jateshi: (What the fuck)
You know, check the timestamps when people send you stuff. Seriously.

I'm sick and fucking tired of being chewed out or accused of something when, if you'd checked the timestamp of a message, you'd find out it went out -at- -the- -same- -time- as something else occurring. And if I kept it private instead of tacking a reply ON to something and making it public shouldn't that *also* be considered?

For fuck's sake.

If you're losing respect for me over it and you didn't see when I sent the message for fuck's sake, just check it. Merlin! Merlin, Hecate, and Menos.

This'll go down later but for fuck's SAKE.
jateshi: (This is a bad day hamster)
...and now for a pointless rant... (not addressed to anyone here on LJ - that I know of? - but instead pertaining to something on DA...)

JESUS FRICKIN' CHRIST! How stupid can you possibly be?! The club journal *lists* who people are exchanging with, and there's also this lovely list where it tells what they've requested be done for their trade. I already had to hold your hand to show you where you're supposed to have sent your request which, by the way, was not to me personally! Now I am having to hold your damn hand again because you're too damn stupid to read the club's bloody journal like you're supposed to be doing in the first place.

Am I pissed? Yes. Irrationally pissed? Probably. Do I care at all? At this point, and with how much fucking idiocy I've seen from you, not one bit. You, single-handedly, are the essential reason I hate taking requests from people on any sort of 'regular' basis. You are, essentially, the reason I hold exchanges, 'fests, and gift swaps in such low regard. You, single-handedly, are capable of confirming that there is something dreadfully wrong with the human species if you are unable or unwilling to comprehend something so *simple* as directions, but have a role in modern-day society.

I sit here, at my desk, and I wonder if I can bow out of the damn thing simply because I do not want to deal with you one more time. I don't hate you - I hold you in utter contempt.

Here endeth the first Ranty McRant-Pants.

July 2012

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