Tag Archive: rant



There are lots of these things in my life. More than I thought actually.

The list once upon a time pretty much consisted of:
Broccoli
Brussel sprouts
Onions
Mushrooms
Tomatoes
Bananas
and so on…. Stuff that I just didn’t really want to put in my mouth.

 

Then, I got a little bit older and the list changed a little bit:
Boys
Spots (with icky puss stuff in them)
Romance novels
Neighbours (yes, the TV show)
Eastenders
Spiders (in fact anything bug-like or creepy-crawly)
Barbie
Make up
Take That

 

Then, I got even older and realised that some of the stuff on the previous two lists had stayed while some had left. Which left the list kinda looking like this:
Mushrooms
Bananas
Eastenders (and any other freakin soap)
TV in general
Spots (with icky puss stuff in them)
Men (at least boys have an excuse for being gross; men are grown ups!)
Spiders and all bug kind (yes, even including ladybirds)

 

All kinda superficial actually. Not that it bothers me much, because I was superficial back then. More recently however, I look at the list again and realise that there is much more out there that makes me cringe, shudder, wince or flee for the hills and I’m not just talking about mushrooms. My list now includes:
Rudeness
Unnecessary or forced swearing (to look ‘cool’)
Smoking
Twilight
Politicians
Cheap scare tactics in ‘horror films’
Reality TV
Skid marks on the toilet bowl
Badly written erotica
Roadworks
People who complain without realising how good they have it
Certain brio pens (random, yes, but some are really rubbish; I only use Bic now)
The Post Office
Pop music (and Hip Hop actually)
Red nail varnish (on me)

 

And its all for different reasons. However…! There was something I saw today that makes me think no matter how old I get, no matter how my tastes evolve, no matter how many times the world turns and all the things around me change for better or worse, there is one thing that will now, and always feature in the top end of my Eeeew List.

And that is this:
Dirty, abandoned condom.

Have a good day everyone! :-P

Valentines Day 2012 -_-


Right. I wouldn’t normally do this, but today I just… I can’t help myself….

I need a rant – just a quick one! – and since its about THIS day, it seems that I have to do it on the right day.

Valentine’s Day. The day of Saint Valentine… the day when people go skippy-crazy over romance and love and chocolate and other gushy, gooey crap that makes me want to hurl.

First, I feel its important to say that I’m not single; I’m in a relationship and have been for nudging on three years. I’m so blissfully happy in this relationship that it almost makes me sick and there are children on the way that are going to grow up knowing that both their parents love each other deeply. The current sentiment is left over from when I was single. But… saying it that way is kinda wrong. Because its not to say that I was green-eyed and bitter about Valentine’s Day when I was single, because I wasn’t. I was just sick to death of the hype, and the hike in chocolate prices and the lashings of red everywhere along with flowers and hearts and sappy little rhymes that, on any other day, you would just say were shit. So… single or not… I feel the same way about Valentine’s Day.

For those of you who don’t know this… Saint Valentine (Christian saint(s) by the way) are a bunch of folk who were brutally murdered in one form or another during various persecutions. Lord knows where the romance element from, but its pretty damn depressing if you ask me. I think Chaucer has something to do with making this particular saint (or set of saints) as famous as they are now – or at least starting it off – but I really can’t be arsed to read the wiki. You can if you like, its here.

I just… GAH! I get so sick of it; every year, the red pops up just before the Easter-Craze (as I like to call it) really kicks off (though you can by mini eggs in shops now -_-) and then its impossible to find a birthday card because every shelf is rammed with heart-encrusted, frilly crap. Even at work, there are heart mobiles dangling from the ceiling… very pretty I’m sure, but a shit load of effort for one day, when people will barely notice them because they’re too busy working!.

Dave and I aren’t doing anything today. In fact, I’m doing my hair *snerk* It needs the attention and since today is the only free day that’s when its going to be done.

The point, really, that I probably should have started with (before skipping off into a frothing rage) is simply this:

Why oh why do you have to wait for a specific day to declare your love?

Why not just when you look into each other’s eyes one night?

Or after you’ve had a tremendous fight?

Or when you’re looking down at the scans of your babies currently growing bigger and bigger day by day?

Or in the middle of the night when you’ve just elbowed him in the face because you’re wriggling about trying to get comfortable?

Hell, why not every damn day…?! Do something to show it, express it, even if you don’t expressly say it?

Love isn’t about one day, its forever, and if you really feel the need to express it to massive, excessive and often ridiculous proportions on one day of the year… one one day out of 365… then are you expressing it enough?

