I apologize about the delays, the holidays make blogging pretty much impossible.
As mentioned from yesterweek's blog, this is a continuation of the events that unfolded December 16th, 2009 forever now known as Halo Day.
Also as this is the last day of the year I wish everyone a Happy New Year. Remember, it's TWENTY-TEN. Don't mess that up.
Halo 2
December 16th, 2:29 p.m.
We are angry. We had realized the need for food earlier and had told ourselves as we got close to the end of the first Halo we would have the foresight to order pizza to be strategically delivered during our break between games. When fighting the Flood agendas and day planners are the first causalities.
December 16th, 2:31 p.m.
We have ordered Papa Johns. There was a Thursday special. This lifts are spirits as we crack into Halo 2. While the game was setting up, I discover a friend’s old clan name for the original Xbox Live. I need to confront him on this “Team SuckaNut” later. Didn’t realize he was into dudes.
I’m immediately disappointed because while playing the game in its co-op mode, you miss the first two opening cut scenes. Regardless, we are instantly mesmerized by the upgraded graphics. Brice still hasn’t caught on that Sergeant Johnson not only survived his murderous betrayal, but he also escaped the first Halo’s destruction. It’s like he isn’t even paying attention.
Rookie.
December 16th, 2:42 p.m.
I try and update Brice on the things to remember as far as differences go in Halo 2. I tell him he can carry TWO guns at one time to which he replies, “So do I have a third arm to throw grenades? I didn’t think so.” Smart ass.
December 16th, 2:44 p.m.
The first death goes to Brice. Ironically, it was friendly fire from an AI trooper voiced by David Cross. I always told him one day the Jews would get him.
December 16th, 2:57 p.m.
Brice starts complaining about the lack of the original pistol from the first Halo. He tells me it’s a “game changer,” and that he’d be kicking even more ass if Bungie hadn’t screwed it up. He instantly stops complaining when he discovers a shotgun and is thankful for its introduction in the first level. Out of consequence he becomes skeptical about whether or not the Flood will show up saying, “They left that gun because they’re HERE.”
December 16th, 3:03 p.m.
We have completed the first level of Halo 2. Brice strategized with a plan while facing the wrong door of the elevator. I took his mistake to slip out and kill everything while he complained about not being able to get in the room. By the time he turned around, it was all over.
During the cut scene, we noticed how much of a beefcake the Master Chief really is.
December 16th 3:13 p.m.
We have started the next level. Brice is standing conveniently in front of two doors that are about to explode outward with Hunters. I refrain from telling him because…. PIZZA IS HERE! The war for humanity is put on pause.
December 16th 3:27 p.m.
After gorging ourselves on celebratory pizza, we continue the fight. Even I have forgotten all about the Hunters…. Whoops.
December 16th 3:33 p.m.
I really want to take some of the shortcuts across the roofs of the buildings to shave down on time, but by the same token, I want Brice to “soak it in,” by soak I mean absorb all the bullets he’s taking from Covenant plasma rifles and perishing. War isn’t pretty.
December 16th 3:35 p.m.
Brice just traded his gimpy plasma pistol for a rocket launcher to some poor marine covering our six. Because you know, that’s fair. If Halo was real, I would never want to fight with this selfish bastard. I’ll say a prayer for the Marine later.
December 16th 3:45 p.m.
Brice bobs when he should have weaved landing himself in the middle of a gangbang of elites. I had a sniper and could have saved him, but sometimes life’s lessons are only learned through a respawn.
December 16th 3:52 p.m.
Brice has abandoned me and my warthog for a ghost as if I was some no-named dime store hooker. His excuse? “Dude, this thing has BOOSTY.”
Bitch.
December 16th, 4:12 p.m.
Brice learns the hard way that tanks in Halo 2 have a severe speed reduction. It’s like the tortoise and the hare as I blaze the way with my rocket warthog team. I can tell Brice is trying to take potshots at me with his cannon, but missing saying that he’s providing “covering fire.”
December 16th, 4:13 p.m.
I now discover why they give you a TANK at the beginning of the level. Waiting for Brice to catch up and looking the wrong way, two banshees, two ghosts and two Wraiths blitzkrieg me, killing my rocketeer instantly and eventually blowing my warthog to kingdom come. I survive, running around doing an intricate dance to not get blown up by the dual tanks. I could swear Brice stops to savor the moment. He finally struts in cleaning shop.
December 16th, 4:14 p.m.
Apparently Brice doesn’t like to remember the lessons he learns as he hands me my first death of the game yet again. With no vehicle, I decide to go tank surfing to hitch a ride. All was fine and dandy until we encounter three lonely grunts, I picked them off with my battle Rifle as Brice spun up his machine gun. He laced into me for several seconds before finally firing off the main cannon and blowing me up. I looked at him and he blankly stared back asking, “What? Did I do that?” He proceeds to tell me that I should have been ready for the consequences of surfing on his tank saying “no one rides for free.”
December 16th, 4:23 p.m.
Brice sees a ghost and ditches the strongest weapon in the game so he can go fast. I think he’s been watching too much Top Gun and Top Gun on the Ground (aka Days of Thunder). Brice is still caught up on doing Star Fox “boosty tricks” while me and some Marines fight the good fight. As I finish the level, he gets angry with me stating, “I was about to land that.” I question whether his heart is in it to finish this fight.
December 16th, 4:31 p.m.
We finally take down the Scarab only to see Brice die three times within three seconds in the last precious seconds the exact same way. He went to go give a tap-tap to a grunt when he got sworded from the side. As I backtracked, he got spawned back in… right in front of the same elite with the same result. Peeved he threw the controller down only to come back and let the Elite get sloppy thirds. Brice translates the event as something similar to what Hungarian sex slave’s experience. I don’t follow.
December 16th, 4:42 p.m.
We had to take a slight intermission to pick up Taylor. Neither of us was happy to take a break as we just see the internal clock in our heads wind down. When we get back, it’s straight to business.
December 16th, 4:55 p.m.
We’ve started the Arbiter levels. While the cloaking is a fun little tool, Brice and I decided to leave the cloak and dagger stuff to the pansies and go “balls deep.” We alleviate our recent frustrations by swording many, many grunts.
December 16th, 4:59 p.m.
I’ve come to realize that Brice has a serious medical condition in toggling switches and going through doors. Just like in the first level of the game, he is stuck waiting for an elevator while I fight for my life on the floor below. Personally, I think he’s playing aloof and seeing if I can survive… yet again. Only after I clear the room, does the elevator come back up for him. Convenient.
December 16th, 5:13 p.m.
Brice and I get our first encounter with the Flood. Seeing how we just came off a losing battle with them in the first game, we are both dreading this like the scheduling our first prostate exam. As we fight, I notice Brice begins complaining a lot more than usual. I just hope we can barrel through this and move on because Brice tends to bitch in a high pitched voice that doesn’t let me concentrate.
December 16th, 5:17 p.m.
We finally get to fly the new Banshees. The first few minutes, we don’t even bother fighting instead doing “flips and shit.” For the rest of each game it should be pointed out that we hummed Kenny Loggins "Highway to the Danger Zone," sometimes only in our heads. Finally, realizing we have to get back to business, we go bust some chops.
December 16th, 5:21 p.m.
Probably my favorite death of Brice’s the entire game. After cutting all the cords holding the floating station away, the structure begins to free fall. Unfortunately for Brice, he is caught jumping at this precise moment and can’t catch up with the similar falling station resulting in a player death that leaves him dumbfounded and me cracking up. Sorry B.
December 16th, 5:25 p.m.
Taylor has become antsy being unable to participate in the bloodfest kill-a-thon (NOTE: consult Webster’s to have this awesome word added to their pages). To appease him, we take a break to play Kung Fu Chaos on his original Xbox. I can’t tell you how much fun this game is and is right up there with Pac-Man and Galaga. I took extra joy in knowing that Brice became visibly frustrated at the fact that Taylor was legitimately whooping his butt due to him not knowing the control scheme.
December 16th, 5:37 p.m.
Taylor has found some shiny object or a jawbreaker or something to distract him. We storm the gates of the next level, Delta Halo. The mission starts non-chalantly as we ride a burning trail of fire and destruction to the ground to whoop on some grunts. Brice is going toe to toe while I snipe from a far.
December 16th, 5:42 p.m.
Once again Brice shows his disregard for the fellow man after he takes the very rocket launcher I give to our passenger in “shotgun.” I stop the Warthog and look at him until he realizes the error of his ways. I took joy in hearing the ODST unit tell Brice he was going to do a lot more damage with it in his hands. Well done computer.
December 16th, 5:45 p.m.
Apparently, the when circling a structure being bombarded by Wraith tanks, it is a wise idea to remember that just because they can’t hit you, doesn’t mean you can’t race around back into the original blast. Instead of dying via tank round, I drive us off a cliff. I stand by my decision.
December 16th, 5:48 p.m.
Dumbfounded at my recent choice, Brice proceeds to chastise me about “stepping it up.” The ensuing ribbing stalls us at the respawn in time for the same Wraith tank to triangulate on us and open up. I try to swerve around it, but it hits close enough to carry my momentum back off a different cliff. Strike two.
December 16th, 5:52 p.m.
Brice and I are ducking behind the wreckage of the warthog after our OWN pelican dropped a weapon pod directly on it. It looks like in the future, they still haven’t solved that friendly fire problem that wars seem to carry.
December 16th, 5:58 p.m.
