I know, I know, I know… I should be working on Seven Keys 5. I’m very, very behind the deadline on that. I’m sorry. If it makes you feel any better, I’ve actually put some words into the books this weekend, and I think you’ll enjoy them. Well, I enjoy them, anyway.
So, if you’ve followed my blog for awhile, you probably know that I like to rant. No, that’s not a fare statement.
I fucking love to rant.
There are few things in this world I’m good at, and ranting is pretty high up on that list. In fact, that list probably goes a little something like:
1) Bullshitting my way through uncomfortable social situations
2) Arguing about trivial or inane topics
4) Pooping extra-stinky poops
My life skills are not particularly great.
If you’ve been around on the blog for a really, really long time, you know that my first ever blog post was about my love-hate relationship with Facebook.
Oh, Facebook, why can’t I quit you?
So, this one social media platform is simultaneously responsible for my biggest cyber-addiction and probably 80% of the rage in my life.
Seriously, I could probably write a full time blog focused only on the horrible, rant-inducing things on my Facebook Timeline.
Actually, I’m not sure I could keep up on my own. I would need an entire stable of writers to turn things like, “Did you see this bullshit [link]?” into an article. You know, to truly express my hatred of how ignorant this one social media platform has made us.
Mark Zuckerberg, you evil genius.
I try not to let that translate over into my life too often. In fact, I have a rule: I’m only allowed to post a ranting Facebook post once per month. That means I can rant on Facebook once or on my blog once, and then I have to shut the fuck up for at least 1 calendar month.
It’s a good rule, and I work hard to follow it.
This blog post, though, is me bending that rule a little. See, I’m not actually ranting about anything I saw on Facebook (I already did that earlier today on my personal Facebook timeline), I’m ranting about ranting about ranting about Facebook.
That’s okay, right?
No? I should just go back to work? I should just give you the next book already?
Yeah… I know. I’m sorry. I just needed to get all of this out before I exploded… or pooped… and we’ve already talked about the smell….
Until Next Time,