It Took Two Men and a Crowbar to Pry That Stool From Between My Buttocks
But that's what I get for eating forty pounds of turkey and a whole ham with all the fixings yesterday.
Although, to my credit, I did not eat even one pie. I know my limits, dammit.
Now on to a rant that has nothing to do with stools or flabulous giganticus buttocks:
I just read the most appalling post on a message board I visit, and though I had a lot to say to the person who wrote it, I kept my fingers to myself, because, well, my reply would've included words like "cheapo," "asshat," and "cheapo asshat." And, gee, as my tagline says, I am a kind women who is capable of thinking horrible thoughts. It's a good thing to know when to spew those horrible thoughts and risk hurting some clueless asshat's feelings and when to spew them on one's blog. Since the clueless asshat in this situation has a lot of back-patting friends (whereas I, unfortunately, do not), I decided to duck out on the fun of being crucified for pointing out said asshat's asshatedness and post here, my safe little obscure blog.
Okay, so asshat has a book available, some anthology for charity thing that Roc put out, and asshat is proud, as she should be, and decides to mass e-mail friends and family about her recent success. Fine. Thing is, asshat got her panties all in a bunch when her eighty-something nana e-mails back with a request for a signed copy of the book.
Yes, asshat was upset that Nana dared request a copy of her assahat granddaughter's first book.
And if that didn't make my insides turn like a screw, asshat's back-patting friends couldn't wait to jump in with their empathetic remarks. What's worse, they, including the board administrator, stomped on some poor soul who ventured to add his opinion that asshat was being petty, in so many words.
Not for nothing, but although I certainly don't offer information to every single family member and friend about every single upcoming publication, I did make a big deal about my Borderlands appearances, and I threw down a few dozen bucks in order to give copies to the following people: My best friend, my mother, my two grandmas.
Yep. I actually gave my nanas copies of the first bigtime book I ever appeared in, and I even inscribed them. Hang on a sec -- I think I may have even given my next door neighbor a copy of "From the Borderlands." Am I a loon or what?
Here's something that truly deserves disdain, asshat: In the past year or so, I have been contacted by complete strangers, some from overseas, who have requested signed copies of a couple of magazines I appeared in as well as Borderlands 5. They all stated that because the publications in question were no longer available/not for sale in their country/sold out/whatever, would I be willing to help them out, thank you.
My astute intuition tells me they wouldn't attempt this with Stephen King or Gary Braunbeck, but because I'm a lowly unknown, they feel comfortable asking me. Like I'm supposed to be flattered? I replied with a roundabout "ever hear of Shocklines/Amazon/Google/eBay? If not, please acquaint yourself with the Internet, and happy shopping. I'd be glad to sign your purchases, and you will, of course, pay postage both ways."
That, my cheapo friend, is something bunch-worthy. Now go give your nana a hug and tell her you're sorry for being such an asshat.