Rant & Rave Thread

Rant: The OFLC and SA Attorney-General Michael Atkinson: If I want to set zombies on fire in my video games then DAMMIT I WILL!!!
Just because YOU can't control what your kids are doing when they're online and playing video games DOES NOT MEAN THE REST OF US SHOULD SUFFER!!!

Can you imagine? If you introduce an R+18 to gaming the minors will be ALL OVER THEM. Never mind the fact that they can't actually purchase them, and they wont be displayed.

You're worried that if we are allowed to buy these R+18 games that the kids at home will play them when we aren't looking. Never mind the fact that we already own heaps of violent and graphic movies they can put on whenever we aren't watching, and the AO magazines they can look through at the petrol station. Or the fact that some of us don't have children in our households.

But here's the deal, Mr.Atkinson. I am 21 years old. I am an honours student at one of Australia's best universities. I will not become maladjusted just because I play graphic and violent video games. And there are no kids in my household being tempted by my violent video games.

It is up to parents to monitor their childrens gaming habits, and up to parents to stop them from getting access to violent video games. That is not the government's role! I don't want the watered down version of L4D2! Lol. So, just a heads up, ATKINSON. I'm buying the uncut version while I'm overseas, along with A.v.P (which you banned completly), and when I get back I'm taking my XBox into primary schools and letting all the little kids play it at lunchtime. SCREW YOU.

 

Rave: Making Nettdata's point all that funnier. Some people are just born socially awkward and creepy. Oh my that brings the funny on so many levels.

 

At this time, I have nowhere else to post this story, so I'll title this as a rant/rave.

Saturday night, I was that guy. I was the highlight of my Office Christmas Party for all of the right/wrong reasons. Let's start in order shall we:

3:30 pm - I arrive home after a four and a half hour drive through the snow. I walk in the door, kiss the girlfriend and immediately start delving into my 12-pack of beer. My Office Party starts in two hours, and is an 'open bar' event. This does not deter me from cracking open my own 12-pack and starting early.

4:30 pm - The girlfriend and I head out to pick up our friends. We decide that we want to pre-drink together for an hour at our place, and because the bosses are providing free taxis to all employees, the friends don't need to use their vehicles. During this drive I successfully drink two beers while riding shotgun with the girlfriend. It was her idea. At this point I've had five beers, and am starting to feel a good glow.

5:30 pm - We call the taxi to come and get us from our apartment. I've consumed 8 beers in two-and-a-half hours, and my speech and coordination is already out of sync. The girlfriend publically exclaims, "It's going to be one of those nights? Just promise me you won't get sick."

I respond with, "I make no promises."

***Note the obvious foreshadowing that this statement entails.***


5:40 - Arrive at the Office Party, and more than half of the guests have arrived, and the fun really begins. Everybody notices pretty quickly that I'm drunk, and at least three co-workers suggest out loud that I slow down. Drunk me doesn't take too kindly to these suggestions, and I immediately head to the bar and grab a beer, and a shot.

6:55 - The past hour or so has been a whirlwind of visiting. It's one of those nights where everybody who walks in the door wants to do a shot or have a drink with me. At this stage I've completely lost count of the amount of drinks I've had and the girlfriend is becoming more noticably frustrated and concerned.


7:00 - Supper time. Finally a change for me to slow down and eat a big meal and soak up some of the booze right? Wrong. I am far more concerned with drinking beer than eating the excellent catered meal in front of me. The girlfriend continues to ask me nicely to, "Slow down please, and eat your food." While standing in line, I'm joking with my co-workers, and had now turned into the sentimental, "I Love you Man" kind of drunk. I think I scared the shit out of my socially awkward News Director with all of my compliments about his work ethic.

7:30 - The girlfriend is now getting really frustrated. I hardly ate any of my food, while continuing to drink an absurd amount of booze. Having lost count far earlier in the night, I can only guess that at this stage I've finished at least 10 beers, and had three or four shots on the night.

