I am so jealous. I love History, but my memory is shot! I certainly would not consider your trait annoying: I would consider it a learning experience. 
Anyway, I hope you get the title or subtitle you deserve.
Dear Mr. or Ms. Myself,
Out of the many applications for positions in Heck, yours certainly stood out. Seldom have I seen such an impressive list of the mediocre, the mundane, and the moderately annoying.
I have therefore decided to offer you a position of the utmost importance. It has come to my attention that our small corner of the underworld lacks a chronicler, a Virgil, Dante, or Milton to record its secrets and bear them to the world of the living. Should you choose to accept the offer, I accordingly designate you the Dickens of Heck.
Your duties will include writing a series of novels with titles such as Modest Expectations, Not Particularly Easy Times, and The Middle-Aged Curiosity Shop. The story lines are up to you, but I was thinking some inspirational works about orphaned children, or at least children who don’t get very much attention, would be nice. They could overcome slight hardships, such as not having any milk with their cookies, rise to become men and women of modest means, live thoroughly undistinguished lives, expire without attracting much notice, and finally be darned to Heck for their peccadillos.
If this is acceptable to you, you may commence your Dickensian tasks immediately.
Sincerely,
F.P.
May I be the Hostess of Heck?
My Hostess Station is the home of the 20-25 minute wait. I will greet you with a glazed look in my eye as you shout out your name and the number of people in your party. I will frown slightly at the wax pencil seating chart, misspell your name on the coffee stained wait list,and hand you a pager with almost-dead batteries.
I’ll give you a dirty look if you try to sneak one of those chalky dinner mints.
I don’t mind if you take a menu, but don’t let your kid draw on the daily specials board with the broken crayons I keep with the “lil’ darnlings” menus behind my stand, or else.
Or else what, you ask? Or else I seat you in the “all cell phone section”, right next to the lady who is calling her hairdresser to tell her about her operation. In detail.
Oh and here in Heck, tableware is strictly self serve…grab your plastic-wrapped spork and napkin and follow me…
[sub]Oh, and did I mention I wear suspenders and buttons? Lots and lots and lots of buttons…[/sub]
Consider this an application, no a demand for the lesser demon position of thread-bumper and walking contradiction.
While I will not tolerate prolonged tail-staring without not-so-dire consequences, I really really won’t tolerate being ignored. Well I won’t like it but there’s not much I can do about it. So.
Look at me, dammit. LOOK AT ME!!! Darn you all to heck.
Say, what are *you looking at?
:flexing tail:
I also demand the positions of Refuter of previewing and Supreme vB Code Tormenter.
Say what are you looking at?
Other potential titles:
Paradise Missing For A While, But Turns Up Okay
The Beige Letter
Pilgrim’s Stagnation
Far From The Somewhat Annoying Crowd
The Grapes of Irritation
The Middle-Aged Man And The Largish Pond
Well, let’s see. One thing I particularly detest is people who go around thinking they are right, when they’re really wrong. When this happens, I don my cape and mask and turn into Guy-That-Has-To-Prove-You-Wrong-No-Matter-What Guy. And I’m relentless. Totally. It’ll be a week after and I’ll still be refuting your ingorant/narrow-minded comment.
This tends to tick some people off, but I don’t care! Can anyone else here truly say they savor the moment when someone says “Fine, you’re right and I’m wrong”? I know I do!
I’d suspect I’m going straight to Heck for that one. Do not pass Go, do not collect flame-retardent suit. No Get out of Heck free card. Although, I’d rather be there than that Hick place…Bad stories coming outta that side of the underworld…
Remember: Geez Saves
I have a cheap paperback Yoga instructional book, previously owned by John Grisham, signature on frontblankpage, as simple marking, before fame, that he donated to the Salvation Army in Oxford, MS. I bought it for a quarter. And I’d sell it to the highest bidder in a second. Surely that darns me to the seventh level of Heck.
My Lord, Fretful Porpentine
Attendance Monitor
Heck
I am reminded of Lou Gherig at Yankee Stadium:
Today, today, today;
I am the luckiest man, man, man;
in the world, world, world.
I think I can come up with a little something, give me the weekend…and we were talking high, three figures–one a redhead, right?
Myself
My, but it’s certainly tepid here. Nicely clammy, though.
My qualifications: I am certifiably bland and dratted. I’m a moderator who can’t even get dubbed with an imposingly dire name, much less get flamed in that other place. (The Pit, not the other other place.) In a group full of Avenging Goddesses, Nazis, Gnomes and Fascists I’m most commonly known as, “Who?”
Favorite movie: The Ache and The Elation.
Favorite rock group: Unfortunate Straits.
Favorite Shakespearean play: The Shower.
Favorite books: A Bit Aside From The Annoying Group, Wuthering Knoll, Peevishness and Prejudice.
Hobbies: warping sentence constructions, dusting my thimble collection and writing letters to the editors of Crosswords Today.
If granted asylum in Heck I would serve without distinction. I leave it up to you what I could best serve as. I had in mind something along the lines of a doorstop.
Veb
Ah, the minor discomforts of Heck:
The heat from the tepid pools of brimstone, made so annoying by the fact that the airconditioning can’t be set lower than eighty,
The place where you don’t have to wear a hairshirt, but you must wear that mildly annoying itchy sweater,
Where you are doomed to suffer for eternity from mild acne and a minor case of athletes foot…
I know I will be darned to Heck for this post.
…(poof) Freyr appears in Heck…
Hrm… so this is Hell? Well, I always thought I’d end up here, especially after all the things I’ve said and done!
