All right, goddamn internet modem, thingie. Yeah you, you smug little blinkie box. You are the third one that I’ve been shipped in the brief six month stint I’ve had this elusive wi-fi in my house. I’m back to stealing the signal from my upstairs neighbor because apparently it’s too hard to do what you’re supposed to do for more than 30 seconds. Listen to me, you’re making me sound like Andy Rooney. Not cool.

“Why is it every time I try to get on the internet, it’s impossible to open a package these days? And ice cream shouldn’t melt so fast. I’m Andy Rooney, funk dat.”

Hey roto-rooter-router , your mother’s dial-up. No, that’s too nice.

I’ve had better. With COMCAST.

I feel dirty just saying that. Ugh.

Listen, I’ll level with you. I know you’re cheap. I know I’m not necessarily promised anything like “a wireless signal” or “the ability to easily navigate your convoluted website,” or “pay my bill online without a combined internet/wireless plan,” but COME ON. Stop being a bitch asshole stick shit and gimme a dang wireless signal, you wireless router.

I will wait to publish this until you’re good and ready. I can be very patient.