I always wondered what the Internet looked like in real life.
There are plenty of mysteries in the world. Stonehenge. Atlantis. Nascar. One thing that doesn’t need a fucking investigation is the quick fix of a Telescreen router.
An angry old asshole called in and got super pissed because he couldn’t understand technology. Yes, this is a daily occurrence. I mean, the guy got confused about absolutely fucking everything. I was surprised he could carry on a conversation at that matter. Well, by conversation, I mean him just complaining about the “damned Interweb.”
He couldn’t figure out why his “Interweb” suddenly “vanished.” Why? Because he’s a fucking moron. The mystery of the vanishing Interweb solved in four seconds.
After talking to him for a whole 20 seconds, I could immediately tell he was fucking stupid, caused this whole fucking problem, and that he was really just an asshole. Don’t blame me because you’re stupid, gramps.
Winston: “Okay sir, we need to reset the router. What you’ll do is unplug the power from the box…”
Customer: “Wait, what? You mean this damned Interweb machine?”
Winston: “Correct, you’ll need to pull the power from…”
Customer: “Damnit, slow down! What do I pull?”
“Hold on, I’m just reading our monthly email usage.”
Wow, it’s been almost a year since we’ve ridiculed ESP email addresses. I dare say this is long overdue. You know the old saying: Give an ESP an email account and they won’t know how to use it. Teach an ESP how to create an email account and they’ll make it something really fucking stupid.
email@example.com: What in the fuck is the point of this? Why would anyone in their right mind have the word “poo” in an email address? On second thought, why is “poo” in there twice? Sometimes I can’t even begin to rationalize the stupidity I encounter.
firstname.lastname@example.org: Well I think congratulations are in order. No, what am I thinking, this must be the email of a framing business, right? A nail manufacturing plant? Either way, I’m sorry Mr. Well Hung, but you didn’t get the job. Something about that email address really didn’t say “team player” or “problem solver.”
email@example.com: What the fuck does that even mean?
firstname.lastname@example.org: Everyone was wondering who Mike Wagner’s mom was. They especially wanted to know when an email came in. So Mike’s mom created an email account accordingly. Let us be clear that her name heeds no importance whatsoever. We just need to know that she’s Mike Wagner’s mom.
email@example.com: No way I’m answering an email from the Grim Reaper, even if that asshole can’t figure out how to turn on the TV.
Even the pumpkins party too hard on Halloween.
Well gentle reader, it’s Halloween, the day we like to spend scaring the shit out of ourselves. That and eating candy, walking around looking like dumbasses, and getting really drunk. It’s a really great holiday.
Anyway, I thought what better way to enjoy this spooky day than to share some scary Halloween stories. What’s more frightening than an extremely stupid person? Not much, but lets see what we’ve got:
Customer: “I turned off the lights so they won’t find me.”
Fellow Agent: “Who?”
Customer: “The aliens. They’s after me. I be talking to you in a closet. Is this line secure?”
Assessment: Though I got this from a fellow agent, I can vouch that we don’t make this shit up. I know it sounds fake, but review every previous post and you’ll understand that people really are this fucking stupid. And aliens do go after illiterate Rednecks. SCARY.
A history lesson while I buy a Slim Jim? Score.
Well hot damn gentle reader, we did it. We hit the century mark! 100 stories of stupidity. If you’ve been with me from the beginning, you know the impossible is possible. A normal person may believe in the intelligence of the human race. Yet we have 100 examples that there are some real fucking morons out there. Really dumb people. I’m talking about extremely stupid people here.
Now I’m not trying to be defeatist by any means, because quite a bit of good can come from 100 stories of stupid. Had a shitty day at work? Feel better by laughing at those with lesser intelligence. Did something dumb today? Boost your self-esteem by realizing you aren’t a dirty Redneck that can’t count past 2 (the number of Busch Lights ordered in a round at the bar).
I’ve got plenty more than a hundred stories, believe me. It seems like I can’t stay ahead of them. Everyday I go to the call center, really not wanting anyone to be so fucking ridiculous, but I’ll be damned, they just keep on coming. Endless stupidity.
So while we’re talking about numbers, allow me to enlighten you with a story about a man that got really fucking pissed over a really fucking small number.
Winston: “What do you mean you’ve been charged? Your service hasn’t even been setup yet.”
Customer: “I have my bank statement right here and I see a charge. I can send it to you, because I’m not blind!”
Words alone can’t even begin to explain what’s wrong with this man.
Because Telescreen caters to the “rural” individuals, the channels they provide are Redneck by nature. You can’t miss shows featuring country music, truck driving, Conservative politics, fishing, guns, Nascar, and all that other worthless stupid shit Rednecks love. Side-note: Why in fucks name do they love Nascar? I mean, it’s just a bunch of assholes driving in circles. What the fuck?
Anyway, Telescreen released a new package called “The Heart of America” package for those individuals in the American Heartland or some shit like that. Translation: all of your Redneck channels in one convenient location. It has the fishing channel, the stupid fucking car racing channel, the shitty country music channel, I mean, all the dumb shit. Because Rednecks are so poor, they made it available for the low price of $5 per month. You would think this would be Redneck’s dream, but no no, they still can’t quite handle it.
Winston: “If you’re wanting the fishing channel, I’d recommend The Heart of America package. It has tons of great stuff.”
You can see my salesman skills at work. By “great stuff” I mean stupid pointless shit that Rednecks love, like Glenn Beck.
Customer: “Now what else is gonna come with this ‘Merica package?”
“Calm down Grandma. Those kids definitely didn’t walk through your petunias.”
