Okay, I know I said I was going to curb the impotent bitching around here... but jeez does the universe love to kick me when I'm down, sometimes.
Nothing has gone right today.
Woke up at midnight (that's 0000 Saturday, or more than nineteen hours ago as I type this) and couldn't get back to sleep; so have been awake since.
Picked up Dragonauts: The Resonance DVD boxed-set earlier in the week. Finally finished it this morning. The on-box synopsis billed it as a pervy-romantic comedy anime with a bit of sci-fi action thrown in for good measure. This was totally and wholly misleading. It was an actioner with heavy philosophical meanderings and a bit of chaste romance thrown into the background for kicks. I think there were six kisses in the whole 24 episodes; no nudity, and no fan service beyond some bouncing. Wasn't a horrible series by any stretch (and the last, after-story, silly episode did make up several points for the whole thing), but I still feel lied to. Screw you, Gonzo.
Headed into town today so my Dad could pick up a carbine he'd been waiting on. On the rack sat a Marlin 1895SBL - a rifle I've been lusting after for a year now. Of course, it hits the rack when I'm flat fucking broke, and they won't bother ordering another for five years.
Dropped in for lunch at a little restaurant. They burned the food.
Accept the job to clean and inspect Dad's new carbine. Hey, $20 is $20, and my ass is still not steadily employed. Get it home, and stripped on my bench to begin cleaning. It was a police trade-in; patrol rifle. 9x19 Colt AR-15. Seems the officers in question decided to "thoroughly" clean it, and broke through the staking holding the carrier key bolts in. Lovely. The key is so loose it audibly rattles around on the carrier. Not enough material left to fully re-stake, of course. So I torqued the bolts down as best I could, and (carefully) use my trusty 8oz peen and a stout center-punch to attempt to force the old staking back into place. Yeah, I know. I'm not expecting it to hold, either. So now I get to go on a hunt for a new Colt carrier key (no idea if it's compatible with Rock River or Olympic keys - but knowing Colt I ain't a'bettin' on it) next week. Means I'll probably have to grab a MOAK tool, too; to get a proper mil-spec stake on them. Seriously... who the hell removes the carrier key? What's wrong with these morons? Rest of the carbine is filthy; and underneath the gunk the hammer is showing peening, and the bolt face is pitted. This thing has seen a lot more use than was stated. Why does no one ever listen to me? I'm certainly earning my $20 this time. Put a couple blobs of red nail polish onto the key bolts; which'll at least let me know positively if they move or not. Who knows, I might get lucky and the damned things actually hold. Not like it's a gas gun, after all.
Sit down at my PC, check the Nexus... and the tide of idiots has arisen anew. Post on the NCCS entry from someone who's apparently retarded; complaining about Herculine's recall items. You know, the ones that have worked perfectly in two games across over a hundred companions? Third or fourth time he's complained; has never done the courtesy of acknowledging our other replies. I do not hold out hope for this time.
Post to the RR Companions Vault (the good one for FO3) comments; wanting to know if the 20th Century Weapons plugin could be run without 20th Century Weapons. 'Cause it'd be cool to have the items, and FWE has most of the same ammo and items...
Someone be a pal and shoot your 'ol buddy Nos in the fucking head, will you?
Other poster has complained that there's a light fixture in the Overseer's office that's apparently not lined up right or something. Then asks if the mod is a WIP or done.
I'm sorry, I thought the "This update marks a final for the RR Companions Vault master. Barring the discovery of new bugs, it will not be updated again." declaration was fairly straightforward. Guess not.
Lunch's not sitting well, my teeth are bugging me, and I think I'm getting athlete's foot again. Thrice damned fungi. I really just want to go to bed and pretend to be dead for awhile... but I can't. Because if I do, I'll be up by midnight again. Two at the latest.
Some days, illicitly obtaining sedatives is so tempting. Not for suicide, mind you. Just a nice twelve hour coma; every day for about a week. Medically force my system into repeatable, practical sleeping patterns. Of course, knowing my system as I do; the drugs would work once and the other several hundred dollars worth would end up useless unless taken in dangerously high doses.