#I am not sure if I should tag all the individual blobs

[rainystressed247]

It’s valentine where I am so have this silly succubus/incubus dream and his suitors(?) food (?)

(Courtesy to tumblr vote)

[goliath-de-senfina-sango]

Homo Ecto Sapiens

Chapter 2 Fandom: Danny Phantom Rating: General Audiences Relationships: Jack Fenton/Maddie Fenton, Danny Fenton & Jack Fenton & Maddie Fenton, Danny Fenton & Jazz Fenton, Danny Fenton & Tucker Foley & Sam Manson Characters: Danny Fenton, Jack Fenton, Maddie Fenton, Jazz Fenton, Sam Manson, Tucker Foley, Mr. Lancer (Danny Phantom), Dash Baxter, Lunch Lady (Danny Phantom), Dorathea "Dora" (Danny Phantom), Paulina Sanchez, Valerie Gray, Princess Dorothea, Princess Dora, Skulker (Danny Phantom) Additional Tags: Fix-It, Danny Fenton has ADHD, Multilingual Tucker, Trans Male Character, Multilingual Danny, Bisexual Danny Fenton, Bisexual Tucker Foley Summary:

Danny Fenton stood inside the dark tunnel of the only portal his parents couldn't get to work because he couldn't say no to a dare. He tripped on his way out. Now he has to deal with figuring out how to come out to his parents as being half ghost, while dealing with all the ghosts that come out of the portal.

Tucker and Sam stare at each other.  For a handful of moments, neither is entirely sure what they should do.  Sam is full of shock and anger and regret and terror.  She could've died.  Her best friends could have died.  How is a teenager even meant to process that?  She wants to curl up on the ground and hide from everything in that moment, will all the nasty reality that is Ghosts away.  But Tucker is bent over Danny, and Danny is out cold.  So she packs away the emotions, cools her shit, and bends down.  "You get his legs, I'll take his shoulders.  FentonWorks?"

They get him there.  Danny's parents are downstairs, working on something.  They get Danny on his bed, and Sam slumps against the door.  Tucker and Danny skipped over a detention essentially and all three have skipped school.  So Tucker goes down to erase the Fenton's voice mailbox and sends out a bug to his own.  Sam has no clue why he has that ready but asks if he can do it with her folks' line.  He asks for a few minutes. The silence passes, Tucker gets on Danny's laptop.  He always fled to the tech when he needed somewhere safe.  Eventually, he asks.  "You ok?  Today went to shit."

"No, I don't think I am.  Like, the worst I've got is some bruising that my make up can handle.  I need a shower, I guess."  They both know why she isn't actually ok.  Neither wants to bring it up.  So instead, Sam checks Danny's closet and finds something she'd left there a couple months back.  "I'm gonna do that actually.  Keep an eye on him?" Tucker grunted in acknowledgment.  That was the best she'd get so Sam grabbed a spare towel from the dresser and headed to the shower.

When Sam got back she looked over Tucker's shoulder.  Images of old ladies in familiar looking uniforms were all over the screen.  "Looking her up?"

"If we know more about her then we can talk it out with her right?"  Tucker's fingers paused over the keyboard.  He stretched, looking over at her.  "Right?"

"Probably.  Looking to work that Foley Charm on her?"  Sam elbowed him lightly in the ribs.  Tucker clutched his chest as though he'd been broken.  Thank gods for that smile on his face.  "Tell me you aren't planning to flirt with her.  Danny might get jealous."  Tucker snorted.

"I don't think Danny is into old ladies who occasionally burst into flames." Tucker went back to typing and clicking, screen light glaring off his lenses.  "So, my theory is that ghosts draw on ambient energy to sustain themselves.  When we went into that fight my phone was on like… 50 percent.  When we got here it was at 17.  So maybe we should carry batteries on us?"

"And our wrist rays."  Sam was never letting herself be helpless like that again.  "what've you got on her so far?"

"She said the menu hasn't changed in 50 years and she wasn't kidding.  So I'm looking back at people employed by Casper back when she was alive, and hoping I can recognize her facial structure."

