As for the law and I, we shall prevail! (ode to the Pantheon)
It is a misconception,
That what we contrive,
Will eventually fall into decay,
Disrepute, or strife.
To forego such a conclusion,
One must depend,
Upon a character,
Not kept on a stipend.
Fields and lilacs,
Doth he not gambol,
The drudgery of life,
Does he make his singular atoll.
For grave is his undertaking,
His measure cup large,
To keep and to preserve,
Is what he desires.
The manner, one might ask,
Of fulfilling such a task,
Is both contentious,
And at times, bourgeois.
Verbosity may be,
His one unravelling,
But even then,
You (may) see,
It's open to reading!
So throw open your doors,
And bid him welcome,
For he is here,
To protect hearth and home.
A word of caution,
Though one must note,
He was a guise under,
which even Hitler commanded.
[Note for the slow: The reference to Hitler states the fact that Hitler's party was a democratically elected party. Hence, their 'laws' (if one can even mention both in the same breath) were procedurally correct, but morally bankrupt. Such rules, to this writer, are fallacies and nonsense of the highest order. They would be valid justification for civilian rebellion]
Sunday, 22 November 2009
Thursday, 5 November 2009
The Difference Between Men and Women
The Difference Between Men and Women
Let's say a guy named Roger is attracted to a woman named Elaine. He asks her out to a movie; she accepts; they have a pretty good time. A few nights later he asks her out to dinner, and again they enjoy themselves. They continue to see each other regularly, and after a while neither one of them is seeing anybody else.
And then, one evening when they're driving home, a thought occurs to Elaine, and, without really thinking, she says it aloud: ''Do you realize that, as of tonight, we've been seeing each other for exactly six months?''
And then there is silence in the car. To Elaine, it seems like a very loud silence. She thinks to herself: Geez, I wonder if it bothers him that I said that. Maybe he's been feeling confined by our relationship; maybe he thinks I'm trying to push him into some kind of obligation that he doesn't want, or isn't sure of.
And Roger is thinking: Gosh. Six months.
And Elaine is thinking: But, hey, I'm not so sure I want this kind of relationship, either. Sometimes I wish I had a little more space, so I'd have time to think about whether I really want us to keep going the way we are, moving steadily toward . . . I mean, where are we going? Are we just going to keep seeing each other at this level of intimacy? Are we heading toward marriage? Toward children? Toward a lifetime together? Am I ready for that level of commitment? Do I really even know this person?
And Roger is thinking: . . . so that means it was . . . let's see . . February when we started going out, which was right after I had the car at the dealer's, which means . . . lemme check the odometer . . . Whoa! I am way overdue for an oil change here.
And Elaine is thinking: He's upset. I can see it on his face. Maybe I'm reading this completely wrong. Maybe he wants more from our relationship, more intimacy, more commitment; maybe he has sensed -- even before I sensed it -- that I was feeling some reservations. Yes, I bet that's it. That's why he's so reluctant to say anything about his own feelings. He's afraid of being rejected.
And Roger is thinking: And I'm gonna have them look at the transmission again. I don't care what those morons say, it's still not shifting right. And they better not try to blame it on the cold weather this time. What cold weather? It's 87 degrees out, and this thing is shifting like a garbage truck, and I paid those incompetent thieves $600.
And Elaine is thinking: He's angry. And I don't blame him. I'd be angry, too. I feel so guilty, putting him through this, but I can't help the way I feel. I'm just not sure.
And Roger is thinking: They'll probably say it's only a 90- day warranty. That's exactly what they're gonna say, the scumballs.
And Elaine is thinking: maybe I'm just too idealistic, waiting for a knight to come riding up on his white horse, when I'm sitting right next to a perfectly good person, a person I enjoy being with, a person I truly do care about, a person who seems to truly care about me. A person who is in pain because of my self-centered, schoolgirl romantic fantasy.
And Roger is thinking: Warranty? They want a warranty? I'll give them a warranty. I'll take their warranty and stick it right up their ......
''Roger,'' Elaine says aloud.
