Random directionless grumbling

Day 80. 41 pages, 17,209 words.

Decent write night last night[1], but not a great one for sleeping. Wump and Toop both decided to keep Mrs. Hatboy company so there was no room for me in bed when I got there, so I went to curl up on Wump’s bed for a few hours.

[1] Not much to show for it in the word count, but I’m satisfied – and also I did a huge pile of backups for the Great Rig Rejuvenation.

Had a morning of meetings, one of which I spent five minutes in before realising I was meant to be standing with a different group of people around a different sticky-note-covered whiteboard on the other side of the open office, and shuffling sheepishly over there. Everyone had a good laugh, which is something.

One more long meeting this afternoon, then home. With a stopover at Itis for what I predict will be an utterly fruitless attempt to get my money back for this shit:


Not this day, motherfucker.

Plan A was “a pair of earbuds for less than €30, decent noise cancellation, durability a plus.” Somehow the guy at the counter talked me into a €40 pair that are admittedly great from the earlobes down but seriously, I can’t hear a goddamn thing with them.

So it’s back to Plan A, and hopefully the store will let me get a refund or credit because they sold me a shit product under false pretences and it doesn’t damn well work as advertised. And if they don’t, well, I will be telling another stranger to go fuck themselves today, followed by never going back to another store[2] again, and taking my money elsewhere. Someone who wants them can have the earbuds, they’re practically unused (and have totally unused extra buds of different sizes) and may work OK in some other device.

[2] Citations: PostNord, Verkkokauppa.

But I will try not to be negative. Maybe these guys will be great. They seemed nice and professional and everything when I went there on Monday. I’m frustrated but am happy to continue giving them the benefit of the doubt.

Seriously though, “moisten”? Fuck that.

About Hatboy

I’m not often driven to introspection or reflection, but the question does come up sometimes. The big question. So big, there’s just no containing it within the puny boundaries of a single set of punctuationary bookends. Who are these mysterious and unsung heroes of obscurity and shadow? What is their origin story? Do they have a prequel trilogy? What are their secret identities? What are their public identities, for that matter? What are their powers? Their abilities? Their haunted pasts and troubled futures? Their modus operandi? Where do they live anyway, and when? What do they do for a living? Do they really have these fantastical adventures, or is it a dazzlingly intellectual and overwrought metaphor? Or is it perhaps a smug and post-modern sort of metaphor? Is it a plain stupid metaphor, hedged around with thick wads of plausible deniability, a soap bubble of illusory plot dependent upon readers who don’t dare question it for fear of looking foolish? A flight of fancy, having dozed off in front of the television during an episode of something suitably spaceship-oriented? Do they have a quest, a handler, a mission statement, a department-level development objective in five stages? I am Hatboy. https://hatboy.blog/2013/12/17/metalude-who-are-creepy-and-hatboy/
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1 Response to Random directionless grumbling

  1. stchucky says:

    And the unsatisfying but sort of okay conclusion: I turned up to the shop, they were nice, and demo effect. Earphones now work fine, as long as I max out the iPod volume.

    Good thing too, I’m pretty sure there was no way they were going to refund or exchange.

    So, these guys are alright. I just realised I didn’t give you the name of the shop anyway. And still haven’t.

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