Every time I post something, the next week turns to hell on Earth for me, and sometimes for the people around me too.  The more upbeat the posting, the worse my week.

It doesn’t seem to be pure paranoia.  I looked back at each gap and directly after each isolated little post in the nigh-empty calendar, life sucked harder than a Nicollet Avenue ho’ going for the brownie points with a state representative.  Or should that be: an Idaho congressman in an airport bathroom, had it not been a cop…?

So this is a great big raspberry to Mr. Murphy and his stupid law, who seems to have nothing better to do than piss on me.  Enjoy it while it lasts, Murphy.  ‘Cause when I die, I’m devoting so much energy and time to finding you and then discovering out how sweet payback really is.  Don’t worry about desire to live, readers, I want to live.  This is revenge that will be served colder than an emperor penguin’s butt at midnight in June, and will be all the sweeter for it. 

(Oops, just realized that might be a vicious one.  For the slow, here’s a hint:  Emperor Penguins live in Antarctica…)

The meat of this post:  I’m tired of complainers who don’t add to any quality to a conversation and don’t know what they’re complaining about.

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Double-ya Tee Eff, N8ey?!?!? I can hear your mutterings, dear readers. I have heard them, they’ve echoed through my dreams and dance at the edges of my wakeful perception.

It’s because I’ve been foolishly devoting myself to such unimportant things like my job, my car, my family, and ignoring the important stuff, like the Intertubes.

But my friends, well the ones in my head, held an intervention and I’ve come to my senses.

To keep from losing my way, I’ve decided to become a Dark Wizard that makes Voldemort look like a Valley-Girl cheerleader in GAP during a half-off everything sale, carrying her father’s Mega-Platinum AmEx card.

I won’t stray again. The dark side really has better cookies.

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In, I think, a personal record of 10 total hours.

759 pages, divided by 10 hours is 75.9 pages an hour. Divide that by 60 minutes gets you 1.265 pages a minute.

Well, that number is a little off — the first 200 pages took about 4 hours, the rest in about 6 hours, but you get the idea.

The surprising part is how well I can remember the story. No spoilers or even hints, just two words: holy shit!

Okay, two more: read it.

On to the question that anyone left that reads my blog may ask: What the hel happened to me?

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I’ve been devoting a good 170% of myself to work lately, plus or minus 3% due to polling error, so I’m a little frazzled.

So I take the time to get to a browser and log into my website to share…

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That’s why I haven’t posted.

I got three rules since I re-thought blogging the last break, which I will extract from the archive and post eventually… 

Anyway, the three rules:  I don’t post about work, and I don’t post when drunk, and I don’t post when I’m enraged with the whole gawddamned world.

So I’m not posting.  Because I’m pissed by a single basic human trait: stupidity.

That sums it up.

So maybe I do post when I’m enraged with the whole gawddamned world.

Oh well.  The rule now encompasses posting details of issues instead of just posting something.

Have fun, readers.

Skåll!!!