Phone Phun

There are four groundline cordless phones in the Trollhouse. (I add the word groundline because we also have a cell phone for each family member and they are a different rant altogether.)

I hate each and every one of them.

When we first bought them, I thought it was a good idea to have phones for every part of the house.

Boy was I wrong.

These things disappear like dope in a junkie’s veins. They hide under tissues in the boy’s room and have super secret meetings in MrsTroll’s office where they hide to run out their batteries. They are never easy to find when they ring and are impossible to find when you are in a hurry to answer one.

I have found phones in the trash, the fridge, the bed, under the bed, the bathroom, the dog’s bed, a sock drawer, the garage, the dishwasher, and once in a car. (In the backseat, under a coat.)

I used to play the “Phone scramble” game, but now I just ignore the ringing and pretend that I have been struck dumb and stupid seconds before someone decided to call. It actually works if no one is in the house to see me.

Nowdaze, the only way I will answer the phone is if it is under my ass and poking me in the hole when it goes off. Otherwise forget it. I am tired of chasing the damn plastic thing to learn that some salesman needs to meet his quota of selling useless gadgets to underage weasels. (Auditory spam?)

If you really need to talk to me, call me on my cell. I will answer that. (If I remember to bring it onto the house, recognize the caller ID, and actually care enough to push the button.)

And while I am ranting about phones, I want a very short rant about cell phones:

I think that phone video is cool, I really do, but I DO NOT want to see your “Special Porn “ on your phone! Keep that shit to yourself! The next person holding a cell phone and saying, “Have you seen the horse?” is gonna get knocked on his ass!

(I stopped that shit at work by asking one guy how he got his wife to do that kind of disgusting behavior. He was very offended. I win.)