Ok so I’m having a clusterfuck of first world problems at the moment, as witnessed by yesterday’s post. Today? Crawling internet. It’s true when they say “you don’t know what you’ve got till it’s gone”… Fiber to the home? Gone. 4G gone. So I’m sitting here with ass backwards plain old fucked up 3G, which might as well be dial up for the speeds I’m getting! DIAL UP…. At least I don’t have the bloody annoying fax type noises to go with it, but the night is still young!
Now you might be thinking Mrs BmB is over dramatising how dire the situation or that I’m a computer nerd in disguise. Buzz! Wrong! I just hate waiting, for anything. For a cached web page to load? No! What the living fuck? My phone is about to become a projectile. If Apple wasn’t making me hold out till the 9th September, and let’s see if they really stick to that promise, I actually need my phone. So fucker internet gets the last laugh and I’m left gritting my teeth for basic pages such as Google to load. Fuck this shit! What ass backwards hotel doesn’t have wifi but has a grand piano? The trade off isn’t balancing out for me. Sure I can bang randomly on said piano and cause a huge mass assault on people ears within a 10 mile radius of me but what’s the fun in that of they can’t use their fucking phones to call the police to complain? I might even end up with complete strangers on the doorstep ready to give me a mouthful until the see the icy look of doom in my eyes. They really are soulless and I’m just waiting for the day they live up to their full potential and turn someone to stone. God I hope I’m in FBC offices that day!
So today there are no funny pictures, not little quippy memes to go with my blog. It’s just me, pure unadulterated me. Ugh, see that at least needs a warning label and I can’t fucking download one! It’s tapping away inside my brain. I have internet rage, no doubt about it. I never thought I’d say that, I usually scoff at Mr BmB when he whinges about internet speed, cause online gaming is so cool (sarcasm) but today I really really get it. That in itself makes me want to slit my wrists. Luckily the hotel has a complimentary mini bar… The mini part might need some work.
Which brings me to my next complaint, yeah I have a lot of those. What is it with “smart phones” and their bloody auto correct? Predictive text was gone before we could even exchange plesentaries, no no no, just NO! I can’t predict what’s coming next, my phone? Not a hope in hell!
I can assure you dear reader I have never once meant to type ducking, but every time I type fucking it comes up ducking. Every. Damn. Time. What the fuck would I be ducking and so frequently? The autocorrect has a mind of it’s own. It thinks it knows better than I do? I know what I want to type, please stop trying to dissuade me. It’s not going to happen, I know what I want to type, so please for the love of god stop trying to censor me. I’ll censor me. I don’t censor me. See how this works you dumb smart phone? I get the feeling this is the first step in computers trying to take over the world. They’ve already taken over our lives, so the world would be the next logical step right? Do computers do logic? Logistical companies fail at logistics, so I’m all screwed up on my understanding of what does what now. Or what doesn’t do what. As long as everything wants what I want things should be peachy, in theory. But then you need to add in the complication of the pleb asshat factor and you just know things are never going to go exactly to plan all the time. Or even to the contingency plan. I’m OCD so I generally have several of those. One should always pan out right. Ha! In a fools paradise. So I end up flying by the seat of my pants. Makes for some great stories but some epic highs in blood pressure and tantrums along the way. I’m spectacularly good at tantrums, not because I’m spoilt (maybe just a little) but because I really don’t give a flying fuck about causing a scene. Actually the bigger the scene the more likely I am to get my way. Jot that down reader, it’s a gem. He who throws down the best tantrum, especially in public, ALWAYS wins. The key is to stay icy calm, collected and be very precise with your threats and wording and be willing to follow through. Once you get that established, you will always win. Well unless you face someone who knows these rules and then it’s just for the fun of the sport. And winning. It’s always about winning… But that goes without saying. Doesn’t it?
So if this post actually makes it published. Then I’m winning, kind of because while I beat the backwards ass 3G internet, it still drove me to drink in the meantime. But it’s after 7pm, so that’s a given.