Category : RANT

in Movies, Music, RANT

Grobanitis

The other day, Ai asked us what the deal with Josh Groban is – why is he so popular, why is he selling so many CDs? I used to be a Groban fan. I used to think he was cute. I now think he is tainted. Tainted with his weird, Oprah-blessed success. So now, whenever I look at the kid, I think, “That guy’s gotta be the biggest asshole ever.”

I wonder if he’s a skirtchaser. I wonder, are there little Joshie Grobanitos out there?

This assessment may not be entirely fair, but there’s a much better chance of it being right on than off! Poo, man. Why does money make people assholes so often?

in RANT

HRM!

On the way to work today I heard a news story about a husband and wife living in Orange County who could not afford health insurance for themselves and their three children. They owned a $500,000 house. The wife stayed at home and the husband was self employed, making $70,000 a year. During one point of the interview, the wife exclaimed, “I just don’t like the fact that we’re being penalized for our choices.”

Are you fucking kidding me.

Yes, I too would like to live in a world where I am never penalized for making choices that negatively affect me. Or any choices at all! In fact, I’d like to stay home, and have Curt work and still be able to afford to pay our rent and eat, and go out and buy stuff and everything. That would be great, thanks.

It’s really not that I don’t sympathize. Health care costs are ridiculous these days (not that I believe that is entirely the fault of the insurance companies, though it is a shady, despicable business). But how can people THINK that way?

This is along the same lines as the news story about the couple who had eight children, were living in poverty and railing against the government for lack of support BUT they flat out refused to stop having children because the husband wanted a son. I just wanted to reach out my mighty smiting hand and strike them both down for their complete and utter stupidity: his for being a stupid, macho dickhead, and hers for not kicking his ass for being a stupid, macho dickhead.

AARARGHAGHAGHAHGAHGAGA!!!1!!!!

Back to scheduled programming.

in RANT

DUDE

Here at 7G, we made a democratic decision to exchange some Christmas presents early, so I just spent the last three hours of my life setting up a lovely scanner (for photos and other fun pseudo arts) while Bob Ross spoke to Curt from the television.

AND THEN we turned off the DVD player and it was on C-SPAN, and ANN COULTER WAS TALKING.

Bob Ross…and then ANN COULTER.

I want to skewer my eyes out with forks, just to never have to set my eyes on her horrible, sepulchral face, ever ever ever again.

I admit to having some conservative leanings, but Ann Coulter is just fucking evil. If I only had a pail of water to throw on her, I would totally own her flying monkey army.

/ shudder

…happy trees, happy trees…

in Life of Giang, RANT

Cultural literacy

Every time I go to a public restroom, I appreciate how difficult it would be for a robot to live in a human world. Does the faucet turn side to side, or up and down? Are there two different ones for hot and cold, or just the one with a dial? Is it motion-activated, or manual? Soap: do you pump in, pump down, or pump up? And how do you like it: foamy, creamy, watery? Hand towels or blowers? If hand towels, are they dispensed manually, or is it motion-activated? If dispensed manually, do you pull down or do you turn the crank and tear or do you push down on the level until it dispenses the desired amount of paper towel or do you pull down on the twisted paper towel in front of you?

Sometimes I wonder if I’m part robot or if it’s just the world that’s freakin’ nuts.

in Life of Giang, RANT

Sock-bearer, and other titles

Curt is sick. I bundled him up in a couple blankets and put a glass of water on his nightstand so he doesn’t burn up in the middle of the night. I was headed out towards the kitchen to finish cooking dinner when I heard him mumbling fitfully under his breath that I must not care very much about his wellbeing if I was leaving him to suffer in the room all alone, and when I turned to ask him to repeat himself, he sniffled, raised his head, and said, in a very pathetic, sickly little voice indeed, “Will you put some socks on my feet, please?”

O RLY!

So, now he is be-socked and slumbering. It would be the perfect time to hunt down those tiger ears and take some incriminating photos of him while he is weak and prostrate, only some meager scrap of pity lives on in me (despite all!)…and so The Boy will sleep, unmolested.

Game manuals SUCK ASS these days. I suspect this is because companies have realized that explaining how to play a game means that there is less money to be made in writing books explaining how to play a game. It’s astounding how much of a whore the world is. I mean, me too, probably. I am probably sometimes whore-ish, stuff-wise. But if you took away my ability to point out the flaws of the world without incriminating myself, I wouldn’t have a blog. So there.

Anyway, what?

Oh, yes: CONSUMERISM IS THE DEVIL. DO NOT CONSUME. EXCEPT WHEN IT’S REALLY NECESSARY, OR FOR NICE GIRLS WHO PUT SOCKS ON YOUR FEET WHEN YOU’RE SICK.

