Friday, January 27, 2012

Bloviate, Harangue, Objurgate, Perorate, Vociferate

I'm fucking tired.

It's my own fault, of course.  I stayed up too late reading.  Time got away from me and it was 3:30 when I realized I should probably turn off the damn Kindle and to go sleep.  The problem was that I was trying to get through a certain part of the book I was reading, because it was pissing me off beyond anything you can imagine and I just wanted to be through and done with it.  So now, instead of just being pissed about what's happening in the book, I'm still pissed about that and additionally pissed that it's going on for THIS MANY PAGES.  Oh the rage.

It actually reminds me of why I enjoy writing -- so that I can control the story.  I can avoid yelling at my Kindle after every paragraph, telling the main character to stop being a damned wuss and start kicking ass.  Though, I guess that if the story is evoking those sort of emotions out of me, then it's a relatively good story.  It's better than being bored with it, I suppose.

So, because I'm tired and naturally woke up irritated at the universe and everything it contains, I suppose I should get all my bitching out of the way now:

  • Stop talking about the Witcher 2.  I don't care if my copy is being upgraded to the Enhanced Edition for free.  If you enhance a turd, it's still a turd.
  • Governments needs to get the fuck off my Internet.  Seriously.  Stop it and go away.  I realize that copyright holders that have billions more money that I do are paying you to censor it, and if you don't they won't give you those billions of dollars.  But is it worth me STOMPING ON YOUR TAINT WITH A PAIR OF GOLF SHOES?
  • Sirius XM Radio:  Stop playing the "Live Studio Version" of the song "Cough Syrup".  I don't want to fucking hear that version.  I want to hear the fucking album version.  I don't care how many people request that stupid studio version.  If they think it's better, they are naturally entitled to their opinion.  WRONG AS IT MAY FUCKING BE.  Play the freakin' real version or I will send you mix tapes of Justin Bieber.  You twats.
  • Movie Maker:  Y U TELL ME FILE IS MISSING WHEN I SEE IT RIGHT THERE ON MY HARD DRIVE.  Better yet...Y U WAIT UNTIL YOU'VE BEEN PROCESSING FOR AN HOUR BEFORE DECIDING YOU THINK A FILE IS MISSING.  EVEN THOUGH I SEE IT.  RIGHT THERE.  Best yet...Y U SIT AT 52% FOR 9 HOURS AFTER I TRY YOU AGAIN?!
  • Stupid person in car:  Y U DRIVE DOWN WRONG SIDE OF ROAD?  Just because you're in a parking lot doesn't mean you can drive anywhere you want.  Also, just because you look older than Rupert Murdoch's flabby wrinkles doesn't mean I'd hesitate running your ass over.
  • To people who quote someone on the forums and only say "This." -- THERE IS A SPECIAL PLACE IN HELL FOR PEOPLE LIKE YOU.
Bad plot twists and lack of sleep make PD cranky.  Of course, one e-mail from John and now there are birds singing outside, I feel like dancing, and I don't feel so tired any more.  Either I'm becoming delusional from lack of sleep, or he's just that good at cheering me up.

(Hint:  It's the latter.)

As an aside, the words in the blog title are all synonyms of RANT.  :3

No comments:

Hello!

Holy smokes.  The last post I wrote for this blog was on October 18, 2017.  Through the little more than  two years since, this blog has be...