I don’t bloody think so.

Humph.

/rant

CDO?


I had a rant the other day. And it seems that my dear, dear work colleagues are still giggling over it. Can’t say I blame them to be honest; I kinda brought it on myself.

I’ll explain.

After the Swine Flu scare of 2009, my place of work has ensured that there are always adequate hand washing facilities on site. Not that these weren’t there before, but they weren’t as obvious. On many of the walls, there is now a dispenser of antibacterial hand gel and all the toilets (to my knowledge – I haven’t been into the men’s loos) are plastered with signs on ‘how to wash your hands.’

Poster showing six steps on proper hand washing technique.

Click for full size...

Now, our sign isn’t exactly like this, but its close enough. And it quotes ‘minimum hand wash time 15-20 seconds.’

Brilliant! And, admittedly, since I actually caught swine flu and ended up quarantined for two and a half weeks at that time, I’ve taken hand washing very seriously ever since. Even more so since understanding that everything I do outside my body can have an affect on the twins growing inside my body. So… I paid attention to the posters, learned the technique and I have to say, I’ve caught far fewer bugs since then.

In our toilets, we also employ the super fast Dyson hand-dryers. You know; shove your hands in, slowly pull them out. You get a ten second blast of pleasantly warm air and by the time you’re done, if you use the whole ten seconds, your hands are totally dry.

Well, since I work on computers, I make sure my hands are dry each time I go to the loo. I use the full ten seconds.

But…! Over the past couple of weeks I’ve noticed something very odd. And disturbing.

Given the frequency that I now have to use the loo (*frustrated fist shake*) there are always other ladies in there around the same time as me. I don’t mind, even though I’d prefer just to be able to void myself in peace. Anyway, as I wash my hands another lady is more often than not still using one of the three cubicles. So I finish wash my hands, shake the excess water off and shove my hands in the dryer. By the time I’m five seconds dry however, the other lady has usually come out of the loo, ‘washed’ her hands and is looming behind me waiting to use the dryer.

On the surface here’s nothing wrong with that, but think a little about the times involved.

I have ten full seconds at the dryer.
Washing your hands should take 15-20 if you’re doing it properly (hell, at least 10 seconds if you’re at least pretending to do it properly)
That should be plenty of time for me to finish using the dryer, wander off and thus leave it free for the next lady.

So… if someone coming out of the loo after me is waiting to use the dryer that I’ve only just started using, there is no way in hell that they’ve washed their hands properly. Hell, they probably haven’t even used soap, since it takes at least ten seconds to get that crap off your skin if you’ve worked it into any sort of lather.

-_-

When my realisation was too much to handle alone, I went back to my desk to share what I’d discovered. Unfortunately, by that time of day, most of the women on my team had already gone for the day (key time workers), so I ended up sharing my observation with a pair of blokes.

It didn’t go well. They laughed at me – both of them – and told me that I was clearly a bit OCD. My immediate response was to correct them; ‘Don’t you mean CDO?’ At which point I received twin blank looks.

Now, this joke has been around in my gaming circles for ages, but when I explained that the letters had to be in alphabetical order, I got even more stares. Slightly bemused ones this time. *sigh* I guess they just don’t get me.

But I put the question to you guys; what do you think? Not about my clear CDO tendencies, but how gross it is that these women are just not properly washing their hands! And then waltzing through the office touching printer buttons, keyboard keys, lift call buttons, stairs hand-rails…. Just thinking about it makes me want to break out the haz-mat suit. -_- Or at least some back up gel any time somebody comes near me.

And is it just women? What about blokes? Having not spent much time in the blokes toilets, I don’t have anything to compare it to. So tell me guys; how do you wash your hands?My hand gel; carried in my handbag at ALL times.

What Makes Erotica?


Humph!
Twitter Rant

Anybody watching my Twitter feed recently will have probably ducked for cover several times, hiding from my repeated lapses into rage spitting rants regarding erotica. I can’t help it, but I think writing something here will get it out of my system.

So… here goes.

I used to write Yaoi. Shit loads of it and when I look back at some of those lemony pages, I feel something inside me want to curl up and die. When it doesn’t get the chance to – because its attached to the rest of me – it begs for a hefty slap at writing such dribble. Not at all to say that all lemon yaoi is awful, because its certainly not. Mine was… that’s all.

