolutely wonderful care of him, or used him like you use a desktop replacement, and had him serviced regularly.

I'd taken him in before to have things fixed, and once when I asked for the sound card to be replaced, it wasn't, and then the rep tried to tell me that no, it's not the sound card, you just don't have the volume up... I think I nearly made him cry. I didn't call him anything bad, or use threatening behavior or language, but when I tell you the soundcard is messed up, the soundcard is messed up. I'm not a "oh, black girl, she must be doubly stupid about computers" type of person. I know what im talking about most of the time. Especially when it comes to my beast of a laptop.

I'd reformated him in March 2004, and had reinstalled all... 600USD or so worth of software I'd purchased my freshman year of college, plus the data I'd backed up, +/- a few MB.

Anyway.

I took my buddy to Best Buy #422 in Chesterfield, Va. I said to them, these things are wrong, fix them, and had them write down to replace the left-click button on the touchpad (it had come loose, and would occasionally come out), the PCMCIA card slot needed replacing (it had died), the keyboard (wear/tear, worn letters), to check out the display, because it would occasionally flicker (thanks to Va. Tech's power system. :/, but I hadn't put 2 and 2 together at the time.), to check the heatsink and fans, as my computer would frequently overheat and shut down, and because the fans were much louder than before.

(Cue Uncle from Jackie Chan Adventures...) One more thing, I said. I need this to be rushed (half the time, in Best Buy lingo), because I have to leave for school in less than a month (I'd not been home that long, and had finally managed to make the trek all the way out to Chesterfield). No problem, expect it July 23rd. Awesome. So I left, knowing/hoping that buddy would be superawesome when I got him back.

The 23rd comes, it goes, and on the 27th, I call to ask where buddy is. "Oh, we're waiting on something, call in a week". Fine, no problem, things happen, a week is ok. So a week later, I call. "Oh, we're waiting on a case, call back in a few days". A few days later, + 1 for good measure: "Oh, we're waiting on a heatsink, which'll get in on the 11th."

But I told you when I sent it off that I wanted it rushed, because I needed to leave town on the 12th. I understand things happen, but no one's bothered to even let me know that "Hey... is it ok that we keep your computer a bit longer? We're waiting on some parts... It may take a few days longer." I would have said yes, and perhaps not made them ship him to me.

But at this point, I was annoyed, and told them that I wanted them to ship him to me, as it was their fault, not mine, and that I would not be able to get to neither their store, nor the nearest store (434, Roanoke) to pick it up. Sure lemme ask around and see if we can, OK, let's get your address, and we'll send it to you when it comes in. Shouldn't take too long. So a week comes and goes, with more "oh, well... it's not in yet... " and all sorts of other drivel. Around August 25th, I get a call from my mother, saying that the store had let her know buddy was ready. She told them they were shipping it to me, and I told here there was no way in hell they(my parents) were paying a dime to ship me buddy. A few days later, she called to let me know that they "were shipping" buddy as we spoke.

The 27th, I called the store, wondering why the tracking number they had given my mother wasnt working. They gave me the same number, but then told me they hadn't shipped buddy yet, so it wouldn't work. They couldn't quite tell me when they were shipping it, so no idea when my number would work.

I got the computer around 3pm on Tuesday, August 30. Note the change from "buddy" to "the computer", because that's that it was. It had my data, and my display. That's it. Were I not so knowledgeable about computers, I'd still have it now, wondering why it was so slow.

I opened the box, danced around the room for a good ten minutes, and scared the bejeebus out of my roomie. I had buddy. But he was dirty (there was this huge creepy brown/yellow stain on the palmrest.) and had creepy smudges. And the case model was different. And the IR panel covering the IR emitter was loose. And there was a nice ... half millimeter gap in the case! This computer ran very slowly, and there was a wireless card... OK, I can deal with a different case model, if I get a free wireless card. That's cool. But then I decided to check the RAM, because I wanted to upgrade it to 1GB when I got buddy back.

