Over Not Under!

It's the little things in life that matter the most. The tiny day to day issues that your normal, 9 to 5, carbon based life form tend to not notice, but that immediately raise red flags for you once they cross into your field of vision and are forced to interact with them.

I'm almost positive you, the gentle reader, already know exactly what I'm talking about:

the person who doesn't wipe the spit out of the corner of their mouth when they talk,

cars that take up two parking spaces,

pubic hair on a toothbrush.

The list could go on forever. Tiny little nuances that could be corrected oh so easily, but for some damnable reason they never are. They just sit there, staring you in the face, mocking you with their simple idiocy.

What makes it worse is having to be forced to stare at these faults knowing that you could easily correct any one of them in an instant. But, dare you?! Dare you invade someones personal facial space and wipe off their salivary shame? Dare you call out all those who would be proud enough to join you and lift a random strangers car and re park it properly in the lot of a TJ Maxx? Dare you risk the possibility of infection to remove the unsightly mess of curly love hair from a tooth brush just because it's the right thing to do?

Probably not.

Like you I have many, many little tangents that I run into in life that tend to piss me off to no end. The one that I seem to run into the most often, and hence piss me off the most, is one I think goes far too unnoticed.

Toilet Paper Placement.

When I sit down to take care of business, and I finish said business, I expect only one thing afterwards: to be able to place my hands on a clean roll of ivory, imitation cloth like splendor, and pull off as many sheets as easily as possible. Emphasis on easily.

Now in my mind, this should not be a hard thing to expect at all! It should be expected! Why am I complaining then? Because for some reason, some unexplainable god forsaken reason, there is a trove of human beings out there that cannot grasp the simple fundamental concept of properly placing a roll of basic fucking toilet paper onto it's little holder.

Am I going too fast for you? Am I getting too far ahead of myself? Well let's go back a step!

The basic design and physics of a roll of toilet paper, i.e. how it was ordained by God, is that when pulled, the sheets of butt cleansing paper must roll off the TOP of the roll of toilet paper. Let me reiterate.

The...Top.

"Why is this so important that it needs to be explained and also deems worthiness to be a Fact of your Life Bob?" I'm glad you asked!

Nothing irritates me more than when I have to wipe my tiny ass, and I go for a sheet or five, and lo and behold...there's nothing there! I see the paper, it's right there in front of me, yet nothing is coming into my slightly stained finger tips! How is this even humanly possible?

Because some Podunk fool didn't take the half second extra out of his/her life to think about me and use the horrible physical effort I'm sure it would have taken to actually turn the ungodly heavy roll of toilet paper around and put it in the dispenser properly.

Or to put it more eloquently, because some A-hole put the Toilet Paper in upside down.

Because of this I now have to sit on the toilet, feeling like a moron, either fingering the back of the toilet paper roll desperately trying to get just a shred of paper for my grimy ass, or spinning said roll with one hand and catching the extra paper from the back with the other. Either way I feel like a retired 70 year old woman at a casino desperately trying to get coins out of a slot machine. Except I'm on a toilet.

Fortunately for me I have the ability to change the world with this affliction of mine. Kinda. Obviously I have control of my Toilet Paper in my own personal surroundings, that goes without saying. BUT If I am at a friends house, and I happen to see the Toilet Paper upside down: around it goes buddy boy, around it goes. I will not have it in my presence.

Sadly there are instances where I cannot alter this bastardization in anyway: restaurants, grocery stores, firing ranges. Reason being because they smartly keep their TP under lock and key for protection. Protection from me.

So it's a Fact: Over not under folks. And if I find my Toilet Paper upside down in my house after this post I know that you did it!

Game Over *sniff*

I'm sure by now that you have all gotten the idea that I like to play videogames on a semi to fairly regular basis. In my younger more fertile youth filled days I played them quite a bit more. So I guess that would put them into a category of regular to unhealthy basis of play.

My point is that the wonderful world of video games has been a large mainstay of my life. Even as a child my parents would take me to arcades and waste their quarters on me so they could watch me mash the joysticks endlessly on Frogger as I squealed like an idiot, pretending like I knew what I was doing. They would smile and laugh at my happiness, the whole while hoping that I wasn't mentally handicapped and was just easily distracted by bright colors and loud noises instead(note: technically I am mentally handicapped).

Throughout all these years I have been able to do one thing for the majority of my game playing: keep my cool. By that I mean whenever I lost, or sucked absolute anus at a video game I didn't start yelling or screaming at the top of my lungs, or cry like the tips of my pinkies had been cut off. Nope, I just went on playing and generally kept an even keel.

Generally.

Unfortunately there are always exceptions to the rule. It could be something as simple as fatigue, caffeine or even a dead pet. For me, my own exceptions were just the games themselves. They were my breaking point, the things that were to cause me to briefly go insane.

I know it sounds sort of like an obvious reason, but the games that made me lose it weren't just any games. No, these were games that were so ungodly hard (or stupid) that they couldn't be beaten and the entire time you played them it felt like they were mocking you for even trying to do so. And for some stupid reason, even though I knew better, I kept trying to beat them regardless of how many times they spanked me in defeat. And when they spanked, they spanked hard.

