I don’t really know how much of an explanation this needs. I mean, we’ve all experienced it at one time or another. You call someone, they’re not at home, so you leave a message. They call you, you don’t answer, so they leave a message. Then they call your cell phone and leave a message. But you’re not actually out. You’re just in the shower (or in the case of eggbert, into a hardcore masturbation session). So when you get all dried off, you call them back. But by that time, they’re out on the golf course and aren’t near the phone, so you leave another message. Finally, you just say, “Fuck it,” and you go about your day. Phone Tag sucks.

I remember when I was a kid we used to go to the Levitz furniture showroom. Whether we needed a new sofa, bedroom set or kitchen table, this was the place to go. Well, about a year ago, I revisted the Levitz showroom, just to see what they had to offer now. It’s the same shit. The same ugly designs. The same gaudy fabric patterns. It’s as if the place was stuck in a time warp, forever lost between the seventies and eighties. Come to think of it, even when I was a kid, this stuff was fugly. Old Furniture Chains suck.

Now that I’m between jobs, I guess I have to start cleaning up my place. I don’t know how it gets like this. One day, it’s looking pretty nice. The next day, it’s a pig sty. Not that I’m a slob or anything. I don’t leave food out. I’m more of a clutter collector. I have something important that I think I’ll need later, but I don’t know what to do with it, so it goes into the pile on my desk or on one of my many tables.

Which got me to thinking, I’m in the market for a new home, but after spending the day tidying up, I’m starting to think that instead of getting the biggest place I can afford, I should get a really small place. That way, I could hire a live-in maid and possibly a butler. Where they’d stay, I’m not sure. Maybe I could put a bunk bed in one of the closets. House Cleaning sucks.

In our last chapter, you may recall, our hero was having difficulty attaining medical insurance information through his alumni association. Today’s chapter begins with Smivey wandering the once-familiar campus of his alma matter, looking for the alumni association office. He is directed to a new building and told that he will find the information he seeks on the 4th floor. But when he arrives at this new building, he has no idea how to actually get to the 4th floor. There is no obvious staircase or even an elevator sign. Just a series of unlabled doors. After ten minutes of staring at the doors, a woman notices our hero is in trouble and offers assistance. It turns out that behind one of these doors is a staircase. Another conceals an elevator. Mystery solved. Of course, by the time our hero makes it to the 4th floor, the only person who can help him is nowhere to be found. The quest continues. Bad Architecture sucks.

Hi. Remember that package I was waiting for about the medical insurance? Still haven’t received it. I don’t know who to be pissed off at, the woman who said she’d send the information to me or the flaky postal worker who doesn’t seem to be doing her job very well. Ah, hell with it. I’m pissed at both of them. Unreliable People suck.

GQ Magazine, I have a suggestion for your next issue: The caveman look. Basically, you don’t shave. You don’t do anything with your hair. You just let it go. Think Don Johnson to the extreme. Picture this: A man in a finely tailored suit with about eight weeks of hair growth on his face and neck. Now that’s chic. Rugged, yet refined. Hip, yet old fashioned (as in prehistoric). The ultimate fashion contradiction. Men throughout the world will embrace the new look. They’ll throw away their razors and toss out all their hair products. And they’ll never go back. Why? Because Grooming sucks.

This fucking Web site pulls people in by claiming you can “name your own price.” Sure you can. You can say you want to spend $50 a night for a four-star hotel. That doesn’t mean they’re going to give it to you. What’s worse, they won’t even tell you the name of the hotel you’re paying for until the transaction is through (sorry, no refunds). Oh, but don’t worry. They only deal with “name brand” hotels. I’ve got news for you: “Motel 6″ is a namebrand. So is “Travelodge.” Maybe it’s just me, but I don’t want to plan my vacation with a roll of the dice. “Come on, Four Season. Give me Four Seasons!” Priceline.com sucks.

Every day, at my apartment building, the mail arrives at around 2. So when I came downstairs at 2:30 to check to see if anything had arrived, I was surprised to see my mailbox empty. I noticed the apartment manager was in his office so I asked him if the mail carrier had been by yet. He said, “No.” So, I went back upstairs to wait. Then I got to thinking, what are the chances that this guy was around all morning? Maybe he was out showing an apartment and didn’t see the mail carrier come by. I went down at 3 to see if I had any mail. The box was still empty. Mother fucker. I knew the mail carrier had already been by. I saw the truck when I was leaving earlier this afternoon. But just because I’m a masochist, when 4:30 rolled around, I thougth I’d check just one more time to see if I got any mail. Just as I made my way to the lobby, guess who walks in? That’s right. The fucking mail carrier. Being Wrong sucks.

If you don’t know who this guy is, he’s the shyster who claims to be able to talk to the dead. Uh, yeah. That’s just great. Well, can you answer one question for me, Mr. Edward? If what you say is true, then why the hell is your stupid show being broadcasted on the Sci Fi Channel? Sci Fi. That’s Science Fiction. As in, not real. You fucking dickhead. How can you take advantage of a person’s vulnerability like that? The people that go on this show don’t need a psychic, they need a psychiatrist. John Edward sucks.