"Impressive."  Sam sighed and looked over at Danny.

He zipped up his suit.  Sam made a face at him and pulled off the logo of his dad's face.  "You can't go around with this on your chest."  He agreed. If Danny ever met aliens of the extradimensional kind, he didn't want them to see his dad's face plastered on him.  Danny walked into the tunnel that was his parents' ghost portal, looking all around it.  The whispers of those other worlds called out in his head again.  As he walked deeper into the portal, Danny saw nothing wrong.  Not a nut or bolt out of place.  He got to the end. It was dark.  Too dark to see anything.  Turning back, he kept a hand on the wall to steady himself.  His foot hit a raised panel, and Danny leaned to the left for support. There was a click.

Danny opened his eyes and saw Sam looking down at him.  Not unusual.  The soreness in his muscles, however, was.  Danny stopped mid-stretch and winced.  "Oh. Right.  20-foot meat monster."  Tucker was at his desk, turned around in the chair and giving him that frown he had when Dash had slammed Danny into a locker.  "How long was I out for?"

"Four days."  Tucker reached under Danny's bed and lifted up a bag of Nasty Burger.

"Four Days?!"

"Nah, like, 2 hours dude."  Tuck chuckled and handed him a wrapped burger.  "You need this dude, that fight took a shit ton outta you."

“Don’t I know it.”  Danny unwrapped the burger and sank his teeth in.  He'd been hungrier than he thought.  It felt like a blink before the burger was gone.  "Thanks, dude, I really needed that.  We basically skipped lunch, didn't we?"  That thought had a horrible domino effect and Danny tore the burger wrapping in half.  "Fuck, my parents are gonna kill me!"

"I erased the voicemail from your box, mine, and Sam's.  Don't worry about that."

"Speaking of, how ya doin Sam?"  Danny turned, looking his friend over and wincing at the bruises on her arms.  “Fuck, the meat pile did that?”

“Yeah, turns out being grabbed up by a bunch of proceeded corpses can do some damage.”  Sam shrugged.  “It’s nothing I can’t fix with some concealer and sleeves.”

“It’s still warm though,” Danny said.  “You good baking yourself?”

“The heaters in the school barely work, and it’s nearly October, Danny.  Things have cooled down plenty.”  Sam frowned and looked over to Tucker.  “Do head injuries affect the perception of temperature?”

“I’m sure they can.  If only someone hadn’t summoned up a meat-obsessed lunch lady with a menu change.”  Tucker paused and raised a brow.  “Actually, how in the hell did you even get them to change it?  Nevermind the why.”

“The why, Tucker, is that schools need to promote healthier changes in the food we consume.”  Sam had that fire in her eyes.  Again.  Danny let out a long sigh, which went ignored by his bickering friends.

“And removing an entire food group from the menu was your solution?”

“It’s one we don’t even need Tucker!  Do you know how inefficient the transfer of calories from meat into our bodies is?”

“We need protein, Sam!  If there’s anything that the Lunch Lady said truthfully it’s that!  Look at Danny!  He barely gets any protein, you can see how that’s turned out for him.”

“My dude, I’m not the only skinny person here.”

“And whether or not we have meat and protein isn’t your decision to make for us all, Sam!”  Tucker glared balefully at the vegan and stood up from Danny’s chair.  “You had to be an individual and have all your individual needs met over what anyone else wanted, didn’t you?  No one but you even wanted this menu change and I’m going to fix it!”  Tucker stormed out of the room, leaving the door open.

“Oh like Hell you’re gonna undo all my hard work!”  Sam barged out as well, completely forgetting Danny as she slammed his door shut.  And Danny stared at that door for a moment before groaning into his pillow.

“This is going to be a whole thing, isn’t it?”  For several moments, Danny laid there and stared up at the constellations he’d put up on his ceiling in glow in the dark stickers.  His stomach reminded him of its existence, and Danny groaned again.  He still had some allowance left, so he went out and headed to the Nasty Burger.  Considering Tucker’s words and how much he’d done that day, Danny ordered a full meal.