Anyway, the point is, when I stepped away from Yaoi, its because I wanted to write something more realistic with an erotic element. I didn’t want it to be about anime characters; I wanted it to be about my characters with feelings and personalities that I’d put there, not paraphrased from a manga or anime. So I started to write shorts.

The very first thing I realised when I started writing these shorts, was that they were so much harder than Yaoi. I couldn’t just mash two (or three) people together and have them start shagging, because that’s not what its all about. So I spent a lot of time writing about the build up. But by the time I’d written the build up, I was well passed the 5k words I’d allowed myself. By that point I really should have been tying off the ends to make a neat bow on the head of the story.

After several attempts that ended this way, I realised something important… the anticipation of getting getting to that key moment is sometimes all you need. I say ‘sometimes’ because there are some stories that bloody well want a sex scene in them and readers might even feel cheated if you didn’t get it. But building the elements into the story; a subtle touch here, a shift in the eyes there… a chaste kiss on slightly parted lips… the journey of teasing fingertips over the planes of hard muscle, or the soft curves of a hip or thigh… those are the things that make it erotic. At least for me.

And I have to add that last bit because one girl’s cheesecake is another girl’s mushroom pizza if you catch my drift. Just because I like it, doesn’t mean everybody else feels the same way.

The reason this is all coming out now is because part of my Kindle spurge involved picking up loooooooooooooads of erotica (for free, like I said) as research. It was/is important to me to see what people are writing and selling (and if its successful or not), because if I do go ahead with the half baked plan I came up with during the Christmas holidays, I need to know what I’m up against (and I’m not saying anything more about that until I’ve worked out more details.).

Most of it is awful. Dear god awful, which leads me onto a whole new debate that I can practically see playing out on Twitter right now (‘what do you expect; picking up a bunch of free, self pubbed stuff?’ Utterly unfair, totally not true (self pubbed is not the same as small press is not the same as just re-releasing as ebook), but that is a debate that could well kick off from this).
HOWEVER…! Some of it is wonderful. I mean lovely; just the right mix of build up versus sex versus emotion versus people that makes it an absolute (shivering, spine-tingling) pleasure to read.

These two, stick out for me. I’m sure there will later be more, but for now… of the five erotic novellas I’ve read its only these two that didn’t make me want to scratch things with my fingernails.

book cover

Pricks and Pragmatism by J. L. Merrow; beautifully written, wonderfully believable and touching in a way that's awesome instead of puke inducing.

book cover

Gold Standard by Kyell Gold. Not even finished reading these yet and I'm hooked. Fantastic writing that feels 'real' ...somehow, even though its foxes, tigers and otters n stuff. o.O

They even manage to get the blend of ‘hard-dirty-talk’ and ‘gentle-sensual-talk’ (you know… lime versus lemon) perfectly spot on to suit my tastes.

I’m not even surprised that these two are gay erotica and the others are more mainstream heterosexual pieces; it seems to me, that going for a gay relationship gives people license to take more time over painting a picture of real people, rather than a couple who just constantly tip themselves into bed for no reason.

It was a tale about the relationship between a vampire (male) and a human (female) that tipped me over the edge actually.

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Then again… I guess its just a matter of opinion, eh?

MY GOD I HATE TELEVISION!


Hate TVThere’s no graceful way to say it, no way to deny it or soften it, or even calm myself down enough to think about it rationally.

I’m in the study. I’m typing. I was working on my NaNo until I heard, just on the edges of my senses, this slow, drawling South American accent banging on about simple life, working hard and core family values. Good stuff. Sensible stuff. Stuff I believe in, as a matter of fact.

But why, oh why, oh-good-grief-why (!) does it have to be on the back of some bullshit show called ‘Living With The Armish?’ No, you’re not getting links. No, I’m not telling you what its about (as if you couldn’t guess), but I just need to further point out that hearing this was on the back of getting off the phone to my father and having him tell me that he’s watching I’m A Celebrity Get Me Out Of Here.

-_-

Between that, freaking X Factor, Britain’s Got Talent and Strictly Come Dancing I have never, ever, as much as I do right this second, more resented having to pay for a bloody TV license. Its not like I watch the damn thing (except for The Simpsons, every weekday; 6pm), so why? Why do I have to pay for it?!

Well… actually… I don’t pay for it. Dave does. Its the one bill we don’t split in half for exactly this reason.

Lord, between the tripe they call entertainment and the farce that is Breaking Dawn (part one! *yawn*) hitting the cinema, it might be safer just to crawl into my computer screen and not come out again. At least there’s cool stuff there.

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