After wrecking shop, I discover that while I can board ghosts, destroy entire planets and pretty much kick anything’s ass, I’m a little clumsy when it comes to small gaps. Assuming I could just walk through it, I plummet to my death alerting Brice that he does indeed need to “jump.” Luckily I spawn in time, to pick up a sniper rifle and pick off the four Elite Honor Guard that run a gang rape on Brice as he tried to lead the way.
December 16th 6:03 p.m.
We dispatch some hunters and end up on a hovering tram kind of thing. Brice takes notice of this boat of the future and we begin singing “I’m on a boat,” for the remainder of the level. That tune is catchy.
December 16th, 6:05 p.m.
In the middle of our joyous maritime jubilee, I pick up a rocket launcher and rediscover the Halo 2 Lock-on ability. After firing off a few rockets prematurely, I begin to play with my prey letting them know that all the Star Fox maneuvers in the world can’t save them. I’m glad they took this out by the next game. It was almost too easy.
December 16th, 6:15 p.m.
We get aboard the underwater Wonkavator. I’m tempted to hum “We all live in a Yellow Submarine,” but Brice turns on his flashlight and reloads his shotgun and I decide to pass.
December 16th, 6:25 p.m.
We enter the prophet’s chambers to wear Brice gets a blast of Prophet attack in the face. Not yet dead, I cowboy up and proceed to go roper doper on his face deliver the “bunches of punches” technique. Brice’s final words for the level are the following, “Dude, you just punched him in his god damn throat.”
December 16th, 6:26 p.m.
Brice gets furious over seeing the Master Chief jump into the water stating that he has tried to swim numerous times so far and it’s a failure every time. I note that he’s not really swimming as he is more sinking with style. This doesn’t console him. I think he just misses his beach from the original Halo.
December 16th, 6:31 p.m.
Brice and I come to a very scary moment of clarity. We are now fighting flood, killer super-sized sentinels and we don’t have any shotguns. We’re not amused. I think I actually heard Brice whimper.
December 16th, 6:39 p.m.
Maybe it’s the panic the Flood stirs, or maybe it’s Brice not being use to playing as the Arbiter, but he forgets to use his cloak. A LOT. I barrel through, sneaking past places I don’t want to be while he’s left behind. We could really use Halo’s teleporter check point system to let him keep up. He’s fighting a losing battle and I’m breezing through it.
December 16th, 6:45 p.m.
Rule #3 about the Flood is the following: If you MUST engage the Flood go for the one with the most powerful weapon first. i.e. don’t kill the plasma pistol Flood if the one next to him has a shotgun. The results vary in ways of suckiness.
This is to be followed in conjunction with previous #1 and 2 rules being, Don’t fight them at all just run, and Never go fisticuffs with a Carrier form, respectively.
December 16th, 6:51 p.m.
After fighting an insane amount of Flood on an elevator (THIS IS OUR HOUSE!) we finally move on into the labyrinth below. The sheer size of the level is lost on most people because they are too busy fighting to stay alive.
I find myself experiencing vertigo while flying through all the twisty pipes. Brice dies when he can’t figure out how to open a steam piston to drop down and takes a few infection forms up the derriere.
December 16th, 7:00 p.m.
We are still trying to retrieve this damn Icon/Index and the most infuriating part is we are on another hover boat (we are not singing this time as the Flood are serious business) and I’m starting to physically track our progress. We can barrel rush through Halo 3 in about 5 hours, but as it stands, we are running out of time. As it is we are going to go way into the wee morning.
On a side note, I somehow sworded through the floor of the hover boat. WTF. I had a shotgun!
Brice asks if we are almost done with this game. I lie and tell him everything will be OK. He eyes me suspiciously until the cat is out of the bag and they announce we are trying to get to the Library. “Mother fucker” aren’t exactly what Brice’s eyes convene, but it will do.
December 16th 7:30 p.m.
The last 30 minutes were filled with more swearing than a sailor on a Sunday. I’m just going to move on. I will say this though, maybe it’s because I have watched too much Star Trek, but in what world does a ship’s captain go down on dangerous missions and leave her ship unattended? I mean it’s not like In Amber Clad will get infected and taken over or anything…
December 16th, 7:33 p.m.
Brice agrees that Halo has suddenly just become a clone of Little Shop of Horrors, minus Rick Moranis of course. I mean come on Bungie, you really had no clue? We watch as the Master Chief and Arbiter become BFFs.
December 16th, 7:43 p.m.
While fighting Ghost/Wraith/Scorpion infected tanks I want to point out a very special note to Brice. It is very difficult to only just kill the driver. Brice keeps getting angry with me saying “Dude I was about to jack that,” and mad that he has to huff it on foot for parts of the level. Next time don’t lose your Ghost going boosty at the beginning of the level.
December 16th, 7:56 p.m.
I have to give a lot of credit and a lot of deaths to Brice. Taylor had become antsy in wanting to not get ready for bed leaving me to have to abandon my post. It looks like it was a slow and painful process for him to clear most of the High Charity level. By the time I picked up my controller again, he simply told me he never wanted to talk about it. I tell him on one of the 2-minute long gravity lifts he has a nice butt. He’s still not amused.
December 16th, 8:11 p.m.
Switch back to some Arbiter mayhem. Call it fatigue, but Brice and I start trying to kill our allies at every turn. Since you never fight humans and there aren’t any flood around, the bad guys seem just kind of merge together. I fall back on the safety of my dual Needlers and let them deliver Judge Dredd justice. Needless to say, some shit gets blown up. Rinse. Repeat.
December 16th, 8:29 p.m.
We finish killing Brutes and what not and start kicking butt once more as the Master Chief. Brice and I starting to get a little tired of the constant Brute rushes. At some point Roslyn enters the room asking us meticulous questions about the game. Every time something goes wrong, I blame it on her.
December 16th, 8:43 p.m.
I don’t know exactly how it happened, but Brice get’s utterly lost. By the time I realize it, I’m more than half way up the map. I backtrack to find him stuck in the open courtyard doing laps. He’ll run around and then look it at me yelling “how the hell did you get there?” I tell him to look to his right. All he can say is. “Fuck me.”
December 16th 8:46 p.m.
Wanting this level to be desperately over, I do a grenade hop on top of the level and run like the dickens while Brice blasts away on the ground below. Finally we get to the end and we watch us take the most badass slip and slide that could ever be conceived.
December 16th, 8:47
We start the last mission to which Brice is already bummed that we finish the game as the Arbiter. He jumps on the Spectre and finds immediate disappointment in the AI’s driving ability leaving to pretty much get decimated. Luckily my tank is dropping pain like presents at Christmas.
December 16th, 8:57 p.m.
We get to the Scarab and I again get sidetracked. By the time I get back, Brice has pretty much cleaned shop. He tells me he lives for the vehicle moments so I try to drop my banshee on him as he goes through the front door.
December 16th, 9:02 p.m.
I’m not entirely sure how it happened, but Brice tried to sticky an unaware Brute. However, he missed by centimeters and the grenade bounced back attaching itself to Brice’s body. Not only did he die, but the resulting explosion sprung the trap early leaving me to fend for myself.
December 16th, 9:04 p.m.
Brice comes back into the game literally right behind the initial captain he was trying to stick and gives him one to the back of the dome. You can’t say the game doesn’t try to keep things fair on the easier difficulties.
December 16th, 9:15 p.m.
We get to the main ring and fight Tartar Sauce in a playful association with Tarturus. As I say this Brice realizes he’s hungry. What Brice doesn’t realize is I’ve been secretly eating more pizza downstairs in between level loads. Whoops.
December 16th 9:17 p.m.
I round a corner into Tartar Sauce and get concussed too far in jump over the edge of the map. I tell Brice to be careful, where he goes and shoots him and then swords him killing him. Brice looks and me asks, “that’s it?”
Try playing the game on legendary punkass.
Johnson and Miranda come back up and we all talk about going back to earth. I cry a little as I realize we’ll be here until at least 2:30 a.m. playing Halo 3.
Brice's total deaths: 46*
Matt's total deaths: 28
Total restarts: 9
Let the Good Times Roll. (see: Sarcasm) Halo 3 here we come.
* Should reflect that Brice died 5 times while continuing to play while I abandoned my post. The record should in fact reflect that he died only 41 times, but seeing how we are not sure how many deaths he actually accumulated while I was gone (and not recording) and seeing how since he sucks considerably when I am not around to carry his weak ass, this number was probably a lot higher so we decided to come to an average middle ground.
Thursday, December 31, 2009
Thursday, December 17, 2009
Halo Day
Yesterday, I conducted what I thought would be a little experiment that turned into a challenge that would test my stamina, patience and coordination beyond any recordable measure.
For you see, Brice and I completed Halo, Halo 2, and Halo 3 back to back to back in one sitting. He had never played all of them and didn't know the whole story. To me, that was like letting a kid watch all six Star Wars together. I had to oblige him.
Hence forth, December 16th, 2009 shall forever be known as Halo Day. Enjoy the break down of this event over the next few days of my blog.
The statistics?
For all THREE games, it took us 17 hours and 16 minutes resulting in 215 (5*) player deaths, and 27 restarts with a total of three people playing.
During this game fest 2 pizzas, 2 bags of chips, 12 chicken wings, 2 coffees, 2 Icees, one 2-liter of Dr. Pepper, a Snickers bar and a handful of Reese’s Pieces were consumed. To my recollection, there was not one potty break.
The log speaks for itself below.
Halo
December 15th, 9:49 p.m.
I find myself worrying that Brice might not be up to the task of our Halo Marathon tomorrow after realizing he is foolishy staying up late to play Left 4 Dead 2 while I enjoy the romantic comedy 500 Days of Summer and go to bed before double digits read off on the clock like a senior citizen. Hopefully my girlfriend doesn’t catch me thinking about a man while we are cuddling.
