12 posts tagged “rant”

"Dear Joni: suck it. - Aktia"

That's pretty much what I felt through the cosmic waves when I checked my bank account and spotted the 39.00 € in insurance refunds I'd gotten for my stolen 200.00 € camera.

Look, I rarely feel insulted, but to me that was pretty much the equivalent of someone pissing in my drink and telling me to buy a new one myself.

To those who know me ( and I suspect those who don't) probably don't have to think very long to guess what my reaction to that would be.

Unfortunately, I still don't have the financial nor social power to take down a multinational conglomerate on my own...

... but consider yourself fucking warned, Aktia Insurance.

Dear God do I hate UPS.

There, I said it, I got it out of my system, I can now go on with my life.

... First off, why the hell would I be at home at 13:30 any fucking day? I understand that it's costly to send a goddamned truck my way every day and because of that you don't want to try sending it more than 3 times, but do you have to start trying on a fucking TUESDAY?!? God DAMN!

And what's so fucking hard with calling me in advance to even give me a fair chance at receiving my package? I know it's hard to use a phone, but come the fuck on, lady, you probably had me on speed dial by then.

And Jesus Christ on a stick if I'd have the audacity to call your customer service and try to schedule a more logical time for the drop-off! Of course you can't schedule your courier to go through company send offs first and private send offs later, oh no, 'Don't you try to coordinate US, laddie, we've got it all [nothing] under control!'.

And Jesus fucking Christ, do you people have to break a habit on fucking coincidence? I've got a friend here sitting, waiting for my parcel to fly through the mother******* window for four fucking hours, and you clusterfucks decide to pay me a visit right after he leaves, you motherfuckers. Good thing my friend has keen senses and fast legs and was able to catch you atavistic fucktards before you got away for the third fucking time!

Christ!

But now I've got my laptop back, and all is zen.

As you can see.

I'm seriously starting to think that the plumbing is out to get me; either that or then there's just some malevolent and/or mischievous entity who's lately taken it upon itself to surprise, embarrass and make a fool out of me whenever I get close to anything connected to so much as a watering hole.

When I almost locked myself in the garage while checking up on the new boiler after a shower I thought it was just coincidence ( something which you should never do right after a shower, since you probably don't want to see your neighbours' faces when that sweet boy from next door comes a-knockin' at their door naked). And when I inadvertently doused myself, fully clothed, in the shower while just trying to use the tap to wash my hair I still kept thinking ' it's just not my day today'. Hell, even when the dishwasher started making growling sounds at me I just thought it was missing it's real momma...

... but when the toilet in every public bathroom within the past four days seems to be coming off the goddamn floor I'm starting to think something's up!

I mean seriously, what's wrong with all those toilets??? Don't plumbers these days know how to bolt those damn things to the floor, or are people just so fucking depraved of lug nuts they have to go 'round stealing them from public bathrooms? Do you understand how frustrating it is to have the whole goddamn seat seem like it wants to come home with you after you've done your business?! I don't need a fucking takeaway toilet, I have one at home! Do I seriously have to start walking around with a bag of extra lug nuts just so I can go to the bathroom without having to fear that the seat's going to spontaneously show me what it feels like to go #2 in the middle of an earthquake!?!

Oh and don't get me started on the one that ended up not having TP. Macgyver would've been fucking proud...

According to BBC World, the Olympic Torch Relay successfully reached the peak of Mt. Everest today...

...Three questions:

1. Did they get lost, or are they all a bit too full of that "can-do!" spirit they seem to be pushing so hard at everybody?
2. If the idea is to keep the flame lit and intact all the way from Greece to China, wouldn't it just be easier and smarter to not pick the highest point of the Chinese border to cross, one where gale-force winds and year-round snowstorms wouldn't be the order of the day? Just a thought.
3. Seriously, who cares? So many people reach that peak each year that the actual wow-factor has decreased dramatically over the last decades. If they're trying to break some type of record with this, I will personally hand them the prize for " Most stupid piece of equipment along on a summit-attempt". Seriously, a lit torch on a mountaintop?

