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So I just got finished writing a poem. Not the best ever written - I have no illusions - but not a bad one.

Having gone through the editting process and satisfied myself that it was about as good as it was likely to be I hit "postnews."

Feeling fairly good about myself I waited as the computers did their little electronic dance before the great leap and catch that tells me my scraps are awaiting validation. Yay.

"You must be logged in." I am told as I look at a screen that is largely blank save for that gentle admonition.

"I thought I was" I said to no one - except the rabbit who truly didn't seem to give a damn being as how it was involved in gnawing on a piece of mail at the time.

I had typed in my name and password, it showed my super-cool avatar and my name - seems pretty logged in to me.

Refresh

"You must be logged in."

Razzafrazzafrickinfrackin

Back button

"webpage has expired"

"Jumping Jesus on a crutch!" I exclaimed to the resident lapin who remained strangely apathetic.

Refresh

I was greeted by a hearty invitation to log-in. Now I'm one who welcomes invitations - if only for the pleasure of declining them - but this was a little too much. I launched into a torrent of verbiage so blue as to make Picasso weep and Six (the rabbit) move from chewing the mail to a chair sitting beside her food dish. It seems that my petty tribulations are beneath her notice.

The upshot of all of this is that I came here to write a poem - I write from the top of my head directly onto the site forgoing the medium of paper because... because... because I'm a fucking monkey that's why - and ended up writing a rant instead.

I know that I could have written in it Word and transferred it. I know that I could have copied it in case of computerized Alzheimers setting in but just because I know something doesn't mean I'll really do it. I mean seriously; the world runs on imperfection and incompetence and I'm normaly proud to contribute to it's progress but this time GAAHHH!!!!

The real kick in the ass about the whole thing is that the poem (which I will presently attempt to reconstruct) was about a poem I can't remember.



Comments

The following comments are for "Where I Rant About My Own Stupidity"
by CyanideEyes

What a rant!
And to be honest, that has happened to me a few times here on litdotorg; however, I am the safety guy . . . and the backup king! In 16 years of using computers for my work, I've only lost about 2 pages of stuff.

Not a bad average.

Even the stuff I lost due to time-outs on lit's pages weren't truly lost, because unless I'm writing a comment, I do my writing in Microsoft Word and then I transfer it to these pages.

But -- I'm am sorry for your loss, and this was an awesome rant! Feel free to rant about anything anytime. You do it so eloquently!

Ochani

( Posted by: OchaniLele [Member] On: June 12, 2009 )





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