December 16th, 8:30 a.m.
Slumber was delightful. I feel rejuvenated. I tried calling Brice to make sure he was ready for our Halo Marathon. No answer. Knowing him, he probably purposefully ignored my call. I’ll harass him in a few minutes while I go make a coffee run.
December 16th, 8:47 a.m.
Got a hold of Brice. It was like talking to an angry panda bear, more guttural sounds came from him than intelligent words. Regardless, I bribed him with his kryptonite: White peppermint mocha with all the fixings and extra delicious. Whatever the end result, the die has been cast.
December 16th, 9:29 a.m.
We start playing Halo. I make the mistake of not inverting my thumbsticks and have to play the entire first level backwards. The result is what it would look like if the military ever resorted to drafting mental handicap children into the army. Brice carried the way.
December 16th, 9:33 a.m.
The first betrayal! Brice panicked when instantly teleported to my location and cracked me in the back of the dome. It seems like even in the distant future where mankind struggles for survival, the parables of Cain and Abel still have not been learned. I will avenge myself when I can.
December 16th, 9:47 a.m.
After a quick restart my controls were back to normal. However I proceed to make my first actual death one where I fell off the cliff while shooting at bad guys. I tried to convince Brice that the controls were still awkward but he wasn’t buying it. Damn it.
December 16th, 9:55 a.m.
Another death on my part. I forgot that the original Halo had fall damage and I foolishly leapt from the top of the tower to save some Marine buddies. Brice accidentally killed Sergeant Johnson. I foresee this either as blatant racism, or the sinister intention of perfecting his betraying skills to catch me unawares. I wonder if Brice’s actions could some how change the game seeing how he just killed one of the most important characters in the game in the first few minutes.
December 16th, 10:01 a.m.
I have been avenged. Foehammer dropped the warthog off and I immediately drove it off a cliff flipping it and squashing Brice on the gunner seat while surviving like the badass I am. Another thing I forgot: How poor the warthog handles in the first game. It’s like comparing a mini-van to a F1 race car. I’m going to need to shake off the rust for the end Pillar of Autumn run.
December 16th, 10:45 a.m.
Things have been proceeding well. I found I’m not as sloppy with the sniper rifle as I feared and Brice has been cleaning house pretty well. Brice discovered the hard way that trying to fight a cloaked sword Elite with your face doesn’t work out in your favor.
December 16th, 11:24 a.m.
Brice and I discover what Halo’s creators, Bungie, do best. Make you backtrack. While playing the Silent Cartographer we ran all over the place. Brice almost gave up the fight right then and there saying he wanted to take a vacation to the beautiful and tranquil beaches.
December 16th, 11:47 a.m.
Brice, in all his infinite wisdom thought it would be a good idea to t-bone me at full speed with his tank while I waited in the Warthog. The ending result flipped the hog and then squished me in between it and a wall.
December 16th, 12:01 p.m.
Brice just discovered what happens when you stand still on the back of a warthog in the middle of a battlefield. Sticky to the head.
December 16th, 12:15 p.m.
We took a shortcut by jumping in a banshee before it took off to get to the control room. Shaved off at least 30 minutes. I got knocked out by plasma fire and feeling vengeful stole Brice’s Banshee for some payback… which resulted in another death. Luckily Brice had the common sense to complete the mission.
December 16th, 12:43 p.m.
Brice and I have come to some decisions about Halo. The Flood suck. Shotguns rock.
December 16th, 12:52 p.m.
Brice learns two cold hard lessons. I will leave him behind to die if it’s the Flood. Elevator are not toys. If you jump enough on them, you will glitch and fall through them.
December 16th, 1:03 p.m.
Damn this library is redonkulously big. I still don’t understand why Guilty Spark can’t just teleport us to the freaking index. I feel like this a carnival ride gone retardedly wrong.
December 16th, 1:10 p.m.
I don’t think I can ever eat popcorn shrimp again as they remind me too much of Flood infection forms. Brice is particularly angry after trying to pet one and having it latch on to him and kill him while he was waiting for his shields to recharge.
December 16th, 1:27 p.m.
Correction from previous journal. The Flood suck on different levels. Flood with rocket launchers or shotguns are maximum suck.
December 16th, 1:41 p.m.
It seems like we just can’t make friends in the future. Covenant, Flood, and now flying laser beam bots all want our heads on pikes. Replaying the control level map. I’m aware I’m in the same place, but I’m too busy trying to stay alive to care.
December 16th, 1:57 p.m.
I’m a little disappointed Brice didn’t see that huge gaping hole in the Truth and Reconcilation and now is making us fight in the dark with the flood. I didn’t have the heart to tell him it was scripted that way because I am evil.
December 16th, 2:10 p.m.
Last level, but I’m getting a little sick of Brice’s betraying ways. He just shotgunned me in the face when he mistook me for a HUNTER…. As a result I now have more deaths than him. Being the case that I am the better player and refuse to have it go down this way, I cracked him on the skull twice and intend to “accidentally” kill him in the last few minutes of the game.
December 16th, 2:24 p.m.
The deaths are tied up after I backed over him when the warthog flipped on the PoA run. I tricked him into hopping out of the warthog where Foehammer dies and almost left him behind. We’re so close.
December 16th, 2:26 p.m.
SUCCESS! I made it to the Longsword. Brice got gunned down on the final run and didn’t survive.
Brice’s total deaths: 35
Matt’s total deaths: 34
Full restarts: 9
Check back tomorrow for Halo 2’s log!
* The 5 deaths have been posthumously added because they were incurred while I was taking out the trash cans. While they do count, I didn't add them to the total because I wasn't there to witness them or prevent them.
For you see, Brice and I completed Halo, Halo 2, and Halo 3 back to back to back in one sitting. He had never played all of them and didn't know the whole story. To me, that was like letting a kid watch all six Star Wars together. I had to oblige him.
Hence forth, December 16th, 2009 shall forever be known as Halo Day. Enjoy the break down of this event over the next few days of my blog.
The statistics?
For all THREE games, it took us 17 hours and 16 minutes resulting in 215 (5*) player deaths, and 27 restarts with a total of three people playing.
During this game fest 2 pizzas, 2 bags of chips, 12 chicken wings, 2 coffees, 2 Icees, one 2-liter of Dr. Pepper, a Snickers bar and a handful of Reese’s Pieces were consumed. To my recollection, there was not one potty break.
The log speaks for itself below.
Halo
December 15th, 9:49 p.m.
I find myself worrying that Brice might not be up to the task of our Halo Marathon tomorrow after realizing he is foolishy staying up late to play Left 4 Dead 2 while I enjoy the romantic comedy 500 Days of Summer and go to bed before double digits read off on the clock like a senior citizen. Hopefully my girlfriend doesn’t catch me thinking about a man while we are cuddling.
December 16th, 8:30 a.m.
Slumber was delightful. I feel rejuvenated. I tried calling Brice to make sure he was ready for our Halo Marathon. No answer. Knowing him, he probably purposefully ignored my call. I’ll harass him in a few minutes while I go make a coffee run.
December 16th, 8:47 a.m.
Got a hold of Brice. It was like talking to an angry panda bear, more guttural sounds came from him than intelligent words. Regardless, I bribed him with his kryptonite: White peppermint mocha with all the fixings and extra delicious. Whatever the end result, the die has been cast.
December 16th, 9:29 a.m.
We start playing Halo. I make the mistake of not inverting my thumbsticks and have to play the entire first level backwards. The result is what it would look like if the military ever resorted to drafting mental handicap children into the army. Brice carried the way.
December 16th, 9:33 a.m.
The first betrayal! Brice panicked when instantly teleported to my location and cracked me in the back of the dome. It seems like even in the distant future where mankind struggles for survival, the parables of Cain and Abel still have not been learned. I will avenge myself when I can.
December 16th, 9:47 a.m.
After a quick restart my controls were back to normal. However I proceed to make my first actual death one where I fell off the cliff while shooting at bad guys. I tried to convince Brice that the controls were still awkward but he wasn’t buying it. Damn it.
December 16th, 9:55 a.m.
Another death on my part. I forgot that the original Halo had fall damage and I foolishly leapt from the top of the tower to save some Marine buddies. Brice accidentally killed Sergeant Johnson. I foresee this either as blatant racism, or the sinister intention of perfecting his betraying skills to catch me unawares. I wonder if Brice’s actions could some how change the game seeing how he just killed one of the most important characters in the game in the first few minutes.
December 16th, 10:01 a.m.
I have been avenged. Foehammer dropped the warthog off and I immediately drove it off a cliff flipping it and squashing Brice on the gunner seat while surviving like the badass I am. Another thing I forgot: How poor the warthog handles in the first game. It’s like comparing a mini-van to a F1 race car. I’m going to need to shake off the rust for the end Pillar of Autumn run.
December 16th, 10:45 a.m.
Things have been proceeding well. I found I’m not as sloppy with the sniper rifle as I feared and Brice has been cleaning house pretty well. Brice discovered the hard way that trying to fight a cloaked sword Elite with your face doesn’t work out in your favor.
December 16th, 11:24 a.m.
Brice and I discover what Halo’s creators, Bungie, do best. Make you backtrack. While playing the Silent Cartographer we ran all over the place. Brice almost gave up the fight right then and there saying he wanted to take a vacation to the beautiful and tranquil beaches.
December 16th, 11:47 a.m.
Brice, in all his infinite wisdom thought it would be a good idea to t-bone me at full speed with his tank while I waited in the Warthog. The ending result flipped the hog and then squished me in between it and a wall.
