Oh, yeah: this too -

[WARNING: I AM A MEAN JERK IN THIS POST. MORE SO THAN NORMAL. IF YOU ARE EASILY OFFENDED BY MEAN JERKINESS, PLEASE STOP READING NOW. OTHERWISE, YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED, AND BY CONTINUING TO READ THIS POST, YOU AGREE THAT YOU WILL NOT POST ANNOYING WHINY COMMENTS TO MY BLOG ABOUT HOW I AM AN ASSHOLE AND HOW I SHOULD BURN IN HELL FOR WHATEVER REASON YOU MAY THINK I SHOULD BURN IN HELL. QUITE FRANKLY, THERE ARE NUMEROUS REASONS WHY I SHOULD BURN IN HELL; I ALREADY KNOW THIS. THAT SAID, THIS IS YOUR FINAL CHANCE TO BAIL OUT AND AVOID THE MEAN-OSCITY. OKAY? REALLY. DON'T GO ANY...FURTHER.]

Sooooooooooo -

I've been scrolling through my old comments and it really shocks me to run into people who are clearly morons, leaving hate-filled comments directed at me for expressing opinions about, are you ready for this: TELEVISION!

I mean, I say plenty of shit that I'm sure I could be hated for, and what do I get? Nada.

I say some bad things about Yvette Fielding, and it's like the freakin' D&D/Magick/StarTrek/GothSquad/Comic-Book-Guy population explodes out of their pimply shells, spitting more venom at me than an angry cobra... I deleted the first round, because it was written by some dumb cockney 12-year-old girl who spelled like Eliza Doolittle spoke ('aff a paond uf 'aypenny roice, Guvvnah!), but here's my latest piece of Nerd-Hate Mail, that I actually didn't delete:

"Hey you guys, Knock off the negative comments about Yvette Fielding! If you don't like the way she responds to fear, then turn the damned channel! It's as simple as that. There are a lot of us here in America who like Yvette and think that she makes the show. If you want to watch a show that does not have any emotion to it at all, watch "Ghost Hunters" on SciFi channel on Wednesday nights at nine. That show is flat, boring, full of pomposity, arrogance, and inter-office politics. Go watch that show, which seems to be more "up your alley" and take your petty, uncalled, negative comments with you! Stop acting like spoiled brats and either watch the show for its entertainment value, or turn it off but please, try to refrain from sounding like idiots!"

That was by M. Erickson. Bitch ain't got no blog. I had a T.A. once named Mike Erickson. He yelled at my friend Dan once in Journalism 559, "Dan, do you have something you'd like to share with the rest of the class?" "No." God, that was hilarious. Anyway...

So, basically it boils down to this: If there's anywhere I'm allowed to express my opinions, it's here. So any of you who want to voice your opinions about my opinions, knock yourselves out, but I could give two shits. If you're under 18, don't even bother. You know nothing of the world - hell, about anything for that matter. So really. Go back to playing My Little Pony or Pokemon, or masturbating furtively to Kelly Kapowski or Zack Morris. You have nothing of substance to say.

If you're over 18, you should know that I suffer from an extreme superiority complex, so unless you're able to back your opinions up with intelligence credentials (You have to have made something of yourself in this world, or at least be trying...and, no, Fry Cook at the KFC or Head Shampoo Girl at Supercuts ain't it...) and social credentials (You have to not look like a bridge troll, and I have to be able to go out drinking with you) basically, keep it to yourself, because I really, truly don't care what you have to say...

The rest of the people that read my blog, I like to consider intelligent and going-out worthy, and they probably don't care what you have to say, either.

With that said, here's my extrapolation of M. Erickson's message:

Greasy Jack-Osbourne-in-his-fatter-days-type-guy takes out his retainer, covered in drool.

"Hey you guyyyys," he whines while angrily squeezing a whitehead on the apple of his plump, cratered cheek, "Knock off the negative comments about Yveeeette Fieeelding!" He huffs and sulks, sticking out his pauchy belly, and exacerbating his sack-of-flour posture, giving the author of this extrapolation pause to consider how much he enjoys using hyphenation. M. Erickson's pauch-stance sets the stage for his upcoming embodiment of Captain-Master-Of-The-Obvious. "If you don't like the way she responds to fear, then turn the damned channel! It's as simple as that."

"Why, it's as simple as that," thinks the Author! "By Jove, why didn't I think of changing the channel?! And here, I've been suffering through hours of Most Haunted, agonizingly unaware of the fact that I could just change the channel! And what a good point Erickson raises! Changing the subject when we don't like something is a much healthier way of dealing with it than expressing opinions on it! Why, that's just what John Hancock and Thomas Jefferson did when they felt they were being oppressed by the British! They continued paying Tea Taxes and Stamp Taxes and focused on other topics, more enjoyable to them which also raised less dissent, such as contracting The Gout from overeating, and not bathing regularly."

M. Erickson waves a pudgy Lil'Smokey-finger at the Author, whose eyes travel down the pale, plump, freckled arm, and whose nose curls slightly upon noticing the large, damp yellowish sweat-stain in M. Erickson's armpit.

"There are a lot of us here in America who like Yvette and think that she makes the show. If you want to watch a show that does not have any emotion to it at all, watch "Ghost Hunters" on SciFi channel on Wednesday nights at nine," snivvels Erickson. The author's lip curls as he watches a fleck of spittle arc from Erickson's mouth.

