I will admit: There are times when it would be nice to have a Twitter account just so that I could fire off tiny missive missiles about things that annoy me (or, flip side, delight me, but that happens all too rarely these days).

And by “annoy” I mean: Really. Piss. Me. Off. Another sign of the times is that mere annoyance barely registers anymore. What with that evil orange toad illegally squatting in the Oblong Office, I live mostly in a state of constant rage.

So a brief angry pause from streaming video for some spleen venting…

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