December 16th, 12:01 p.m.
Brice just discovered what happens when you stand still on the back of a warthog in the middle of a battlefield. Sticky to the head.
December 16th, 12:15 p.m.
We took a shortcut by jumping in a banshee before it took off to get to the control room. Shaved off at least 30 minutes. I got knocked out by plasma fire and feeling vengeful stole Brice’s Banshee for some payback… which resulted in another death. Luckily Brice had the common sense to complete the mission.
December 16th, 12:43 p.m.
Brice and I have come to some decisions about Halo. The Flood suck. Shotguns rock.
December 16th, 12:52 p.m.
Brice learns two cold hard lessons. I will leave him behind to die if it’s the Flood. Elevator are not toys. If you jump enough on them, you will glitch and fall through them.
December 16th, 1:03 p.m.
Damn this library is redonkulously big. I still don’t understand why Guilty Spark can’t just teleport us to the freaking index. I feel like this a carnival ride gone retardedly wrong.
December 16th, 1:10 p.m.
I don’t think I can ever eat popcorn shrimp again as they remind me too much of Flood infection forms. Brice is particularly angry after trying to pet one and having it latch on to him and kill him while he was waiting for his shields to recharge.
December 16th, 1:27 p.m.
Correction from previous journal. The Flood suck on different levels. Flood with rocket launchers or shotguns are maximum suck.
December 16th, 1:41 p.m.
It seems like we just can’t make friends in the future. Covenant, Flood, and now flying laser beam bots all want our heads on pikes. Replaying the control level map. I’m aware I’m in the same place, but I’m too busy trying to stay alive to care.
December 16th, 1:57 p.m.
I’m a little disappointed Brice didn’t see that huge gaping hole in the Truth and Reconcilation and now is making us fight in the dark with the flood. I didn’t have the heart to tell him it was scripted that way because I am evil.
December 16th, 2:10 p.m.
Last level, but I’m getting a little sick of Brice’s betraying ways. He just shotgunned me in the face when he mistook me for a HUNTER…. As a result I now have more deaths than him. Being the case that I am the better player and refuse to have it go down this way, I cracked him on the skull twice and intend to “accidentally” kill him in the last few minutes of the game.
December 16th, 2:24 p.m.
The deaths are tied up after I backed over him when the warthog flipped on the PoA run. I tricked him into hopping out of the warthog where Foehammer dies and almost left him behind. We’re so close.
December 16th, 2:26 p.m.
SUCCESS! I made it to the Longsword. Brice got gunned down on the final run and didn’t survive.
Brice’s total deaths: 35
Matt’s total deaths: 34
Full restarts: 9
Check back tomorrow for Halo 2’s log!
* The 5 deaths have been posthumously added because they were incurred while I was taking out the trash cans. While they do count, I didn't add them to the total because I wasn't there to witness them or prevent them.
Tuesday, December 15, 2009
Pet Peeves for a 50th Post
I was in the middle of a delicious blog when my damn laptop overheated on me resulting in saving NONE of my work. Blamo! So as a 50th post enjoy!
So in a pinch, I give you something I started compiling that even the insane would lament. If you are anything like me, there are some things in life which will drive you completely bat-shit crazy. Below, I present you with the things that get under my skin the quickest:
Saying you don’t like reading:
This is just stupid. To me, all this translates to is the equivalent of saying you are a cave man and want to be entertained as such. Reading is quintessential for advancing our society and if you don’t like it than go die under a rock and don’t procreate.
Chain e-mail/texts:
This one isn’t as transparent as you might think. Yes no one likes gambling on the 50/50 chance that it is exposed genitals and similar NSFW items or spiritual/inspirational messages.
No the thing that irks me (at least with the e-mails) is that your information get’s stamped for all to see and collect. I really don’t want to end up getting Sonoma catalog updates because someone went willy nilly over a missing person posting.
Sitting on the same side of a booth at a restaurant:
I can guarantee that anyone who has ever sat next to me at a resturaunt has heard me bitch about this one. I mean come on, why would anyone turn their head 90 degrees for that indefinitely unless the AC was set to “icebox.” If there isn’t room for my elbows when I cut my steak, I’m not having it. Besides, how else are you going to get lost in my baby blue eyes?
Talking to me on your cell phone while driving to meet me:
Something just happened to you that is so prolific it’s going to change the world. Great. But you don’t need to tell me about it as you drive over to tell me about it. I mean that’s just plain redundant and takes away from the time where we can socialize and leaves us with awkward silences in time. Just listen to your iPod.
Last minute lane changers:
To all of you who abuse this. Burn in hell. Not only is it the single most selfish act you could ever commit. You know your destination and now by not merging when you could have do you not only slow down traffic further, but you also trap people who try to use the lane for its intended purpose making them feel as helpless a kitten with tape on its paw.
Talking on your cell phone while checking out:
On the opposite end of the talking spectrum, many people fall prey to this in the sense that by talking on your cell phone, not only are you being incredibly rude, but you are also sharing you business and your life with someone who for the most part doesn’t care why you are having such a hard time choosing between the best matching colors for your drapes.
Even worse are Bluetooth headsets for their ability to lure unsuspecting people into thinking you actually want to talk with them. It’s tragic because seconds later you’ll find that not only do they NOT care enough about you to point out and establish they like to dress up as a Borg with their hidden ear pieces, but that you are basically a nameless robot automaton not worth their time.
Checking your order before you leave the fast food window:
I don’t have a problem with checking your food. Most of these people get paid minimum wage and in my neck of the woods probably don’t have a tight grasp on the English lexicon.
However, that is by no means a justification for checking the food at the window to see if you rolled the diced and landed as a winner. Why? Because even if they did mess up, it will still take precious time to fix their errors. The fast food assembly line a well oiled machine and when you try to throw a monkey wrench in their cogs, they just slip you back into the rotation. This results in other people who waiting even longer when you could have pulled around. Don’t be a doofus. It’ not wise to anger a hungry person. (see: Cannibalism)
Not pulling up all the way in gas stations:
Quick and simple, the most regularly purchased commodities are food, liquids, and gas. If you don’t want to think of others and share the station, don’t be surprised one day when someone goes Mad Max on your ass.
The Express lane:
Let me make this clear. The ONLY exception to the 15 item rules is anything you pick up while physically checking out. That means gum, candy snacks and tabloids people, nothing more, nothing less.
For those of you who still use checks….. oh never mind.
Door Holding:
This is my favorite in the fact that is the most regular occurring and therefore most annoying. The best part is that it’s not what you would think. If people don’t say thank you, it’s as easily dismissed as the person asking for donations outside my local grocery store.
No, it’s for every single person who has to “check” that I’m really going to hold the door for them. In what world did anyone ever get tricked that instead of holding the door someone violently slammed it in their face? If a door isn’t Star Trekked out by now and automatic most doors have spring hinges these days to prevent a door from just simply slamming it. And yet every single one of you is guilty of suspecting this breaching treachery as if we were all commie spies during the Cold War.
All I’m saying is if you check my door in the future, I’m going to start seriously considering giving you a reason to. With a grin on my face.
BEWARE!
So in a pinch, I give you something I started compiling that even the insane would lament. If you are anything like me, there are some things in life which will drive you completely bat-shit crazy. Below, I present you with the things that get under my skin the quickest:
Saying you don’t like reading:
This is just stupid. To me, all this translates to is the equivalent of saying you are a cave man and want to be entertained as such. Reading is quintessential for advancing our society and if you don’t like it than go die under a rock and don’t procreate.
Chain e-mail/texts:
This one isn’t as transparent as you might think. Yes no one likes gambling on the 50/50 chance that it is exposed genitals and similar NSFW items or spiritual/inspirational messages.
No the thing that irks me (at least with the e-mails) is that your information get’s stamped for all to see and collect. I really don’t want to end up getting Sonoma catalog updates because someone went willy nilly over a missing person posting.
Sitting on the same side of a booth at a restaurant:
I can guarantee that anyone who has ever sat next to me at a resturaunt has heard me bitch about this one. I mean come on, why would anyone turn their head 90 degrees for that indefinitely unless the AC was set to “icebox.” If there isn’t room for my elbows when I cut my steak, I’m not having it. Besides, how else are you going to get lost in my baby blue eyes?
Talking to me on your cell phone while driving to meet me:
Something just happened to you that is so prolific it’s going to change the world. Great. But you don’t need to tell me about it as you drive over to tell me about it. I mean that’s just plain redundant and takes away from the time where we can socialize and leaves us with awkward silences in time. Just listen to your iPod.
Last minute lane changers:
To all of you who abuse this. Burn in hell. Not only is it the single most selfish act you could ever commit. You know your destination and now by not merging when you could have do you not only slow down traffic further, but you also trap people who try to use the lane for its intended purpose making them feel as helpless a kitten with tape on its paw.
Talking on your cell phone while checking out:
On the opposite end of the talking spectrum, many people fall prey to this in the sense that by talking on your cell phone, not only are you being incredibly rude, but you are also sharing you business and your life with someone who for the most part doesn’t care why you are having such a hard time choosing between the best matching colors for your drapes.
Even worse are Bluetooth headsets for their ability to lure unsuspecting people into thinking you actually want to talk with them. It’s tragic because seconds later you’ll find that not only do they NOT care enough about you to point out and establish they like to dress up as a Borg with their hidden ear pieces, but that you are basically a nameless robot automaton not worth their time.
Checking your order before you leave the fast food window:
I don’t have a problem with checking your food. Most of these people get paid minimum wage and in my neck of the woods probably don’t have a tight grasp on the English lexicon.