After he’d eaten and walked it off on the way home, Danny let what had happened that day go through his mind.  Even as he fought off a small angry blob with his wrist ray, growling at it.  “Ghosts aren’t mindlessly violent beings. I know that.”  He needed to believe that.  “So, that means that she can be calmed, somehow.  She kept going on and on about the benefits of meat, and she died years ago…”  An email notification popped up on Danny’s computer, and he sighed.  “Right, homework assigned by Lancer.  What would I do without Tuck?”

The next day, Danny pulled on one of his darker shirts - a gift from Sam with some constellation’s accurately displayed - and some jeans.  His parents didn’t come up to join him and Jazz that morning, which was likely for the best.  Danny didn’t need their ghost radar pointing at him before he could figure out how to break their biases.  The second his cereal was finished, though, Danny pulled out his journal and attached pencil.  “No,” Danny snapped when he heard Jazz take a familiar breath.  “It’s not a diary, no you may not read it.  For the 11th time, Spazz.”  One weird benefit of super hearing - I can tell when she’s about to speak.  Everyone had different rhythms for when they spoke and when they were thinking etcetera.  Danny knew his sister’s patterns almost as well as Tucker and Sam’s.

Danny wrote into his journal a goal of recording his encounters with apparently sapient ghosts and how quickly he managed to pacify them.  If only he could think of how to pacify this one.

Once the hybrid got to school - later than he would’ve been had those damned blobs not been so interested in fucking with him - Danny groaned as he was dragged to the Vice Principal’s office.  There he found Tucker, who was glaring down at the desk in just the right angle to look like he was glaring directly ahead.  A trick he’d developed for gathering valuable passwords while tricking Lancer and other authorities into thinking he was just a semi-rebellious teen.  Danny couldn’t tell what Tucker could possibly be trying to gather from the desk now, but he may have just been scowling.  Tucker was complicated that way.

“Take a seat, Mr. Fenton.”  Danny obeyed and took his seat, looking steadfastly at the space just behind Lancer’s head.  “Tell me, gentlemen, how and why did you leave my office when both of you were already being punished for starting a food fight in the cafeteria?”  Before either could come up with an answer, Lancer slammed his hand down hard on the desk, and Danny flinched.  “What could possibly have possessed you two to skip school for the rest of the day?”

Danny squirmed a bit, while Tucker took even, obviously measured breaths.  He then looked up at Lancer directly.  “We were worried about Sam, sir.  She hadn’t answered any of her texts, and she always answers even when we’re fighting to make sure we know she’s safe.”  Not untrue, Sam wouldn’t have been able to answer a text if they tried that.  Danny nodded along to Tucker’s story.

“We left out the window to find her, which took forever since she had gone to find a way to help organize something for the school.”  Danny put on his most apologetic face.  “We’re truly sorry about ditching you, Mr. Lancer, but we had to make sure our friend was safe, you see.  We wanted to make sure none of the jocks or anyone had gone and done something horrible to her as revenge for getting the menu changed for a week.”

Lancer glared between the two of them for several seconds more, and Danny fought to keep himself still.  “Fine,” Lancer finally allowed.  “I will be following up with Ms. Manson to confirm all of this, but you won’t be receiving too harsh a punishment for looking out for your friend.  For endangering yourselves by leaving through the window, however, and for leaving without simply telling me, you will be serving both lunch detention and after-school detention.  Do you understand, boys?”

“Of course, Mr. Lancer.”  It amazed Danny, at times, that he and Tucker could speak in unison.  They were like twins.

“Dismissed.  You two best not be late to my class.”

On the way to class, Danny brought up his thoughts on trying to appease the Lunch Lady.  “Her name is Agatha,” Tuck said.  “Agatha Reece.  And maybe you could, I dunno, teach her about the health crisis in America?  Help me organize the school to reform the menu the right way?”

“You want it changed too now?  I thought you were gonna get it changed back early, or something?”

