Seriously Smudge, you are a cat... and other rants

I started today in such a good mood. I finished the current (as it was) WIP, and sent it off to the lovely (sometimes lol) Doris to do her red-iting on, and had a long bath. With I might add a heat retaining mug full of coffee and a good book.

A great start, such a pity it didn't stay that way.

I was going to post these on Facebook, but decided people (if anyone follows me) didn't want all my rants cluttering up their news feed/inbox.

Therefore in no particular order.

Raven's Rants of the day—maybe I'd better add so far...

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Smudge, I love you but, you are a cat. I accept you and your sister hog the comfy chair, make me stand at the desk top, want let in and out ten times an hour or grab my seat if I get up. That you think the lap top is the evil infiltrator and needs killing/peeing on/coffee knocked all over it, and it has no business on my lap which is really yours. That therefore you are allowed to drool over the keyboard and snarl if I try to move you. That is what a cat does.

But really, truly, I have to draw the line somewhere. I do not share my chocolate...ever!  Okay?

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No I do not want to answer your survey, and why have you rung me yet again for the third time today (and five times within two hours yesterday), I've said no very politely...so far.

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I do not want to buy your magazine from you on my doorstep. (Or anywhere else) I do think you are very brave though, there are a lot of large dogs in the neighborhood

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Big Airway Company, please sort it out so one hand knows what the other is doing...I mean why after I've been ringing one line for 3 months on a regular basis are you now telling me I can't? Among other things. Kind regards, confused passenger. ps while you're at it can you simplify the way a customer navigates your site? The labyrinth would be easier, and probably a lot less scary, even with the Minotaur in residence.

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As a follow on to the above, but if the cap fits etc

Okay I may have left school when a computer was the size of a small house, and used punch cards. I may have dogged off (for you with dirty minds, in my day this was bunking off, skipping lessons) computer programming class, and not be totally au fait with all things techno...but  and it is a big but...I am not a moron, please do not treat me as such. You write a 50k+ erotic novel and get it published, and even then, you have no right to talk to me in that tone of voice. You are customer service... get it—service—to assist, benefit, be useful. It's not difficult; try it in front of a mirror. (Dear helpful lady who guided me patiently through the pitfalls of your customer web, this is no way directed at you. Without you this blog would have spontaneously combusted by now.)

Speak as you would like to be spoken to, and if that's the way you prefer... heaven help us all. Thank you

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Whoever invented the rule that comma splices are not okay for most of us but some people get away with them... I'm sending the cat to kill/pee on/knock coffee all over your lap tops. They are my friends, they will be devastated if I can't play with them.

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Dear Dust Bunnies, why do you keep having babies?

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Now look here Hurricane Sandy, your brother played havoc with DH trying to get home last time he went out your way for work. Please don't think because he did you have to. I'd rather like to see him soon. (DH not your brother—or you.) Otherwise it will be the scenario, of 'a strange man got into bed with me, and I thought ooohhhh, and realized it was DH, forgotten what he looks like!

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Argh and it's only lunch time

Have a good day.

Love Rx

Cats, do not eat the cho...damn too late!