Why I am grumpy today

I’m in a horribly grumpy mood today.  I woke up this way and I don’t think it’s going to change until I wake up feeling different.  Of course, at least half of it is my fault, but that won’t stop me blaming it on someone else regardless.  Okay, here goes.  I blame:

1.  Barry the mould guy
He was supposed to come yesterday to check out the mould problem in my house.  I planned my week around it, I got up early, I tidied and cleaned, I waited… and then he cancelled.  Instead he turned up today without ringing as promised, to find me stumbling out of bed sleep-deprived and stark naked.  Damn bedsitter flat.  Yup, my grumpy mood is definitely Barry the mould guy’s fault. 

2.  My friend Dave
Yesterday Dave sent me a link to a 90’s-era "humour" website he’d created way before I knew him.  For some reason, he’d dredged the stinking thing up from an internet archive, and decided he wanted to relaunch it.  He wanted me to give advice… okay, he probably just wanted me to tell him it was hilariously entertaining and stroke his ego.  Ugh. 

Anyway, the "humour" in this thing rates on the harsh and abrasive scale somewhere between wire brushing and sandblasting.  It’s full of really vile bodily function references, and makes a number of entirely unwarranted hostile swipes at the elderly, women and even the small-statured.  The humour isn’t even mildly amusing.  It’s full of obscure and nonsensical references, and the page is full of the worst sort of webpage irritations – loud music and flashing animations. 

I assumed he is temporarily out of his right mind with grief over the recent death of one of his dogs.  That’s why I warned him – as gently as I could – that I thought relaunching this website could make him look bad.  I didn’t mention that I think he’s only doing it because a friend of his in our social network has just self-published a rather lame book of New Age parodies.  Dave loves to shout "me too". 

Anyway, he wrote back three separate replies, telling me that another friend liked it, and then explaining line by line why his material is funny.  (Hasn’t he ever heard that if you have to explain why it’s funny, it’s a sure sign it isn’t?)  His aim, he explains, is to slaughter  "sacred cows".  Dave, no cow deserves that kind of death, and anyway, I don’t want the blood splattered on me.  The material is so repulsive and full of hatred, it looks like it was written by someone I don’t want to know. 

He just doesn’t get it.  Those pages are so poisonously ghastly, I feel like I’ve been verbally assaulted just reading them.  He’s being a complete prick in that writing.  It’s only going to appeal to other pricks.  Humour is great for venting bile, but it doesn’t mean you should do it publically.  That sort of venting says a lot more about the writer than it does about his targets.  I think with a little analysis, he might be surprised to see what dirty laundry he’s decorating his public balcony with. 

Meanwhile, I am re-evaluating this friendship. 

*edit

Okay, so to be fair, part of my bad mood is due to the fact that I’m in a fair bit of pain.  While the mood probably contributes to the pain, it’s also likely due to the fact I stayed up till 3am watching Stargate Universe reruns, and then had to wake up earlier than usual.  But who cares about fair?  Why do I stay up watching TV dramas, you ask me?  I have no blinking idea.