Wednesday, December 30, 2009

Oy

Sorry for the lack of updates, people, but things have been crazy hectic around here.

A good friend of ours came down with H1N1 and had to be rushed to hospital. He's been complaining of a cough and fever for a while, but never really did anything about it.

By the time he actually went to see a doctor, he was having trouble breathing and the doctors think it could be really serious. REALLY serious.

Between work, spending time with family, spending time at the hospital and comforting his wife, I haven't had a minute to think for the past several days.

Hell, I haven't even opened the games I got for Christmas.

I actually missed Dynamis.

Yeah. THAT serious.

Updates may be sporadic for the next few days, but I'm hoping things will get better fast.

This also, unfortunately, means the fan pack will be delayed for a few days. I'm writing when I get a chance here and there, but not enough to actually send you guys and pretend it doesn't suck.

Bear with me, people. It's a bad time.

Saturday, December 26, 2009

How Not To Be Retarded - Vol. 7

Here's the Golden F&%@ing Rule to not being a total retard.

Are you paying attention?

I'm serious here. You better be memorizing this shit like there was going to be a test later.

Yes, there will be a test later.

No, I don't have any idea how exactly I would make you all take a test, but I'm sure I can figure something out.

Anyway...

The one, simple, easy, perfect rule of not being retarded is paying attention.

I know. It really doesn't look that impressive at first.

At first.

But, if you take some time to consider it, the real depth of this rule starts to hit you.

See, the best thing you can do to ensure you not being retarded is to pay attention every time, every single time, someone else does something retarded.

And then not doing that.

This is kind of like on the job training, but instead of learning a new skill, you're learning how not to be a f&%@ing retard.

Oh, someone just did something retarded, so goddamned retarded that you threw up in your mouth a little.

Yeah, you better write that shit down. That way, in the future when you have the choice of doing the same thing, your brain can say "Wait... Why does this seem familiar?"

Through your own horrible experiences, you can actually develop your very own encyclopedia retardica that you can then reference to keep yourself from becoming one of the drooling morons that make all of our lives a living hell.

Just pay attention.

Plus, it will be great evidence should you not follow your own rules and I am then forced to come to your house and murder you.

It probably won't come to that. I'm trying to cut down on the murdering.

Self-improvement and all that.

[GM]Dave's Self-Improvement List

1) get in better shape
2) learn Japanese
3) kill fewer people

But at least if I have to, I'll have some hard evidence to show the jury about why I had to kill yet again.

[GM]Dave>> He wrote it right there.
[GM]Dave>> "I hate undercutters."
[GM]Dave>> Then he undercut the AH by 20%.
[GM]Dave>> Everything after that was justified.
Judge>> Hell yeah.
Judge>> You're free to go.
[GM]Dave>> Can I get my hammer back?

I'm not asking you to do an anthropology project about retarded people. I'm not asking you to do doctorate thesis research about it.

Just pay attention to everything you hate.

Then remember it.

This is not rocket surgery.

Learn what retards do and then don't do that.

Pay attention.

Duh.

Thursday, December 24, 2009

How Not To Be Retarded - Vol. 6

DON'T F&%@ING UNDERCUT AT THE AUCTION HOUSE!!!

That's it. That's the whole post.

'Night, everybody.

...

What? It's Christmas Eve. What do you want from me? I have a thinly veiled marketing campaign to pass off to my daughter as a major religious event.

Happy Holidays no matter what ones they are!

Wednesday, December 23, 2009

How Not To Be Retarded - Vol. 5

Make Time, Take Time

We are all very well aware that real life is more important than playing FFXI.

Probably.

I'm not going to say that's actually true, but people keep saying it, so we'll pretend. Basically, this is what everyone says right after they screw you over completely.

Hey, you've just spent three hours trying to get this group organized and out to the mission location. You're about to start when someone has to go.

Real life > FFXI.

The kids are sick or the wife is dead. The dog ran away or got ran over or something. The house is on fire.

Excuses, excuses.

The thing is emergencies don't actually occur that often. If you played FFXI for any length of time, you'd think the world was coming to an end with the number of people struck down with maladies and crises.

What actually happens is that someone joins a group knowing full well that they have very limited time. They assume that the entire thing will run smoothly and they will have time to get it done.

Then, when the inevitable delays involved with organizing any group of two or more people come about, they don't say anything. Maybe everything will work out and they'll have just enough time.

And they wait.

And wait.

And wait.