The world is also going Chain-crazy. I think I finally understand what it is to want to bring down The Man. The Man who builds all the freakin’ Chains, sapping the character and creativity of the world away, one McSoul at a time. The world is made of mass-produced crap. Soon, there’s gonna be so much crap on this planet that we’ll have to construct a whole other planet, just to hold all our crap.

Look at all the stuff around me that owns me.

/boggle

in Cooking, Food, Games, RANT

Gar!

behold.jpg

Dez, beholding the Beholder.

I have solved the mystery of the un-like RSS titles! That’s the good news. The bad news is that it is too much trouble to fix them, so they will remain like that, wretched scars on my otherwise perfect web-self. Ah well.

Prompted by some fun work discussions, I have decided to try my luck at NaNoWriMo: National Novel Writing Month (again). This time, at least one of my co-workers is participating too, so hopefully we will shame each other into sticking it out to the bitter end (we are both Asian, so shame is a powerful motivator). If you will kindly direct your eyes to the upper-ish right hand portion of the site wherein my navigation menu lies, you will see a new link for the soon-to-be-written masterpiece. There’s nothing there now. Rules are I can’t start ’til November. Anybody else want to be writing buddies? Hrm? :)

Sometimes Curt drives me crazy. Right now, I’m squinting irritably at his silly red head, waiting for him to turn around so I can resume imagining that huge red boxing gloves are pummeling his BIG SMUG – he’s turned around now, and he’s squinting back at me. GrrrrrrrrrrrrARARRRR.

He fried bacon in my kitchen tonight. Bacon, in case you all don’t know, leaves a stinks. Of the dead pig. And there is greasy animal fat splattered all over my nice. clean. stove. The bastard was even surly when I asked him to clean it.

/BASH BASH BASH!!

That’s me smashing (or, more precisely: BASHING) his face in, Batman-style.

Relationships are hard when you (I) don’t get everything your (my) way.

(/BASH BASH BASH!!)

in RANT

Insidious

Lately, the spam on my blog has gotten downright exasperating. Every time I go to moderate my comments, I’m assaulted by dozens and dozens of people who thank me for how informative and wonderful my site is, some of them quoting Shakespeare as they do it. Where is my dirty sex spam? Where is my illegal pharmaceutical spam!? Goddamnit. You get used to something, and it’s such a let down when it goes away.

I wish I were the little girl from Firestarter. I could simply wrinkle my brow and think real hard and cause the spammers of the world to burst into flames. Damn you, spammers! Burn, burn!

So, that does it for this edition of Impotent Rage vs. Spammers. See you next time.

PS – If a witch’s tit is cold, what part of a witch is hot? Because that’s how hot it is out here right now. Trees are melting, help.

;)

in RANT

Dreaming Robots

Spammers nearly crashed out my ability to monitor the spam in my comments, and I, in an ineffective rage, replied to a phishing email from someone pretending to be Paypal, thusly:

Asshole.

Personally, I think it’s okay to kill a spammer. Publicly, I realize that I can’t do such a thing because not only would it be indictable, it’s also un-American. In America, everyone is free to do what they want, so long as nobody has bribed a local politician to make them do otherwise. Still, one can dream.

I’m a dreamer type, myself.

in Art, Design, Photography, RANT

Fury and Form

Today, I was made angry at work by an asshole. Not an asshole that I work with; an incidental asshole I happened to speak with on the phone. He was Asian. A smug, rude, chauvanistic Asian man: a typical manifestation of the breed. (That is not to say that all Asian men are assholes – some are very nice and pleasant, blah blah blah, Disclaim Me, Please, I’m Pissed.) I am sure in some part I was not merely annoyed by him, but by everything his existence represented, and has represented, in my life as an Asian female (not a self-description I often bother touting.) On a bad day I would leave him to drown in a lake. On a good one, I might save him, and then kick him in the balls and leave him gulping dirty water in the rocky shallows of the shore. And then, I would spraypaint Do Not Pity Me, For I Am The Asshole on him. And laugh.

Anyway, after work today, I drove to the local crafts store bought two pounds of clay. I am now attempting to mold a game-size version of Dez.

Don’t laugh. She’s forming up. It’ll take some time. I know she looks like a cortorted broccoli floret – I realized a little ways in that detail would have to wait until after her basic shape took form, otherwise I would just smoosh it all.

Also, pay no mind to the exposed toothpick horn.

I’m tired now. Time to rest and read. What is this crazy little thing called life? /sigh