8:00 - It's time for the Chinese Gift Exchange! I draw number 19 out of 30 employees, so for the longest time I'm sitting, and drinking, and laughing at the funny gifts that are being bartered for by my co-workers.

8:13 - It's my turn! I really want the white Team Canada Men's Hockey t-shirt, but I know damn well that if I claim it, some other schmuck who doesn't like hockey as much as me is going to take it from me. So I grab the microphone from the emcee (Think Tucker at the Charity Debacle) and I get the rest of the crowd to help me choose. I asked my co-workers if I should "Grab the White Shirt?"

***A loud chorus of cheers***

"Or do I pick something different?"

***A slightly more mellow cheer***

I respond with, "Take it wins... But I'm not going to take it."

Then my General Manager stands up and says, "Voice.. Take the present in the envelope!"

Without thinking, I grab the envelope on the present table, open it up, and for the second time in my three-year employment with the company I had won a meal at KFC with my GM!

Everybody cheered loudly, knowing that this gift had gone to the right recipient. I pumped my fists in glory, then yelled as loud as I can, "If any of you steal this gift from me, I'll fucking kill you!"

*** Enormous laughter from the audience. Everybody is entertained by my antics, and my GM seems pleased that I was the winner of his prize. Heck, he was the one who suggested I take the envelope! ***

The remainder of the night is a complete blur. The only reason why I know what happened is because the Girlfriend told me in great detail last night about what happened.

9:00 - I drunkenly stumble over to one of my co-workers and demand that he give my girlfriend the Snuggie that he won during the gift-exchange. He laughs and tells me that his girlfriend wanted it, and that's why he got it for her. I proceed to mock him, and walk off in frustration.

9:08 - One of my new co-workers who we'll call 'Guido' asks me to do a shot with him. I like 'Guido' a lot, and always enjoy joking around with him at the office. This is the first time we've gotten the change to drink together. He orders two shots that can only be described as the most vile, repulsive thing I've ever tasted. He ordered a shot of whiskey, tequila, vodka mixed.

I do my shot, and immediately my stomach becomes queasy. I realize that I will soon go from 'Happy-Go-Lucky Voice' to 'Puking Lunatic Voice that is going to make a scene.'

9:09 - I throw up on the floor. Some of the splatter lands on my buddie's girlfriend's face. She runs off to the bathroom, so do I, and I proceed to puke one more time.

9:12 - The girlfriend angrily informs me that I've just thrown up on her friend. I find her, and apologize profusely for what just happened. Luckily she's a sweetheart, and was totally forgiving. After puking twice, I thought I was good to go. I danced for a few songs (poorly) with the Girlfriend, and she got mad at my lack of movement and went across the room. I find a comfortable seat, and I sit down.

9:30 - At this point, I'm in a total daze. I'm borderline unresponsive, I've thrown up again at my seat, and every second minute somebody is approaching the Girlfriend about my condition. She hears from five different people that, "Your significant other should probably go home. You might want to go look after him."

Understandedly so, she was embarrassed, and furious, so after a few minutes of trying to restore me, she calls me a cab.

10:10 - I somehow stumble outside and hop into a taxi. I guess I was coherent enough to tell the cabbie my address. The girlfriend calls me on my cell to ask if I have my keys. My only repeated response was a slurred, "yes." Again, I remind you that I have NO memory of any of this whatsoever.

10:20 - I have drunkenly removed my clothes, and have passed out in my bed.

12:30 am - The Girlfriend returns home and comes to check on me. She has spent the past two hours having some fun fun, but also sending me seething text messages that I would inevitably read in the morning. She was mad that she had nobody to dance with, and she was also choked because she told me that she didn't want me to get sick and I did so anyway.

She comes into the bedroom and removes the covers off the bed. I drunkenly grab them, and pull them back on top of me. This frustrates her, so she grabs my head, turns it towards her, and then SLAPS me as hard as she could, trying to wake me up!

Apparently, all I responded with was, "Owww! What the Fuck!" and then fell back asleep.