The author feels a pang of sympathy for this poor creature who actually knows the time schedule for the Sci-Fi channel. This pang vanishes as Erickson continues his tirade, and the Author notices what can only be described as finely ground pepper suspended in the tartar separating Erickson's small teeth, from his red, swollen gums. He continues,

"That show is flat, boring, full of pomposity, arrogance, and inter-office politics. Go watch that show, which seems to be more "up your alley" and take your petty, uncalled, negative comments with you! Stop acting like spoiled brats and either watch the show for its entertainment value, or turn it off but please, try to refrain from sounding like idiots!"

But alas, by this point, the Author has lost interest in looking at the speaker or listening to his missive. Mid-sentence, he turns away from Erickson, to go attend to some more important errand with someone whose opinion he actually values. The author never sounds like an idiot...the author is actually very intelligent. And of course, the Author is a spoiled brat... But everyone knows that...that's why he's so endearing, with his privileged viewpoints and intolerance of the ugly and stupid...

And. Scene.

Really. What did Erickson person think he/she was going to gain from that comment? Would I recant my ways? Would I take his advice and stop watching certain shows? Would I be impressed that he brought up "office politics" in a post? I know he'd been itching to use that phrase since Britain's hit show "THE OFFICE" swept America like a bad case of Avian Flu.

Now, granted. I've used $175.00 worth of time writing about this comment I received, but I honestly don't want all you out there in TV Land to think that it's the content of the comment that bothers me. That kid's opinion means about as much to me as a hill o' beans. Bad beans, that I don't like... Lima beans.

It's more the audacity that some people have... It's like someone coming into my living room and loudly criticizing the choice of liquor I have on my shelves, and telling me that I'm wrong because I drink Sapphire instead of Fleischman's Gin. They could be loudly criticizing the fact that I don't recycle anymore, or the fact that I wear leather, or the fact that I support a Woman's right to Choose, that I'd rather pay slightly higher prices for gas, than drill in the Arctic, or the fact that I think it's perfectly acceptable for two men to marry each other, and the fact that I think accountability rests with the parents to filter out what their own children watch, instead of policing the rest of the world to make all decency standards those of the uptight Conservative Religious Zealot.

But what do I get flack for? Hating Yvette Fielding. And it's venomous flack, too. Self-righteous and accusatory.

Hey. Go fuck yourself. You're such an Yvette Fielding fan? Write a blog about how much you get off on hearing her squawk. But get out of my proverbial living room with your useless opinions on my taste. This is where I get to post mine. You don't like it? Tough. I don't like what you like, and I have every right not to like characters in television shows, and post my relatively useless opinion on the matter. And I also have every right to delete your retarded comments that I know you lovingly crafted for hours until it was Just. Right.

Newsflash: I also think Susan from Desperate Housewives, is a tactless dumbass with no sense of proper timing. Comments? Go 'head. Make my day.

First and Second.

First, I'd like to give a shoutout to all the phone calls I got about the Target post. People on both coasts told me how crappy their Targets are. Score one for the Beester.

I like that nickname. Please call me "The Beester" from now on.

Miamuh dodged another 'cane, thank god, and now I'm fixin' to get my shit together to go home for Thanksgiving! Skiz!

My house is a disaster, and I have no idea what to do with all the mail I've been getting...it's adult mail, the kind that you don't throw away, but I have no filing cabinet! Crap! I guess I'll just have to cave and buy one.

Along those same notes: I hate all the furniture in my house. Well, that's sort of a lie...but it's all very painful to go shopping and see things that are actually buyable, and think "No, I have to save my money because soon I have to buy a new car and pay back my seventy grand worth of college and law school debt." (Yes, I know, I'm one of the very fortunate ones that has below 100K worth of debt, but still 70K isn't that great either...)

But P.S. I've found a store: American Signature Home, way down Bird, I think. Yes, I think it's Bird Road and "the" 826, in the same shopping center as the Best Buy and the Huuuge Publix - anyway - that store is fucking amazing. They have some really cool stuff, and it's actually very affordable! I'm a sucker for glass, and they have it in spades. I want to replace my behemoth coffee table with something a bit more manageable, and get a stand for my beautiful HDTV, which is sitting sadly on the floor awaiting its own piece of furniture.

If I don't go out carousing much this weekend, maybe I'll save enough money to buy a new TV stand... a good one.

Which brings me to my next dilemma: do I start investing in real furniture? I have two Wassilly chairs, which are my pride and joy. I have a futon which is careening towards "Dumpsville." My dining room set is good, minimalist, and I think I can change the seatbacks when I get around to painting my house...

My bedroom is an Ode to Target Desks and Bed Bath & Beyond Stainless Steel Kitchen Shelves.
Really. It's horrible.

I want to start collecting some nice, solid Arts and Crafts pieces, either those, or some nice Mid-Century Modern pieces... not really sure where I'm going with decorating. Cold and minimalist or warm and Frank Lloyd Wrighty...

The bottom line, however, is if I start amassing furniture down here, it means that I'm really going to stay in Miami, which, is a terrifying thought!

I don't want to stay down here! But already I can't fathom how to leave, and I know that's just going to get worse the longer I stay!

I really have to just bite the goddamn bullet. I need to waive into D.C. and see if I can take MD this Summer, and NY next winter.

Because honestly? I really don't want to stay down here. And I'm really sick of always living far away from where most of my friends live.