I’m guessing that would be Dejah Thoris?
I pit myself for…
[ol]
[li]Being such a pitiful poster that in order to get pitted, I have to do it myself.[/li][li]For putting off my minimal Christmas shopping until Christmas Eve (again)[/li][li]For sitting here on the SDMB instead of catching up on all of my projects.[/li][li]For not having any chocolate oranges or kittens for other posters to covet.[/li][li]For never visiting Marianas Deep, not even once, for even 20 minutes.[/li][/ol]
This thread is so full of self-pitty, it’s making me wanna chunder. 
Aaaaaanyway, I’ll bite:
I pit myself for STILL working at a job that was only meant to be temporary two years ago.
I pit myself for getting all excited over Christmas preparations when the sprogs are completely indifferent.
I pit myself for being sucked-in to the MEGA BONANZA HABERDASHERY SALE yesterday when I spent too many dollars on bedding and stuff, and THEN I went to my local shops this morning and found I could’ve gotten the shit for half of what I paid. :smack:
Oh, and especially for our northern hemisphere members, I pit myself for being a moron and getting a touch of sunburn yesterday. It really sucks to be on holidays over Christmas when the sun is shining brightly in the sky.
Thanks elucidator. Sometimes I think I’ve lived long enough and other times I think I’ve only lived half my life.
Sorta 50/50.
You’re on the right track. The story is for Dejah (and my) granddaughter, age 13.
[ul]
[li]I pit John Carter of Mars for making me wonder periodically how Bubba is doing. How is Bubba these days?[/li][li]I would like to take this time to again pit my sinuses. We received about 6 -10 inches of snow since yesterday and I have a constant headache. [/li][li]I pit myself for putting too much curry into my soup and eating too much of said soup. I could power a small city with what I am emitting here, folks.[/li][/ul]
Happy Almost Birthday, Annie! I wish you excellent health, buttloads of money and Brad Pitt delivering Pizza to your door!
Thanks Shirley, but I thought I made it clear: WAYNE BRADY.
Seriously. I pit myself for having called a few Dopers names. Ummm. Not ‘names’ exactly. I yelled and swore at them. 
My apologies. I’m a bitch.
The futher list of self-pitting would be tedious, so I’ll have you guessing. heh.
Funny you should ask: Bubba stopped by yesterday and delivered two quarts of honey, the annual rent he pays me for letting him put a couple hundred bee hives on my place. Bubba has made contact with yet another Nice Young Lady[sup]TM[/sup] in the Ukraine.
He sent her the money for an airplane ticket to America, but due to the revolution/civil war/election problems there, no-one is allowed to leave the country. :rolleyes:
He is, of course, being scammed again but to tell him so would be to invite physical violence. So I wished him good luck and I’m eating biscuits with honey even as we speak.
Finished the story too, about 5 am. My granddaughter had complained that the books she reads about teenagers “aren’t real.” “Write a real one for my Christmas present” she said.
When I asked her what sort of story she wanted, she said: “You know, something real. Love, sex, drugs, alcohol abuse, betrayal, violence, a makeup, more love, more sex and a happy ending.”
I told her I wasn’t going past PG-13 with the sex; she’d have to watch some daytime soaps on TV if she wanted graphic stuff. But I’m glad she likes to read. She has a 16 year-old cousin on the left coast that is functionally illiterate, mainly because instead or reading or studying this girl stays in the street until all hours, like I used to do at that age. I started to tell the 13 year-old to just call her cousin and ask her to tell what she did last weekend and there would be no need for a written story. But then I thought that might not be such a good idea after all. :eek:
Getting back into your own head of how it was in 8th grade and then moving the scenes into a modern setting can be a bitch. But now the story is completed except for running it by the censorship board, which is her grandma. While Grandma doesn’t share our enthusiasm for skating on the edge, she’s pretty much resigned herself to cutting us some serious slack. And now I’m babbling on, in sleep-deprived musings.
It’s 30 freakin’ degrees at eleven in the morning. Good day for a nap. 
I pit myself for posting in GD while drunk.
I pit myself for giving up all of my porn when I moved, thinking for some strange reason I wouldn’t want it.
I pit myself for staying in this small fucking shithole of a town for over 8 months even though I said I’d be in a big city again in 5.
Building on that, I pit myself for staying with my parents for too long, IN THEIR BASEMENT, WITH AN XBOX AND LOTS OF COMIC BOOKS.
And building on that, I pit my 4d20 for not giving me eough Charisma. If my role wasn’t so low, none of the above would apply.
I pit myself for posting in MPSIMS while sober.
I am,
The MeatBeast of the Pit!