More Rootin' Tootin' Than A Badger

I know you've not spent a lot of time wondering what kind of a weirdo could be married to me.

I'm here to tell you, he might just be the best kind, but that's my humble opinion and some days it might change just a little. But seriously, he kicks ass.

Two-days ago we got a call from our satellite television provider to see when we are going to pay our bill. Jason was a little short with them and when he got off the phone I asked him what that was all about.

As I said, they were looking for their payment. That wasn't due for 12 more days.

Huh?

Rough times I guess.

So last night when Jason walked downstairs and turned on his beloved HD beast the little shiny box underneath cheerily gave him a message that read:

DVR service not available at this time. Please contact your satellite provider.

With that I hear this great cry of "You've got to be shitting me!" (he's such a poet) come rumbling up the stairs as he ran up to grab the phone.

Lamely I inquired what the dealeo was and he told me.

Boy, did he.

Then he informed me that he would be rebooting the box, going to the garage to smoke and when he came back if that fucker wasn't working, he was going to call the company and tell whatever foreigner that answered the phone that he was more rootin' tootin' than a badger and they have no idea who they just pissed off.

Seriously.

Okay he was only half serious, but he was going to say it. I know he was.

I had visions of his call being used in their training centers all across India. I feared YouTube might even be involved. If I'd been smart enough I would have grabbed my own camera and made it happen.

Luckily, for every one involved, that piece of shit DVR knew what was good for it and worked just right when he returned.

However, I will never stop using the term More Rootin' Tootin' Than A Badger as long as I live now.

You can trust that.

Which makes me want to make t-shirts that say:

This Rootin' Tootin' Badger Survived The Mexican Emo-Riots of 2008.

Because did you hear about that shit? Really? That's the best you've got to be upset about?

I mean you don't see me punching sad little Emo Kid that works at the local McD's with his fast food visor crammed down on his oh so black emo kid hair, in the face do you? (run on much?)

The most I would ever do is shake him hard and tell him he looks stupid. But that's for another day.