People, you need real hobbies.

It's not that I'm a violent person per se, but general human silliness/stupidity has really made me wish that they'd sell shotguns to people at office supply-stores.

Why?

Because there are just too many people coming up to you to give you bad advice on problems that you don't need to solve, and there really doesn't seem to be any other way of shutting them up. You can only nod and laugh so many times. After that, 12-gauge helps.

And I'm not necessarily meaning we should all go redecorate the offices bright red; bean bags, for instance, would be great ammunition! And even then their exit-velocity wouldn't really have to exceed throwing speed; just enough to mildly hurt, befuddle or stun a person so you could get the message through. Shooting down an idea the bean bag way. And just getting to shoot the next guy every once in a while would also help ease tension between coworkers.

I mean, think about it for a sec: meetings would never be quite so dull or uneventful, and people would stay on their toes, seeing as the boss is carrying a Mossberg around.

"But people wouldn't dare say their ideas out loud anymore" you say? Yeah, well, probably not, but that's how we do it here, anyway, so the difference between now and then wouldn't be so great, so there.

Of course, I'd also be a proponent for a higher velocity switch to be built in as well, for those really bad ideas. One swift shot to the crotch and we wouldn't have to worry about the next generation having someone of equal befuddlement. But then again, I have a facebook-account, so anything I say should be taken quite lightly.

Bad knees seem to run in the family, and a very personal affliction of mine I thought long gone has reared it's ugly head once again (I used to call him Ron).

I used to have a very weak right knee a few years back in my kung fu-heyday (yes, "I know kung fu"; it's not funny anymore, so shove it), but once I stopped, it got all better. Back then it used to like asphalt about as much as Nazis liked Jews, but nowadays it sucks the stuff up like a vacuum.

Until Monday.

Since my latest craze has been jogging in weather-conditions most people would call nuclear winter (we call it thawish), I've been inflicting things much worse than simply asphalt upon my moveppendages, and my knees were taking it quite nicely. But then, as I mentioned, Monday hit.

Snap, Crackle and Pop had nothing to do with it; their second cousins twice removed Slip, Twitch and Dislocate, however, might have had their fingers in the whole mess.

One short jog, one false step and one knee the size of Charlie Sheen's balls later I am now contemplating on simply finding a syringe and stabbing it through muscle, marrow and bone just to suck out all of the pain infesting my kneecap. That, or doing the previous with a syringe filled with morphine or your anestethic/joyride of choice. The pain isn't your average shooting or reverberating pain, it's just a bitch of a pain. And not the nice kind of bitch that you end up marrying and having short but heated arguments with over the color of the drapes; more so the kind that comes PMS:ing at you with an over-sized butcher's knife and you end up locking in the closet just to have enough time to call the paramedics. To put it in nerdy-terms, it megahurtz. It hurts to sit, to stand, to pee to walk; hell, to everything. And it doesn't really help that work involves heavy lifting and lots of walking up and down flights of stairs (surprisingly, down is more painful than up). But to hell with it, it's Thursday, meaning I only have to endure one more day of worked until I can get plastered and try to forget the pain.

And it's not like being coked up for one more day can have any difference anymore - I've been going on codeine-class painkillers since Tuesday and they still let me drive all day long! (Ok, not telling them about the meds may have something to do with it, but they can suck it; I like driving cranes.)

Whew, it's been a while...

Don't get me wrong, I'm still not getting that stuck to posting, I just happened to realize that someone may actually want to read what's been up, how'zit hanging and other sexual innuendos for erectile disfunction.

And that's the surprising thing, actually! A few weeks ago I actually found out that I have readers (notice the plural, as in many?)! People have actually started to find out about this aspiring supervillain's/egotripper's/wha'ev's blog and returned! Whoodathunk?

