Friday, May 7, 2004

Once again a stoner has shown us the way.

My move to California has been a series of misadventures, but nothing tops dealing with DirectTV. After two separate appointments by two separate incompetent installers, both of whom were at my apartment a grand total of 5 minutes before announcing they couldn't hook us up, I got Kevin.

Kevin, the slightly hippy installer who just screamed "High-On." Kevin, who said, "Sure no problem! In fact, you won't need any of this equipment you bought (2 poles and a tripod)." Kevin, the man I thought about running away with and marrying after he installed the dish and our two receivers.

I love you Kevin.

Now all that's left is for my boyfriend to come home, call DirectTV, and activate our service.

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