Stupid Shit

This post is about Stupid Shit.

Let's just use some examples to describe what I mean here. First off, I have a cold, have had one for a couple weeks now, and frankly it's annoying. Some days I feel fine, other days, like today, I feel like something the cat vomited up and looked at you like "I'm not cleaning that up." and then walked off. I'm coughing, I'm sneezing, my nose ran right the hell off my face, and yet, here I am at work, bravely soldiering through another day at my boring dead end job. And yes, I used the word "soldiering" because that's what it is. Pish, you think those marines facing bullets and explosives and losing body parts over in Iraq are having a rough day, try walking a 90 year old woman who's never seen a computer before through setting up the internet on her computer, using an operating system you yourself have never used before, WHILE YOU HAVE A COLD. Yea, bitch. I'm like the Special Forces of Tech Support. Although in an actual gun battle I would probably be on the ground wetting myself, crying for my mommmy, I expect those Special Forces guys would have the same problem working at my desk for a day. My cold, while we're on the subject, falls under the category of Stupid Shit You Have to Deal With.

As an aside here, let's just remark how I seem to be the No-Tell Motel resort destination when it comes to viruses (or virii). If there's a virus within 100 miles of me, it's on it's way to check in at my front desk. After checking in, it's going to have a nice, restful night's sleep, wake up, and then proceed to have a reproductive orgy while blaring Guns N Roses into my head at full volume while downing tequila slammers. After a few days, a weekend, or several weeks of staying in my body's luxuriously appointed suites, it's going to leave them a wrecked sodden mess and frankly, my inner maid is damn tired of cleaning the soiled sheets. Luckily, she's swearing at me in spanish so I can't understand a word she's saying.

So while I am driving into work this morning, I see a jogger jogging down the street. And I don't mean on the sidewalk, I mean, DOWN THE STREET. Sure, it's january, so I expect a lot of people have made new years resolutions to stay in shape. But it's JANUARY, so today we also have the problem of icy winds, blowing snow, icy roads, and snow drifts to deal with. Obviously, a jogger jogging down the actual STREET, falls under the category of Stupid Shit You Shouldn't Be Doing In Inclement Weather. Drivers have to swerve out of the way just to avoid hitting her, and on icy roads it's just ridiculous, she's creating a traffic hazard, especially with the blowing snow. I suppose it was a good thing she was thin, if she was a 350 pound fatty jogging down the street, she'd be taking up an entire lane for herself. Which also makes it that much more annoying, she's SKINNY! Why are you jogging down the middle of the icy street when you know drivers are having a hard enough time? Pick a nicer time to do your jogging than MORNING RUSH HOUR. And stick to the damn side streets and use the goddamn sidewalk for crying out loud! It wouldn't surprise me if she got nailed by someone who couldn't swerve or stop in time. But she's thin so maybe she's nimble enough to dodge out of the way, who knows. I'd have tried aiming for her myself, but she was on the other side of the road, so i'd have had to cross 4 lanes of traffic to run her over, and two lanes is my limit. I am just too lazy to cross 4 lanes of traffic to run someone over, no matter how tempting it was.

So I'm in the kitchen the other day, looking around for lunch, and Mom offers to make me a grilled cheese sandwich. Being the lazy git that I am, I am fine with a 77 year old woman making my lunch for me. Don't judge me. I'm keeping her alive by keeping her active. If she didn't have to do something for me once in a while, she'd get no exercise whatsoever and probably get a blood clot or something. Besides, she offered. So Mom's getting the bread into the pan and she asks, what I think is a stupid question because she's never asked it before "How many slices of cheese do you want on your grilled cheese sandwich?" Now, I'm getting my lunch made for me, so I respond pleasantly "Well, how many do you normally use?" I mean, I don't know, I've never made myself a grilled cheese sandwich in my life. At least, not that I can recall while sober. So she tells me two. I tell her to use two slices then, and make it like she normally makes it. She says "One would be better for you, less fat." Now I know I'm a chubby bastard, but I don't need it spelled out for me. Regardless, I politely respond that I would still like two slices on my grilled cheese sandwich. Now at this point she begins arguing with me about how fat I am and how I need to cut down. I'm at something of a loss here, so I ask the obvious question... "Why ask me how many slices of cheese I want on my sandwich if you aren't going to do what I want anyway?" Which started a bit of a row with her. This would be the Stupid Shit That I Wish I Didn't Have To Deal With category. I mean honestly, I wouldn't have known one way or the other, right? Make it with one or two slices or 7 slices, I wouldn't know the difference unless it's obvious that there's more or less cheese than the last time i had one, and by that time, I've already got the sandwich, I probably won't complain much. But why ask? Like I always say, don't ask me the question if you don't want to hear my answer. Because goddammit, if you ask me, I am going to make sure you hear my answer, blunt honesty and all. So don't ask me if you look fat in those jeans, honey, because YEA YOU DO. And for the sake of all the Stupid Shit I have to deal with, if you ask me if you look nice and I say yes, don't argue with me. It's only going to make it worse. Just be happy you either do, in fact, look nice, or I cared enough about you to tell a little white lie in the first place, because if I am pressed about it, I'll tell you the truth. I'd make a terrible spy, I'd blab everything within seconds of even being suspected of anything. lol

Some other Stupid Shit I have to deal with, and this would fall under the Stupid Shit That Doesn't Make Sense category, is that I get accused of cheating all the time at games. Now these are mostly online games and the like so I get accused of running trainers and such. I almost always cheat at the single player games, but not at anything having to do with multiplayer, and here's why... Single player games are set up to challenge everyone the same way, and as a result of all people being different, some people will do better and some will do worse. So the game designers rig the game, either with various difficulty settings, or by making the game so hard nobody can beat it playing it fairly, so that you are continuously playing the game trying to best it. It's in the game designers best interests to make it that way, because the longer you play a game, the more positive the response to it. Sure you might get frustrated, but who amongst us just gives up on a challenge without trying just a little bit harder one more time? Very few of us, I'd say. In any case, I cheat at the single player games because I'm tired of having to reload my game from several hours ago because I forgot to save it 2 minutes before the final boss fight, and the final boss just bitchslapped me into next week. The whole loading and reloading and saving and doing it over just isn't realistic, I mean, if they are trying to teach me to be persistent, I get it, but if you haven't already learned that from your daily life, a game's not going to teach you, it's just going to aggravate the shit out of you. At least, it does that to me. So I cheat at the single player games. Now multiplayer, I don't cheat at, because human players make everything different every time you play, and are a truer test of your ability. That makes the game fun, and cheating at multiplayer would just be ridiculous. So if I beat you, it's just because I am faster, more skilled, had a better strategy, or I'm just plain luckier. It happens. Get over it. I file this under Stupid Shits Who Can't Handle Getting Their Asses Kicked.

There seems to be a lot of them out there, sadly. I call them n00bs. if there's anyone reading this and asking themselves "Did he just call me a n00b? Yes. Yes I did.

I just noticed I wrote this days ago and forgot to post it. Yea, I may not have been in my right mind.