Honing my rage

This is the only thing that made my morning bearable.

My union was downstairs for a couple of hours chanting their fool heads off about affordable healthcare, which is all well and good for about five minutes, and then my ears overload and I want to shover their placards up their asses, break their shiny little megaphone into itty bitty pieces and carve their slogans into their skin with the shards.

I escaped to lunch, and when I came back they were all gone, which was good for them in a not-risking-messy-disembowelment sort of way.

An in-depth look at my insides: The continuing saga of the TMI

( The continuing saga of the TMI (not for the needle-shy) )

Memeage

I didn't even need to take the quiz, as I, and just about everyone I know, could tell I'd be the Book/Language Snob. I have, however, updated the description for me. Because I'm like that.

You speak eloquently (mostly - I have odd vocabulary failures sometimes) and have seemingly read every sci-fi/fantasy book ever published. You are a fountain of endless (sometimes useless and usually unsolicited) knowledge, and never fail to impress at a party. (Well, I wouldn't go that far.)
What people love: You can answer almost any question people ask, (or if not, I do party tricks with the Internet and have it in five minutes.) and have thus been nicknamed JeevesHermione.
What people hate: You constantly correct their grammar, pronunciation and spelling and insult their paperbacksreading habits (or lack thereof).