Then, when the whole group is finally ready to get to work, THAT's when they bother to tell everyone about the thing that just "came up".

Now, you've screwed over an entire group of people because you couldn't just man up and let them know ahead of time.

You never know, right? Maybe this incredibly hard mission will take less than the ten minutes you have left before you have to go.

Maybe the boss will give you candy when you're done.

Thins in this game take time. It's unavoidable.

Yes, it sucks. It sucks a lot. But that doesn't change the fact that it's true. You can't just ignore it and hope you can get everything done.

You are quite literally putting yourself above the rest of your group. That's not a good thing.

That's being retarded.

I know, I know. [GM]Dave is the most self-centered man on the face of the planet. Surely he is not putting the happiness of others above himself.

I can answer that with two valid points:

a) I only put myself above others because the suffering of others amuses me

b) you're not [GM]Dave

You are a regular person.

Or you should be.

You shouldn't ruin the day of 17 other people just because you wanted to get a mission done before you had to go to work.

That's not cool.

Sure, Real Life > FFXI.

But Not being retarded >>>>>> Real Life.

Suck on that math, bitches.

Tuesday, December 22, 2009

A Brief Christmas Interlude

I've noticed some people have commented on a definitive lack of Jormy, retards, and the Jormying of the aforementioned retards.

Yes, I just made Jormy a verb.

I'll give you a minute to add that to your personal lexicon.

Might I suggest such fun sentences as "Man, I'm going to Jormy that motherf&%@er" and "Holy shit, that guy just got Jormyed"?

Anyway, since we are so close to [insert religious or secular holiday], I thought I should take the time to correct this oversight. I decided the best way to fix this problem would be to set a trap.

A retard trap.

I know. Setting a trap to find a retard online is like setting a trap for a pedophile online. It's just too easy.

Could you take a seat over there?
*coughpervertcough*


Basically, my plan was to offer random players free items and simply wait for one of them to turn out to be retarded.

Not one of my more nefarious plans, but I was tired and hungover. See, this happened to be one of those odd mornings when I was NOT drinking.

Yet.

Still, I felt the plan would serve my purposes as it met the two criteria of my mission:

1) retards

2) feeding retards to Jormy

Now, some of you might call this entrapment. You would only call it that because it is entrapment. Luckily, in the GM handbook, entrapment is defined as "too freaking bad, BANNED!"

It's a good handbook.

We are police officers in only the very loosest sense. While we are empowered to act as enforcers of our carefully laid out ruleset (along with our own completely arbitrary rules), we are not actually restrained by any sort of legal limitations.

Miranda? What the hell is Miranda?

So, I went tard fishing.

[GM]Dave>> Hail, Adventurer.
[GM]Dave>> I'd like to present you with a free item.
Player>> Really?
Player>> That would be great.

...

Shit.

Okay, okay. Shake that one off. You're bound to find some NON-retarded people.

Let's just move on.

[GM]Dave>> Hail, Adventurer.
[GM]Dave>> I have a gift for you.
Player>> Holy crap!
Player>> That is awesome.

Seriously? Two normal people in a row?

Fail, Internet. Fail.

Next...

[GM]Dave>> Hail, Adventurer.
[GM]Dave>> I'm here to present you with a free gift.
Player>> Really?
Player>> What is it?

Ah, there we are.

You might think this person doesn't sound retarded, but that is because you don't have my highly tuned retardation instincts. I can practically smell these people.

Yes, it is as disgusting as it sounds.

There's something about his sentence structure and grammar that sets off the old bells and whistles. Like a master profiler, I conclude that he must be retarded.

Also, he just questioned a free item.

If someone offers you something free, you don't ask them what it is. You say thank you and then ask for another one for your sister.

You probably don't have a sister. You only say that because it is free and free things are awesome.

The first two people were smart. Say thank you and take the item. It doesn't matter what the hell it is, you just take the item.

The third guy... He asked a question.

Retarded.

Still, he might come to his senses. He might still turn out half-sensible.

You're reading this, aren't you? How do you think it turned out?

[GM]Dave>> It's... It's a Scorpion Harness.
Player>> I'm actually a Black Mage.
Player>> Could I maybe trade it for something?

I'm not even kidding. He asked if he could trade it in for something else.

He asked if he could trade in a free item.

He could have just gone and sold the item. Throw it on the Auction House and wait twenty minutes. Bam! Money!

But no. This guy asks me for a favor while I'm doing him a favor.

