I was lying in bed last night watching television when the commercial for Live Links came on. Live links is apparently a ‘local’ chat line, and the most popular one at that. The commercials run late at night and often times feature scantily clad strippers who appear to love nothing more than to sit at home and wait for you to call and talk to them and their scantilly clad and most-gyratable friend.

Now I am not a judgemental person, in public. So in the privacy of my home the snarky remarks started flying. Ultimately it led me to this question.Who keeps these companies in business? What is the core demographic that spends their hard earned money talking to someone completely random on the telephone? Someone is using this service, but who? We know that someone is calling to use this chat line, because the companies are still making money. Who is this particular person? Let us find out together.

• We know that this person is likely single, and likely doesnt have many friends to chat with.
• We know this person has no knowledge of the porn powered Internet that we all know and love.
• We know that this person is searching for attention from an outside source, in the privacy of their own home. (wtf?)
• We know that this person is willing to pay out their ass to talk to strangers.

We now understand that this person is lonely and probably bored. We know that they have some sort of income, since the commercials are mostly run on cable television. We know that this may be the saddest thing in the history of American culture. We can also safely assume that this person has little else to do with their lives.

This is an epidemic, people. We cannot allow this to continue. We must do something to stop the madness. Not only is it annoying to watch these ridiculous commercials, it is also upsetting to think that so many people out there do not know how easy it is to get lured into FREE chat rooms on the internet. Do what you can to spread the love. Stop spending your hard earned cash on talking to complete strangers. Aol has a gazillion chat rooms just waiting for you and all the other creeps that want to chat with strangers. But please, don’t waste your money come to the internet for your porn. Just like the rest of us. Personally, I have never called a chat line. My childhood friend grew up to work on a chat line, he was also a gigantic red headed virgin, but apparently rather convincing at his job. This led me to never want to call, for fear of running into my best friend under his incredibly revolting chatline name, Ramone.

Alright, be honest. Have you ever called a chat line?

© 2009, AntiSoccermom. All rights reserved to the original author unless stated otherwise.

Dear Douchebag in Condo 2, Listen, Ive been at this condo for about 18 months now. My family owns this condo, and I dont intend on leaving anytime soon. So here we have ourselves in a bit of a dilemmatic situation. A predicament, if you will. According to the HOA, you are one lucky SOB since your dad owns that place, and you are the one structure in this neighborhood that is allowed to have college aged kids living with you. We have been neighbors for 18 months and you have never introduced yourself, though we share very intimately, an entire wall of our house with yours. I have waved at you, but it seems that there is always some college kid who looks like a scared prostitute leaving your house early those saturday mornings you catch me outside playing with my children. I have never once complained about the beer smell wafting from your porch onto mine, and didnt even bat an eyelash when at nine months pregnant I had one of your idiot friends jump onto my roof and then onto my deck outside my master bedroom where I was sitting watching television. Tell Ryan I said hello, and next time to please knock and come through the front door if he would like to tell me anymore stories I dont care to listen to. First, when you see me outside on those saturday mornings after your big parties, and Im holding an infant and chasing two kids on scooters or rollerblades, or bikes or whatever? Those bags under my eyes are not because of my children, they sleep like rocks every night. The bags under my eyes are from the blaring music you have started playing on an almost nightly basis. First, you have no taste. If you were to put on some Pac or Biggie, or Joseph Isreal, Bob Marley, it would be a different story. Those beats would calmly pulse me to sleep, while whatever indian guitar drum banging hippy bullshit you are listening to over there is keeping me, and my one year old awake, day and night. Here is the deal and no, I do not negotiate with terrorists, so STFU and listen. One. You will stop playing that god damn music at a level so loud it wakes up, and/or bothers me and my family. Two. You will kindly ask your friends to not vomit over our fence. Three. You will respect all HOA rules and regulations, including jumping onto your roof and into my bedroom. Not cool. Four. You will do this without me ever having to come over and knock on your door again. Five. You will learn to be polite, and wave when someone waves at you. In Lieu of these five simple things you are going to do for me, Im going to do ONE HUGE thing for you. Im NOT going to call the cops everytime you have your music at an audible level. As tempting as it is, I will refrain from calling the cops during your stupid parties, and when you invite the whoremobile to invade my community swimming pool. I wont even call the cops when some drunken idiot climbs onto the roof, because that wont be happening again, right? Thanks, Sincerely, Condo number 3.

© 2009, AntiSoccermom. All rights reserved to the original author unless stated otherwise.