Don't Kill Dogs

Mr. Vick,

What a tumultuous few weeks it has been for you! I cannot begin to understand the amount of pressure you have been under while being in the eye of public scrutiny. It seems that everyone in the country has been piling on to belittle and berate you based on one particular instance of bad judgment. The media seems to be flaunting every trivial development, the pundits are out to decry dog fighting in general, and your fans are turning their backs on you and destroying merchandise bearing your name.

This comes along with an indefinite suspension from the NFL, the Falcons organization jumping on the Vick-bashing bandwagon, and sponsorships dropping left and right. At the moment, you are facing financial ruin, no livelihood, and the probability of jail time for what happened.

Mr. Vick, I believe you are good person at heart and only plead guilty to the agreement to avoid a drawn-out trial process which likely would not have come out in your favor. Yes, the events in question may have taken place on your property, with your financing, involving your entourage, and under your guidance, but that surely does not mean you were totally responsible for it. After all, isn't dog fighting a cultural anomaly that outsiders cannot understand? Which southern tradition is next: grits, fried bologna, NASCAR?

I would have to agree with Tom Joyner that the punishment does not fit the crime. What you did was wrong, Michael, but jail time and no football? Quite a smidge excessive and it appears the prosecutors are trying to vilify you. After all, hasn’t this ordeal been bothersome enough for you? As it is now, you are a pariah and no one wants anything to do with you due to all the legal wrangling. I suppose time will tell if is temporary exile (Kobe) or more permanent (OJ). Besides, it’s not like you killed … well never mind that.

Hang tight, Vick! We’ll be anxiously awaiting your return to the public eye (that is if you ever leave)

/sarcasm


Image © of MSNBC

this could be the beginning of a beautiful friendship ...

... but more than likely will just be a waste of the internet tubes.

I'll spare you the boring details of my life and just skip to where we are now.

I hate my job. You may say that is not uncommon as most people don't like their jobs. However, the level of hatred I have for the customers I deal with and the idiots I have to work for transcends mere dislike. It is more appropriate to say I despise my current position. Unfortunately, upon doing my part in increasing consumer debt and as a fraction of those households that live paycheck to paycheck, I really don't have any other alternatives.

As such, I have high hopes that this blog will act as catharsis for all the pent up anger and rage that I accumulate over the course of eight hours.

For the past 14 months, I have worked as a customer service rep at a call center for a piddly cell phone provider. It probably goes to say that most call center jobs are stressful and deal with the depths of human ignorance. I can't confirm not deny as this is my first, and God-willing last, job in such an environment. Normal calls can range from the simple ("What is my balance?") to the extreme ("Turn my motherf-ing phone back on now, retard!") and pretty much everything in between.

Most days, I feel like going home and drinking away the preceding horrendously bad day. As a matter of fact, that is what I do most of the time. My hope is that expressing my feelings will be a much more cost-effective manner of coping without the liver damage!

I suppose time will tell.