When Telescreen customers don’t pay their bills, Telescreen turns off their service. When customers think TV is too fucking important, they have a shit fit when they can’t watch something worthless like “Dancing With The Stars.” When they can’t watch worthless programming, they call customer service to bitch and complain. When customer service tells them they should pay their fucking bill, they lose their shit and end up talking to Super Department. When customers get to Super Department, they try to give bullshit excuses as to why they didn’t pay their bill in hopes of getting their service turned for free. When I get a bullshit excuse, I laugh and then post about it unbeknownst to the customer on this blog.
Customer: “Man, you gotta get my service back on, I ain’t going nowhere ’til you do.”
Winston: “I’m sorry sir, but the service was shutoff due to nonpayment. I can’t restore services until the $46.77 is collected. I’m happy to take that payment for you over the phone.”
Then there was a long pause followed by a deep sigh.
Customer: “Listen man, I had some stuff happen to me, aight? I got shot. You hear that man, I got shot!”
Free-range, organic chicken, available at Whole Foods.
As you’ve probably gathered, I’ve had plenty of threats against my life over the last couple of years. There have been too many to count and even too many to mention all of them on the blog. I can only justifiably mention the creative and original threats, like this one:
Winston: “I’m sorry ma’am, but I can’t get the refund back to you sooner than three to five business days. It has to clear with your bank first, but we have no control over that process.”
Customer: “Na-na-na-na. You think you can get away with this?”
Winston: “Ma’am, we made sure the refund was sent to the bank yesterday…”
Customer: “Na-na-na-na. You’re gonna hang for this, you hear me? You’re gonna hang mister! You’re gonna hang!”
Hmm. I can’t make money magically appear so I’m going to be executed? By way of a noose? No, this isn’t the fucking 1600′s and I’m not a fucking witch. It must have been a figure of speech or something, because that made no sense whatsoever. Even literally speaking, I don’t think the death penalty is sentenced to people who can’t get a refund sooner than three business days.
And another fun filled day at the DMV began.
Can you believe it, gentle reader? The wild and crazy world of Extremely Stupid People turns two years old as of today!
I know, I’m excited too. Not excited that I’m still working in the Hell on Earth known as Telescreen Inc, but excited that the blog is still rolling and capturing stupidity after all these years (um…two).
Last year at this time, I contemplated the viability of keeping the blog going. Low readership, a large time commitment, and basically having to relive my life at the call center even when I wasn’t there made me consider shutting ESP down. But I quit being a crying bitch and continued on. Since then, the blog was featured on the WordPress Freshly Pressed page and we gained lots of new intelligent followers. Readership isn’t crazy high or anything, but at least we have a solid crew of people that can join in on making fun of fucking idiots. I also made a new friend, Charlie Blue Dot, that will be collaborating and joining the fun here at ESP. Nothing else of note really happened throughout the year other than that. Just lots of posts about stupid people.
I came to realize over the last year that this blog will need to continue on, whether I have one reader or one million. Whether you read this blog once a month or dutifully each time a new post plops into your inbox, I think ESP can bring some good to the world, even if I do say “fuck” and “shit” a lot. Fuck. Shit. I know it’s made me feel better about having to get screamed at by angry asshole redneck pieces of shit all day. If your job is decidedly shitty, maybe these ESP stories can make your day a little brighter. Maybe you don’t have a job and are tired of watching infomercials. Maybe you just enjoy pointing and laughing at dumb people. I know I do.
“Hey neighbor, I think you parked your ‘truck’ on my tree stump.”
Conversations With Rex
I have been following Winston’s blog since its genesis. Stories of ESP’s and dumb rednecks are not only funny, but give you some perspective on your own intelligence. Litmus tests, if you will. Chances are, if you’re sympathetic with the customer in any of Winston’s stories, you’re probably an ESP yourself.
But what happens when you leave your semi-comfortable work setting and have to deal with the gun-toting, gay-bashing, Christ-loving idiots in the real world? Well, I have the case study for you and he is my next door neighbor…Rex.
Rex in his very nature is a simple kind of guy. One would describe him as a Salt-of-the-Earth character. I don’t understand what that means. Presumably because Rednecks tend to have high-sodium diets and earthy body odors. But Rex is 58 years old and it doesn’t appear he has ever stepped foot outside of his suburban Midwestern community. With his simplicity comes an approachable demeanor and a willingness to offer a neighborly hand, sometimes without request.
I’m driving right that fuck past that supply store.
I tell you what gentle reader, there is just too much fucking stupidity for one man to ridicule by himself. I could spend all day, everyday, sharing ESP stories from my time at Telescreen and I’d still have posts leftover. Yet that’s just while I’m at work, because after I leave the dungeon known as the Telescreen call center, it’s stupidity on the roads, on TV, and inside mother fucking Perkins. I know you all have the same issue as you go about your intelligent lives, so I created “Your Stories” and “Your Posts” to allow you all to share the stupidity. The readers have definitely risen to the challenge, with tons of hilarious stories sent my way and posted as comments throughout the many blog posts on ESP.
Yet one man had far too many stories to share and wanted to start his own blog about stupidity. I think the idea came about with beer in hand, which is always the best way to make decisions. So I invited him to join me here on ESP because, I’ll be damned, two is better than one in the fight against stupidity. So now I will no longer be the sole writer on the blog, but will be collaborating with a new author by the name of Charlie Blue Dot.
Now Charlie has one Hell of a problem. He doesn’t work in an evil shithole like Telescreen. He doesn’t live in the backwoods of Mississippi. But he does live right next door to the craziest Redneck around named Rex. He has been telling me and everyone else the most ridiculous stories about Rex, but it’s not really about what Rex does. It’s always about the dumbest fucking shit that Rex says. So from here on out, Charlie will contribute to ESP by posting “Conversations With Rex.”