“Oh no, the food around here sucks either way.”  Tucker rolled his eyes.  “I just wish we had like, a better storage of better food in general.  I could recommend my uncle and aunt’s farm for fresh, nearby food products.”

“If only we knew how Sam had convinced the school to do this whole ‘vegie week’ thing.”  Danny shook his head.  “That’s what really doesn’t make sense to me.  We’ve only been in school for like, a month or so.  How the hell did Sam ‘wear them down’ so quickly?”

“No clue,” Tucker growled.  For a moment the hair on Danny’s nape stood on end at the sound.  “But, I’m going to make a petition, and head around the school getting signatures for a better permanent change decided on by the students.”

Danny patted Tucker’s shoulder and nodded somberly.  “Leave some printer paper for the rest of us at least?”

Tucker raised his nose, Danny now straining to hold in the laughter in front of the door.  “Sorry Danny, but a man on a mission has to go to all lengths to complete his quest.”

Danny bowed at the waist.  “Of course, Friar Tuck, how could I possibly forget?”

“You are forgiven, peasant Daniel.”  Tucker laughed and pulled Danny into the classroom.  Things would be alright.  Danny just needed to weather the storm and make sure both of his friends were still friends by the end of it.

It proved far more difficult a task done than said.  The three had most classes together, but Tucker was busily writing something down every few seconds in a second journal in his desk while he worked.  Tuck had the most fascinating form of ambidextrousness.  He barely paid any attention to Danny’s attempts to start a conversation and crumpled up any notes about Sam he slid over.

Similarly, Sam was ignoring him almost entirely.  She took her notes, but every time she caught him whispering to Tucker, she glared and went cold on Danny himself.  Am I not allowed to talk to both of my friends?

Lunch came around, Lancer had them eating in his room, and Danny had never been more grateful to Tucker’s mom than he had been when Tuck handed him an extra bagged lunch.  “Tuck, you are the best.”

“I know it, dude.”

“Gentlemen!  This is meant to be a time of quiet reflection upon your misdeeds.”  Lancer glared at them until the teens went to silently eating, and Lancer went back to whatever he was doing on his computer.  If Danny focused on the man’s headphones hard enough he could pick up the faint sound of… blasters?  Weird.

At the end of the day, however, while the two were meant to be heading to detention, Tucker was going around and asking groups of friends who were lingering about something and holding up a clipboard that Danny was almost certain he stole from his dad’s office.  Along with that pen.  Never was Danny ever earlier than Tucker to something, but apparently, detention was one of those things.  Sam, surprisingly, was also there.

“Lancer got you too?”  Danny asked as he swept a bit nearer to the goth

“I was gone all day.”  Sam shrugged, pushing the few remains of grass and mud into a pile and then grabbing a dustpan.  “Plus I wanted to help clean it up anyway.  We need this place to eat in after all.”

“Actually, I heard Jerry and Katelyn at least were eating on the theater stage.”  The two scooped everything up into a trash bag with the dustpan.  “They were inviting some other people to bring sandwiches and chips and stuff.”

“Oh wow,” Tucker called out from where Danny was very sure he shouldn’t have been able to hear them.  “No one wanted to eat garbage right from the ground?  I’m surprised, shocked even.”

“Had you actually been there to see, Tucker, there were plenty of people eating peacefully in the cafeteria today!”  Sam looked downright murderous and stomped off to clean away from Tucker.  Danny sighed a heavy sigh and shook his head.

The detention had gone on for an hour, but it’d felt like forever.  Danny watched both his friends march off in different directions and groaned.  Another friendless night for him.  After a trip to the Nasty Burger, Danny did a little walk around the city.  A few ghosts that he could see when the world lost focus skittered away from him, or ignored him entirely.  Some attacked, but his wrist ray had yet to run out of juice even though he forgot to charge it last night.  “Maybe something to do with my other self.  Gonna have to ask mom and dad about that.”  A shiver ran down Danny’s spine, a puff of mist coming out of his mouth and he looked around, letting his senses shift into that surreal state of his ghostly self.  He saw nothing out of the ordinary.  Relaxing, Danny sighed and headed home.

