The Long, Hard, Deep Goodbye

Dear loyal readers, disloyal readers, customers who unknowingly stumbled upon this blog looking for internet coupons (and/or porn) and became instant fans, and customers who came upon this incendiary website looking for contact information of the owner in order to write annoying complaint letters about the employees only to find blog posts seemingly written about them,

It is the end of an era. The three most important men in the world - James Brown, Gerald Ford and Saddam Hussein - have all died recently, and as they are each my contemporaries and my idols (in their own unique ways), I too will be making a passage onto a better place. You could say that like Saddam, and perhaps even James Brown, where I am going will likely be filled with at least 72 virgins. At least in the freshman class, anyway. That's right - I'm going to college.

I planned out the last 5 years of my life perfectly: After high school, work at the same job long enough to kill my spirit, and then, after saving just enough money to not be able to afford anything, and at the height of my popularity in Fairfield (socially, politically and sexually), uproot myself and move to a new, far more expensive city to be old enough as an undergraduate student for some of my female classmates to actually exclaim "gross! That's like, statutory rape or something. Look at his beard... Is he a professor?". I guess statutory is better than date rape, which they will surely be willingly engage in later that night, as will I.

My reign of terror and unwelcome sexual advances at The Wave is over... at least until I finally realize what a scam college is and come back to earn some extra money for my newly developed drug habit. Working for "The Man" again will surely be against my newly developed anti-establishment, socialist economic and political views, but it can't hurt my newly developed credit card debt. What I'm saying, basically, is that college is about positive new developments.

This is just a preliminary message to let everyone know what I'm doing and why I haven't posted much in a while. Hopefully while I'm not using all my creative (and sexual) juices at the wave, I can focus them on posting more instead of working, and instead of doing school work.For the record, and so you don't have to keep asking, I'll be there at school for sexual experimentation and writing. This often makes people ask "Really? You? Writing? You can't spell, and you can barely speak in full sentences... OOOKK.. WHATEVER! Good luck with that...". I have no answer for you, or your rude attitude. I lost a bet where the stakes were enrolling in a college for writing, so...

I have not yet decided what will come of The Showcase of Depravity; it's power is beyond my control. It's very much like malevolent computer HAL 9000 , and for that matter, my father, in that it would surely kill me before I kill it. In fact, both Blogger and my father remind me of this constantly on a weekly basis through email updates.

Until then, do yourself a favor and go through the archives; relive all the things you loved about this motley crew of rag tag ragamuffins and their rantings about unbelievably stupid customers. For now, let it be a relic of a successful project on failure (or a failure project on success, depending on how you look at my time at The Wave), which has a defined beginning and ending.

I assure you there will be more posts coming, including unfinished posts from days past (including a ridiculously late Halloween post) and brand new happenings on the store front (including hilariously innocent vandalism of the store wall's mural).

As always, I desperately request that you read my other "blog", What The Balls?.
Also, check out Drew's blog about life as an out-of-the-closet metrosexual, Zombie Politics. It's sure to offend and titillate.

Here is the "Hey, I'm a dog" card I imagine Media Wave would have sent me, had they done anything for my departure at all.




I leave The Wave as I came: questioning my sexuality, my belief in God, how people so stupid can be so rich, and ready for a fight.

-Jordan

What Would Chev Chelios Watch?

This week I decided to be, as a customer trying to be cute said, "different" with my Employee Picks section. I decided, as you will read, that since I won't be around much to change up my picks, I might as well dedicate it to perhaps the single greatest movie experience known to man. No, I don't mean The Godfather, Jurassic Park or even The Stupids. I printed out a little write up to explain my wild, boundary-breaking choice, and here it is:

Instead of recommending cult classics, lesser known sleepers, off-beat comedies and movies with the word “Teen” in the title, I am choosing to use my power of influence of my Picks Section to promote the best movie ever made, ever: “CRANK”. Rent “Crank” now.

