Sunday, June 28, 2009

More Ptero-Fun & How The Oaf Almost Managed To Screw It Up Again

Well, now I've got a decent skeleton in a decent pose. With any luck I'll be able to meet the deadline on this sucker. Pteranodon longiceps, folks, the pterodactyl for those of us weaned on pop culture.

I was so proud of managing to apply to Viable Paradise... I thought I'd done everything right, aside from sending my application in at darned near the last moment.

But come on. In a process as 'complicated' as this, there has got to be an opening through which I can strike at the heart of opportunity. In order to kill it fucking dead.

Now I don't have OCD, but I do tend that way. At least, that's what the shrink said. So when I started considering applying to VP, I started reading everything I could find online about it. Over and over again. Especially the application instructions.

Including these two sentences on the subject of the emailed portion of the submission.

"RTF format only. Not .doc, .txt, .wpd, or anything else."

I don't know about you, but me? I sense a certain lack of ambiguity to the above statement. Simple. Direct. Easy to understand.

Right? Right?

So why the fuck did I send the email portion of my submission as .txt files? I mean, what the fuck?

What the fuck?

I think I caught it in time. I re-sent the properly formatted files. I apologized. But god damn, people.

You ever see that original Star Trek episode where the crew of the Enterprise start mixing it up with versions of themselves from an alternate dimension where they all have hipster facial hair and a sincere commitment to evil?

This is the downside of being nuts. I have the evil goatee version of myself inside of me all the time, working patiently and tirelessly to screw my life up. Being a loser doesn't just happen. It takes fucking effort.

The missus and I were talking about my possibly seeking out more counseling the other day; fuck that. I don't need a shrink. I need a goddamned exorcist.

Hopefully that was my only real fuckup here. But honestly, when I say I'm my own worst enemy, it isn't a casual fucking statement. I am a crafty foe and a genuinely cruel and vindictive one.

But I'll tell you this much; if I ever get my hands on me I am kicking my fucking teeth so far down my throat I'll have a picket fence around my asshole. I have tried getting along with myself; you see how that's fucking worked out. So help me god, I will not rest until I have been made to pay for what I've done to me.

This is my vow.

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