Now when I say I reached my breaking point, I don't mean I raised my voice at the T.V. and said "Come On!" or threw my hands up in the air. Oh no. I broke down like a blubbering idiot. I stomped my feet, screamed like a girl, and after 2 hours of being bettered by an 8 to 16 bit machine I started to shed tears and blame the machine for cheating. Which it was.

What I would like to present to you now is a condensed list of the various games that have caused me irreparable mental anguish in my life, the ones that have done the most harm.

• Ghosts and Goblins (NES) - Why man was allowed to create this game I will never know. It's difficult to the point of embarrassing...literally. Any upgrades you receive are actually worse than the weapon you start out with, the equivalent of the mouth of hell opens up and is constantly out to rip you apart every two feet, and on top of that you are forced to walk around in your underwear if you underperformed. Difficult AND degrading. If you want your child to never play video games, force them to play this one over and over.
• Battletoads (NES) - Pretty fun game at first. It's a strange Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle knockoff whose main characters are named after bodily fluids. It's fun for the first five minutes, and then the game punishes you for enjoying those five minutes. Every moment you play after that is absolutely unforgiving to the point where you can't even play the damn game.
• The Super Star Wars Series (SNES) - It looks Awesome! It sounds Awesome! It's Star Wars! It must be the greatest thing ever, right?! Eat my butt. These are the games that actually made me burst into tears because it made me feel like I wasn't a good enough person to play them they were so effing hard. What made it worse was that it would give you glimpses of hope that you could actually progress further in the game, and then it would slap you down like a fool and crush those glimmers of hope, or do one better by letting you go to the next level and not even let you move five feet without killing you mercilessly. I loathe these games. I'm crying right now.
• Street Fighter Series (Arcade) - Now I wouldn't cry after playing these games, but just get pissed off. Why? Because any time you would go to an arcade to play one of these games, some A-hole would come up, put in a quarter, play Ken and beat the crap out of you because he memorized every special move and then he would go on and play for three more hours. So you just had to stand there without anymore quarters and not play as E-Honda for probably what would have been five more minutes, because some prick wanted to be just that: a prick. You know what, screw it, I hate all fighting games because of crap like that.

There are of course other games that I loathe and hate, that cause madness and anger to spring up inside me, but these are the ones that have caused me the most pain. These are the ones that have poisoned my life. I'm sure there are more than this, but I think that the traumatic impact of playing them has caused my mind to blank out that experience altogether.

So it's a Fact: Unless you want to see me turn into a blubbering idiot keep these games away from me.

Life, and The Facts Therein!

Alot has happened in the last month, enough in Fact to keep me from posting erroneous Facts on a regular basis for the last month. Miraculous things, scandalous things, and an amazing lack of erotic encounters! Yes, it has been an amazing month.

First I would like to start off on a positive high note and force you to explore some of the miraculous things that I experienced. Earlier this month I received a text message from one of my best friends informing me that he was in the hospital awaiting the birth of his second offspring. Being the dutiful friend that I am, I immediately sent a text message to him and his wife that was nothing short of girly giggles and the emoticon equivalent of spastic five year old jumping up and down in a frantic pixie stix high. Then I told him I'd be there after work.

Once I managed to get to the birthing center I was greeted by friends/family and sat down in excited discomfort, waiting for the good news of the arrival of a freshly minted child. Sure enough in about ten minutes we got it! My arrival dawned the arrival of a new life!

After they hosed down the new spawn, branded it and made sure it wasn't allergic to red dye no. 5, they allowed everyone to take a peak. Nothing beats that new baby smell!

Afterwards I congratulated my best friends wife on surviving the process of birth (which isn't fair to call her 'Best Friend's Wife', because she's one of my best friends too. But for clarity purposes we'll just leave it as is for right now), went to eat with my best friend, then promptly went out to celebrate by having a few drinks and then urinated in an alleyway.

So It's a Fact: My arrival will guarantee the birth of a child.

Oh yeah, that other stuff.

Well, now that I think about it all the scandalous stuff that happened to me this past month...I can't really talk about it. Why? For legal purposes. If the person(s) involved were to stumble across this (ugh) blog, then everything that I rant against said person(s) could very well be used in a court of law against me. I think.

And honestly the last thing that I need is for my life to start turning out like an episode of Boston Legal. Actually no, that would be great because then I would probably be having sex on a regular basis and I would win in court!

So It's Another Fact: My life is filled with shadowy plots you could never comprehend! Is it blown out of proportion for entertainment purposes, or watered down so you can handle it in small portions? You decide!

EPILOGUE

So after a month that's about all I can think of writing in just one post! Exciting isn't it! Sadly, I truly did sit down with the intention of writing down all the details of the 'scandalou' goings on this past month, but then it dawned on me that I couldn't. For that I kind of apologize. But, as the blurb says underneath the title, I vow to not be so effing lazy and post more often. I mean I think I'm pretty interesting, I'm plenty eager to write about myself! It's like mental masturbation.

Get that image out of your head.