� Memoirs of an Evil Genius �
Conquering the World, One Martini at a Time |
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� Taxing My Patience �
11:05 a.m., 2004-03-31
I�m getting kind of a late start in typing up today�s entry. I spent most of the morning in a fit of homicidal pique that very nearly brought me to tears. Ultimately what it brought me to was the realization that I should really just never attempt to do my own taxes ever, ever again. Although I�m very happy to report that I�m getting a refund this year, my pleasure is offset rather greatly by the fact that TurboTax is the devil himself, and last night I apparently entered into a fool�s bargain with him. I made the (now obvious) mistake of attempting to purchase a software download so I could file my state taxes (which I frankly consider insulting), only to find out that it didn�t work. So they took my money for a product that failed to work, and I got online and went to their Help & Support center -- which I should point out is about as helpful and supportive as a bra made out of greasepaint -- where I found out I had to jump through one flaming hoop after another until I could enter into a "chat" with a "customer service representative". I put these things in quotes, because despite what they told me, I don�t think I was conversing with an actual human being: SERVICE REP: Hello, Dr. No! How may I be of service to you?Dr. No: I purchased some software from you guys, but it won�t download. Can I have a refund, or maybe get the software mailed out to me? SERVICE REP: Dr. No, may I ask what software you are using? Dr. No: I�ve already used the basic federal tax program, and I need the state tax software. But it won�t download. SERVICE REP: Dr. No, may I ask if you�ve downloaded the oneclick update for your software? Dr. No: I haven�t been able to download fuck-all, that�s the whole problem! Can�t I get my money back so I can just buy it in the store? And why do you preface everything with my name, like that? It�s creeping me out. SERVICE REP: Dr. No, many simple problems can be solved by simply downloading the oneclick update! Just go to the online options and select Download Updates! Dr. No: I can�t download, you fuckhead! Are you even paying attention? SERVICE REP: Dr. No, do you have your TurboTax software open? The options heading should be at the top. Dr. No: Are you on drugs?? I�m not going to waste any more time trying to download shit! Just refund my money or mail the damn software out to me! SERVICE REP: Dr. No, I�m e-mailing you a link to download the state tax software you requested, but you must use it within 24 hours! Let me know if you have any more questions! Dr. No: Fuck you very much, you fucking fuckstick. Burn in hell. So I don�t think I was speaking with an actual human. Well, not a very good one, in any case. So I got back online this morning at the office and wasted another half-hour of my life trying to get some kind of service over there -- you know, just between you and me, they really, really suck. It�s not like they just provide you with a customer service number so you can get help; you have to fill out all these forms, and if you want phone advice it costs another $20, and only after you�ve paid do they give you a contact number. And there�s no email either, just that asinine "chat" thing.So my computer froze four times as I was trying to get assistance, and I finally called my credit card company and told them the whole situation and they�re going to dispute the charge on my behalf, so it won�t end up costing me anything, and TurboTax can take a great big purge and blow it their ass, because they�re not getting a dime out of me! Ha! Fuckers. Someone Got Here By Searching For: "gay irish boy" [Hey, I�m looking for that, too!] And: trenyce votes producers I�m Watching: American Idol, a little bit. I watch for a couple seconds, see how badly they�re going to suck, and then change the channel. Exploitation doesn�t amuse me as much anymore. And: 24. You go, Michelle. I�d have shot that guy�s whiny bitch ass myself, and with far less justification. A Year Ago, I Said:And Eric Balfour jumped out into the crowd, and he was all sweaty and gross and people were touching him anyway, and I�m sorry -- I may be a crazy fame whore, but that�s just nasty.
A Brush With Fame
3-31-2003
� 2005 by Dr. No, all rights reserved; you break it, you buy it.
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