Random Rants VI: See, this is why we can't have nice things!

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Not marginal compared to mine, I don't really have any problems. Marginal, period, and I was ROFL that you and silver seem to think High school is "hell." Now that is funny, if you can't see that, then...

I'm sure we were both being 100% serious. :rolleyes: Got any more reaches in you?
 
I rant that this thread has too much serious business going on right now. :sad:
 
I'm sure we were both being 100% serious. :rolleyes: Got any more reaches in you?

Constructive criticism: It doesnt' matter that you weren't being 100% serious, you still sounded like 100% vaginas. Learn from that.
 
Constructive criticism: It doesnt' matter that you weren't being 100% serious, you still sounded like 100% vaginas. Learn from that.

Irony at it's finest.

EDIT: Gogf, let the baby make up for something he doesn't have.
 
RANT: I'm on vacation which is nice, but when I'm on vacation I also have a tendancy to eat delicious steak every night. Which is also nice, but it's also making my blood hurt.
 
RANT: I'm on vacation which is nice, but when I'm on vacation I also have a tendancy to eat delicious steak every night. Which is also nice, but it's also making my blood hurt.

Why would you eat steak every night on vacation? try local foods!

rant: I havent been on a REAL (read: outside of Ontario/Montreal/Quebec City/Buffalo) in WAYYYYY too long. Like the last one was NYC a few YEARS ago.
 
Why would you eat steak every night on vacation? try local foods!

I have been eating steak at local steakhouses. :mischief: I'm in an unfriendly food destination for someone who doesn't do the seafood thing. It's the only landlubber choice most places besides hamburgers, but that's not much fun. Finely-cooked steak is a rare thing for me, so I don't mind really. I just know how unhelathy it all is.
 
Here is the thing about this thread: people come here with either serious problems (see downtown) or minor stuff and they just feel like letting off steam (see me and sunburn, or whatever). It doesn't do anyone any good to assume that someone posting here means they care very deeply about what they are complaining about, just that they want to say it.
 
Steak is awesome.
 
downtown just entered fiftychat then left fiftychat before we got a chance to talk in fiftychat.

:( :( :(
 
Stupid Rock Band Drumset is broken. Well, not TOTALLY broken, it's just the blue one that doesn't work, but it still sucks.

Oh well, at least the warranty is still valid, so I don't have to pay to get a new one. Still, it's taking a while. Hurry up, Electronic Arts!
 
you and silver seem to think High school is "hell."

High school wasn't hell. High school was fun. Possibly my best years.

No IB was hell. Literally:
The "International Baccalaureate" (IB), or, as it is known to some, "International . .. .. .. .. .. .. .. ." or the "I'm Better Program" is a graduating course for those students who enjoy an incredible amount of pain and torture before they kill themselves, who have also, in their previous lives, done horrible things, such as being a martyr, huffing kittens, participating in bear hunts, being a commie, being a member of G unit or having unprotected sex with animals. The IBO helps students build People of Mass Destruction, commonly called 'h'. This is something normal people seek to achieve, yet they loathe them at the same time.

The program consists of forcing the unsuspecting teenagers to partake in Satanic rituals known as Internal Assessments and Extended Essays in which they are violated with pitchforks and inseminated with Blue Whale ejaculate (straight from the tap baby!) It also contains so called "Oral commentaries" and "Oral presentations" which involve performing oral sex upon the teacher non-stop for half an hour without taking a breath. An alternate oral assignment exists in which the student delivers an oratory report on a subject according to rigorous IB standards, but a majority of students find oral sex to be less traumatizing and substantially easier to recuperate from. It is said that the only way to definitively complete such rituals with a high mark is to sell your little brother or sister's body to the Devil or to Frank Entis (a level 59 mage exiled from Jewtopia after he was caught molesting a young Adolf Hitler; later moved to Canada to live with his own kind.) Finally, after living off intravenous caffeine injections for years, the students are subjected to tortures known as the Final Exams, which they do not feel ready for due to several years' insomnia (due to the caffeine). The Italian writer Dante has called IB the 29th circle of hell. The IB dropout and purveyor of already completed homework, Jeremy Feldman, however, preferred to call IB merely the 10th level of hell. Fear not students who ignored inferno during your sophomore year at Desert Mountain High School, this is still the maximum level. However, IB coordinators chose to reject this notion as inappropriate for a public institution, and therefore T-Shirts were never made. This is not to say that they were never attempted, merely that the results were unsatisfactory.

Students who undergo IB experience a colorful spectrum of interesting (yet understandable) urges. The calm and reserved begin to acquire incredibly strong desires to intercept and burn all IB exam papers; the strong may wish to annihilate all IBO regional offices with a massive array of explosives; the truly violent convince religious fanatics to commit terrorist acts against all IB institutions (What? Did you honestly think that September 11th was about a couple of American bases in Saudi Arabia? What better base for IBO operations than the World Trade Center?)

Everything a student does for IB is confiscated, and The Organization receives all credit for your arduous work (I guess the Honor Code doesn't apply to aspiring authoritarian regimes.) If a student makes a discovery when completing the extended essay, write a computer system for a computing project, or do anything that could potentially change his/her life for the better, s/he can throw such aspirations out the window (or up the ass) as soon as s/he hands it in to The Organization. In short, when a student hands the research in, the copyrights get transferred to IB. They, not the hard-working student, now own the fruits of the student's labor. The irony is that the student is the one who pays school fees, examination fees and the other fees that IB needs to keep their minions content. Also, honor code. Seriously, what the . .. .. .. . ever happened to intellectual property rights?

http://uncyclopedia.org/wiki/IB

The horrors.
 
AICE is worse, and I survived. You'll be okay, I promise ;)
 
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