"Danny!"  His dad, Jack Fenton, only seemed to speak in exclamation marks. Danny wondered if he'd ever had an inside voice.  "C'mon, dinner's ready son!"

Danny raised a brow.  "Who cooked?" He'd eaten his Nasty Burger meal and was pretty sure he got all he needed.

"I did!"  On the other hand, more food that wasn't infected with ectoplasmic residue sounded nice.  Danny set down his bag and headed into the kitchen, where his dad had set out chicken, mashed potatoes, garlic bread, and spinach.  His mom and sister were already sitting and eating, and Danny gave them both a wave.

"Hi, Danny!  Juice is in the fridge.  Jazz reminded your father and I we need to refresh our minds with some air every now and then.  I thought, why not a family dinner?"  Mom shrugged as she picked up a chicken leg.  "Jack insisted on cooking."

"Mom," Jazz said in her best calming voice, "Dad never mutates the food."

While Mom and Jazz debated who had the bigger mishaps with ectoplasm - Danny felt the Christmas turkey and Dad dragging them into a world of blinding perpetual light ranked as the biggest mishaps period - Danny grabbed himself a plate and fruit punch.  Jazz clearly grabbed some groceries before telling their parents to surface.

Halfway through his meal, a thought struck Danny.  "Hey Dad, Mom?  How does ectoplasm interact with electricity in its rawest most natural form?  The ectoplasm not the electricity."

Jazz stared at him in betrayal, Why written in her expression.  His parents, however, jumped on the thought of their son having an interest in their work.  Danny had never seen his dad swallow food that fast.

"Ya see Danno, ectoplasm as it is when we retrieve it is naturally an energy thief.  In relation to electromagnetic radiation, it soaks in any and all of it from the area with the exclusion of green visible light.  That's why it feels so cold."

"If we can refine our engines properly we can utilize the flip side of  that natural state," his mom added, "We could revolutionize energy efficiency in technology around the world!"

"It can store up a lot of power, but once it hits it's maximum?"  Dad held his hands together then spread them out so fast he almost smacked Jazz and Danny.  "It all comes out in an intense burn!  Ectoplasm is either plasma hot or cold as space.  When it's cold, it'd drain the power out of everything around it."

Danny nodded, letting the info process for a couple of moments while he ate.  "So if, say, a ghost was to eat human food…?"

"Well," his mom twirled her fork around.  "It likely wouldn't, but if it did the ghost would soak up all the energy that could be gotten out of the material in the food, leaving nothing but ashes."

Danny nodded, curiosity satisfied, and steered the conversation elsewhere.  Once he was done clearing off his plate, Danny was struck with a realization.  It was the sort of thing that happened all the time, when a thought lingered in his head, waiting to present itself.  Usually, that was artistic inspiration.  Now he knew exactly how to calm down Agatha.  Up the stairs, he ran to his computer.

AO3

[swrx-rant]

FORUMS!

THEY ALMOST ALWAYS SUCK, AND THAT HAS LESS TO DO WITH THE USERS THAN THE FUCKING DEVS AND MODS.

SEARCH FUCKING SUCKS - I mean way worse than web-search in general. If you are looking for a specific topic, GOOD FUCKING LUCK. Your best bet is to use a suck-ass web-crawler/search like Google if you want to find anything on a god damned forum.

Searches NEVER USE CONTEXT... if I’m on the page for WINDOWS FUCKING 7, then why are results for versions XP, Vista, 8, and 10 appearing HIGHER in the list?

Searches rarely implement TAGS well, especially the ability to CROSS-REFERENCE TAGS. So, if I search the tags #Tomato #Soup #Recipe, I would actually get ALL AND ONLY recipe results for soups that use tomato, NOT EVERY FUCKING RECIPE ON YOU SITE PLUS EVERY PAGE THAT DISCUSSES SOUPS OR TOMATOES RETURNED IN RANDOM ORDER THAT PLACES THE FIRST RELEVANT MATCH SOMEWHERE ON PAGE FOURTEEN OF FIFTY-THOUSAND!

