A new vendetta has just started, people.

Ok, so here’s what happened….

I recently contacted EchoStar Comm. [[DISH]], aka DISH Network last month, to upgrade my subscription to 250 friggin’ channels from 200 (yeah, like I really need to watch 50 more channels). Actually, I did it to get all the sports channels in the universe, plus NESN, the crown jewel, which carries all the Red Sox, Celtics and Bruins games.

So guess what? The asshats at DISH can’t just upgrade my programming over the satellite system. After spending three phone calls with three different people who could barely speak English, I finally got to have them schedule a service call to adjust the dish and add some whiz-bang module that would fix everything.

At this point I should mention that I actually have two dishes. One for the sat channels and one for the local channels. Don’t ask me why. And, I have two receivers. One for the upstairs loft and one for the downstairs family room. Here’s the kicker: the guy who originally installed my system used two different dish models and two different sat receiver models. Great. The system was basically jerry-rigged with duct tape.

Anyway, so I requested a service call. That was back on April 18. What happened next, you may ask?…They never showed up for the service call…. twice. How nice. Meanwhile, I’m still waiting for the upgrade, and missing Red Sox baseball.

Then last week, I get a bill. The arrogant fuckers charge me for two weeks of upgraded friggin’ channels, and two service calls!

Strike ONE.

It gets better…I get this call last Tuesday that “the guy” will finally be out to service everything on Saturday (yesterday). Lo and behold, I go online, check my account, and the dickweeds have charged me for TWO more service calls. Hello?! You fuckers have never showed up and I’m still waiting on Red Sox baseball!

Strike TWO.

“We are sorry for your inconvenience. He’ll be out sometime between noon and 5 pm on Saturday”. Wonderful. Now I have to stay around the house on a Saturday afternoon waiting for some service guy to come over. I just know he’ll probably be late after taking an egregiously long lunch and a dump due to the bacon double cheeseburger and fries, supersized, of course. Much to his chagrin, I’m not going to let him shake my hand.

He finally shows up at 4 pm.

It gets worse. They send this guy that looks like he’s sixteen years old, talks with a German accent and appears to be living exclusively on a diet of pork pies. Shit, is this guy for real? Long story short, “Herr Pork Pie” dicks around with the system for TWO HOURS, and you know what he accomplished? Nada. Zero. Squat. I thought Germans were supposed to be smart?

But get this…instead of not being able to simply upgrade the system to the 250 glorious channels, I now have NO reception at all. None! The friggin’ asshat did a monumental cluster-fuck on my sat system. Oh, and it’s quitting time now. Gotta knock off for the day, back tomorrow…See ya.

I am livid. I call 1-800-FUC-DISH and basically rip a new one in some polite Indian guy, interrupting his curry chicken dinner he was trying to eat while listening to me rail.

Today…no show. I want to choke the little German pork pie fucker. I know it’s Mother’s Day. But let’s get our priorities in order. We’re talking baseball here, son.

Livid, part II.

STEE-RIKE THREE!

I’m switching to Direct TV.

Come get your fucking dishes, DISH Network. They’re down by the septic tank, and they’re unwashed.

With service like this, I’m putting them on the “how the hell can they still be in business?” list.

Calling on all troops to short DISH. This sucka is going down, double top breakout or not.

Vendetta on!

True and egregious story.