Ves Ranting

[Usoki]

Am I the short Japanese lesbian? I think I'm the short Japanese lesbian.

It's certainly not wearable as a dress, given that you'd absolutely have to layer it... but if you wanted to be provocative, you could certainly make it work. Or if you wanted to scar people for life in Wal-Mart. Either or, really.

[End Master]

Okay, so I am really in need of some GURLFRENZ in my life!

Chubby (She sold her yellow dress for meth)



DEP (Redheads still have no souls)



Locke (Amelia's dead, here's a more updated version)



Usoki (Actually this is what Usoki really looks like)

[End Master]

And of course the best for last

End (You all fuckin' wish)

[Vesnic]

And of course the best for last

End (You all fuckin' wish)

Very nice, Endilita! I see the boob job really struck gold, and those hair extensions paid for by your 80-year-old boyfriend with the inverted thingy are soft and luscious! The only thing left now is your nose. We like our strippers in all colors, as long as they have the good sense to have absolutely Caucasian features, and that nose of yours is still dangerously Afro-Indian! Don't take it personally, gurlfrend, it's just honest advice from a fellow female who thinks you're TOTALLY HAWT.

Maybe too hot.

Maybe we can't be friends anymore. I only like the ones who make me look extra good in comparison. OMG, is that shallow?

[ChubbyTeletubby]

Well I'm out 250 bucks!!! That gay boy went to jail!!!!!! I got a text from one of his "people" saying he'll be out today and my 'stuff' is okay. It better fuckin be!!!!

These injustices we suffer, Ves - it's not just!! It has also come to my attention that Ves's neighbors are a bunch of bumbling bumblebees with no bacon!!!!! We need to go up there and break their bones!!!!!!!! I'm a baby boy with big barnacles!!!!!!

What? I had to get high somehow. You know, aerosal cans and household cleaners really come through in a pinch.

I need Ves to pinch my banana buns!!!!!!

End, how did you find that picture of my ex? I called her my "herpes girl". She could sure suck aglass dick. She was afraid of my dick though. She said it throbbed too much an d that there were too many polka dots. I'm like, "those aren't polka dots!!! Its full blown *_5s you dumb bitch!!!!!". Then I strangled her to death and kept her around for a week. She let me put my little dingo wherever I wanted then!!!!!!

Teehee. I'm a funny boy. Do you hate me, Ves? Yes? Well fuck you! So I'm not one of your cage fighters or farm boys. I've got a nice tan though!!!!!! And a strong liver. And I can do little jerky jerks and scratchy scratchties and I can punch windows! The windows don't break, but my hand does! Cause I'm a real whiskey boy with lots of whiskers. And I can shave my armpits!!!!!

So fuck you all.

That dress would look great.....on me. I make any dress look good.

Okay I'll stop.

Dd you know Ves dated a cage fighter? "Oooh, look at me! I'm Ves and I date cage fighters! Aren't I cool?" Ya. I'm like, "fuck you AND your cage boy!"

I dated a seventeen year old junkie who shot up meth! So THERE!!

[ChubbyTeletubby]

HAWT!!!!

Now SHE could suck a mean dingo!!!!! I called her my "boo".

Never landed a cage fighter, though. I'm just not cool enough, I guess.

Have any of you guys ever dated a cage fighter? No? Well I guess Ves wins the gold this round!!!

She is so cool. I wish I could be that cool. I've had sex with a cock fighter, does that count?

[End Master]

I don't feel like going back through this thread to see what the fuck was being discussed last time. I don't give a shit anyway because I'm pissed about something that needs to be addressed and this is my fucking thread.

I went to the doctor's recently and he tells me I shouldn't even be mobile, much less alive. 8 years ago today my life got all turned the fuck around remember? I told everyone that I'd come back as a lap dancing ghost and I know that got Drag all hot and bothered and he was probably secretly upset that it didn't happen, but I digress.

Anyway, these fucking doctors act like I should be fucking grateful for keeping me alive. No goddamn bedside manner at all. Just "Yeah, yeah, you're alive, pay me and don't come back until you're nearly dead again."

I swear I don't want to deal with this shit anymore. I don't want to deal with these people. I don't want to deal with this fucking world.

I would like to fuck all of these people. Not literally fuck, I just want to fuck them the way they fuck me. Making my life harder than it needs to be. They don't know all the pain I'm in. They don't know all the shit I've suffered. They'll never know the real me. They'll never appreciate me and all I have to offer in this world.

My only up side is I'll probably die young. When I do die hopefully my family members don't find me in an undignified position. That's assuming they'll even bother to look for me in the first place. And if they do bother, I can only hope they'll be intelligent enough to bury me, not fucking burn me. I've never liked fire.

