The Republic of Awesome

I’m writing from my brother’s EEE PC. I have to say I absolutely hate typing on it.

Perhaps it is the fact that I prefer to use the right SHIFT button, which on the EEE is a tiny button the size of Kate Moss’ right breast.

Or that I have a habit of resting my palms on the touch pad area, which doesn’t deactivate when the mouse is plugged in.

Or that my ginormous hands keep hitting the wrong keys on the miniscule keyboard, which is so small it must have been built by a secret society of hobbits bent on world domination but needing a keyboard to type out their nefarious plans.

Blah it doesn’t matter because my laptop’s finally back from the repair shop tomorrow, along with all my draft posts, work documents, useful applications and the such. You really don’t realise how much you need something until it is gone.

Anyway, since I’m in a ranty mood, what the heck is up with the Facebook quizzes?

The only people who’d do such rubbish are the completely bored or the purely asinine.

And when I say bored, I mean the kind of boredom where you’d want to take a pair of pliers and rip out your fingernails just to feel something other than the ever-present ennui.

Seriously, who the heck believes that a random 3-7 quiz questions written by a similarly bored Facebook user can have any bearing whatsoever into revealing even a smidgen of your personality?

If you do, then you have as much personality as a wooden board. There’s really nothing else I can say except ‘please nail yourself to the floor so you can be at least as useful as aforementioned board’.

Yet my Facebook front page is chock full of quiz results telling me my friend should date a guy named ‘Scotty’ or that black is their colour or they ought to wash their underwear more often.

Geez. If I could find a way to sell boredom or inane retardedness as a commodity, I’d be raking it in.