This is why the english language is so frustrating. "Retarded" doesn't convey how stupid this really is.

I felt I was well within my rights.

[GM]Dave>> Well, I could see what other items I have.
Player>> Something that would be great for a Black Mage.
Player>> And a high quality if you can.

Not even joking. Asked for a HQ.

Wow.

[GM]Dave>> Well, I do have one...
[GM]Dave>> No, I couldn't give you that.
Player>> Wait... Give me what?
Player>> You can't give me what?
[GM]Dave>> It's a hard to get item.
[GM]Dave>> I can't just give it away.
Player>> But it's Christmas.
Player>> C'mon.

Yes, he intended to win the argument by saying "C'mon".

[GM]Dave>> Well...
[GM]Dave>> You have to promise not to tell anyone.
Player>> Of course.
Player>> I won't tell anyone.

Bullshit. The only reason we put in the chat system is so you can brag to random strangers.

[GM]Dave>> I can't. I really can't.
Player>> Yes, you can.
Player>> I don't even care what it is.

Yeah, now he doesn't care. I tell him it's hard to get and suddenly it's the thought that counts.

[GM]Dave>> Okay...
[GM]Dave>> But you can't tell anyone.
[GM]Dave>> ANYONE!
Player>> No problem.
Player>> Not anyone.

*warp*

Area: Mordion Gaol

Player>> What's going on?
Player>> Where am I?!
[GM]Dave>> I had to bring you here to get your new armor.
[GM]Dave>> Your new dragon armor.
Player>> Sounds awesome.
Player>> ... Where is it?
[GM]Dave>> It's right...

Jormungand hits Player for 13,908 points of damage.
Player was defeated by Jormungand.

[GM]Dave>> ... There.
[GM]Dave>> Actually... I think it might be a little big on you.

Yes, I know I banned someone this close to Christmas just to amuse you.

You're welcome.

Monday, December 21, 2009

How Not To Be Retarded - Vol. 4

Listen To Other Players

I know. This advice is completely contradictory to yesterday's advice. Theoretically, if every just shut the f&%@ up, then you wouldn't have to listen to other people.

See, I'm allowed to contradict myself. I change my mind all the time and, even if I don't, many of my strongest opinions are entirely at odds with each other.

I truly believe that

1) people should shut the hell up

2) you should listen to others

Yeah. Try and figure that shit out.

Now, I'm not saying you should listen to anything that manages to escape from some moron's mouth. That would fall into a future theme week called "How To Be SuperMechaGundam Retarded."

Still, people can say a lot of smart shit when you're in a party.

They might play the job you're leveling. They might have more experience than you.

Hell, they might just be smarter than you.

Yes, that is a possibility.

Not smarter than me, of course, but that goes without saying.

Well, it could have gone without saying, but I do so enjoy pointing out how smart I am.

Your best bet is to listen to what other players say and then use your own experience to sift through it for anything useful. Sure, the majority of it is going to be remarkably idiotic bullshit, but every now and then you might stumble across something important.

Somewhere, buried beneath metric tons of retardation, you might just find something that could make you a better player.

Even a moron has to get lucky some time, right?

Give that monkey a keyboard and see what he can do. When he's not busy throwing his shit at you, he could be breaking off some serious knowledge.

I'm pretty sure that's how Brady Guides are written.

Minus the knowledge part.

Now, listening to others is not an easy skill to master. No, no. Every part of your brain will be straining to shut out the droning stupidity.

Should you, however, manage to survive the onslaught, you may be rewarded for your troubles.

Probably.

Maybe.

Then, by all of us listening to the good advice of others, we can all become better players.

And THEN, I can go back to ignoring all of your asses and trying to get me some exp.

Sunday, December 20, 2009

How Not To Be Retarded - Vol. 3

Shut The F&%@ Up

Let me sum up one of the most important rules in not being a retarded player.

*ahem*

Shut your goddamned mouth.

See? That wasn't so hard. All you have to do is not talk ever and you will succeed admirably in not being retarded.

What? You don't think this is good advice?

You think that MMORPGs are supposed to be social games and you're supposed to talk?

That's the dumbest thing I've ever heard.

Yeah, sure. They put the whole text chat thing in there. It was designed so that you could talk to other players.

Go ahead. Tell them what you had for lunch. Ask them if they saw that new movie. Whatever.

Just don't bitch.

Ever.

If you're in a group, then you chose to be in that group. If you're not happy, you then choose to leave the group.