I sent it off with 512MB of RAM... it came back with 256MB. I flew to the phone like (insert odd speed/attraction related euphemism here), and quickly dialed "Customer Care", and spoke with Andrea. I explained to her the dirt, smudges, case, and most importantly, my RAM. She had the nerve to ask me "what do you want me to do about it?"... Erh... I want my stick of RAM. Can't you just order me a compatible stick of 256 off the website and overnight it to me? There's not much I can do with 256 RAM when I'm majoring in Computer Engineering...

She said she'd get back to me.

She didn't.

I called back, and spoke to a wonderful lady who returns calls, and seemed to understand my predicament. Shame I can't remember her name, she made me feel better. She said she'd look into it, and call me back. She did, and I have the voice mail to prove it.

Said I'd have to resubmit my computer for repairs. Fine, but I can't get to the store, its a good 45 minutes away. I'm busy, my friends are busy, and there's no way in hell I'm paying for a taxi to Roanoke.

So I called around. Customer Care, Roanoke 434, Chesterfield 422, to see if, since I had my computer mailed to me by Best Buy, and it was their fault, could I have a packing slip mailed to me. I already had a box.

No, no, no, no... it's against policy... whine whine whine ... you don't understand you don't understand...

This went on for a month. Whining, and no, and more whining about policy. Even though it was their mistake. And god forbid I get to speak to the manager of the local store. Or any store for that matter, I've got a better chance of being struck by lightning, a plane, train, car, bus, and bitten by both a rabid squirrel and drunk old man at the same time.

I finally managed to catch a ride up to Roanoke with a friend who needed to go for whatever reason. I took a nice long note with me, about how their company had really inconvenienced me, and how I wanted the original things fixed in the original time. I had papers to back up how incompetent they'd been, and all sortsa goodness. Of course, the head of the department tells me the "it takes 8 to 10 days to ship off the computer", which is a blatant lie, I've gotten my computer back in 8 to 10 days after having requested rush service.

So the lady supposedly takes my document to the store manager. Of course, he's not in (he doesn't work saturdays, or any other day of the week, it seems, but this didn't dawn on me until I was out of the store), but miraculously, this area manager has both shown him my document, as well as gotten the OK from him to ship it for repairs, rushed, with document, to DEX repair company (I've been trying to get their contact info for years, so I could yell at them, or at least threaten lawsuit, but no, Best Buy isn't allowed to give that information), which is somewhere in the region (or so says Best Buy, as far as I know, it could be on Saturn...).

I'm told I can expect my computer back October 12th. It comes, goes, and guess what! no computer. No call. Nothing. So I place the call (of god only knows how many, and how much money I've spent making so many long distance calls), only to be told, no, it' not in, we don't know, blahblahblah.

I'd threatened legal action, as I'd consulted with a lawyer on several occasions, but I decided I'd give them a chance to clear this up.

On the 17th, after days of calling, and no one knowing anything, I'm told "it looks like they'e going to give you a replacement".

More calling about the damn replacement.
More nothing.

So around the 20th of October, I filed a complaint with the Better Business Bureau. (an you believe that Best Buy is a BBB company? That's hilarious.) More calling between the BBB, myself, Best Buy, and home. I hate using the phone, everyone knows it, and I'd spent more time on the phone behind this computer than I'd done in the past few years.

Around the end of Novemeber, I was told that I would be recieving my voucher or comparable replacement, as well as a gift card for 100 dollars. (Great, more junk and stress from Best Buy. Perhaps I'll use it on batteries.)

I call the lady handling my case, and after many "she'll call you back"s, I angrily state that I've been expecting a call, and when she calls, I explain to her that 100 dollars is ridiculous, because I've been through so much, that it seems like no one really cares what's happened. Not to mention that I'm in school for Computer Engineering (yes, I do throw that around when necessary), and I've not had my computer at all the whole semester.

