I’ve been watching a lot of Zero Punctuation, so I am feeling particularly verbose this evening and need to let it all out, so to speak, in the form of a blog post. My only requirements are that I must finish before midnight…and that’s really it, just one requirement.
This weekend was exceptionally good! Really, it was. I loved seeing the boy, as I always do, and though most of the plans we made were tossed to the wayside due to partially unforeseen (albeit pleasant) events cropping up, I really did enjoy the time spent with him. On top of that, Alan was present in Cedar Falls for something like the fourth time in a row, which meant campaigning campaigning oh God the campaigning whenever a) we were awake, b) David was around, and c) we weren’t distracted by trivial things like magazines and catching up and Cartoon Network and consuming sustenance. Seriously, we were pretty much seated at David’s ridiculously large, dining room-appropriate table for the greater part of the weekend visit triumvirate.
I could go on about our adventures–a bit over a fortnight ago we convened for some of the fabled gaming and we had assorted hijinks involving spiders, nomads, and sacred yaks, but that’s a tale for another day perhaps. And this weekend we tromped around in the deep, dank, abysmal caverns of the miserably racist dwarves (you’ll have to wade through my exaggerations on your own) trying to get their politics to stop ruining our much more important adventures. Also a positively prolific number of kobolds were systematically destroyed-fled from-and destroyed. But I think that’s a good enough summary for those reading this (those being few in number and mainly pared down to the boy himself, who already knows of these wacky jaunts into the wilderness, and Grace, who I am fairly certain does not read this often–pardon me if I am wrong, lady).
Instead I am going to run off-topic so fast it will be akin to a jeep slipping on a Mario Kart-esque banana only to slide off the road and hurtle straight into a guard rail, perhaps toppling neatly into a lake. By this I mean I am going to go through my Twitter stalkees and in an orderly manner complain once about each of them (specifically how they post on Twitter). More or less. And as a bonus preface, let me say that most of these are joking or contrived on the spot so as to be fair to the people I am legitimately complaining about. To translate, don’t take it too seriously unless I write enough to qualify for my high school sophomore English teacher’s admittedly muddy idea of what a paragraph consisted of.
To start, my own character Ez from a webcomic I am starting. My number one complaint is her never posting, the ungrateful little creature. I brought you into existence, the least you can do is (wait for me to log on so that you can) post something.
The next is my mother, and it’s really not fair to say anything too awful about her (she is my mom, after all). She never posts. Good? Good. Also get an icon.
Next is Maureen from the webcomic Girls With Slingshots. Here’s a hint, she isn’t real. She doesn’t post much, but she is allegedly still on her honeymoon, according to Twittertime (a phrase that I am making up that has probably already been made up by Twitter or some adjunct, you evil, phrase-hogging corporation), so I suppose a degree of forgiveness is necessary.
David and Finley’s former RA follows Maureen, and to him I say tweet about something I know about! Stop being so community-driven and witty! It frustrates me when you mention people and places at UNI and I don’t understand why it’s noteworthy.
Adam West! Post something for God’s sake.
Webcomic artist John Allison is next, and to him I say your British wit and brilliance is too quirky for my tastes so please stop tweetlogging (can I keep this one?) my page with it. (p.s. please don’t stop being so quirky and amusing, I am following you for a reason).
Ditto mark ditto mark Rene Engstrom needs to post something about the comic she writes. And by that I mean draw! Draw your comic! (also not fair she has been sick for something absurd like over a week)
Seamus of Youtube fame only earns a “stop posting the same thing over and over” criticism (that thing being what Trueachievement points he has recently earned), which is really not terribly bad. Instead I say to him that on YOUTUBE, he should stop posting Borderlands videos as if your life depended on nothing but Borderlands in excess.
Webcomic artiste (you see that feminine there?) Danielle Corsetto…should…stop being so prompt with her comic updates! How dare you?
Whitney of the friends from high school crowd should do say more things unrelated to Nicole and Ryan. And when she does this, I say she should say more things related to Nicole and Ryan. I never said my judgment was fair or sensible.
