No remote. Fuck!
Sometimes, after a long day, I really look forward to coming home and doing nothing but kickin my feet up and channel surfing: Today was one of those days.
Up ahead lay a seemingly endless night of not remaining on a channel for more than 8 seconds. Which, by the way is also the same amount of time it takes to successully ride a bull. Just long enough to form an opinion and crack a witty quote. This is the kind of shit I've grown to love. The Dame will tell you I'm neurotic, I say that I'm settling in.
After taking the dog out for his nightly walk, I eagerly poured myself a giant glass of flavored agua and headed for the lazy boy. All I needed was one quick pit stop by the "
Basket containing All Things Controlling" and pick up my weapon of commercial destruction. As I got closer I could see something was a miss. It wasn't there.
My night began to unravel, and before I knew it I was elbows deep in the couch sifting through crumbs and various unknown particulates.
No Luck. Anywhere.
So I'm forced to sit through a bombardment of sales pitches. It's truly amazing what they are trying to sell me.