During the blogging challenge, I covered many of the foibles and outright insanities that make up a sizable portion of the person that I am. Amongst those was a sort of lingering dread that expressing any sort of excitement about something before it becomes a reality will invariably jinx it in to non-existence. It seems that fate has once again reared it’s ugly head.

In a few previous posts I’d expressed some excitement about an upcoming project that I was quite looking forward to being a part of. Oh, I know, talking about it was pretty damn stupid…but I did it anyway, because I am a fucking idiot. There’s no more need to be nebulous about this…the project was a podcast. Several people on the Good Old Games site were going to start producing one on a regular basis. Cool.

The good news…the first one apparently appears on the scene sometime today. The bad news…I’m not in it.

Once again, I get myself all jacked up about something and it melts away. But this time, I don’t exactly blame fate for it. No gypsy lady bullshit this time around. No, this time things went down a very different path. See, I found out that I was no longer involved in this podcast two days ago…that was when one of the other guys tweeted about it being finished. That was the first I’d heard about it for 3 weeks. It was certainly the first I’d heard of not being in it any longer. Isn’t that nice?

Being a little confused, I asked him what was going on…

I see, you’re that fellow. Yeah we should’ve told you. Sorry, just an oversight, nothing personal. Discussing now.

Wow. Yeah, don’t take it personally that we apparently completely forgot that you exist…or that he apparently has forgotten who I am.

I still have no idea when exactly this took place. I had a conversation with this person 3 weeks ago, and everything seemed fine. I suspect that the decision to  remove me and swap in someone else was made before that point, hence the lack of any response when I asked when the Hell this happened. It would be a little difficult for this eunuch to avoid the glaring reality that he’s a spineless little cunt if he had to admit that he was just playing me along at that point.

So, couple the disappointment of being shunted aside with the shock of this sudden announcement, and mix in a hearty dose of anger…I don’t take well to being strung along…and you have my mood yesterday. But that apparently wasn’t enough. No, this collection of shit stains decided to jerk me around about jerking me around.

There are no particulars and there was no intention. We just decided to bring it back and happened to think of certain people

First off, this doesn’t remove the fact that to replace me you had to consciously fucking remove me in the first place…what, did you all suffer head injuries and memory loss as soon as the decision was made, and therefore plum forgot to fucking resemble something man-like for the minute it would have taken to type up a goddamn email?

Secondly, that second sentence is total bullshit. I got involved in this by following up on a forum post WHERE THEY WERE ASKING FOR RESPONSES FROM INTERESTED PEOPLE. If you had people in mind, WHY FUCKING DO THAT?!

And today, what do I see on the forum? These fucktards trolling for podcasters. Oh, but I thought you had your crew chosen, you lying fucking stain.

Shit like this pisses me off. The way I look at it, the only reason this dick wipe would throw out a pile of horse shit excuses like this is that he assumed I’d believe them. So on top of fucking acting like a waste of daddy’s choad, you’re also basically telling me that you think I’m a fucking moron. Oh, but don’t take it personally…

Don’t take it personally? How the fuck else am I supposed to take that? Fuck you. Fuck your whore mother. Fuck your snivelling cunt father. Fuck your life and every pathetic thing you do with it. Fuck your very existence. Choke to death on the next load of cum shot down your worthless throat for 5 bucks, you syphilitic sore. You’re a waste of human flesh. Rot. Burn. Scream. Suffer. And endure it all…take all the torment and continue on. Walk through Hell, and just keep going as you begin to char. Long after the skin has burned away. Long after whatever passes for a soul within you has melted. Long after everything has sloughed off to the ground. Trudge on and drink in some more, you less than nothing motherfuckers. Do nothing but ache and hunger. And let the pain of everyone worthless enough to let human shit like you infect their lives play out like a song of fucking sorrow. They deserve nothing better.

All of this could have been avoided if one of you could have borrowed a pair for long enough to let me know what was going on. But no, that would require tact, honesty and pride. Not surprising that a collection of empty vessels such as yourselves wasn’t even capable of that small act of maturity.

Oh hey, PLEASE don’t take any of that personally.

At this point, I feel the need to interject a bit of explanation. When I get presented with a situation like this…pissed off and frustrated and I’ll never know what really happened…I’ve realized through the years that I have 2 choices :

1. Vent it out of my system. It’s ugly, as you’ve seen, but it works. It gets the acid edge of it out so that I can get past it and use whatever residual anger there is to fuel something productive.

2. Let it sit there and fester. This involves me revisiting the situation again and again like some kind of ridiculous feedback loop of self torture. I’ll come up with scenarios ad nauseam, since I never will receive the explanation I need to close the loop.

Since #2 really sucks, I now go with #1. So put the phone down…I’m not REALLY a danger to myself and others.

The one good thing? I’m not exactly the only person who isn’t real positive (to say the least) about this group of fuckwits. We’re planning possibly putting our own little cabal together and cranking up our own brand of audio. And one good thing you can certainly say about being screwed around…it sure as fuck jump starts the motivation.