I just want an end to all this shit one way or another. It's just getting harder to struggle through every fucking day.

Remember: Resuscitation is Violation

Apologies, but that's about all I remember. I know it was longer, but I'm drawing a blank. (Curse the failing memory due to increasing old age)

I suppose I could've made up something about how guys suck and maybe something vaguely feminist and how hard it is being a woman, but that wasn't really what you were going on about this time. It was more personal and directed towards everyone sucking rather than just the rapist patriarchy.

[Vesnic]

Wow, End, I am seriously impressed. That last line you got downright verbatim. You missed a poetic moment or two, for instance my incredibly profound philosophic musings on the meaning of interior vs. exterior beauty and beauty's relation to freakishness, and where I and others fall along that continuum. I also specified stuffing a cervical collar up someone's no-sunshine state and somehow St. Louis got involved, didn't it? Maybe that part wasn't so great anyway. It wasn't quite as whiny as all that either, with the whole "nobody understands me" bit (which, of course, they don't), but this was after all an impression, not a copy, and impressions are by nature caricatures. It could have used a bit more mischievous invention, but in terms of reproducing the original content, you really fucking nailed it, my friend. Congratulations. Maybe we could make an arrangement where you could be me more often so I could get a regular break from myself. You wouldn't even have to travel for it! Strictly freelance.

I know you'll all be relieved to know that my intense feelings of suicidality have somewhat dispersed today, seeing as I just got off the phone with my poor senile old grandma and that was, quite frankly and shockingly, fucking hilarious.

P.S. Fuck the rapist patriarchy.

[Vesnic]

Oh shit, they're shipping me back to the Fatherland.

[End Master]

But isn't that good news? I thought you liked it there.

[Vesnic]

Well yeah, I guess, I dunno, ambivalence and such, etc., etc., blah blah bloody blah.

[End Master]

Hey, that was a good rant!

I would have responded with my own dislike of Facebook and such, but I figure you sometimes just want to vent and don’t want the commentary from the walnut gallery. (I like to think we're at least a little different than just plain old peanuts around here)

Anyway, quick imitation...

Ves said:

Facebook sucks, my so called friends suck, people suck, the world sucks and all this suckiness is just making me feel further alienated from everyone and that sucks.

[Vesnic]

The Tyranny of Facebook 2.0

LOL I knew I wouldn't get away with it. Luckily for you and the walnut gallery, I happened to save that little rant because I sent it to someone else too, so here it is, lest End become my official paraphraser!

Of course this means that you now have to post your own rant too!

The Tyranny of Facebook

I never wanted a Facebook account, despite the fact that I could have been one of its earliest users, having attended an elite New England college concurrently with Mr. Fuckerberg.

I found, however, that my friendships did just fine without it. I was still an avid telephone talker and riding in cars with girls and boys kind of person. Facebook seemed extraneous. I was also starting to hear some pretty nauseating stories about all the grandstanding and aggrandizing going on. Most people don't require more encouragement in the ego department.

Then there was the summer I spent at the Kult. Suddenly it was obligatory. We did everything as a group. Yoga, manual labor, indoctrination, Facebook, praying to the Kosmic Kablooey, orgies, yoga, Facebook...it was a communal sort of thing. One just did it.

Then I reentered "normal" society and all the living ghosts from my past suddenly materialized. I found the effects of this alternately disconcerting, mildly amusing, extremely aggravating and protractedly pointless.

Then the next year, the sky fell on me and I started posting some honest if also painful reflections about the changes in my life. The sort of thing you would tell a trusted friend. These same trusted friends and even family members sent me a lot of PMs, ranging in tone from condescending to downright nasty, informing me it wasn't actually OK to put negative stuff on my wall or bum people out, even if I desperately needed some love and moral support, even if the things I said were also ideas and discussion starters, not just online tantrums. Apparently, my job on Facebook was to lie a lot and take thousands of selfies featuring every single one of my pearly whites in that hideous atavistic monster grin now contorting nearly every face on Earth.

More time passed. I had given up on genuine sharing, so I settled for a more lukewarm version of things. But I couldn't shake the uncomfortable feeling that I was cheapening and artificially simplifying people and relationships, most of whom I had once known personally and much, much more intimately. I also noticed that being on Facebook was making my current relationships feel stagnant and oddly disembodied, despite the fact that in many cases, I could have just driven two miles down the road and seen them in person.

I come from a very select generation, lasting only a few short years. We did most of our important growing up before the internet existed, or at least before it became the behemoth Frankenstein monolith it is now. We were the last kids the way kids had been for thousands of years. Our roots lie in the old world, in the piles of leaves we rolled around in when we played outside with our friends and filled our afternoons with incredible flights of fancy.

