Yesterday, Nathan decided to wake me up from a nap. As usual upon awakening, I wasn’t quite able to make use of the English language. Or any language, for that matter. The most I could get out to answer his questions was a muttering that can’t really be rendered with words. At most, it was an “Mmmargh” sort of sound.

Nathan asked, rather politely, “Could you please tell me the entomology of Mmmargh?”

My brain informs me that I must correct his word usage, but fails to convey most of the sentence. “Bugs,” was all that came out.

“Mmmargh means bugs? What?”

Brain is recovering. “Entomology is bugs. Etymology is words.”

“Okay, so what does Mmargh mean?”

“Mmmargh.”

“You can’t define a word with the same word.”

“Mmmargh,” I repeated.

“Okay, I know that one meant ’shut the fuck up.’”

Finally, the boy is catching on.

I picked up KRAD’s A Singular Destiny from B&N the other day (along with a few other books, as B&N is a very dangerous place). Yesterday I read one passage that was a list of Starfleet casualties from the most recent Encounter of All Encounters with the Borg (said Encounter happened in David Mack’s Destiny Trilogy, which was an epic awesomely made of mother-fucking win. Seriously, if you haven’t, you should read that shit, even if you aren’t a hardcore fan). No, the casualty list wasn’t the laughing matter, because that would be more than fucked up. Instead, it was a “name” in the list. The name?

Frak.

I had to double and triple check to make sure I read it correctly (I actually just checked again). Yep, Frak was in fact a Starfleet casualty. Yet realizing how long the list was, Frak wasn’t a frakking laughing matter any more. All those dead people. Frak, indeed.

Halo Wars Demo
Platform: Xbox 360

I played the demo available on the Xbox Live Marketplace and was underwhelmed and perhaps somewhat whelmed. I liked all the aspects of it (even the controls didn’t suck) except one—the camera. It won’t zoom out far enough so you can see the entire map.

If you’ve played Starcraft, there’s no excuse why they can’t show the whole thing (I mean, you zoom out far enough, you saw all your revealed land and armies and stuff, and the fog of war applied to the rest). It’s a real-time strategy game and it’s hard as shit to really get some good overall strategy when you can’t see everything. (I’m not talking about the fog of war either, that’s a great, long-standing RTS element). They have every reason to emulate one key aspect of one of the most popular RTS games of all-time.

I played through the tutorial and barely started the campaign, hoping (because I’d liked the rest, surprisingly) that you could have a zoom-out-more option once you got out of the tutorial.

I was wrong. You couldn’t. And all I could think about as I tried to play was “I want this motherfucking camera to zoom out more.” Since that was all I could think of, I certainly couldn’t strategize, and stopped playing.

Though I did feel like playing Starcraft.

Yesterday, I dropped something and broke it while I was in the kitchen. I said, “Bitch. Bitch bitch bitch bitch bitch—”

Nathan interrupted from the living room and said, “No matter how many times you say it, your mother isn’t going to appear.”

I’m so proud.

I have a confession to make.

I have never seen the ending to Super Mario Bros.

…or Super Mario Bros. 2, Super Mario Bros. 3, TMNT, Jurassic Park game for Sega, or any of the Sonic the Hedgehog games.

For a long time, I thought it meant I sucked at video games in general. This inability to beat the early games (invariably, always platformers) gave me a deep-seated fear that I would never finish any video game, ever. Especially not by myself. So when other types of games came out, and I heard the story was really good, I almost didn’t want to play them because I’d never find out the ending.

Because, for me, the Princess is still in another damn castle.

When I actually beat Starcraft, I thought it was a fluke.

Then came Mass Effect, the 3rd person action RPG. I really, really wanted to play it. And I really, really wanted to beat it and finish the story. Why? Because I like stories. A good story, for me, is a huge component of a good game. When I started playing, I nervously set out on a Normal difficulty. When I got to the “surprise” battle on Therum just before going into the prothean mine to save Liara, I died. I died a lot. But I got through it. Then [i]after[/i] saving Liara (something I later came to regret, but that’s another story) with the krogan Battlemaster and a bunch of geth troops, I died. I died several times. And the old fear came back—verily, I did suck at video games. Yet, I kept trying, and eventually got past it. I’m glad I stuck with it.

Because, little did I know that that particular battle with the krogan was one of the most difficult battles in the entire game (if you’re playing a new character and go to Therum first once you get your ship). I went on to beat the game. Then, in a burst of courage, I tried the game on Veteran. I beat it on that difficulty, too. Next came Hardcore. And then I tried Insane. I was shocked, even speechless, when I beat the game at that difficulty. Oh, and ecstatic.

Recently, I stumbled my way onto this video via Twenty-Sided Tale. It makes the case for Prince of Persia being the most innovative game of 2008—but not for obvious reasons.

Turns out, I just suck at platformers, not video games as a whole.

Nice.

Somehow, I ripped another hole in my favorite pair of pajama bottoms. The legs are too long and they have a habit of creeping under my heels, especially when I stand up. Most of the time, I manage to remember to remove said pajamas from under my heels before I stand up.

This time, I didn’t double-check, stood up, and ripped a new hole in them. Why must they be so uncooperative? Why can’t they behave?

You were supposed to be the Chosen Ones!

Dear Next Door Neighbor,

If your car has a horrible, high-pitched, repeating squeaking noise coming from your engine, a noise reminiscent of a hundred tiny mice being horrendously tortured—for the love of all that is good and holy in this world, do not let it run for twenty minutes before driving off.