That's it. You don't bitch and moan and complain. You don't tell people how to do their jobs or how much better your last party was and how you got fifty jillion exp an hour with other groups.

You're in a party. You're in an alliance. You're in a mission group.

That means shut the F&%@ up.

You're not offering anything to the group. No one is going to thank you for your keen insight and helpful criticism. All you're going to do is piss people off.

Great. Now, your bad group is a bad, AWKWARD group.

Always fun.

Good job. You're still not getting 26,000 exp an hour, but now everyone knows just how terrible they are.

That'll motivate them.

I'm not sure what happens to people's brains when they join a party or group. It's like they lose the ability to leave that group of their own accord.

No, instead you have to bitch about everything. Like you're going to fix it or something.

You wouldn't do this in real life. If you were at a party that totally sucked, you wouldn't go around the room and tell people off.

Okay, I would, but I'm not you.

You'd get up and leave, right? You'd go find a better party or just go home.

That is exactly what non-retarded people do when confronted with a bad group. You find a better group or you go do your own thing.

It's like sex. Telling someone how bad they're doing isn't going to help the situation. At all. You're better off finding a new partner or just doing it yourself.

Also, it's better with six people.

Seriously. Just save everyone the headache and disband. Things didn't work out, but maybe you can salvage your day and find another party.

Or not.

Whatever.

Just as long as you're not bitching.

Saturday, December 19, 2009

How Not To Be Retarded - Vol. 2

Know How To Play Your Job

There are a wide variety of jobs in FFXI. Hell, pretty much every MMORPG is full of job classes that offer any sort of experience you may desire.

You want to be an Elvaan Warrior? Cool.

You want to be a cat girl black mage? Sure.

You want to be a half-vampire, half-werewolf, half-duck wizard?

... I'm sure it's out there somewhere.

Probably.

Yes, that depresses me, too.

You are entirely free to choose any job, career, profession, and life that you want. You can carefully consider each class's strengths and roles and find the perfect job for you, one that matches your play style and personality.

Doesn't that sound nice?

That sounds nice.

And all we ask is that you figure out how to play that job.

It's not hard. A little bit of internet research, browse through a few forums, and boom! You're an expert.

Okay... Maybe not an expert. But you can probably not get your entire group horribly murdered by ugly monsters with pointy things.

Oh, the pointy things.

Just a little bit of work.

That's not so much to ask, is it?

And yet, it isn't the exception, but the norm that you run into people who are either:

a) too ignorant
b) too stupid
c) both a and b

pretty much every single time you join a group.

Yeah, sure. You had this group just the other day that ran beautifully. Everyone worked together and did their jobs. You made tons of exp and a fun time was had by all.

Huzzah.

That didn't actually happen. That was a dream you had after you cried yourself to sleep. In reality, your party took four hours to get started because one guy had no idea what kind of gear or items he needed and then disbanded ten minutes later after two consecutive party wipes because of that guy.

Seriously. That's what happened.

Or you were that guy.

In that case, good job, champ. You're a credit to whatever trailer park you call home.

It's really not that hard to learn how to play your job properly. I'm not suggesting you devote your entire life to studying the arts of the Bard, but at least get the freaking basics down.

You know, you COULD devote your entire life to it. That is an option.

That would totally work for me.

Then, I wouldn't have to spend the majority of parties wondering exactly what the barrel of a gun would taste like.

Sure, your life would fall apart, the tattered pieces of your humanity burning in the fires of your gaming obsession, your entire existence reduced to being a puppet for my game playing needs.

Take one for the team.

The team being me.

When you log in and choose that job, even if you're only trying it out for shits and giggles, you are agreeing to learn that shit. You are agreeing to work your ass off until you are an ass-kicking machine.

That's why it's called a job.

Yeah, yeah. You're only playing a game. You only want to have fun.

Bullshit. You want fun, go play outside or something.

Or in traffic.

Whatever.

Friday, December 18, 2009

I Am Bored, Thus...

Screw it. We're doing a theme week.

There's no real reason behind it. I know I said some shit about figuring out a new schedule, but I just feel like doing a theme week.

So I am.

Last month's top donator has given me an interesting challenge. Instead of a week about how retarded people are, he wants me to explain how NOT to be retarded.

It's like a preemptive strike.

So, I will be spending the next seven days, tonight included, discussing everything that you should do so that you don't turn into a giant tool.

You may want to write this down.

Or just print it out.

Or... Well, you could just bookmark it.