6:30 am - I awaken to discover that I'm in bed alone. Not a good sign. At first I wonder to myself, "Maybe I was snoring. Perhaps she's just sleeping upstairs." Then I realize that I have no idea how I got to bed. Even worse.

I stumble to the bathroom to throw up twice more, and then I notice my phone on the bathroom table. I check my messages, and sure enough there are five messages from the Girlfriend.

The gist of the message was something like this: "Tonight you were not the person that I want to marry, You weren't 'that guy.' Instead you were the guy who everybody was concerned about because you kept puking everywhere. I didn't have anybody to dance with because you were too drunk. You're lucky if I speak to you at all today."

Ouch. Bare in mind this is the girl that I respect more than anybody in the world. The girl that I've been together with for a year and a half now, and the girl who I've battled 'tooth and nail' for during a very difficult summer.

I stumbled back into the bedroom, and immediately texted her an apology. I then texted my two best buddies that I work with and apologized to them for 'god knows what I did last night.'

I fall back asleep knowing that today is going to be the day from hell.

10:30 - I wake up, shower, and then text the Girlfriend to let her know that I'm leaving the house, going to the radio station, then I'm off to call a hockey game. I've got a two and a half hour drive ahead of me, with tretcherous roads, and frankly I'm dreading every second of the drive because I know that I'll be thinking about 'last night' the whole time. I also tell the Girlfriend that I'm going to call the GM, and several other employees and apolgoize for my antics.

She responds by saying, "I'm probably the only one you hurt last night. Everybody else will be fine. But right now I'm really upset."

Thankfully that still didn't stop her from giving me a hug and a kiss goodbye before the road-trip. Her face was flooded with tears while doing so, but goodness it felt good to atleast touch her.

Fast forward to 11:30 pm yesterday:

We win 5-4 in a shootout. It's the second-best game I've called all year, and everything is positive. Except I'm still bummed out because I've hurt the Girlfriend. I get home, and crawl into bed beside her.

She spends the next hour explaining everything to me that I've listed above, and after some more tears from her, and after some more guilt from me, she finally was able to smile and forgive me.

Today I bought her some really expensive 20 dollar shampoo that she wanted, and I bought her lunch. We're good again, and probably better than we were 48 hours ago.

Everybody today at work today commended me on being able to drink so much, and more or less everybody was entertained by my antics. The GM and I are on great terms, and we're going for KFC later this week.

Still undecided whether this is a rant or rave. If you are still reading. Thank You.

 

rave: The Wife's Dark Chocolate Church Windows, with or without coconut. Christmas cookies are like anal without the poop smell. (Or so I hear on this board)

 

Rave:

Bonus time.

Ravier:

It's more than I make in two weeks.

Rant:

25% flat tax rate on bonuses means the government just took a nice bite out of my Christmas cookie. Fuck them.

 

Rave: been working on some writing, the few I've let have a taste are nagging for more.

Rant: had a torrid dream TWO DAYS AGO and can't focus still! Maybe I should write the smut, so as to clear this fog...

 

29 years ago today. Tragic.

 

Rant: Dreamed (drempt? Whatever) I was a vampire last night. Fuck Twilight being everywhere to now make me dream about that shit.

Rave: Other than the weird dream , twas a good ass sleep.

 

rant: Been stuck waiting around all day for my couriers to phone back to organise the delivery amazon. Still haven't heard back from them and is engaged when I call. Such a frustrating way to spend my day off.

rant: Aside from christmas day, I am going to be working every day (and most nights till 4-6am) from the 18th till the new year. I think its going to take more than caffeine to keep me going this year. Don't know how well I'll cope with working 11am to 5am for nearly a week without a proper break.
On the other hand the money I'll make from tips, the amount of free alcohol I'll drink and the fun I have working at my club should hopefully make up for it

rave:be able to afford to build a new pc and get festival tickets for boom, benicassim and glastonbury, so at least it'll be a good summer

 

Rave: A+ on my group therapy paper and an A+ for a final grade.

