How could I possibly out-do the events of this week? I became redundant a long time ago. Rob Malda gets anonymously bitchslapped by a World of Warcraft Administrator. He spends hours* writing a rant about how he totally understands, isn't angry, and then renames his character "Violated". Right.
When he says "the irony of the situation isn't lost on me", he's right. I'm sure the Atlantic Ocean isn't lost on him either. You just can't ignore something so vast, powerful, and... salty.
When Taco bitchslapped my public IP in his Apache config, I created an account named "Trolls" spelled backwards. We're pretty much the same guy. Except I can spell.
In the end, my job has been taken over by the pants of the Malda household, who has responded to Rob's second public posting since his wedding proposal by posting a couple pictures of her cleavage on the Internet with the caption "that'll show my husband, CmdrTaco, that he's not the ONLY one who knows how to assume fake ranks that they didn't earn!" and "Commander Cleavage(why am I posting this?!??)".
I almost got into an argument once with this lady at a gas station. I was talking on my cell phone, and she shut my pump down, turned on the PA, and told me my cell phone could kill everyone. The Eyes of The Gas Station were upon me. I went inside and mentioned that she was voicing a myth. Out poured a tirade of fiction about incinerated cell phone toting firebugs, and I felt it, you know, that old urge to refute stupidity.
But then I realized that being that stupid bitch at the gas station was its own punishment, and I kept driving.
Have fun playing Warcraft, Rob.
*Hours? Yes. There's not a single spelling mistake. He brooded over that shit.