He who smelt it, dealt it;
But would you like your gas at a fixed rate from Terasen or at a floating rate from an independent provider?
Somebody somewhere thought it would be a good idea to privatize everything, oddly they had lots of money with which to buy formerly public institutions which is probably why they thought it was so good. So they convinced other people, the methods by which are not for me to say, and suddenly the people of BC were blessed with the sacred right of choice in who they bought their natural gas from.
Whoopdee fuckin’ do.
To share with us the great news that we, as a people, had been bestowed by the wisdom of those on high with choice, an advertising campaign was launched. It had a lab coated man (and therefore must obviously know what he is talking about) going around a laboratory where the study of comfort is being undertaken with pies and kittens and slippers’n shit. (opening soon in a strip mall near you: Slippers’n Shit, for when you need slippers…..’n shit like that)
Bask in the infinite comfort of knowing you can choose between a fixed rate from Terasen or a floating rate from an independent provider. Hear the great sigh of relief echo across the land as the great oppressive past of not really having to think about gas at all slips away without a fuss.
ahhhhhhhhhhhhh.
Good times.
So the lab coat man (who is a complete dick by the way, taking buddies pie right as it comes out of the oven. Vancouver really needs to work on employee rights.) So anyway, the lab coat man takes us gently aside and explains we just need to call and we can have either the cute, friendly bunny slippers of Terasen, or the slightly more masculine and austere slippers that have something to do with floating rate independent gas providers for some reason.
Guess it wasn’t that simple for a lot of people who must have phoned in asking, well, which one saves me money? In reply the infinitely wise, pie stealing man in the lab coat comes back to us in a new commercial. He takes us aside again, a little more tersely this time, and tells us gently that he doesn’t fuckin’ know, it’s not his fucking problem, he has to run the Goddamn comfort lab for Christ sake, don’t be callin’ and asking how to save money, go do your own fucking market research you lazy bastards.
Her departs with a “Fuck off now children,” patting our heads before walking off in his nice new slippers to go eat that pie in his office all by himself.
What the fuck!?! I thought WE we’re supposed to be the ones get some slippers. Where the fuck are my slippers? I gave up some really nice socks to get them slippers. That was the deal, We the public open up the gas market, WE get slippers. I’m starting to think we got hoodwinked!
Mr. Lab coat man better wash that smug look off his face before WE decide to do it for him, and we will Mr. Privateer, we will.
Last 5 posts by ToddSlaughter
- Book Cooking 101 - November 28th, 2008
- Sing Along with The New Canada! - July 1st, 2008
- Steven Harper's War On Water - June 17th, 2008
- Look Here Mr. Dallaire - May 20th, 2008
- WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!!!!!!! - May 16th, 2008