So perhaps I felt obliged to post. And even though I have found it quite hilarious to just look at my blog for the past few days, I felt the novelty was wearing off and that people might actually want content.

Not that I'd give you any...

But what has been up, anyway? Well... Jack shit, really. Work is starting to look like an even more distant dream than getting to stab Nelly Fur-tab or what's-her-tits in the face (God her music's annoying!) with the ever classical "we'll call you next week" ringing in my ears like the aftershock of an explosion.

But that's not to say I haven't been working! (Actually, it is.)

With all the extra time I have to spend (since I think I can officially call myself 'unemployed' until the next term starts and I can call myself 'student' instead, even though the only difference is that students generally have a smaller income due to welfare...) I've actually gotten a hold of myself and gotten a lot of off-the-wall projects done or gaining momentum once again.

Among other things is that I'm finally getting somewhere with my "promise" of painting something on my sister's wall. Since I've already gotten the idea more or less done, at least enough for me to start, I've been busy the last couple of days retouching the primary design for it. At first I was going to just try and tape the whole thing off and just paint over it all, but since I can't find the right kind of tape (and we call ourselves 'modern'!), I'm down to good old stencil-work - which is going to be quite a bitch of a thing to do since, If I'm actually going to pull through with my original idea, will take quite a few man-hours just to get the templates ready. But once I actually get the sketch a bit more stencil-friendly, it'll be... well, if not a breeze to do, then at least fun.

There are, of course, other things in this world that need to get done as well. One of the most urgent things I have to get finished (starting) with is resize and touch up all of my army-photos. Not because I could care, but in a moment of weakness I promised some of my brothers-in-arms that I'd send them all to them as soon as I'd get the whole package done.

I'd say they'll get them by June.

At least my friends are fortunate enough to have been born at regular intervals. One of them is going 20 this Friday, which mean extensive partying, which I'm always up for. Not only that, but his birthdayparty coincides with a gig featuring a friend of mine about 300m away from his. And neither are in my hometown, so the odds were quite good this time. I'll try (not) to post about my escapades this coming Friday on Saturday, so stay tuned.

Hmm, turned out to be quite the Postzilla, didn't it? Guess I do have to post more often so I can bitch and rant in a bit more bite-sized pieces. Oh well, 'note to self' 

Big things afoot, big things indeed, and although my sister has been here for the past few days and only left today, that wasn't a jab against her. She's quite slender.

But anyways, my sister Jenni was here for a few days (like she is every week, but for once I was in the house as well!), and fun conversations were had. Every time we're both in the same room it all ends up like rabbid family-reunion: fun times and funny noises. And really weird conversations...( and I still think Salma Hayek's hotter. I'm a guy, so by default I should win!)

In other news, I've been a busy little bee (-astard), getting all those things I was worrying about in the army done in a few days, whereas my earlier estimates predicted I wouldn't get them finished 'til summer. Of 2012. Shows what a little backbone can do, huh? Among other things, I've been in the (now successful) hunt after a new pair of glasses. Not going to go into that until I 'ave 'em on me face and pics can be posted on how fabulous I look... oh, and the glasses as well..

Quite surprisingly as well, today saw me getting an offer on a possible job. It'll be in construction, so it kind of seems I'll be continuing with my career of trying out manly jobs for a bit longer. Maybe I should screw universities and just become a fireman. Or a pornst--... The funny thing about it all, though, is that even though I'll be doing oddjobs upon odd jobs, they still want me to submit a freeform résumé before I even can talk moolah.

I mean, c'mon, right?

Writing a résumé wouldn't in itself be so hard to do, but y'know, to write a résumé you kind of give the impression that you think I'd actually have some qualifications or shit. I mean, freeform gives lets you go creative, but I still can't whack a blank paper on their table, can I? 