Tai–you know what, I give up on the fictional character accounts. The rest are all Jeph Jacques’ doing and he has been pretty good about them lately so they can just sit pretty and revel in not being emasculated by my righteous (read: misplaced and pointless) fury.
Alan is up next and to him I say post something that I don’t talk to you about almost immediately on AIM! CLEARLY you are not catering to me as everyone should.
To Marissa I say something like blurr har you don’t post very often gnorr.
Belen, you can just stop right there with the stealing of the phrase “the boy”. It was I who originated this phrase at the beginning of time and I take GREAT OFFENSE at you snitching it and using it willy-nilly. Granted, I don’t think you probably got it from me at all, and for that matter I don’t remember where I pilfered it from, but my point remains and my point is automatically right.
Michaela never ever posts.
Ryan, you rarely say anything outside of talking to Nicole and Whitney, but that is not my criticism! My message to you is that you had best never mention me posting too much ever again or I shall inundate your cell phone inbox with so many messages that you won’t know what to do with the smoldering pile of goo that your phone once was.
Nicole. More of the talking with Whitney and Ryan can be said, and as I need to save my steam, I am going to stop here. Also I can’t think of anything else.
Rachel, of the dating Finley and we’ve only met once variety. I don’t mind it when you post multiple times per day, bumping off anything I might actually be interested in, mainly because you are occasionally witty about something I do, in fact, understand and care about (or undercare, as the word was coined this weekend). But if you mention how much you miss Michael/your bug/your button/Finley (in the common parlance of this blog) one more time per day, I will leap through the internet in a manner suitable to a certain godawful Scooby Doo villain and eat your keyboard. I don’t need to hear you yammer on about how much you love him/miss him/can’t wait to see him when I’m certain you saw him very recently. I miss my boy as well, but I have the restraint to only share it with the boy alone. I give you a stern look and three Hail Marys as penance and you can go in peace to love and serve Finley in the numerous falsities of stories he sends my way. I am stern because I care.
Finley needs to post more, post with longer phrases, and (in the real world) actually be around when he says he will be. Perhaps talk with people, keep in touch. It is difficult to harass you with our annoying little voices when you’re holed up in your room with sixteen guitars and a personal television set to cater to your viewing whim. …On second thought, you are going to have to roll a nat 1 on that Will save for us to drag you away from your road to potential shredding glory. It’s a thankless job, but someone has to do it.
David! Enough of the sports posts for Christ’s sake. I don’t understand. I don’t care. 70% of your posts looks like this to me: “INSERT ANY TEAM HERE rocked INSERT ANY OTHER TEAM HERE for ARBITRARY NUMBER on ARBITRARY NUMBER. Some kind of phrase indicating my feeling about this aaaaaaand done.”
Morgan, my dearest roommate. All this Nerdfighter business has beaten my brain around with a gaggle of names I will never, ever remember and some kind of acronym that may or may not stand for Do Find That Bread, Alohomora or some sort of meaningless drivel like that. If you do not cease to cram this information into my ears via constant reminders, I will never take out the trash again, and we all know how many gnats congregated the last time we refrained from doing so.
Okay most of that slowly devolved into tiredness-onset sarcasm, but it was fun for me and that is clearly what matters most (more sarcasm, I hope it’s pretty transparent now). Also, I magnificently failed my goal of stopping at midnight, and now it is midnight-30-ish, so I am going to hop-skip-jump off to bed before my eyes roll back into my head and I drool all over my expensive keyboard. Shortly! I will summarize this post in saying the following:
Weekend was awesome BULLET POINT enjoyed time spent with the boy BULLET POINT campaigning was epic-tastic, people on Twitter should keep doing what they are doing unless I honestly care in which case keep doing the same thing while I leer at your posts every time I sign on. Love me.
(Less sarcastic post later. I promise I am actually in a really good mood! Look at these exclamation points, they indicate happiness!)
