Ranty MacRanterson

Boys, I know it's been ages since you've had tail to chase. I know it's been ages since you were lean enough to find ol' One-Eye to imagine chasing tail with, let alone see your feet or where you're aiming in the john.  Really.  [I know, I clean your house.]

I even acknowledge that we are, indeed, participating in a tabletop game that involves a great deal of imagination and fantasy/sci-fi settings.


But for the LOVE OF SMALL ENCEPHALITIC KITTENS, get your dick back in your pants and focus on the goddamned game. You didn't take the vice 'Lust', and you took the Virtue 'Temperance' (or whatever that one was) - so stop hitting on me (under cover of being) in-game. The one player that DID take 'lust' as his vice makes the off-color jokes with grace and humor, and doesn't push the point until no one can get a word in edgewise. (He's also, thankfully, asexual in RL.) Hint, maybe? We can't play if you can't stop talking about my character's savory pussy.  Really. Even the GM (insult to injury in this steaming pile of crap, he's my boyfriend and stuck listening to all this) has given up trying to run the scene until you've finished talking. I've just ignored you most of the evening - until you can figure out IC and OOC, I'm not going to even try playing. "Speak up!" my ass. I didn't open my mouth for your cock, so SHUT UP IT'S MY TURN, dammit. 


Fuck you all.


Oh, and when the GM hasn't finished the exposition yet and you change your backstory from chinese bulletproof monk to some variation on my (non-chinese, not wu-tang-clan, from another section of the planet if not the galaxy) character's brother without asking me what my character's backstory even is (let alone permission to even DO SO), it's just going to make me hate you more. Especially when the GM asks you if you cleared this with me, and you say 'yes' as I'm shaking my head 'no'. You're an ass.  And no, I didn't fight it after the first round of dirty looks because I don't want to deal with you acting butthurt from being cockblocked for the rest of the game. Bad enough you refuse to roleplay when things aren't going well for your character (since when did hitting on a bitchy, heavily-armed woman scream 'success at tapping that ass!' to you? Are you really that daft?), and insist on having some bizarre younger-sister setup all the goddamned time (keep your incestuous fantasies to yourself, plzkthanx).  And all of this? This is after you finally decide to get off WoW and come downstairs and MAYBE do the dishes with a great deal of whining. I seriously don't understand why we still put up with you at all. I really don't.

[ ETA: I think what's irritating me the most of all this isn't the blatant horny-bastard syndrome; that was a given when I started working there as the cleaning woman. It's that there is no way of rationally discussing this with the offending parties, because they will whine and pout and generally sulk because hey, I want to be treated like more than a piece of meat, and hey, it's MY character, so quit co-opting my backstory, assmunch; boo-hoo the girl said 'NO' and means it. But just like always, the OOC comments get  drafted into the IC situation, because no one takes turns, so it's a free-for-all of interaction and commentary. My first character? There's a reason she lasted 5 sessions. I now know that making a joke or drawing a cartoon is a BAD IDEA around this lot: anime-cutesy OOC comments are apparently how my character should be acting ICly. Fuckers. If I ever got around to RPing her, she'd have been a decent puppet, too. Overconfident is a fun flaw to play with. ]

*thud*

Goddamn, I'm tired.

And I think I have some vague form of sleep apnea - every time I try to sleep in my car at lunch, I feel ridiculously sluggish and oxygen-starved when I wake up after only 15-20 minutes. Never a problem at home, on my side. Freaky. o.o:




... I think tonight is going to be watching Phantom of the Opera at full volume (while making snarky m15m comments), drinking rasberry-vodka mixes. Yesh. Y'all are welcome to join, if you know the way - bring frou-frou booze. :D Or good soda for mixing.

Striptease!

As stupid as it sounds, the Carmen Electra line of striptease aerobics is rather amusing. And a workout, if you're a blob like me and don't actually work out, ever. And it's interesting, so I'm not just doing mindless reps of things until I could scream. I do wish the music was better - you can supposedly pick from techno, hip-hop, or rock, but they all sounded the same; I don't think my DVD player supports it, or I was on the wrong part of the DVD for it. Either way, my legs HURT, and oddly enough, my arms are kinda tender too, though the bulk of the routines were hip and thigh movements. Go fig.


Down side is, you're watching Carmen Electra. Kinda hard to feel fit and sexy when being stared down by a 32DD bronzed goddess of smut. (On the bright side, her backup trainers are less interesting, despite being similarly, ridiculously fit.)


I'll probably try and do this a few more times this week, and then I need to figure out exactly what to do when Mom's home; the only DVD player in the house is downstairs, and ... well, I'm not stripteasing for *her* - the dogs were an awkward enough audience, thankyouverymuch. o.O::