Reasons why:

1. It’s called CRANK, for obvious reasons, and reasons not so obvious that will be revealed while the thrilling plot unravels. All other enticing plot points must be withheld for the sake of the full throttle Crank experience

2. It’s what “Snakes On A Plane” should have been, but without the hype or the snakes

3. Because I told you to, that’s why.

Warning: This film will literally blow your mind, in both good and medically adverse ways, so it’s best to watch it while wearing a helmet or medical gauze. The affect of this film is so great that it might cause you to start hating your family members, and make you want to punch someone just for the thrill of it. Pregnant women should not view this film. It contains a level of ridiculous adrenaline so high that it would cause birth defects, and that’s if the baby doesn’t punch it’s way out from becoming a man so quickly just by absorbing what doctors refer to as “’Crank’ waves”. People opposed to product placement, gratuitous sex and violence (if there is such a thing) should not view “Crank” unless they want to become a totally different person, but if you are opposed to gratuitous sex and violence, you probably aren’t looking at my picks section.

Best of luck in your new, post-“Crank” life

-Jordan

That's just the kind of thing you get at Media Wave - asshole clerks writing essays to tell you what to watch. Oh well. I hope customers come away from this forgetting the phrase "What Would Jesus Do?" and replacing it with the more practical and cocaine-addled "What Would Chev Chelios Do?"

-Jordan

Santa? Give me a break

Gift certificates to Media Wave are a popular way to show your kids you understand them on a personal level, while proving that the true meaning of Christmas isn't about gifts or money but rather about love - a gesture best made with a generic gift card for exactly $20 dollars.

Aside from my fundamental problems with the idea of gift cards (although, when it comes to any other aspect of life, my usual motto is: the less thought and effort, the better), what made me laugh this gift season more than anything else was the following transaction between myself and an optimistic if not over zealous holiday shopper.

Me: How much would you like the gift certificate for?
Customer: Twenty dollars please
Me: Perfect. And is there anything else I should write on it?
Customer: put "from Santa"
Me: You know it says "Media Wave in Fairfield" right there on it, and not "The North Pole", right?
Customer: Yea, that's fine.

Now, trying to get your kids to believe that there is 1 old fat man who brings dozens of expensive toys that he and some elves have somehow made by hand in his workshop - toys these kids see on TV and in toy stores clearly made by brand manufacturers - to millions, if not billions of kids (but only the good ones), on one day and only one day once a year is already hard enough.

To think Santa even has enough energy for this exhausting feat of agility, despite his many degenerative health disorders from his morbid obesity and the fact that he is at least 500 years old and lives on a diet of milk and cookies, is ridiculous. Believe me, the people at Cookie Crisp cereal are lying - cookies, while delicious, are not so much nutritious, and do not provide you with what you need for a day's work.

Then parents expect their kids to believe that this one hard-working superman toymaker also happens to be available for 2 weeks before Christmas to appear in their very own local shopping mall, and logically, no one else's.

And on top of all that, they try to pass off a gift certificate for a store in their own town as being from Santa, despite how it is obviously sold exclusively to Media Wave customers. As if before he stopped of at little Timmy Smith's house, Santa went into the local video store and asked for a gift certificate. "It was the only thing on Timmy's list this year, and he was a very good boy", Santa would say.

But I guess it works, and that's what's wrong our nations children - they're dumbasses, and so are their parents. There I said it.

-Jordan

Happy New Year Card

Hey everyone
A new one from my on going series of Cardz Wit At'tude, otherwise known as the "Hey, I'm a dog" series of generic holiday cards. Happy New Year, yall!




This and all other cards from this series are available at www.heyimadog.blogspot.com, the official Hey, I'm a dog! site. Enjoy, and feel free (please, I beg you) to spread it to your friends, leave them as comments on myspace, print them out for your friends and family, give them to the homeless (it's the least you can do). But if you do, try to post a link to any of my 3 websites (this one, blog.myspace.com/whattheballs, or www.heyimadog.blogspot.com)

Thanks. Safe carding.

-Jordan