However, that is by no means a justification for checking the food at the window to see if you rolled the diced and landed as a winner. Why? Because even if they did mess up, it will still take precious time to fix their errors. The fast food assembly line a well oiled machine and when you try to throw a monkey wrench in their cogs, they just slip you back into the rotation. This results in other people who waiting even longer when you could have pulled around. Don’t be a doofus. It’ not wise to anger a hungry person. (see: Cannibalism)
Not pulling up all the way in gas stations:
Quick and simple, the most regularly purchased commodities are food, liquids, and gas. If you don’t want to think of others and share the station, don’t be surprised one day when someone goes Mad Max on your ass.
The Express lane:
Let me make this clear. The ONLY exception to the 15 item rules is anything you pick up while physically checking out. That means gum, candy snacks and tabloids people, nothing more, nothing less.
For those of you who still use checks….. oh never mind.
Door Holding:
This is my favorite in the fact that is the most regular occurring and therefore most annoying. The best part is that it’s not what you would think. If people don’t say thank you, it’s as easily dismissed as the person asking for donations outside my local grocery store.
No, it’s for every single person who has to “check” that I’m really going to hold the door for them. In what world did anyone ever get tricked that instead of holding the door someone violently slammed it in their face? If a door isn’t Star Trekked out by now and automatic most doors have spring hinges these days to prevent a door from just simply slamming it. And yet every single one of you is guilty of suspecting this breaching treachery as if we were all commie spies during the Cold War.
All I’m saying is if you check my door in the future, I’m going to start seriously considering giving you a reason to. With a grin on my face.
BEWARE!
Monday, December 14, 2009
I AM SAM
Dear Sam Raimi,
Why must you let me down so much?
You used to make great movies like the Evil Dead Trilogy among many others. You used to make me laugh. Now all you do is make me cry.
I thought maybe in Spider-Man 3, you might have had a rough patch in your personal life as of late. Maybe your wife discovered the purpose of hiring cute, 18-year-old personal assistants and put a stop to it. Maybe your body was snatched up by a pod and now an alien zombie copy of you has taken your place.
Either way, I try to look past your failure and move to the future. After recent news, all I can ask is this: Have you ever read a comic book in your life?
Spider-Man is not Emo, he is not into Jazz hands, and he certainly doesn’t take his mask off every 15 seconds to show us how blue his eyes are.
So stop fucking it up already….. sir.
The fact that you hobbled Venom, one of Spidey’s worst villains and combined him a character that you half-ass pulled out of comic lore and then infused it with your own primadona needs was supposed to teach you a lesson that when you play god, it bites you in the face.
Did you ever read the feedback or did you just watch the dollar signs rain down on your cash cow franchise?
Let me explain this as simple as I can: WE DO NOT NEED NEW MADE-UP VILLAINS! You have plenty of bad guys waiting in the stables, probably more than any other franchise. Vulture: GOOD. Vuluress: STUPID AND BAD. It’s like you are devolving into a caveman with your creative wit in a universe overflowing with possibility.
I know you have signed on for six films, and while I’m disappointed Disney and Marvel don’t seem to put a tighter reign on your affairs, please stop frustrating fans.
Here’s the basic formula to keep Spider-Man 4 amazing. Have Peter struggle with personal character flaws between him and his alter-ego WITHOUT the hair getting slicked back. Introduce the origin of just one villain and create an intricate showdown between the two. Make sure Bruce Campbell reprises a cameo. So far, it is your only bread and butter consistency.
Failing that, let your brother Ted take a shot at it. I don’t see how he could screw it up anymore than you have.
Thank you for your time Mr. Raimi,
Matt
P.S. Drag Me to Hell wasn’t too Shabby, but please think twice before you run off and make another Evil Dead. Don’t fix what isn’t broken.
Why must you let me down so much?
You used to make great movies like the Evil Dead Trilogy among many others. You used to make me laugh. Now all you do is make me cry.
I thought maybe in Spider-Man 3, you might have had a rough patch in your personal life as of late. Maybe your wife discovered the purpose of hiring cute, 18-year-old personal assistants and put a stop to it. Maybe your body was snatched up by a pod and now an alien zombie copy of you has taken your place.
Either way, I try to look past your failure and move to the future. After recent news, all I can ask is this: Have you ever read a comic book in your life?
Spider-Man is not Emo, he is not into Jazz hands, and he certainly doesn’t take his mask off every 15 seconds to show us how blue his eyes are.
So stop fucking it up already….. sir.
The fact that you hobbled Venom, one of Spidey’s worst villains and combined him a character that you half-ass pulled out of comic lore and then infused it with your own primadona needs was supposed to teach you a lesson that when you play god, it bites you in the face.
Did you ever read the feedback or did you just watch the dollar signs rain down on your cash cow franchise?
Let me explain this as simple as I can: WE DO NOT NEED NEW MADE-UP VILLAINS! You have plenty of bad guys waiting in the stables, probably more than any other franchise. Vulture: GOOD. Vuluress: STUPID AND BAD. It’s like you are devolving into a caveman with your creative wit in a universe overflowing with possibility.
I know you have signed on for six films, and while I’m disappointed Disney and Marvel don’t seem to put a tighter reign on your affairs, please stop frustrating fans.
Here’s the basic formula to keep Spider-Man 4 amazing. Have Peter struggle with personal character flaws between him and his alter-ego WITHOUT the hair getting slicked back. Introduce the origin of just one villain and create an intricate showdown between the two. Make sure Bruce Campbell reprises a cameo. So far, it is your only bread and butter consistency.
Failing that, let your brother Ted take a shot at it. I don’t see how he could screw it up anymore than you have.
Thank you for your time Mr. Raimi,
Matt
P.S. Drag Me to Hell wasn’t too Shabby, but please think twice before you run off and make another Evil Dead. Don’t fix what isn’t broken.
Sunday, December 13, 2009
Just Another Update
I’m trying to set a personal goal this week of blogging for an entire week straight.
In order to do this, I usually type a blog ahead into the future just in case something unforeseen happens, like I trip and fall into my bed and I can’t get out of it kind of ordeal.
It’s really not that hard to prophesize.
As it is known, I had a birthday on Tuesday. As some would say, I turned a quarter of a century. I had a great celebration the weekend prior with drinking, go-karts, potato skins and more drinking.
Sadly to say, my actual day of birth fell a bit flat.
My mother wasn’t in the mood to go out anywhere outside of a block radius of our house and I just wasn’t in the mood to celebrate my birthday at McDonalds or El Polo Loco. So all we did was stay home and watch some German violinist….. WOOOOOOOOHOOOOOO!
I’m sorry, I lost my composure in part to the sheer insanity that was my birthday.
There was one highlight from that day. I got a ticket to go sky diving! I have to admit, I’m completely afraid of doing it, but at the same token, I feel like if I don’t scratch that off my bucket list I’ll always regret it. BEST GIRLFRIEND EVER!
Now it’s just an effort to convince my mom to let me go. It was mentioned I’d be kicked out and disowned if I went… I’ll work on it.
However, I think my mom realized how badly she dropped the ball and the NEXT night we went out to Benihanas in Santa Monica. I have to admit, the flair is a lot of fun and the ambiance was great. But when you couple that to a moronic staff, outrageous prices, and a lack luster of flavor in some of the entrées, it really was a bit superfluous.
Afterwards we all went out ice skating at Santa Monica’s ICE outdoor rink. It really is a lot of fun and I enjoy going every year. Seeing Taylor fall but pick himself up and keep on going is one of those inspirational moments and I’m glad my parents finally got to see it first hand.
To finalize my time off, we all went Christmas tree hunting for the perfect tree. Since my folks have gone fake over the last few years with their trees I decided Taylor would still get to a cut down a real tree and drop it off at the girlfriend’s house. So after an hour of finding the perfect tree to end all trees, we hacked it down and made it our own. It was a bunch of fun.
To end the night, I had to come clean on a debt I owed from a poorly chosen bet. I think the picture sums it up.
Keep it real.
In order to do this, I usually type a blog ahead into the future just in case something unforeseen happens, like I trip and fall into my bed and I can’t get out of it kind of ordeal.
It’s really not that hard to prophesize.
As it is known, I had a birthday on Tuesday. As some would say, I turned a quarter of a century. I had a great celebration the weekend prior with drinking, go-karts, potato skins and more drinking.
Sadly to say, my actual day of birth fell a bit flat.
My mother wasn’t in the mood to go out anywhere outside of a block radius of our house and I just wasn’t in the mood to celebrate my birthday at McDonalds or El Polo Loco. So all we did was stay home and watch some German violinist….. WOOOOOOOOHOOOOOO!
I’m sorry, I lost my composure in part to the sheer insanity that was my birthday.
There was one highlight from that day. I got a ticket to go sky diving! I have to admit, I’m completely afraid of doing it, but at the same token, I feel like if I don’t scratch that off my bucket list I’ll always regret it. BEST GIRLFRIEND EVER!
Now it’s just an effort to convince my mom to let me go. It was mentioned I’d be kicked out and disowned if I went… I’ll work on it.
However, I think my mom realized how badly she dropped the ball and the NEXT night we went out to Benihanas in Santa Monica. I have to admit, the flair is a lot of fun and the ambiance was great. But when you couple that to a moronic staff, outrageous prices, and a lack luster of flavor in some of the entrées, it really was a bit superfluous.
Afterwards we all went out ice skating at Santa Monica’s ICE outdoor rink. It really is a lot of fun and I enjoy going every year. Seeing Taylor fall but pick himself up and keep on going is one of those inspirational moments and I’m glad my parents finally got to see it first hand.