Why can't they just give it? I could just storm in and start shouting something like "YOU! You there! Fat man with the tie! Yes, you! I'm fabulous and up for a job! You want to hire me, pays me munneh and have me come around on weekdays when I feel like it! I will drink ur koffees and eet ur donuts, and you will pays me good munneh for it! And a chair, I want a comfy chair!!"

Now why can't the world work like that, huh?

Conscription coming to a full stop "thank-you-goodbye-keep-the-change"-wise and me on the verge of once again being a free man, I hadn't come to think about the fact that, while my last three days staring from tomorrow will mainly be about us giving back our equipment, I also have to give up my gun. Of couse, not for a moment did I expect them to let me keep it as a souvenir (although that would've been hella-cool), but still... I mean, how is poor ol' serial no. 965537 (or Mr. 37 as he's affectionately called) going to be able to take on the world without me?

More to the point: how am I going to be able to walk around town without a loaded 7.62 RK-95 TP - assault-rifle around my neck or in my hands? I don't mean that I'm some kind of gun-toting lunatic who just got a taste of the sweet life, lead'n'all, but dawg-gonnit, that rifle was the only piece of equipment in the army I actually liked, and kept liking for that fact! (even though the new gasmask does look trendy.)

It probably wasn't even nearly this hard to wean me from my mother's teat as it is to get me away from my gun. You get that, Mr. first-lieutenant, my gun! It just felt good to have that rifle with you, armed with a 30-round clip of good ol' FMJ-rounds, knowing that if anyone got to your nerves too much, it was one pull-down of the safety and another fast pull of the trigger and you didn't have to listen to him any more. It's not that I'd ever even think of doing that to anyone, don't get me wrong, but I've lived with that gun for quite a while, and it was nice to have, y'know, options...

I'm not sounding like too much of a gun-nut, am I?

No? Good. Because I haven't even started on ranting why I have to be allowed to keep my shoulder-mounted 112mm, 9,5kg, 293m/s high-explosive APILAS-rocketlauncher. I mean, that thing is 1,5kgs of pure, Munroe-effect-guaranteed fun (or highly explosive compound, but y'know, eye of the beholder, right?)!

It's the 26th of D-cember, and Christmas is over... Well, at least for my part; I got fed, I got presents and I got to give some people some presents as well (I added that last part so that I wouldn't seem like too much of a self-centered douche... but I am a self-centered douche). But y'know, we celebrated ol' Jesse and can now move along, right?

... Well I think we can move on...

Anyways, next up, New Years Eve! And here comes the kicker:

BHAAAAAGH!!!

I have no idea how I'll spend it! Revenge of the wood-wood-woods, part 3: not only did me being cut off from civilization and socializing f**k up my Christmas, but thanks to my twisted affection to being close to birch-trees, I haven't had any time to lay out or make a plan for New Years. Wuddafuk?! Not only that, but most of my male friends having been in the same rut as I was, and them being the usual suspects for arranging great (and near-fatal) parties, there hasn't really been anyone left to do the actual planning.

Therefore: I'm fucked.

I currently have only 4 days left to come up with something (that is to say, some place I can spend New Years at), or bust.

But it shouldn't be impossible, even this late; a friend of mine laid out 4 things we (he) need(s) for new years:

1. A place to party at.

2. Booze.

3. A sauna.

4. Chicks. Hotties. Girls.

Though not claiming to be some crusader against male chauvinism or objectification, I can do without the girls the way he means. I am also the proud owner of a healthy (ok, wrong word) batch of booze, but other than that, I got nuthin'. The sauna stays; it's a Finnish thing, you don't have to understand. It just involves a lot of overly drunk, naked people in a very small, steamy space doing whatever (one New Years we had a snowball-fight, so it's not necessarily as kinky as you might think).

But 1. is a problem. Ok, I have options, but I still want something definite, a place to spend (at least the start of) the evening with my closer friends. There are of course things to do and people to see later on (a friend of mine is hosting a New Years-party at a local club), but I still need some place to start off at. '

Bhaaaaagh...