Hey, what’s this!? Where’s the Lake of Fire? That’s just a huge bathtub filled with tepid water? Where at the cries of the damned? All I hear are people complaining about the fact there’s not enough light to read their magazines!
And who’s that fellow!? I was expecting Belezebub, not some middle aged, fat, balding guy running around in a red, one piece set of long underwear carrying a giant plastic spork!
Where’s the fire and brimstone? All I see is a giant space heater and scent of mildew.
(gets handed a book)…
What’s this? Okay, this explains it… Dante’s Divine Situation Comedy as produced by Norman Lear. Well, that explains it all!
I think I qualify to be darned to heck. My brain is full of amazingly useless stuff, which I will share with you unmercifully. I use correct grammar, even when it’s ridiculously formal and stiff to do so. I never put the new roll of TP on the holder. I can mentally keep track of 3-4 conversations going on around me at once and remember what I heard. I remember your birthday, even if you don’t want me to.
I don’t care what role you assign me, even if it’s just being one of the mildly annoyed souls in heck.
All of you scoffers think this is some big joke, don’t you? But it isn’t a joke!
HECK IS REAL! The lake of tepid bathwater is real!
The Bible calls Heck the place where “there shall be sighing and cracking of knuckles”…where “their gnat dieth not, and the humidy is 100%”.
It is place of BOREDOM…of INCONVENIENCE…it is a RAINY SUNDAY AFTERNOON, when all your favorite TV shows are showing repeats, and there’s no one to play board games with…
And it goes on FOR A CONSIDERABLE PERIOD OF TIME!!!
Heck is a place of excessive heat…AND IT’S NOT A DRY HEAT!
“The same shall drink of the wine cooler of the peevishness of Gosh, which is poured out over ice into the cup of his irritation; and he shall be pestered with humidity and mothballs in the presence of the oh-so-superior angels, and in the presence of the Sheep.”
You laugh now…but you won’t be laughing when you hear the grumbles of the darned!!! You won’t be laughing when you hear them kvetching about the humidity…when you hear the temporarily misplaced and pestered souls crying out for soda pop that isn’t flat, or a glass of water with ice, please…
…and there is no immediate prospect of escape!!!
Can you imagine:
*That pins and needles sensation in one of your feet…
It’s so dim you have to strain your eyes to read…(and the only thing to read are those old magazines from the barber shop or the doctor’s office!!!)
You have to eat Brussels sprouts…at every meal!!!
You have that annoying ringing in your ears…
No matter how many times you shift position, you can never quite get comfortable…
Your shirt sticks to your back, and there is a pebble in your shoe…
And it all goes on…*
…FOR A CONSIDERABLE PERIOD OF TIME?!?
The humidity…The dimness…The interminable whining…The annoying itches… The same tired, stale quips about the humidity, over and over again…
Heck is a place of irritation!
Think of who you will be shut up with in Heck: insurance salesmen, telemarketers, used-car dealers, message board trolls, morning drive-time DJ’s…there will be no immediate escape!
And it won’t just be you and the other misplaced souls!
Heck is a place of demons!
[sub]Well, imps, anyway.[/sub]
You will hear the endless yapping of the heckhounds… Nasty little imps will pester you with sporks… Luscious succubi and handsome incubi will jeer at you and refuse to go out with you!
Heck is no joke!
And you DON’T WANT TO GO THERE!
Gosh is rather fond of you. He doesn’t want you to go to Heck! He experienced considerable personal inconvenience so you wouldn’t have to go to Heck!
“For Gosh so liked the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believith in him should not be pestered, but have everlasting contentment.”
But you have to trust in Gosh and his only son, Jeepers Creepers!
“Dear Gosh, I accept that I have been naughty. I believe that Jeepers Creepers was considerably inconvenienced on my account. I am willing to try my best not to be a jerk. I want Jeepers Creepers to be my buddy, unless this causes me too much trouble or something. Thanks a bunch.”
in a flash of light brighter than a 15 watt bulb a gang of demons appear to send MEB straight to heck on a damp pole for that last post
Looking surprisingly like that cletus the dim witted redneck from another web site they shuffle clumsily toward MEB and thrust a worn crumpled coffee stained piece of paper under his nose.
Cleutus #1 spoke thusly "didnja see the boxes right there in the bottom of this heah papuh. You’uns sposed to check the box marked [yep] and put the date right thar whens you 'cepted Jeppers Creeper to be yor’n saviuh
Cletis # 2,3,&4 chimed in “yep he’uns right”
MEB replies" well, what if I don’t feel like signing it just now?"
Well this got the demons so perplexed that they just stood there grumbling and reckoning and scratching their heads and whispering “what’ll we do now?” until finally they decided that they would send MEB back out into the world to give a few more sermons until they could decide.
And friends many years have passed since that meeting took place and many more with pass again before they make up their minds. Until that time MEB is doomed to walk the world and warn its inhabitants of the dangers of heck–look I think that’s MEB coming right now.
The moral of the story is just because the demons are dumb it don’t mean they are stupid. So people repent now or this could be your fate.
So I’m the Wandering Secular Humanist now, am I?
You can call yourself whatever you want, but I notice your “Mark of the Beast” is missing from your last post.
Hmmmmm curious.
I can deliver drinks at exactly the wrong temperature. I can get the lunch orders mixed up. I can find the dry cleaners who will lose all your buttons and then claim the garment arrived without any. Pleeeese? I want a pitchspork sooo badly! (I can also whine.)
Well, you’re not really supposed to use your sig over and over again in the same thread, or so I’ve heard. The server starts to make grinding noises and spew smoke when you do, or something like that.
"They’ll take my Mark of the Beast when they ask me nicely for it."