So she tosses in an extra 150 (because that's all she can do), and after calming me down, we work out that I can waltz into any store, pick up voucher, waltz out, and use the voucher any time I please, so I can wait until they have a decent computer that isnt just an overpriced dvd player. I let her know that I was very displeased with the service I'd recieved at the Roanoke 434 store, about how the Store Manager was never in, and how I'd been lied to several times (once with Jason, they tried to pass off Product Protection or something odd like that off as the Store manager).

I call back later to ensure that "Whoa, your warranty expired a week ago, we can't do this" won't happen when I get home.

Surprisingly, it doesn't. Go figure.

I drive 45 minutes out to Chesterfield 422, so that I can pick waltz in, get voucher, waltz out, and hoard it until I'm ready to use it.

No voucher, they can't give them when the store manager isn't in (no Best Buy manager is *ever* in), or on the weekends, or something like that. The guy allegedly stayed on the hold with Customer Care for 15 minutes, but I call BS.

While storming about the store, I witnessed, horror of horrors, a sales rep LYING to a customer about their warranty. "Dell won't replace your laptop if it breaks..." I gave those reps the "I can't believe you just lied to that woman like that" look, and came back to her later, and let her know that 1) those reps lied to her; 2)any computer manufacturer these days has a "well replace it, no matter what" warranty; and that 3) getting a computer replaced through Best Buy was god awful, and told her the briefest possible version of my story. She thanked me and left, saying that their stuff was looking rather sketchy anwyay.

I decided I'd stop by the store closer to home, even though I really didn't like it and would rather do business with the store that I purchased the computer from. The Geek Squad there was the most awesome I'd dealt with, since sending buddy off in July. They'd looked up info for me, tried to call around, and let me know to call "Customer Care" the next day, and ask what was up. They told me that what happened was DEX's fault, enough so for them to write it off as a code "SCRAP", and that they had never followed through with their end of things.

I called Customer Care a few days later, as I had been busy. I was told to haul ass to the nearest store, to pick up my voucher. I get to the store, only to have to wait for several calls to be made, be shown a paper with "exchange" written on it (when I had been clearly saying voucher to everyone involved), and then told by the store manager (whom I feel is both racist and sexist, and those are very rare things for me to feel ) in an oh so sleazy sort of way that "oh, I think I'm going to give you a comparable replacement". I told him that was unacceptable, I had been saying voucher, and I would rather have a voucher, on the grounds that there were no "comparable replacement"s in the store. At this point, he becomes somewhat indignant, and proceeds to tell me that "we can find something with more bells and whistles than the one you had". I tell him no, that's not going to happen, there are *no* comparable replacements. He tells me that expecting to find somethign comparable to my three year old computer is like comparing a plasma tv to an LCD tv (two completely different things, no matter how you look at them). He then tells me that because I have used my warranty, I could not get a voucher (Last I checked, warranty and computer were two separate purchases...). I told him that I could not accept his "offer", and would be contacting the proper people. (Mind you, all this time, I had been as calm as I could, given the amount of crap I've had to go through trying to get my computer fixed, and he had been getting progressively more rude, especially for a Store Manager dealing with a frustrated customer.) He says "well here's my name so you can tell them who you were talking to", and hurriedly scribbles it down on a sheet of paper. I can't even make out the last name.

I ran into Katy, whom I hadn't seen since I graduated. I stood in the middle of the store, crying to her about what had been going on, and how if it werent so idiotic, and I didn't love my computer so much, I'd have given up on it.
When I went to ponder to her about Matthew (scribble) being the store manager, he rudely butts into my conversation and hisses "Yes I am the store manager".

I left not soon after, and began calling the lady in charge of my BBB complaint to request a corporate voucher, so that I wouldn't have to deal with the awful service in the stores, and the "oh, we didn't give you that voucher, you can't use it here" vibe that I'd started to get from the varying stores. I've called several times, to be told "she'll call you back" by whomever it is operating the dispatch-y sort of thing, because she's always on the phone whenever I call. I've yet to recieve that call.

I'm going to call tomorrow. I'd better get to speak to this woman.

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