To finalize my time off, we all went Christmas tree hunting for the perfect tree. Since my folks have gone fake over the last few years with their trees I decided Taylor would still get to a cut down a real tree and drop it off at the girlfriend’s house. So after an hour of finding the perfect tree to end all trees, we hacked it down and made it our own. It was a bunch of fun.
To end the night, I had to come clean on a debt I owed from a poorly chosen bet. I think the picture sums it up.
Keep it real.
Saturday, December 12, 2009
Amanda Knox
So I read up on the Amanda Knox trial and I think it’s a clear example of media gone wrong. With a recent jury duty still fresh in my mind, it’s always been my assumption that you are innocent until proven guilty.
Maybe that isn’t the case as I can browse a newsstand or even a checkout lane at the local supermarket and see huge pictures of a girl that read, “AMANDA KNOX: The girl with an Angel’s face and a killer’s eyes.” I mean COME ON.
Who is anyone to throw a stone into that mess. Especially simply to make a buck on it. It’s one thing to report the news, but when commentating begins to run rampant on either side of a case, it only adds fuel to the fires and no longer allows someone to decipher their own decision but conform to someone else’s speculation.
The media, the press, and especially the Italian Courts should be ashamed of themselves.
While scouring the web here’s what I found in the way of facts. I’ll let you make your own decisions. Keep in mind, I have no way of verifying the validity of these facts, I can only say that the ones I posted were listed at least more than once on what I hope to be considered credible websites.
Amanda Knox
Amanda Knox couldn’t get her story straight and changed it multiple times.
She first said that she was at her boyfriend, Raffaele Sollecito, until 10 a.m. the following day the murder took place.
According to sources and her father’s accusation, the Italian police interpreter had not remained neutral resulting in an aggressive interrogation that changed Amanda’s story to where she had been in the house at the time and was in the kitchen when she heard a scream.
She and Raffaele were witnessed at a local supermarket around 7:45 am and the owner confessed he was not sure if they purchased anything, but a receipt found at Sollecito’s residence confirmed the purchase of bleach.
She was found at the scene of the crime sitting outside in a calm demeanor.
She later went on to accuse Patrick Diya Lumumba a local bar-owner as an accomplice and then later accused Raffaele Sollecito of the murder as written in her diary during her stay in prison.
The Murder Scene.
Meredith Kercher’s room was covered with blood. She died from apparently downing on her own blood from a slit throat.
Amanda Knox’s DNA was not found anywhere in the room.
A bloody foot print sized to match Raffaele Sollecito was found. A bra-fastener with his DNA on it was also discovered.
A third suspect, Rudy Guédé’s evidence was found littered around the room as well as inside Meredith.
Rudy Guédé
His story, like everyone else accused has changed inconsistently overtime.
Originally he said he was making out with Meredith (DNA would later reveal the presence of semen inside the victim) when Amanda came to the door of their flat to argue about money and boys. Not wanting to hear it and then feeling ill due to a bad kabob, he went to use the restroom. While he was in their, he heard a loud argument and put his iPod on to listen to some loud music to drone out the sound.
When he finished, he went to discover someone (he later accused this person as being Raffaele) of standing over Meredith’s body with a knife saying “there is a black guy in the house.”
The stranger ran off, and Rudy tried to save a badly bleeding Meredith who muttered the letters, “A-F” before dying. Panicking, Rudy fled the country to Germany where he was arrested for riding a train without a ticket.
CASE INCONSITENCIES:
Several of the crime scenes were contaminated. A blanket in the bedroom was shaken out.
The hard drives of all three suspects laptops were fried when attempted to be examined.
The wrong chemicals were used corrupting some evidence.
The changing of testimonies and statements by all three suspects.
A testimony given by an Italian driving down the road saw Rafaelle and Amanda holding a knife and hiding, both had long hair and the time was wrong.
The lack of an attorney to be present before the interrogation.
An inconsistent pattern between the knife linked and the actual damage of the wound inflicted.
The fact that two judges were allowed to serve as jury in concordance with other jury members being allowed to be exposed to media events.
All three suspects were found guilty. The prosecution claimed it was a manga (that’s a comic book folks) that induced a sex-crazed and violent experiment gone wrong where they had to cover up the evidence resulting in their direct participation in the murder of Meredith Kercher.
Want to know my theory? Read below.
Amanda Knox is INNOCENT.
Why? Because the courts can’t prove one damn thing. They have no evidence linking her to the crime. They have no credible eye-witnesses. They have NOTHING.
All they have is speculation and a gut feeling. Italian’s pride themselves on that. They put their reputation before the facts.
I won’t even speculate as to exactly how it went down, that’s not my job. If I had been a juror, I would have found Rudy Guédé guilty of murder. His DNA is all over the place falsifying his story. He fled the country. He’s the only one with evidence against them.
Rudy Guédé is guilty, Amanda Knox is innocent.
Raffaele Sollecito is a tough one. If in fact his evidence was found on that bra strap, it’s suspicious, but not condemning.
Do I think they are completely innocent of the crime? No, I think all three got tangled up in it somehow, the stories don’t match up. According to the own prosecution’s case (which they tried separately) the three of them had hot nasty with Meredith, but only one touched her per wishes of a comic book fantasy before pooping and then fleeing the country while the others used bleach and put her under her mattress? No I think not, that’s too absurd.
Regardless of how involved Amanda became she was not proven guilty.
Maybe that isn’t the case as I can browse a newsstand or even a checkout lane at the local supermarket and see huge pictures of a girl that read, “AMANDA KNOX: The girl with an Angel’s face and a killer’s eyes.” I mean COME ON.
Who is anyone to throw a stone into that mess. Especially simply to make a buck on it. It’s one thing to report the news, but when commentating begins to run rampant on either side of a case, it only adds fuel to the fires and no longer allows someone to decipher their own decision but conform to someone else’s speculation.
The media, the press, and especially the Italian Courts should be ashamed of themselves.
While scouring the web here’s what I found in the way of facts. I’ll let you make your own decisions. Keep in mind, I have no way of verifying the validity of these facts, I can only say that the ones I posted were listed at least more than once on what I hope to be considered credible websites.
Amanda Knox
Amanda Knox couldn’t get her story straight and changed it multiple times.
She first said that she was at her boyfriend, Raffaele Sollecito, until 10 a.m. the following day the murder took place.
According to sources and her father’s accusation, the Italian police interpreter had not remained neutral resulting in an aggressive interrogation that changed Amanda’s story to where she had been in the house at the time and was in the kitchen when she heard a scream.
She and Raffaele were witnessed at a local supermarket around 7:45 am and the owner confessed he was not sure if they purchased anything, but a receipt found at Sollecito’s residence confirmed the purchase of bleach.
She was found at the scene of the crime sitting outside in a calm demeanor.
She later went on to accuse Patrick Diya Lumumba a local bar-owner as an accomplice and then later accused Raffaele Sollecito of the murder as written in her diary during her stay in prison.
The Murder Scene.
Meredith Kercher’s room was covered with blood. She died from apparently downing on her own blood from a slit throat.
Amanda Knox’s DNA was not found anywhere in the room.
A bloody foot print sized to match Raffaele Sollecito was found. A bra-fastener with his DNA on it was also discovered.
A third suspect, Rudy Guédé’s evidence was found littered around the room as well as inside Meredith.
Rudy Guédé
His story, like everyone else accused has changed inconsistently overtime.
Originally he said he was making out with Meredith (DNA would later reveal the presence of semen inside the victim) when Amanda came to the door of their flat to argue about money and boys. Not wanting to hear it and then feeling ill due to a bad kabob, he went to use the restroom. While he was in their, he heard a loud argument and put his iPod on to listen to some loud music to drone out the sound.
When he finished, he went to discover someone (he later accused this person as being Raffaele) of standing over Meredith’s body with a knife saying “there is a black guy in the house.”
The stranger ran off, and Rudy tried to save a badly bleeding Meredith who muttered the letters, “A-F” before dying. Panicking, Rudy fled the country to Germany where he was arrested for riding a train without a ticket.
CASE INCONSITENCIES:
Several of the crime scenes were contaminated. A blanket in the bedroom was shaken out.
The hard drives of all three suspects laptops were fried when attempted to be examined.
The wrong chemicals were used corrupting some evidence.
The changing of testimonies and statements by all three suspects.
A testimony given by an Italian driving down the road saw Rafaelle and Amanda holding a knife and hiding, both had long hair and the time was wrong.
The lack of an attorney to be present before the interrogation.
An inconsistent pattern between the knife linked and the actual damage of the wound inflicted.
The fact that two judges were allowed to serve as jury in concordance with other jury members being allowed to be exposed to media events.
All three suspects were found guilty. The prosecution claimed it was a manga (that’s a comic book folks) that induced a sex-crazed and violent experiment gone wrong where they had to cover up the evidence resulting in their direct participation in the murder of Meredith Kercher.
Want to know my theory? Read below.
Amanda Knox is INNOCENT.
Why? Because the courts can’t prove one damn thing. They have no evidence linking her to the crime. They have no credible eye-witnesses. They have NOTHING.
All they have is speculation and a gut feeling. Italian’s pride themselves on that. They put their reputation before the facts.
I won’t even speculate as to exactly how it went down, that’s not my job. If I had been a juror, I would have found Rudy Guédé guilty of murder. His DNA is all over the place falsifying his story. He fled the country. He’s the only one with evidence against them.
Rudy Guédé is guilty, Amanda Knox is innocent.