NAVIGATION FUCKING SUCKS - and this makes the shit-sucking search process all the more painful. Less than 1% of forums are designed with LOGICAL SUB-CATEGORY LEVEL AND RECURSIVE SUB-FORUMS that are applicable to the purpose/theme of the forum. If, for example, you are Microshit and you create a user forum (especially to build free crowd-based help as so many companies are doing rather than staffing call centers with trained and experienced individuals who are competent in the technologies they are assisting with as well as the language the customers are speaking...), then you are EXPECTED to create a Super-Forum and split it first by PRODUCT FAMILY, then split the products into Sub-Forums by PRODUCT MAJOR-VERSION (not fucking build number, jackasses! The same goes for fucking Patch Notes), and then, if you aren’t a total douche you will create an ALTERNATE DIMENSION OF SUBDIVISION, this time by ELEMENT or MAJOR FEATURES - which unless you are a fargin-idgit MUST INCLUDE: “INTERFACE/USER-EXPERIENCE”, “BUGS” (and this one subdivides by the NATURE OF THE BUG AS PERCEIVED BY USERS... these bugs are DISEASES, and like diseases they should be NAMED and CATEGORIZED by SYMPTOMS, but you can skip the Latin names like Mnemitis for an Inflammation of the Memory... which is a fair description of a MEMORY LEAK.), “PERFORMANCE”, “INSTALLATION/ACTIVATION/UPDATES”, “PRIMARY-FUNCTION”, and individually listed USEFUL FEATURES with the ability to add subtopics as necessary ad infinitum. (don’t take that to mean spam us with infinite numbers of adverts)

If you’re not already familiar, check out PHP.NET’s online function reference, its like a hybrid between an authoritarian-wiki and an open forum. Each entry is RELEVANT and EASY TO LOCATE, it has ESSENTIAL INFORMATION and CONCISE EXAMPLES, and allows anyone to give direct USER FEEDBACK//NOTES - I cannot stress the importance of this last part enough, LET PEOPLE TELL YOU WHAT THE FUCK THEY THINK ABOUT EACH FEATURE/ISSUE. You don’t have to automatically make them publicly visible, but you are dipshits if you ignore the extremely valuable resource/insight into your customer-base. Too damned many companies make it unbearably difficult for users to give them FEEDBACK, then they bitch when people switch to a smarter product from a company that actually gives a shit. (hey, that’s not a bad slogan... “we actually give a shit”... the word actually serves to chide the competition here... ;p Along the same vein as, “unlike some other Robin Hoods, I can speak with an English Accent.”)

THE MODERATORS FUCKING SUCK - I’m sorry, but you guys do. I understand that you’re mainly trying to keep an amorphous blob of bile and twigs from deteriorating into complete crap... but you are FAILING, and its not your fault... the game was rigged from the start, because they were SHIT from the moment they first went online. You guys suck at your jobs because the JOB SUCKS and that’s because the fucking RULES SUCK. Whomever the fuck came up with this shit needs to have a cheese grater ran along their eyelids for an hour each morning.

THE RULES FUCKING SUCK - so of course they turn the mods into assholes and other posters into fuckwads. There are so many issues here, but I will try to focus on the biggest tossers of all the ideas that went into these digital colostomy sacks:

NO NECROS - first of all, if you can bring the dead back to life you deserve a fucking medal, not to be given shit by peers and admins alike, and it’s not like I’m advocating Necro-Larry for President.. though he really wouldn’t be any more scandalous then what we’ve already had. But, more to the point, DO YOU ASSHOLES UNDERSTAND WHAT THE INTERNET FUCKING IS??? (and I’m not being existential here, we’ll leave the philosophical impacts for the future to reflect on). THERE IS NO PAST, THE INTERNET EXISTS IN THE ETERNAL NOW WE CALL THE PRESENT. That means NO MATTER HOW OLD THE POST IS, PEOPLE WILL STUMBLE ACROSS IT IN THE FUTURE. And it will be JUST AS RELEVANT THEN AS IT WAS WHEN CREATED! Especially since BUGS DON’T STAY DEAD, so why should decriers of old problems be told to shut the fuck up? That’s like saying, “Homelessness? We talked about that once in 1932, stop bringing it up already! It’s a dead issue!” (this is the kind of shit you get from people who want to IGNORE PROBLEMS instead of addressing them - FUCK THOSE PEOPLE, THE GENE POOL IS BETTER OFF WITHOUT THEM!) [wow, if you just read the bold that’s really dark... lol. I’m starting to sound like an industrialist.]