Before we had the chance to really mature, however, we all got swept away into unknown territory. For many people, this change was fantastic. For me, for the particulars of my life and the way I like to interact with people, it was a mixed blessing. Facebook, with its ever more surreal imposition of detached human interaction, is just about the bottom of the barrel as far as I'm concerned. So I choose not to be a part of it.

And therein lies the real problem. This is evidently not a valid choice to make. In fact, choice itself, the insistence upon having a choice, has become downright taboo.

What I said to the world was: "This silly application isn't for me". Their response: "You as a person aren't for us".

Now that seems a bit extreme, doesn't it?

I had no idea this single, seemingly inconsequential decision would so profoundly damage my social life. I haven't heard a single word from dozens of different people since the day I quit Facebook, for no other apparent reason than that sending a personal email or giving me a call is apparently unacceptably inconvenient.

I left Facebook around the time that people were no longer allowed to write descriptions in their own words, but had to turn everything into hyperlinks and groups and networks. I was not my own entity, but a bundle of connections to other connections.

It's just not my thing. If it's your thing, I think that's ok. But please don't punish me for choosing differently. Can't we work out something reasonable to suit everyone?

I have a vague recollection of something called meaningful choice. My decision not to participate in one tangential aspect of internet culture should not, I believe, result in my total exclusion from even the possibility of forming new friendships or just simple connections with the people who share my daily existence.

The lack of meaningful choice is appalling. I don't want to be prearranged, preordained, codified, classified and otherwise stripped of my individuality. Never have people whined more stridently about doing things "their" way, yet never have they had a poorer understanding of what "their" way truly is.

I went to get a coffee and there to my surprise were my new Rhineland friends, seated all in a row, looking a little uncomfortable and unwilling to meet my eyes. When I came back to join them with my croissant, they were gone. It was as if the single mind had spoken and some decree from an unknown location determined it would not be cost effective to wait for me to finish my snack too. If they're going to spurn me like that, I really wish they'd do so because I've done or said something thoughtless or unkind. Yet in their departure I didn't sense malice so much as inflexibility.

What is the purpose of "connectivity" if it denotes only a tiny fraction of the total range of interaction? Of the countless possible social ties, I have severed just one single, flimsy little link through which I could never make myself understood. I kept all the important connections, in conversation, where I often take the lead, in helping people to face their social anxieties by going to parties with them, inviting could-be friends to my house, offering a kind word to someone who's just embarrassed himself, and all this in the first week of our acquaintance. It's still far too early for them to have any genuine problems with something I've said or done.

It would seem I am officially "out of the loop", which is really a pity because there's lots I'd like to do within the loop and lots of people I wish were willing to give me a chance, Facebooklessness and all.

[End Master]

I currently don’t have too much to rant about, or rather nothing of major importance or even interesting.

Though I suppose I can post a story relating to Facebook.

Along with its predecessor MySpace (Which in the past we hilariously gave MRH a bunch of shit about since he kept bragging about having an account there like it was something really important) I just never saw the need to have a Facebook account.

My own reasons were simpler I suppose. If I wanted to speak with the few family members that I actually speak with, well I’d just call them up or talk to them in person. That seemed to work perfectly fine before.

As for friends, it shouldn’t be too surprising that I didn’t/don't have any. Lol.

Now this isn’t to say I didn’t/haven’t known quite a few people. Some of which I didn’t mind or otherwise found tolerable.

But in many of these instances, these were sort of people that I really wouldn’t have come into contact with on my own accord and were people that I encountered by circumstance (Through other people, school, work, etc). And true most people just meet purely by circumstance and develop lasting relationships, but really when it came down to it, I never really saw much in common with any of these folks. We didn’t have the same interests, we were just hanging out together for example because we were working on the same project, job, or something similar.

This ties into my own problem about the word “friend.” and that it gets thrown around WAY too often and too freely.

Just because people might get along and share a few laughs, they some how think that means friendship and it really doesn’t.

Being someone’s friend is an ongoing commitment (Not just a one or two time thing where someone helped move your stuff or something) and quite frankly I just haven’t really known any people like that and honestly I’m not even sure if I’d want the responsibility of being someone’s friend either since it’s a two way street and I’m aware of myself enough that I don’t like going out of my way to help people. Lol.

So that being established, if I don’t care enough to be your friend in real life, why on earth would I bother being your friend on Facebook?

I’d say by the time I found myself here on Infinite Story, the amount of my human interaction in real life was as minimal as I could make it.

Really, it wasn’t until Katie popped up that I got dragged back kicking and screaming back into the land of personal socialization again.