You know what? I'm not your freaking secretary. Figure this shit out.

Anyway...

As usual, after a straight week of my insane bitching and ranting, I'll be sending out a fan pack. The way I figure it, I'll take the 25th off and send out the first pack on the 26th.

Or 27th.

Shhhh. You didn't see that part.

Everyone who was super cool and donated to the blog will get this wonderful fan pack. You will also know that I consider you super cool.

That's a gift in and of itself, isn't it?

I know. I spoil you.

Also as usual, whoever donates the most in the month gets to pick their very own theme week. Your kindness and generosity during the very financially draining holiday season is very much appreciated and I do this to show you how much it means to me.

Too subtle?

Eh, if I had any shame, I might feel bad.

Good thing.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

How Not To Be Retarded - Vol. 1

Come Prepared

Listen. Listen carefully.

We know shit is expensive.

Prism powders, silent oils, mp drinks, ninja tools, food, medicines, etc, etc, etc all cost money.

We are fully aware of that.

And yes, we know you don't like spending your money. It takes time to farm up and earn gil, so you really don't want to spend it if it's not entirely necessary. You don't want to buy things that you might end up not needing.

We totally get that.

If I looked WAAAAAAAAAY down in the deepest, darkest regions of my cold, black heart, I might even care.

It's not likely, but I might.

Suck it up, buttercup. You're going to have to spend money if you want to play this game. You can't expect other players to pull their weight and yours, just to save a few thousand gil.

You're a mage. Your sole purpose is to cast spells.

Oh... You're silenced.

And you don't have any echo drops...

That's... That's fan-freaking-tastic.

At that point, you're not even a player anymore. At that point, you have become entirely useless.

I'm not kidding. You are unable to cast spells which was your only use. You are literally and completely useless.

Do you have any idea how frustrating it is to be in a party or mission group and have some retarded bastard show up not prepared? Do you know how pissed off that makes other players?

Hint: very.

Additional hint: Die in a fire.

It's not like we're asking anything special of you. It's not like you're the only one who had to go out and buy items. Every other person in your group is going to buy the exact same shit as you.

As a matter of fact, many of them will plan ahead for dealing with complete morons and will bring extra items you may need.

That's some real freaking dedication there.

You? You can't spend a lousy ten grand on food.

I throw more than that away trying to get whatever random hat they're giving away at the latest holiday event.

Your only freaking responsibility is to show up prepared. That's it. Being able to actually play your job (we'll talk about that later) is actually playing the game. Your only job before joining any group is to make sure you have everything you're going to need to help your group.

It's pretty freaking simple.

Still, you'd be surprised how many people don't bring items.

Actually, all the Red Mages and White Mages wouldn't be surprised at all.

Player>> Sneak and Invis please.
Player>> Hello? Sneak and invis?
Player>> Can I get a sneak and invis over here?
Player>> Crap. It wore off.
Player>> Sneak and invis?

Every career White and Red mage reading this just started weeping to themselves. This is what they have to deal with in practically every party because you're too freaking good to buy yourself a few items.

Personally, I think these mages should be given a special spell that instantly annihilates anyone who asks for sneak or invis.

We could call it Barstupid.

If you want to be a good player, you're going to have to put your money where your mouth is. You need to know exactly what items will be required at any given time and you will be expected to have those items with you.

Not in your moghouse.

Not in your storage locker.

Certainly not waiting at the auction house.

Know what you need. Get what you need. Bring what you need.

Congratulations. We've just taken the first step on the road to not being retarded.

Watch your step.

Tuesday, December 15, 2009

Agony

Ow.

Motherf&%@ing ow.

I'm in a lot of pain, so today's post will be done in point form.

-took daughter skating

-skated daughter around ice very fast

-wife skated directly in front of us

-I zigged

-wife zigged

-made mental note to explain the whole zig ZAG system at my earliest convenience

-managed to save both girls from serious injury by inflicting VERY serious injury on self

-motherf&%@ing ow

This post has been brought to you by What The Hell Is Wrong With You?! Get The F&%@ Out Of The Way!

Ow.

Sunday, December 13, 2009

Javelin Gakure

I was thinking about the whole Modern Warfare 2 Javelin exploit thing and something occurred to me.

Yes, I was sitting at work playing video games while thinking about video games so I could write something in my blog about video games.

I have a very difficult life.

Please do not feel bad that, in comparison, your job seems like cruel and inhuman punishment.