Yes, I realize it’s cold. It’s New England, it’s winter, it gets cold. I realize you’d like to drive away in a toasty warm car.

However.

I would like to be able to refrain from STABBING MYSELF IN MY OWN FUCKING EARDRUMS to make the HORRIBLE FUCKING RINGING NOISE STOP.

Either suck it up and drive away in a frigid car, or get that fucking noise fixed.

Not Slashing Your Tires Yet,
—Me

Ethan stopped over to hang out the other day, and he and Nathan and I were trying to decide on what we wanted to do. Watch a movie? Play a video game? Nathan wouldn’t commit to an opinion on what he wanted to do. When we pressed him, he said, “I just want to do what everyone else wants to do.”

Brief pause.

Then I say, “Your mom?”

…this post was brought to you by the letters, U, R, and the committee for ‘ur mom jokes are back in style.’

You know, the more I happen to use LOLcat speak, the more I keep looking over my shoulder in trepidation. One day, I’m going to look, and my toughest professor from college will be standing there, holding my degree in her hands. Then she’ll tell me, “We’re taking this back due to your flagrant abuse of the English language.”

Sadly, my reply would probably be, “I can haz degree back?”

Then I’d inquire about a refund on the money I spent on the degree. I mean, if that professor had yet to smote me for using LOLcat speak in front of her, I’d ask.

Come to think of it, I’m still surprised she didn’t smote me while I was a student.

Of course, that leaves another question. If someone smotes you, would you still have to pay back your student loans?

Wait… are student loans the modern tool of smiting!?

Holy shit! I’ve been smote already and I never even knew!

My buddy Ethan is a coffee roaster and barista at a local coffee/roaster place. He’s usually strikes up some sort of conversation with customers who stop by. This morning, a customer walked in, ipod earbuds in his ears, listening to his nano.

Ethan, ever curious, asks, “What are you listening to?”

The customer proceeded to hand Ethan his buds. Ethan puts them in.

Customer presses play.

Ethan hears: Never gonna give you up, never gonna say goodbye, never gonna run around and desert you…

Ultimate Rickroll.

Ethan laughs hysterically. Customer gets free coffee.

Rick Astley lives on.

screenshot courtesy of IrregularFit

“Your statement is like saying, ‘Every time I eat wings, I should see lots of young women in orange shorts and tiny t-shirts.’ While I would love for that to be true, it’s not always the case.”

—Recon Number 54 on bungie.net.

For anyone with a Flickr account, you know about the changing greetings whenever you log in. This was the one I got today:

Hee.

Paris Hilton pwns John McCain.

Yes, really.

For real.

No, seriously.

I know, I couldn’t believe it either.

Just read this post by a forum member on Bungie.net:

“Girls are better to play Halo with for the same reason that girls are better to do everything with.

Basically they smell better than guys, they’re softer, they’re nicer to look at and they have the affect of making you act like a better person when they’re around.

I can’t think of anything I enjoy doing that I don’t enjoy doing even more with a girl.”

I less than three that post.

Today’s xkcd.

Brilliant.

A forum member at bungie.net started a thread for Halo 3 motivational posters in the incredibly motivating style of Despair, Inc. Using this generator, here were my contributions:

*The majority of Halo 3 players have now completed the campaign on Legendary difficulty, which is also an Xbox Live achievement. In addition, you unlock the Hayabusa helmet depicted above.

Yesterday in a day-of-deadline trade, the Red Sox sent Manny Ramirez to the Dodgers.

I can’t bring myself to feel sad about it. I really can’t. For a while now, Manny’s been a whiny little kid whose antics and bitching have seriously messed up team dynamics. He stopped playing for the Red Sox as a team and became ‘Team Manny.’ So it just isn’t that hard to see him go. Actually, it isn’t hard to see him go at all.

I mean, he’s going to play for Joe Torre. That, in of itself, makes me giggle.

And feel bad for Joe Torre.

One of my best friends is a Yankees fan and we ended up chatting about trades yesterday while waiting on the news for Manny. Levesque is in the Coast Guard and stationed somewhere in the Middleoffuckingnowhere, Maine and hadn’t been up-to-date on the latest about her team. Meaning, she hadn’t heard that Posada (a Yankees player I respect) had season-ending surgery (seriously, how much does that suck?). She also wasn’t sure about the Yankees dealing away Kyle Farnsworth for Ivan Rodriguez, but Rodriguez is a hell of a player, so I think the Yankees made out on that deal.

Anyway, we ended up discussing players on each other’s favorite teams that we respect (I respect Jeter, he’s a good ballplayer and a great leader) and Levesque respects Varitek (for the same reasons), and we both think A-Rod is bush-league.

Levesque summed it up when she said that A-Rod and Manny should be on the same team, and not playing for the Yankees or the Red Sox or Joe Torre (who is a great manager).

Unfortunately, Joe has Manny now. But at least Manny is with D-Lowe and Nomar again.

See ya, Manny. And know that with all the shit you talked on your way out, you’ll be booed in Boston if you’re there for interleague play. I’ll be booing with them, because a player doesn’t shit on his team, and you did.

The other day, I was trying to explain to xnera how to do a particular stretch. Instead of googling for a youtube video or actual photos, like a sane person would do, I decided I could illustrate the stretch using a stick figure.

Here’s the result:

Yes, it has alt-text. Plz to hover.