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Crazy writer exhibits raging opinion over anything, really

A few weeks ago, a friend of mine told me about a game she and her friends would play called “Don’t Get Me Started.”

In the game, you’re given a random topic and have to have the most passionate rant about whatever it is, no matter how you actually feel.

I’d play it with the friend I talked about earlier, but she’s too busy now with her job. What a loser, working to support herself.

This one time, a 13-year-old, undoubtedly a “cool kid,” told me having a job is lame. He then left, doing a sick ollie on his skateboard. I would never want a cool kid to think I was lame, so I quit my job then and there. If my friend wants to be deemed something as terrible as “lame,” that’s her loss.

Anyway, now that I have plenty of time on my hands, considering my unemployment and all, I figured I’d give the game a shot. I’ve yet to actually have an opportunity to play this game with a group, but when I was told about it, my first thought was “I would be amazing at that.”

My topics of discussion were gathered by walking around Laramie County Community College, disturbing and likely frightening random students walking the halls. I suddenly told them to “give me a random topic; anything at all.” Most of them suggested I talk about “get away from me, you weirdo,” but that had already been suggested several times, so I politely rejected.

Myspace: Look, it’s not that I’m upset with Myspace; this is just more of a disagreement with society as a whole. Oh, just because a new fancy site, Facebook, came along, everyone decides to push Myspace aside. I’ve stayed true to you, Myspace. I know you’re the best social media site available. When people ask if they can add me on Facebook, I quickly load up my Myspace profile on my phone, show it to them and shout “no!” About 95 percent of the time, I then walk away to the person laughing, asking if I “seriously still use Myspace.” Of course I do, I’m no deserter.

The correct way to hang toilet paper: I’ll start this out by saying if you hang toilet paper so that the end of the roll hangs under rather than over the roll, you’re a bad person — just awful. I’ve seen several restrooms, whether it’s someone’s home or a business building, where the end of the roll hangs from behind and beneath the entire roll. The people who decided this is a good idea are clearly masochists. They enjoy making their life slightly more difficult, and apparently like causing others a little bit of misery. I move to make hanging the roll in the “under” position a criminal offense. Who’s with me?

Pineapple on pizza: Recently, this topic has actually been a fairly heated debate. While I’m in a “ranty” mood, I figured I’d establish some ground rules on this: Pineapple doesn’t go on pizza. This is something only done by true savages. Even professional chef Gordon Ramsay once said on the late-night British talk show, The Nightly Show, “You don’t put f***ing pineapple on pizza.”

How could you put a sweet fruit on a greasy pizza? You simply can’t justifiably combine fruit with tomato sauce — it’s just inhumane.

Wait, tomato is a fruit, isn’t it?

Okay, on second thought…

Escalators: After a bit of research, I found the supposed name for those scary magic stairs found in airports and many shopping malls. I truly don’t understand why these devices were made. The simple non-moving stairs have worked just fine for centuries. At least with those, you never got the feeling that the stairs would eat you shoelace and violently suck you into the mechanism within.

The inventor of the escalator, Jesse W. Escalator, surely didn’t consider the fear these devices strike to men, women and children across the world — that heartless jerk.

What? No, I’m not scared of escalators. You’re crazy, I don’t know what you’re talking about.

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