My job isn't that great. Some days, they serve the champagne just below room temperature instead of properly chilled.

See? Our jobs are the same.

Anyway, I was reading through a few threads about the whole javelin exploit deal when it hit me.

They stole that shit from us.

I'm not kidding around. Those sons of bitches stole our freaking idea. FFXI has had the javelin exploit for freaking ever.

We just call them Ninjas.

See, in case you don't play FFXI (for some stupid damned reason), Ninjas are masters of stealth and magic that are capable of bringing high amounts of damage while avoiding any injury. Truly, they are masters of the fighting arts and the subtle secrets of combat.

Also, they esplode.

No, I did not type that wrong.

They.

Es.

Plode.

I'm not sure how the development process went on that one. Apparently, they were sitting around and somehow went from "masters of evasion and invisibility" to "spontaneously explode".

Dev1>> I think their two hour ability should be cool.
Dev1>> Maybe they could slip into the shadows or something.
Dev1>> Thousands of strikes from nowhere type shit.
Dev2>> I think they should explode.
Dev2>> Like kaboom.
Dev1>> That's the dumbest thing I've ever heard.
Dev1>> What's your last name?
Dev2>> Wada.
Dev1>> ...
Dev1>> So, explode it is then.

Still, no matter how they came up with the idea, at least we came up with it first.

What I think happened is that one of the Modern Warfare 2 devs was getting his ass kicked in the game. The other devs were just plain destroying him.

Then, he decided to take a break and play some FFXI.

Next thing you know, he's coding Mijin Gakure in to piss the other guys off.

If you think about it that way, the exploit is just plain awesome.

Yeah, cheating sucks and people who do it should get stabbed in the neck with a number 2 pencil, but coding in an exploit just to piss off the guys you work with?

Awesome.

They could have avoided this whole mess if they'd either:

a) removed that code before release

or

b) give the exploit a 2 hour timer

That's what we did.

Amateurs.

Thursday, December 10, 2009

My First

This post is going to be a slightly weird one. Given some of the things I write about, that's saying something.

Most of the guys are going to get this.

Any women reading it probably aren't.

No offense intended, but we are a vastly different people and the general course of our childhood years are completely different.

Though, if a woman were to read it carefully enough, she might better understand men.

And how freaking messed up we really are.

Seriously.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

This morning, I was surfing through my daily sites, doing a sort of stream of consciousness thing letting one site link me to another and then another and so on.

Warning: This is not for the faint of heart. There is some SCARY shit out there in the interwebs.

Trust me.

Anyway, I was roaming through links and posts when I saw something that looked mildly interesting. It was a retrospective piece on the changing face of print media through the decades with a particular focus on the evolution of cover layout.

At least, that's the story I prepared for Susan. It was actually pictures of every cover of the Playboy Christmas issue ever.

Then, as I scrolled through them (purely for research purposes, of course), something incredible happened.

It was sixth grade. A group of my friends were crowded into a makeshift hideout we had constructed. Mostly, we just hung out and talked video games and theorized exactly what parts girls had and what we were supposed to do with or to them.

... It's a guy thing.

That's when one of my friends ran in.

To say he looked excited would be an utter insult to the meaning of the word. He was practically flying.

We instantly knew something big was happening. Maybe it was that look in his eye or the the way he ran in almost breathless.

Maybe it was the way he was clutching his backpack like he'd just robbed a bank.

I was reasonably sure he hadn't just robbed a bank. While he was a nice guy, he wasn't exactly the sharpest spoon in the drawer. His IQ rivaled that of a grilled cheese sandwich.

Still, there was something going on.

Something big.

He carefully unzipped his pack and reached inside like a doctor doing a Caesarean. The care he took doing this made us all hold our breath.

He slowly pulled his hands out and, clutched in his sweaty little fingers, were pages torn from his father's Playboys.

Jackpot.

Before any of the females reading this get confused, let me explain. To a boy at age 11, pages from a Playboy are practically religious, something to be studied and obsessed over.

No, obsessed is not in quotation marks.

Any man that tells you he never looked at a Playboy at that age is either:

a) a liar

b) a damned liar

c) please refer to a and b

You have to remember that this was a time before the internet had caught on and you didn't have instant access to the myriad databases of wildly varied porn that it brought with it. Today, it takes three seconds to find 800 pictures of naked women. Back in my day, that had to be earned.

Basically, the only exposure we had to nude women was through stolen Playboys or carefully paused scenes in movies.