Raffaele Sollecito is a tough one. If in fact his evidence was found on that bra strap, it’s suspicious, but not condemning.
Do I think they are completely innocent of the crime? No, I think all three got tangled up in it somehow, the stories don’t match up. According to the own prosecution’s case (which they tried separately) the three of them had hot nasty with Meredith, but only one touched her per wishes of a comic book fantasy before pooping and then fleeing the country while the others used bleach and put her under her mattress? No I think not, that’s too absurd.
Regardless of how involved Amanda became she was not proven guilty.
Friday, December 11, 2009
World Climate Summit
1,200 Limos, 140 jets, Caviar and Prostitutes. While that does sound like a line out of the trendy musical Rent, it’s actually the benefits given out to those who attend the World Climate Summit in Copenhagen to talk about the issues behind global warming.
Over 2000 delegates, journalists and speakers have shown up to the summit to discuss current trends and future projections about our planet’s health.
I find it rather ironic that people who propose radical changes in lifestyle decisions end up not only doing the same things they are against, but turn it up a notch. I mean come on world leaders, at LEAST carpool your fancy smancy limos.
Besides the fact that they couldn’t fly on commercial airlines (is first class just not good enough these days) and stimulate our dying air travel companies, but then they needed chauffeurs (taxi driver’s have families too) depleting the entire local 200-mile area of its entire fleet of limousines. Only then to be put in $600 dollar rooms filled to the brim with iced caviar wedges and champagne.
The real kicker? As a gift, the local Sex Union- yes prostitution is legal there, I know it’s not fair- has decided to give free intercourse to anyone with a delegate badge.
I guess trying to save the world has its perks.
A lot of people already miffed about the scandal breaking out behind the loss of data by the premiere science group who postulated the dire warnings of climatopalypse (climate + apocalypse) among global leaders and in the film An Inconvenient Truth or now beset under further siege for these devilish dealings of delight being handed their way. In fact, people have actually assembled their own city-funded rally and assembly to promote awareness of the facts that debunk the science. It's like the Hatfields and McCoys hillbilly feud all over again.
Frankly, I see it as just another shred of evidence that no matter what, the system is flawed in the hands of man.
The way I see it, if anything, Al Gore and company went Southern Baptist on the world and got people thinking about the planet and more than just themselves. In this sense I have no problem with the ideas and concepts of living green. Just because we won’t hurt the Earth NOW as opposed to later, doesn’t mean we can’t preserve it for many future generations to come. I see it in the way a doctor would want to treat cancer. Hit it early and hit it hard.
What I don’t like is the gross misuse of persuasion and profiteering these elite fat cats have garnered through fear mongering and selfish gain. I mean if you think about what just a fraction of the money spent in Copenhagen could have done for the rest of the world, we’d be greater than the sum of our people quicker and really shoot for change.
Personally, I’m still going to shop with reusable bags, recycle, find a car that has great MPG to do my part so that my grand kids and their grand kids don’t have to get the ball rolling in their time, but can look back and say thanks to what we started here and now.
Over 2000 delegates, journalists and speakers have shown up to the summit to discuss current trends and future projections about our planet’s health.
I find it rather ironic that people who propose radical changes in lifestyle decisions end up not only doing the same things they are against, but turn it up a notch. I mean come on world leaders, at LEAST carpool your fancy smancy limos.
Besides the fact that they couldn’t fly on commercial airlines (is first class just not good enough these days) and stimulate our dying air travel companies, but then they needed chauffeurs (taxi driver’s have families too) depleting the entire local 200-mile area of its entire fleet of limousines. Only then to be put in $600 dollar rooms filled to the brim with iced caviar wedges and champagne.
The real kicker? As a gift, the local Sex Union- yes prostitution is legal there, I know it’s not fair- has decided to give free intercourse to anyone with a delegate badge.
I guess trying to save the world has its perks.
A lot of people already miffed about the scandal breaking out behind the loss of data by the premiere science group who postulated the dire warnings of climatopalypse (climate + apocalypse) among global leaders and in the film An Inconvenient Truth or now beset under further siege for these devilish dealings of delight being handed their way. In fact, people have actually assembled their own city-funded rally and assembly to promote awareness of the facts that debunk the science. It's like the Hatfields and McCoys hillbilly feud all over again.
Frankly, I see it as just another shred of evidence that no matter what, the system is flawed in the hands of man.
The way I see it, if anything, Al Gore and company went Southern Baptist on the world and got people thinking about the planet and more than just themselves. In this sense I have no problem with the ideas and concepts of living green. Just because we won’t hurt the Earth NOW as opposed to later, doesn’t mean we can’t preserve it for many future generations to come. I see it in the way a doctor would want to treat cancer. Hit it early and hit it hard.
What I don’t like is the gross misuse of persuasion and profiteering these elite fat cats have garnered through fear mongering and selfish gain. I mean if you think about what just a fraction of the money spent in Copenhagen could have done for the rest of the world, we’d be greater than the sum of our people quicker and really shoot for change.
Personally, I’m still going to shop with reusable bags, recycle, find a car that has great MPG to do my part so that my grand kids and their grand kids don’t have to get the ball rolling in their time, but can look back and say thanks to what we started here and now.
Tuesday, December 8, 2009
It's My Birthday and I'll Blog if I want too!
As the title says, today is my day of birth. Someone early congratulated me and it kind of made me laugh at the fact that I had little to do with being born. It would be another thing if I came out Aliens style having to fight my way to freedom through my mom’s chest cavity, but in reality she really did all the work.
If anything, mother’s should get high-fives in remembrance of their work.
Maybe it took root in the ass-backwards tradition that was elementary school birthdays. To this day I’ve never understood why on your birthday it was YOUR responsibility to do planning and bring in sweet treats if you wanted to have a good time. I mean by that logic, if someone attending your shindig didn’t say “Happy Birthday,” then they were just a schmuck.
Another funny thing about birthdays is that they are always heralded as milestones. Birthday = “Congratulations, you have survived another year! Well done!” In my opinion if a person is deserving of a day of focus on themselves, it should just be called “Awesome Time.”
Then there’s no mandatory need to acknowledge things you aren’t responsible for, but instead celebrate and appreciate the great things you’ve done in your life and the future things you’ll do.
I will comment about one more thing before I go in regards to birthdays and I’m not sure if it’s a curse or a blessing. With the heavy amount of time people invest in social websites like MySpace and Facebook, people have become acclimated with getting spoon fed important dates. To be honest, I’m not really sure I’m jiggy with the fact that people who never find the time to talk to me just send me a message on the site or a text message. Frankly, it just seems like people are upholding their own image of being genuine and really could care less. Each and every person has my phone number. Calling me goes a long way in this age of digital shorts. In the end, it's appreciated, but it's like asking for ice water and getting warm water with a lemon you never wanted in the first place.
Anyways, off to sushi, then hopefully Ninja cooking (aka Bennyhana(sp?)) and then some evening ice skating with hot chocolate. Later Alligators!
If anything, mother’s should get high-fives in remembrance of their work.
Maybe it took root in the ass-backwards tradition that was elementary school birthdays. To this day I’ve never understood why on your birthday it was YOUR responsibility to do planning and bring in sweet treats if you wanted to have a good time. I mean by that logic, if someone attending your shindig didn’t say “Happy Birthday,” then they were just a schmuck.
Another funny thing about birthdays is that they are always heralded as milestones. Birthday = “Congratulations, you have survived another year! Well done!” In my opinion if a person is deserving of a day of focus on themselves, it should just be called “Awesome Time.”
Then there’s no mandatory need to acknowledge things you aren’t responsible for, but instead celebrate and appreciate the great things you’ve done in your life and the future things you’ll do.
I will comment about one more thing before I go in regards to birthdays and I’m not sure if it’s a curse or a blessing. With the heavy amount of time people invest in social websites like MySpace and Facebook, people have become acclimated with getting spoon fed important dates. To be honest, I’m not really sure I’m jiggy with the fact that people who never find the time to talk to me just send me a message on the site or a text message. Frankly, it just seems like people are upholding their own image of being genuine and really could care less. Each and every person has my phone number. Calling me goes a long way in this age of digital shorts. In the end, it's appreciated, but it's like asking for ice water and getting warm water with a lemon you never wanted in the first place.
Anyways, off to sushi, then hopefully Ninja cooking (aka Bennyhana(sp?)) and then some evening ice skating with hot chocolate. Later Alligators!
Friday, December 4, 2009
Remember December!
I was sorting through some stuff on my phone today and organizing thoughts for blogs and story ideas when I came across an old entry.
Have you ever googled just your first name? I did sometime ago and what I received blew my mind. Check it out below.
How cool is that? Some dude named Matt has hit up over 64 countries in the last two years dancing his heart out. I’ve been jealous in the past, but this is just down right murderous envy right here. Talk about an amazing experience. I mean he must have needed TWO visas just to pull it off. I tip my hat to you Matt and I’m glad you represent us.
I’ve long been a proponent that Americans need to travel outside the country. Ignorance runs rampant in this country as we take everything for granted. Some people still shit in holes in the ground people. Just the other day an unnamed family member of mine got defensive because as an American, she shouldn’t have to speak Italian to order a coffee from Starbucks. Holy shoelaces Batman! Where is this world headed?
I mean honestly, we are the United States of America, the one country forged on the bastard children of different cultures and society’s with the gumption to make themselves better. Where did all this pride and boasting come into play? I mean our greatest achievements and military might come from foreigners themselves. We really just need to get over ourselves.
If you haven’t ever travelled, please do, every single one of us could use the perspective.