A few years later after that miraculous event, I finally got a Facebook account mainly because Katie had one (and hers is mainly for work and her super large family) before I knew it I was getting friended by all these people who I barely knew (again mostly Katie’s family, some of who weren’t even at the wedding)

Now I played along since I figured, “Okay, it doesn’t hurt to be polite once in awhile” so I accepted most of these friendships requests and I figured that would be the end of it since I rarely logged on to Facebook anyway. Unfortunately gaining a “friend” on Facebook isn’t the same as gaining a “friend” on Infinite Story. On here, you get a request and you most likely never interact with that person ever again.

The main problem was whenever I logged on to Facebook, I was getting a shitload of information from not just the people that friended me, but ALSO from the people who THEY are friends with and then the people THEY’RE friends with and a basically a whole bunch of unimportant shit from a whole bunch of people that I don’t even know or care to know. My page was just filled to the brim with a constant stream of shit.

Even my attempt to turn all this shit off didn’t seem to help, I was still getting a bunch of it, so ultimately I ended up deciding the problem was I had far too many friends on Facebook, so I started unfriending people. Not because I hated any of these folks, (I actually don't mind most of Katie’s family) but I just didn’t want to see any of this stuff on my page anymore.

About the only person I didn’t unfriend was Katie. (Oh and DEP, because hey Infinite Story 4 Life)

Shortly after that I just figured, “What the hell is the point of me using this thing again? I can just talk to Katie directly, I’d rather call my family on the phone (And they don't really use Facebook either), and the rest of these folks, well I’ll see them when I see them.”

Never went back to Facebook. Still don’t have any friends. Lol.

Now if we are also counting internet folks as part of the social circle, well I’d say you guys (And some over at CYS) are probably the closest thing I have to “friends.” And I’m perfectly happy speaking to you guys directly on the forums.

[Vesnic]

This ties into my own problem about the word “friend.” and that it gets thrown around WAY too often and too freely.

You'd fit right in with the Germans then. They usually don't fraternize with colleagues outside the bounds of whatever professional or scholastic ties they share. Personal acquaintances tend to be made more through preexisting friends (which does posit an interesting chicken-egg sort of quandary if you're new here) or through hobbies and other free-time activities. The word "friend" is used very exclusively, so exclusively in fact that it often implies more than what we would consider friendship. There's no word for boyfriend or girlfriend, just "friend" in either the masculine or feminine form. That can make things confusing sometimes in conversation. Saying "my friend" has an air of erotic possession about it. You're safer saying "a friend of mine" if you want to make things clear that this person is important to you, but not currently manacled to your four poster. Speaking of which, Germans are even touchy about their prepositions. Saying you're staying "bei" a friend means you're staying at his or her place as a guest. Saying you're "mit" that person means you're probably fucking them in leather bondage gear with a gag. I guess my own tastes fall somewhere between the Facebook and the Frankish, or they would if I had any friends (see above rant).

So that being established, if I don’t care enough to be your friend in real life, why on earth would I bother being your friend on Facebook?

Yep, beats shit out of me too.


[QUOTE=End Master;18603]Even my attempt to turn all this shit off didn’t seem to help, I was still getting a bunch of it, so ultimately I ended up deciding the problem was I had far too many friends on Facebook, so I started unfriending people.[/quote

Yeah I tried that too, as it was most definitely NOT what I had signed up for and it just made me physically sick to have to sift through so much festering horseshit every single day. I suppose my efforts at clarifying my reasons must have been pretty mediocre because some people got really offended. However, there's an important difference between you and me in that many people have always assumed that they basically owe me, my feelings, my choices, my outlooks, etc., while you've been blissfully indifferent to nearly everyone for your entire life. That means our respective departures from Facebook were taken in a very different light by other people.

After my disastrous trial downsizing, I had to make a huge mea culpa and refriend everyone. Then things fell apart and I just left the whole show. I thought for sure the people who I still conversed with on a regular basis would be cool with that and it wouldn't affect our friendship at all. I was wrong on nearly every count.

About the only person I didn’t unfriend was Katie. (Oh and DEP, because hey Infinite Story 4 Life)

Infinite-4-Life? I never got to a last-name basis with either of you! In fact, Katie was so adamant that I shouldn't know who you guys were that she even blanked out your names on the wedding invitations she had me look over. I guess there's still an outside chance I could be a fifty-year-old psycho stalker named Boris...

Now if we are also counting internet folks as part of the social circle, well I’d say you guys (And some over at CYS) are probably the closest thing I have to “friends.”

Well that's some consolation I guess, hypothetical quotation marks notwithstanding.