LOCKING THREADS - fucking stupid to begin with, especially in response to necromancy, but lets not forget their monumentally fucktarded cousin, the Self-Locking Thread - what kind of cold war cloak and dagger fantasizing bullshit is this? This thread will self-destruct in 5 seconds! I don’t care if its been 10 years, if the problem ain’t been fixed, then SHUT THE FUCK UP AND GET TO WORK, don’t cry about someone posting relevant information just because you’ve given up hope of ever fixing it... or assumed no one has noticed.

YOU MUST BE LOGGED IN TO POST - that’s kinda like saying you must suck my ass to breathe... it was a shitty idea when some fuckwad dreamed up that god awful movie, and it ain’t gettin any better. Now, I’m not suggesting anons should be treated the same, but ANYONE should be allowed to post FEEDBACK or SUGGESTIONS whether or not they have an account with your fucktarded forum. Google-Tourists have the right to be heard too! If I find your thread by accident (which lets face it, any result in a Google Search is pretty much an accident), and have something to contribute, I should be able to do so without jumping through 60 billion hoops. I don’t want to be a member, but when a Medical Doctor overhears someone giving Awful Medical Advice or finds someone that ISN’T GETTING THE HELP THEY NEED/ASKED FOR, it is their responsibility to become involved! The same goes for any other profession, I may not be “one of you”, but I know what the fuck I’m talking about so listen the fuck up and be grateful I give a shit (unlike many of you). [wow, that came across conceited... lmao]

REVERSE PAGE ORDER - you lazy, half-assed mother fucking programmers! Shame on you. It might seem like a good idea at the time, but this is one of the biggest blunders you can expound on the web. YOUR FUCKING PAGES MOVE, ¡CAVRONE! Do you understand this??? If a user BOOKMARKS A PAGE, they WON’T GET THE SAME PAGE when they reopen it a year later!!! What does it matter? Go back up and reread the bit about the web being TIMELESS... [take a Physics Lesson while you are at it, this is like asking what was before the Universe... there was no time (as we know it) before the universe, therefor there was nothing before it.] So, when I find your forum in a Floogol search and it links me to page 6 when the actual content it matched is now on page 147, I am understandably PISSED THE FUCK OFF... and the first thing I do is curse Larry and Serge, then I realize this one isn’t even their fault.

I’m sure there are a bunch more rules that are written by simpletons for assholes, but that’s enough for now.

TROLLS FUCKING SUCK - even when they not trying to be assholes, they fail miserably at common decency. I swear I am going to kill the next motherfucker who posts “why would you want to ____” as a reply, especially on a Tech Support Forum. It doesn’t even matter whether its my post, or something I stumbled across after 6 hours of screaming at Serge and Larry’s even less than unhelpful online information location apparatus.

MVPs are Worse than Trolls - how the fuck did these dickshits get the job of officially representing the company? They know less than shit about the product they are supporting, and most of the time they suggest installing questionable third party crapware to solve the problem. (Please don’t confuse “the Microsoft MVPs”, who are actually pretty cool and helpful, with the dumbasses that Microsoft calls MVPs on their fucking support forums... these guys barely speak English and haven’t written a line of code in their life!)

And despite an extra row of Microsoft bashing, this wasn’t targeted at their forums any more than Blizzards or any others... ALL FORUMS ARE SHIT!!!! 

But, hey, you knew all this already... so who the fuck am I even talking to here?