Run Away, Run Away.

Some thing that I've wanted to do for a while now, but haven't allowed myself to do is let Bitterman take over an entire entry. I think today is the magic day. We're going to let that sanctimonious, sarcastic, depreciating bastard have his way with this entry. It's good to let him go occasionally. Call it therapy, call it venting, whatever you want, it's a necessary evil, and with that warning in place I give you Bitterman.

People who don't wash their hands after using the facilities should be drowned in fetid monkey piss. This isn't something that most people notice in public washrooms (walk in, bee line to your favorite urinal/stall, do your business, wash and get out without looking up), and I wasn't overly aware of it, until I started noticing trends at the places where I use public washrooms on a regular basis. I can't say for certain about the women’s washrooms (they don't let me in there for some reason, no matter how nicely I ask), but I do have a mole that provides me with names for the list from that gender. The list is surprisingly long actually for both genders. Maybe I should publish that list? Nah, we'll save it for a really good day. And don't give me the line about "I leaned not to piss/shit on myself", because it's bullshit. Ever seen a bacterial collection? Those amazing little buggers will get on everything without you even being aware of it. Ever hear of Norwalk? If not, look it up. Its primary transmission base is through feces. That's right, shit. I happen to remember this going around work as well. Who do you think caused that outbreak? Take the two minutes to wash your hands shithead, and maybe your name will come off the list, and I won't become infected when I use your keyboard to fix your computer.

Fucking ex-wives. 'Nuff said.

Yes, I fix computers/networks/anything with a wire for a living. No I will not come over and fix your personal machine that you've screwed up by surfing pr0n sites (not that there is anything wrong with that, just be smart), installing spy ware, and generally being an idiot. Do people honestly think that after working all day I want to come home and keep fixing machines? Tell you what. Ever seen a mechanic's car? It's usually the shitty, rusting, hulk of rotting crap that barely runs sitting in the parking lot. Know why? It's because after fixing cars all day, the last thing that they want to do is fix their own car. I am happy to say I haven't reloaded any of my home machines in years, not because they don't need it, but because I don't want too. And by the way, just because I do know my way around a computer, and play video games, this doesn't mean that I will mod your brother's wife's younger sister's babysitters PS2. Not only is it illegal (I know, not illegal to mod, just to use it, we call that semantics), but I don't want to be sitting there for six hours soldering wires the thickness of a hair instead of sitting at home and being busy sitting on my ass. If you do want to have this done, at least make a token effort and bring me a coffee or something. One last thing about the mod topic before I go on. Don't come up to me and act like a 14 year old buying condoms. Information is not illegal. It's not like you are asking me for two keys of cocaine, or some Tijuana donkey act porn. Just come out and say it. As a matter of fact, come up and ask me for some coke or interspecies erotica so I can tell you to fuck off.

Ex-wives. Fuck.

When I am sitting at a computer, or reading a white paper, do not crowd my space. Don't think that just because you can slide in beside me that you will get my attention and I will stop what I am doing to pay attention to whatever the crisis of the moment is. Chances are I'm busy, or ignoring you. Either way it doesn't matter. You don't go to a grocery store and go to the front of the line of people because you are in a hurry to get home to beat your wife and bugger your kids. Fuck off. Next time you start reading over my shoulder to see what I am doing I'm going to put a well placed elbow into a very sensitive region, and trust me, it will be accidental. Really. Try to prove otherwise. In association with this, if you come looking for me to help you, and you are madder then shit, take two seconds to calm down. I give back whatever I receive.

The mall. The Fucking mall. Fuck that. Oh, and Ex-wives.

Don't ask me if I need any help when I am walking around in your store. If I need your help I'll come get you. If you start harassing me, I am going to walk out and not buy a damn thing. We should all really do that. When the next pushy sales person comes up to you in the store, and won't back off, just leave. There is more than one store. Secondly, don't argue with me about my choice. That's why it's my choice. I want THIS piece of merchandise, not that one over there, or the one that is about to be shoved up your ass. This one. Right here. Thirdly, don't try to connect to me on a personal level by asking what I do, who I fuck, what my personal views on world theology are. I'm here to buy something and get out. I don't want to hear about the new models, or your kids, or who you are fucking. And finally, I do not want the extended service plan. I know things will break, and you will promise to fix it (until it actually breaks), but I don't want to contribute to your little money grab. Remember that merchandise that I am going to shove up your ass? It can say hi to your extended service plan.

Fuck it. I'm done. I could go forever, but before I piss everyone off I better stop.

Oh, one last thing. Did I mention I fucking hate ex-wives? Not mine in particular, but all of them. No wait. That's not true. Just mine.

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The real last thing this time. Blogger for screwing up all the time with the photo uploading.

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