On the birthday front, I couldn’t really get anything planned due to a lack of effort and the things I wanted to do falling through. Now it looks like we are getting drunk on high-speed go-karts and then if the weather permits a jumper bouncy thingamabob! WOOT! Now if only I can persuade everyone to color their hair red and be a ginger for the night...
Oh and I remembered something I totally need to buy myself! I really want a Tablet so I can draw stuff for the computer. Keep in mind my artistic limits peak at a 4th grade stick drawing level, but I find my drawings at least inspiring for greater things and want to share them with the world.
In the following weeks, I’m going to share some of my deepest thoughts ranging from pet peeves (we all have them) to my greatest ideas of the year (there’s some doozies) the lists are forming and I’m checking them twice.
Lastly, you need to check out this video, the music and passion is amazing. I wish I had the natural gifts this guy has.
Have you ever googled just your first name? I did sometime ago and what I received blew my mind. Check it out below.
How cool is that? Some dude named Matt has hit up over 64 countries in the last two years dancing his heart out. I’ve been jealous in the past, but this is just down right murderous envy right here. Talk about an amazing experience. I mean he must have needed TWO visas just to pull it off. I tip my hat to you Matt and I’m glad you represent us.
I’ve long been a proponent that Americans need to travel outside the country. Ignorance runs rampant in this country as we take everything for granted. Some people still shit in holes in the ground people. Just the other day an unnamed family member of mine got defensive because as an American, she shouldn’t have to speak Italian to order a coffee from Starbucks. Holy shoelaces Batman! Where is this world headed?
I mean honestly, we are the United States of America, the one country forged on the bastard children of different cultures and society’s with the gumption to make themselves better. Where did all this pride and boasting come into play? I mean our greatest achievements and military might come from foreigners themselves. We really just need to get over ourselves.
If you haven’t ever travelled, please do, every single one of us could use the perspective.
On the birthday front, I couldn’t really get anything planned due to a lack of effort and the things I wanted to do falling through. Now it looks like we are getting drunk on high-speed go-karts and then if the weather permits a jumper bouncy thingamabob! WOOT! Now if only I can persuade everyone to color their hair red and be a ginger for the night...
Oh and I remembered something I totally need to buy myself! I really want a Tablet so I can draw stuff for the computer. Keep in mind my artistic limits peak at a 4th grade stick drawing level, but I find my drawings at least inspiring for greater things and want to share them with the world.
In the following weeks, I’m going to share some of my deepest thoughts ranging from pet peeves (we all have them) to my greatest ideas of the year (there’s some doozies) the lists are forming and I’m checking them twice.
Lastly, you need to check out this video, the music and passion is amazing. I wish I had the natural gifts this guy has.
Wednesday, December 2, 2009
The Future is Now.
So I got to thinking about all the cool things I wanted this birthday/Christmas and I got nostalgic for a moment remembering times when I was cool with Hot Wheels and Micro Machines. Remember when it was cool to talk to the robot SmarterChild on AIM? How far have we come? I mean granted, we aren’t at the level I’d like to be at yet, but I’m sure I’ll be able to get myself a Flux Capacitor in 4-8 more years.
All this future talk got me thinking about the future. It’s literally right around the corner. 2010 folks is less than a month away. Every movie, every book, every concept always depicts great things going down when we reach the “20s.”
For those of you of you who intend to approach 2010 the classic way by saying “two thousand and ten,” quit lying to yourself. It’s 2010 as in Twenty Ten, as in, land of robots and flying cars. I’m kind of pumped and at the same time worried. I mean you’ve got 2012 to worry about (and the future of John Cusack’s acting career) the inevitable Apocalypse and/or potential rise of the zombies, or robots first helping us and then trying to replace us. You have to take the same approach to the future as you did on family “leftover” nights. You could get the tasty spaghetti or the meatloaf, it was Russian roulette.
One thing that has me completely terrified about the future is RFID chips. These things are slowly replacing everything from tracking devices, access passes and credit cards. The scary thing is that because they broadcast radio signals, people can now readily steal your security. If your credit card has one of these newfangled chips, someone at Starbucks can simply steal the signal with their laptop as you walk past, scan the code and clone it onto another card.
Right now they only work at places where you wave your card, like gas stations and fast food restaurants (places where they don’t check ID in the first place), but people are lazy and love convenience, the notion could catch up before the security protocols are put in place. Talk about Enemy of the State kind of crazy talk. For now the only immediate protection is buying yourself an RFID blocking wallet. Make no mistake though people, this is a real threat that boneheaded scammers are paying money on eBay to pull the wool over your eyes.
Plus there are more and more cars nowadays with OnStar. I’m sorry if I’m a bit paranoid by nature. Here is a company that unlock your car, start your car, POWER down your car, track your car etc. by some remote operator. It reminds me of Minority Report. That’s too much power for anyone person to handle and I can see it one day becoming abused, or worse contracted through other services like repossessions or private security to muck up our freedoms. If I lock myself out of my car, I might as well be humble and learn my lesson while AAA comes to help me.
There is one glimmering hope about the future though. Something infallible that we’ll always be able to count on.
Oh come on, like you didn’t see that one coming.
Check out the video below, catchy band that reminds me of the Postal Service.
All this future talk got me thinking about the future. It’s literally right around the corner. 2010 folks is less than a month away. Every movie, every book, every concept always depicts great things going down when we reach the “20s.”
For those of you of you who intend to approach 2010 the classic way by saying “two thousand and ten,” quit lying to yourself. It’s 2010 as in Twenty Ten, as in, land of robots and flying cars. I’m kind of pumped and at the same time worried. I mean you’ve got 2012 to worry about (and the future of John Cusack’s acting career) the inevitable Apocalypse and/or potential rise of the zombies, or robots first helping us and then trying to replace us. You have to take the same approach to the future as you did on family “leftover” nights. You could get the tasty spaghetti or the meatloaf, it was Russian roulette.
One thing that has me completely terrified about the future is RFID chips. These things are slowly replacing everything from tracking devices, access passes and credit cards. The scary thing is that because they broadcast radio signals, people can now readily steal your security. If your credit card has one of these newfangled chips, someone at Starbucks can simply steal the signal with their laptop as you walk past, scan the code and clone it onto another card.
Right now they only work at places where you wave your card, like gas stations and fast food restaurants (places where they don’t check ID in the first place), but people are lazy and love convenience, the notion could catch up before the security protocols are put in place. Talk about Enemy of the State kind of crazy talk. For now the only immediate protection is buying yourself an RFID blocking wallet. Make no mistake though people, this is a real threat that boneheaded scammers are paying money on eBay to pull the wool over your eyes.
Plus there are more and more cars nowadays with OnStar. I’m sorry if I’m a bit paranoid by nature. Here is a company that unlock your car, start your car, POWER down your car, track your car etc. by some remote operator. It reminds me of Minority Report. That’s too much power for anyone person to handle and I can see it one day becoming abused, or worse contracted through other services like repossessions or private security to muck up our freedoms. If I lock myself out of my car, I might as well be humble and learn my lesson while AAA comes to help me.
There is one glimmering hope about the future though. Something infallible that we’ll always be able to count on.
Oh come on, like you didn’t see that one coming.
Check out the video below, catchy band that reminds me of the Postal Service.
Tuesday, December 1, 2009
Geek Out
So with Thanksgiving done and buried (honestly, I’m not sure why we even recognize it as a holiday considering how little of an effort is put into it in this day and age), it’s time to turn my attention to the upcoming birthday and Christmas shenanigans. I mean it’s December after all.
People always ask me what I want and I feel bad because I never can tell them anything that’s affordable. I’m a creature of expensive things I guess. Anyways here’s the current list:
Macbook Pro 17”
Amazon Kindle 2 (x)
Apple iPhone 3G
64 cm road bicycle
Halo Risk (x)
Call of Duty 42 (x)
Pygmy from Chuck Palahniuk (x)
Rainbow Sandals (x)
Star Trek the Next Generation Complete DVD set
James Bond Complete DVD set
There you have it. Most of those gifts are each easily over $100. Plus I can burn the DVDs if I just take my time (which I’d rather do then see someone fork over the money.) The funny thing is I realized that I’m a total geek. All of this stuff is just not what the average consumer would want.
I guess I can’t deny my existence anymore. I am what I am.
But seriously guys, just get me whatever you think I’d like. As long as I can see the thought you put behind it, and that you didn’t just buy me a rain poncho last minute out of the checkout stand Christmas Eve, it’s all good. Or you can lie to yourself and combine my birthday gift with my Christmas gift to make it super duper special.
Let the Yule tide begin.
People always ask me what I want and I feel bad because I never can tell them anything that’s affordable. I’m a creature of expensive things I guess. Anyways here’s the current list:
Macbook Pro 17”
Amazon Kindle 2 (x)
Apple iPhone 3G
64 cm road bicycle
Halo Risk (x)
Call of Duty 42 (x)
Pygmy from Chuck Palahniuk (x)
Rainbow Sandals (x)
Star Trek the Next Generation Complete DVD set
James Bond Complete DVD set
There you have it. Most of those gifts are each easily over $100. Plus I can burn the DVDs if I just take my time (which I’d rather do then see someone fork over the money.) The funny thing is I realized that I’m a total geek. All of this stuff is just not what the average consumer would want.
I guess I can’t deny my existence anymore. I am what I am.
But seriously guys, just get me whatever you think I’d like. As long as I can see the thought you put behind it, and that you didn’t just buy me a rain poncho last minute out of the checkout stand Christmas Eve, it’s all good. Or you can lie to yourself and combine my birthday gift with my Christmas gift to make it super duper special.
Let the Yule tide begin.
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