This... This was a treasure trove of beautiful artwork, a cache of artfully displayed female form.

Also, boobs.

He went from being a practically useless member of the group to near mythological stature. We practically bowed at his feet, waiting to share in his knowledge.

Then, as dutifully as one could imagine, he carefully distributed the pages to the group. Each boy received one and were careful not to question their portion lest he tear it out of their hand.

I can still remember the page he handed me. I honestly can't remember what I had for lunch yesterday, but I remember that moment with such glaring detail that it's a little frightening. I could tell you what each boy was wearing and even what the air smelled like.

That page became a priceless artifact to me. I hid it in my room to protect it from my mother's prying eyes and would carefully study every detail.

The images were practically burned into my brain.

The only thing I did not know was the woman's name. During the no doubt Ocean's Eleven-ish theft, he was not afforded the luxury of picking and choosing what to take. All I had was a single page, back and front printed with images of this nameless woman.

At some point through my life, the page was lost. Either during a move or perhaps discovered and quietly destroyed by my mother.

It was gone.

Fastforward to this morning. As I was scrolling through this somewhat interesting, but albeit mundane archive of covers, I saw her. It was the same face, the same eyes that I had spent hours staring at as a young man.

Just staring.

Honestly.

This might not seem like a big thing, but it really hit me for a loop. The memory of those pictures had been lost to time, buried in years of non-boob related events.

And then, there they were.

And I finally learned her name. Kata Karkkainen.

I could finally put a name to the face.

I said face, dammit.

This morning was a true testament to two very important facts:

1) it is incredible what a simple image can mean to a young man

2) I have WAY too much time on my hands

Monday, December 07, 2009

Well... Duh

You may or may not have heard that Microsoft has decided to ban a whole bunch of people for abusing an exploit in Call of Duty 6: Modern Warfare 2: Really Long Name.

Basically, if you equip a missile launcher and then something something, when you get killed, your body explodes taking out everyone in a huge blast radius.

Yeah.

This round of bannings has come under criticism (read: internet forum bitching) as players say they are being unfairly punished, that they were simply taking advantage of a glitch in the game. This is not a hack or a mod or anything, but is instead simply using a broken game mechanic.

Their argument is:

a) very logical

b) completely and utterly retarded

There is no way anyone playing the game could have thought this was an intended game mechanic and that using it would be in any way fair.

You explode when you get shot killing everyone within a city block of you.

You really thought that shit was normal?

You can posture all you want about how it's perfect legal to use and/or abuse an exploit you find in a game. By all means, feel free.

Doesn't matter.

See, the fact of the matter is, the whole argument is moot. No matter what their argument is, it is still wrong.

When you sign up to use Xbox Live, you basically sign over full ownership of your little virtual soul.

Or your actual soul. I haven't read the full agreement.

Basically, to play on their servers, you sign a contract stating that they can kick your ass off their servers any time they see fit.

There is no whiny bitching clause.

You exploit, you get banned.

It's that simple.

And, moreover, you freaking deserve to get banned. You went into a game fully intended to f&%@ over everyone you're playing with.

I don't care if the glitch was their fault. Using it was yours.

Do you know a bank can leave all of their money on the counter? Hell, they can leave it on the floor in a big pile if they want.

Still doesn't mean it's okay to take some.

That's stealing.

Yeah, yeah. They forgot to lock it up in the big vault and it was right there for you to take.

Still your fault.

If you make the active decision to use exploits like that, then you have to accept the consequences of your actions.

Be happy. If it was me, I'd mail an armed Javelin missile to your house.

We'll see how freaking funny it is then.

Friday, December 04, 2009

I'm Confused

Today's port could be considered political and/or controversial in nature.

It really isn't, but I allude to topics that some people might find political and/or controversial if they had nothing better to do with their time than try and start shit over things that aren't actually political and/or controversial.

Thus, I present to you a warning: if this does not seem like your cup of tea, feel free to leave and come back tomorrow. You could pretend I wrote something about retarded Dark Knights and the feeding of said retarded Dark Knights to Jormy.

Oh, that Jormy.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Okay, if you're reading this, then you've decided to take the red pill and see how far down the rabbit hole really goes.

Not really, but it means you're willing to not bitch in the comments.

I'm serious. This is a legally binding agreement that should you try and start some political shit in the comments, you are willing to have your ass kicked.

Do I need to go put my ass kicking shoes on?

No?

All right.

*ahem*

Natalie Portman is retarded.

