WTF

I would like to begin by saying that there are far too many bad things in this world. Like politics and hubristic fantasy authors. But They are fortunately all made up for by the likes of the good folks at Cracked.

I've spent approximately the last ninety minutes reading their various lists. Some of these things are just fantastic. My personal favorite is Top Five Questions Season Two of Heroes Had Better F@#king Answer, followed closely by The Twelve Most Ridiculous Similes in Music History. There's also a good one about Apocalyptic predictions.

That said, there are a lot of things that still piss me off. Like this one stoplight in downtown Rolla. Let's put aside for the moment that nearly all of downtown Rolla pisses me off, especially since they keep digging trenches on Pine Street and lining them with stakes made from sharpened toothbrushes and nuclear weapons. This one stop light has the incredible ability to turn any given motorist into an utter moron. It sends out undetectable cosmic rays that turn the human brain into a sack of hair. In proximity to this stoplight, people forget that you have to yield on green when making a left turn, that you have to fucking go when the light turns green except in the above situation, and that even if you're doing differential equations with your right hand, if your left is holding a cellular phone and/or a cigarette whose ashes are dripping onto your bigass Dodge truck's exposed gas tank, you're going to look like an idiot. And I'm going to shout this change in your status to the top of my lungs while stewing in my impotent, Explorer-shrouded rage. A further cosmic joke is that the more or less constant destruction of Pine Street forces me to take a detour through this light at least twice a day.

Also, Windows Vista makes me want to bleed. But are they working to make it better? Of course not; they're already off developing the next act of software terrorism that will be cool for approximately eight seconds before its "security features" force me to drive my Labrador's rawhide bone through my left temple. All in the name of helping me to view my home page in the fonts I want from the public computer terminals that Microsoft continues to imagine are proliferating. Internet cafés were cool in 1999, in Poland, but not any more. Having an operating system that fucking works is apparently of tertiary concern to 1)making sure the idiots on YouTube can find their videos of William Sledd's fashion critiques NOW and 2)that the subtitles to those videos are delivered invariably in Wingdings.

But seriously, read some Cracked. A spoonfull of the ridiculous helps the harsh reality of our sick, sad world go down with the dull, aching burn of Sake, rather than salted orange juice poured into an open wound.