Rave: 102 on my assessments exam, highest grade in the class, blowing the curve.

Rant: Professor pointing out the fact that I got the highest grade on the test. I've never been "that guy" in this type of situation before (though, I've been a "that guy" in many other situations).

 

Rant: I walked in the door to my house today after work to the most putrid smell ever. My dog had taken a dump the size of a baby in the middle of the living room floor, and I had to get a shovel out to clean it up.

 

RAVE: We had our second major ultrasound yesterday. The guy we went to who is the ultrasound specialist is often referred to as Doctor Doom by a bunch of people my wife knows who have been to him. He is very thorough in his ultrasound analysis. Very cold and calculating. Only, in my opinion, because he's very statistical. I don't think he means to be harsh, he just doesn't hold back and tells people exactly what he is finding in his scanning, etc.

Well, this is a rave because he's been nothing but awesome with us. *Knock on wood* Everything is going perfectly. There's 10 fingers so far, 10 toes. There's a brain and a beating heart, spine, everything. No defects that him and the blood work can tell. He said it was 97% going to be a girl last visit 6 weeks ago and this time he confirmed 100%.

Now I just pray that this future little girl ends up looking like her mother. Here's hoping the second half of the pregnancy go as well as the first.

 

Rant: My dog ran away. Stupid bloody animal.

Rave: She ran three doors up and hung out at the mechanics there. I love that dog.

 

RANT: Watching the memorial for the Lakewood Officers. Coming from a family of Cops, this tragedy hit especially close to home for me. Seeing the tremendous outpouring of support from the community brings tears to my eyes. As do the bagpipes. Always the fucking bagpipes.

P.S. Go buy some pizza today.

 

RAVE: The hilarity that is the teenage mind. One of my students emailed me from his parent's email address with a terribly scathing email. Ahahahahhahhahahahaaha! You'd think if they were creative enough to figure out how to get into their parents' email, they'd be smart enough to use spell check. Then again, what suggestion would spell check give for such a bastardization of spelling "machore" and "dissaplynn." Dumbass.

RANT: I'm the spelling teacher.

 

Rant: Jesus God it's 1:25 pm on a Tuesday, and I'm more hungover than I've ever been. Seriously, what the fuck. I've been trying to hide out all day, since my eyes are the color of fucking HELL and I'm not quite sure if that shower this morning was enough to get rid of the ashtray floating down a river of stale beer smell coming from me. On the plus side I think everyone just figures I'm normal sick, since it is fucking Tuesday.

Rave: Had a fucking blast last night. It was my sisters last day visiting me and we partied until fucking 4 in the morning. We hit a few bars, saw a pretty solid band, played some pool, and (I at least) got ridiculously smashed. I vaguely remember getting kicked out of some bar for peeing somewhere I wasn't supposed to be peeing, and talking to a hooker about how angry I was about it for near an hour. Then the hooker walked me home. I don't know why, but she did. I remember telling her every 25 seconds that, "Your trick ass ain't getting a penny outta me, just so you know." You've gotta be on your guard with whores. In the end she hugged me outside of my apartment building, gave me a kiss on the cheek, and walked back to her corner. Fucking weird... I should have just shelled out a 20 spot for a bj or something, whatever.

Then I slept fully dressed and woke up late for work... great.

 

rant: Fuck amazon. they can't even print labels without fucking it up. It's turned a quick one hour job into a 3 hour effort.

rave: Though the mindless, repetitive nature of apply labels and boxing books is oddly relaxing. that might be the weed.. yep, definitely the weed

 

Rave: Pick up my house keys tomorrow morning!!!! Aircon is booked in for installation next Wednesday and the patio plans have been sent to council for approval.

It's been a long time coming but I cannot wait to get in and start all the hard work.

 

Rave: Finally got the Christmas decorations up in the house. Nothing too special really, but it makes a big difference.

Rave: Time to sit back, sip some Baileys, and enjoy some Christmas tunes.