Better Titles Later

Monday, July 19, 2004


Heh.  Lame-duck "Hey this is my first post to see if this blog works"?
 
Nope.
 
I rant.  I love to rant.  I love to be that guy that you have to bang on the ceiling to shut up.  My friends love it when I rant.  They love to set me off.  Not because my rants contain any sort of wit or cleverness; though I pretend.  No, it's my unmitigated frustration.  The pacing, reckless gesticulation, the long, slowly growing decibel curve.  The gross over- and mis-use of repulsively long symonyms.
 
It's funny to see somebody get so pissed about something as insignificant as the defrost button on his microwave that lets you quick-defrost "frank, in bun".  Who the hell freezes a hot dog in the bun?  Are there so many potential microwave purchasers who bring back from the store separate packages of franks and buns, open them, assemble the ready-to-eat hot dogs, then freeze them as to merit a one-touch defrost button on the microwave console? 
 
"You know, if I just put these things together now, I won't have to waste time placing the actual frank in the bun later.  I can just defrost them, and then instantly have a ready-to-eat hot dog!"
 

See, there he is.  You just saw normal, mild-mannered, ruggedly attractive Scott- 

 

 
-become short-fused ANGRY Scott.
 
 

 
He's not to be trusted.
  
  
But you can't wail in a blog.  You can't wave your arms about, nor punctuate your sentences by ceasing to pace, then puctuate them again by restarting.  Readers cannot hear your voice return to pre-pubescent spontaneous octave-jumping.  
 
But I'm obsessive.  I love to obsess.  I love to be that obsessive guy.  When you reveal to someone that you loved the idea of the gravity-powered ceiling fan in Mosquito Coast and sat up in bed all night until you figured out how to build one yourself, most people will kind of sit back and utter a "whoa" or two, happy they aren't you.  Obsession may help my blogging.  At least up the entertainment.
 

I also have too much time on my hands.  I don't like being that guy that has too much time on his hands, so the obsessive guy takes over.  I see my buddy on IM with a happy, calming avatar of Wayne Newton:  

 
    
I have nothing to do for the next two hours.  Can I leave Wayne alone?  Nope.



 

 
Wayne's got to go.
 
And my buddy's reaction when he saw it, "oh SHITE!", made it all worth it.
 
So no banal posts about daily routines here.  Not to knock them at all, but the menial details of my life are boring enough to me.  I don't want to force anyone else to relive them.  Actually, it has nothing to do with anyone else, I'm just also too lazy to input that I like the Brown Sugar ham over the Smoked ham unless I think there's going to be some sort of payoff.
 
 
The other thing about ranters is that they'll go on forever unless somebody stops them, or they happen to glance at the scroll bar and see that they don't know how many pages they've written, but it's more than two.

posted by Scotty 2-shots at 11:00 PM