I don't mean that in the cute "oh, she does something slightly inane so I'll call her retarded" way I may ascribe to other people. This girl is full on, reduced mental ability, makes no goddamned sense retarded.

That's the bad kind of retarded.

That's the kind of retarded that makes [GM]Dave very, very angry.

It also makes him write blog posts with an excessive usage of the word "retarded."

And talk in the third person.

Now, what could make me say something like that about Ms. Portman? Surely, someone so freaking hot couldn't possibly be THAT retarded.

Yeah, they can.

They really, REALLY can.

And I'm not even talking about the new trilogy.

No, Ms. Portman decided to throw down about eating meat. Apparently, she is something of a vegetarian (perhaps related to her having the IQ of a carrot) and decided the best way to handle her feelings about eating meat was to pick a fight over it.

Don't get me wrong. I've got nothing against vegetarians. By all means, you feel free to eat whatever the hell you want.

Broccoli? Sure. Why the hell not?

Just don't start shit with us about eating meat.

Those are your opinions. You are welcome to them.

You are also welcome to keep them to your freaking self.

And how did Ms. Portman pick a fight? Did she talk about the health benefits of vegetarianism versus meatitarianism?

No, she compared eating meat to rape.

Yes, rape.

Yeah. I'm not sure exactly how her parents tried to teach her how to eat meat, but I'm sure a social worker should look into that.

This... Well, this type of hyperbole would be reason enough to call her retarded. Frankly, I think it very clearly makes my case.

But that's not what I'm talking about.

Hyperbole doesn't bother me too much. I've kind of gotten used to stupid people saying things that border on monumentally idiotic.

Part of the job. You have no idea how many people tell me that they will tear SE to the ground if I ban them.

No, hyperbole doesn't bother me.

Contradictions do.

So, Ms. Portman thinks that eating meat is morally wrong. She thinks it is terrible and disgusting and even goes so far as to compare it to rape.

Do you know what she's oddly okay with? Actual rape.

It seems Natalie Portman is one of the many actors and celebrities that have come out in support of Roman Polanski, a man convicted of raping a child.

Yes, I said "in support of".

Huh.

What's she really trying to say? Eating meat is like rape, but rape is okay?

Is she actually encouraging eating meat in possibly the worst method ever conceived?

I don't expect crazy people to not say crazy things. They are, after all, crazy. It kind of comes with the job.

The one thing I do expect is a certain consistency to the crazy.

If you're screaming crazy shit all over the place, you should at least make sure that what you're yelling actually works together.

Two wrong don't make a right, but two crazies sure can make a retarded.

Tuesday, December 01, 2009

Our World

I had an epiphany a few minutes ago that I just wanted to share with you.

We run shit.

I know that I've talked about our internet culture running the entire world, but it was always in a sort of half-joking, comical sarcasm. While I do believe we are the driving force in the background of modern life, you could argue that we still have not taken the forefront.

You could have argued that.

Then... Then something interesting happened.

I was watching the Victoria's Secret Fashion Show with Susan. You know, sitting there criticizing all of the girls about how silly they looked.

Totally not thinking about licking chocolate syrup off of them.

Totally not.

And then something amazing took place: a commercial came on.

I know. Commercials come on all of the time. This isn't exactly cracking the Da Vinci Code or anything here. You're watching an hour long commercial that is interrupted briefly for other commercials.

Big deal, right?

No, it was what the commercial was about.

The parade of beautiful women wearing entirely uncomfortable looking undergarments was paused ever so briefly for a commercial about...

Bacon.

Yes, bacon.

That's when it struck me. Holy freaking shit, I was right. The internet does run everything.

Tits, ass, and bacon. That's what we do.

Throw in Chuck Norris wearing a Three Wolf Moon shirt with Rick Astley singing in the background and that's the entire internet.

Sure, you could say it was just a coincidence. You could say that it was just a random occurrence.

You could say that a bacon producing company paid an obscene amount of money to get their advertisement played during a popular television event.

But no.

That was us.

That was us telling the rest of the world that we got this. This is our world now.

Sit back and watch your football and your reality TV. Sit back and watch your made for TV movies and your daytime talk shows.

We're the ones controlling that shit.

And when we get around to getting rid of all of that inane garbage, they'll thank us. They'll stand up in their living rooms and give thanks for their new internet overlords for we will usher in a new era of prosperity for humanity.

Except replace "prosperity" with "tits, ass , and bacon".

It's a brave new world.