The Better To Hear You With

J-Fed's latest rant was about cell phones. Apparently, J-Fed can’t make phone calls in his new apartment because the reception is no good. And this surely poses a problem. J-Fed must be in communicado at all times. How else will he talk to his harem? Most people don’t realize that the Fedster runs a support hotline for wayward wives and desperate women.
And they’d be lost without being able to dial dipstick and hear him say, “Hello beautiful…”

Secretly, I found his lack of phone reception to be poetic justice. After all, I’d spent years with no reception from him on many accounts. Anyways, I guess J-Fed had missed one too many booty calls or whatever the hell they were. This, in turn, sent him into a rage. So of course, E.T. phoned home.

“I need you to call the cell phone company and cancel my account,” he demanded.

“I’m a little busy today J-Fed. You know, I’ve got that whole work and kids thing going on. I know it’s inconvenient but maybe you can make like a big boy and do it yourself,” I told him scathingly.

“I would, BUT IT’S IN YOUR NAME,” he yelled.

Of course it is do-do bird. That’s because you couldn’t take the time or the effort to set up your own cell phone account. You had to have me do it, and then you didn’t have the time to get it switched over into your own name. I guess maybe if you had taken the time do any one of these things, you’d be able to talk to the cell phone company. But that’s just a thought for the thoughtless…

“J-Fed, even if you wanted to cancel your account, you can’t. You have a contract,” I gave him the bad news.

“How the hell did that happen?” he screamed. “My contract should be up next month.”

I always loved it when J-Fed threw out random statements, like they were facts. No, J-Fed, in reality J-Fed, your contract doesn’t end for another year. Do you know why? Because you upgraded your phone after dropping your second Blackberry into the ocean. So maybe if your cell hadn’t landed in the water, you’d be able to break that little thing they call a contract. Sheeeeeeesh. Even from far away, he still had the ability to make me miserable.

Maybe I should make a phone call of my own. It would go something like this…

Calling all cars. Calling all cars. Be on the look out for an estranged idiot husband who believes it’s my responsibility to fix all his problems. Hey, J-Fed don’t you think I have enough to do with my spare time, considering I’m over here with two kids, two dogs and your stray cat? If I did work for the phone company, I’d reach and touch someone and it would be you with a left hook.

Does it look like I work in the customer service department of the cell phone company? Mmmm, not so much. Oh that’s right, I don’t work. I forgot. That’s why I don’t need a nanny and I have all of the time in the world to be an assistant to the ass.

J-Fed, why don’t you call 911 ? They might be able to help you in getting your head checked. Because once again, you need a reminder… love don’t live here anymore and neither do you. Fix your phone problems yourself, jerk off.