''What?'' says Roger, startled.
''Please don't torture yourself like this,'' she says, her eyes beginning to brim with tears. ''Maybe I should never have . . Oh, I feel so......''
(She breaks down, sobbing.)
''What?'' says Roger.
''I'm such a fool,'' Elaine sobs. ''I mean, I know there's no knight. I really know that. It's silly. There's no knight, and there's no horse.''
''There's no horse?'' says Roger.
''You think I'm a fool, don't you?'' Elaine says.
''No!'' says Roger, glad to finally know the correct answer.
''It's just that . . . It's that I . . . I need some time,'' Elaine says.
(There is a 15-second pause while Roger, thinking as fast as he can, tries to come up with a safe response. Finally he comes up with one that he thinks might work.)
''Yes,'' he says.
(Elaine, deeply moved, touches his hand.)
''Oh, Roger, do you really feel that way?'' she says.
'What way?'' says Roger.
"That way about time,'' says Elaine.
''Oh,'' says Roger. ''Yes.''
(Elaine turns to face him and gazes deeply into his eyes, causing him to become very nervous about what she might say next, especially if it involves a horse. At last she speaks.)
''Thank you, Roger,'' she says.
''Thank you,'' says Roger.
Then he takes her home, and she lies on her bed, a conflicted, tortured soul, and weeps until dawn, whereas when Roger gets back to his place, he opens a bag of Doritos, turns on the TV, and immediately becomes deeply involved in a rerun of a football match between two Russian teams he never heard of. A tiny voice in the far recesses of his mind tells him that something major was going on back there in the car, but he is pretty sure there is no way he would ever understand what, and so he figures it's better if he doesn't think about it.
The next day Elaine will call her closest friend, or perhaps two of them, and they will talk about this situation for six straight hours. In painstaking detail, they will analyze everything she said and everything he said, going over it time and time again, exploring every word, expression, and gesture for nuances of meaning, considering every possible ramification. They will continue to discuss this subject, off and on, for weeks, maybe months, never reaching any definite conclusions, but never getting bored with it, either.
Meanwhile, Roger, while playing racquetball one day with a mutual friend of his and Elaine's, will pause just before serving, frown, and say:
"Norm, did Elaine ever own a horse?''
Yes, we don't think that deeply. I'll admit it.
Let's say a guy named Roger is attracted to a woman named Elaine. He asks her out to a movie; she accepts; they have a pretty good time. A few nights later he asks her out to dinner, and again they enjoy themselves. They continue to see each other regularly, and after a while neither one of them is seeing anybody else.
And then, one evening when they're driving home, a thought occurs to Elaine, and, without really thinking, she says it aloud: ''Do you realize that, as of tonight, we've been seeing each other for exactly six months?''
And then there is silence in the car. To Elaine, it seems like a very loud silence. She thinks to herself: Geez, I wonder if it bothers him that I said that. Maybe he's been feeling confined by our relationship; maybe he thinks I'm trying to push him into some kind of obligation that he doesn't want, or isn't sure of.
And Roger is thinking: Gosh. Six months.
And Elaine is thinking: But, hey, I'm not so sure I want this kind of relationship, either. Sometimes I wish I had a little more space, so I'd have time to think about whether I really want us to keep going the way we are, moving steadily toward . . . I mean, where are we going? Are we just going to keep seeing each other at this level of intimacy? Are we heading toward marriage? Toward children? Toward a lifetime together? Am I ready for that level of commitment? Do I really even know this person?
And Roger is thinking: . . . so that means it was . . . let's see . . February when we started going out, which was right after I had the car at the dealer's, which means . . . lemme check the odometer . . . Whoa! I am way overdue for an oil change here.
And Elaine is thinking: He's upset. I can see it on his face. Maybe I'm reading this completely wrong. Maybe he wants more from our relationship, more intimacy, more commitment; maybe he has sensed -- even before I sensed it -- that I was feeling some reservations. Yes, I bet that's it. That's why he's so reluctant to say anything about his own feelings. He's afraid of being rejected.
And Roger is thinking: And I'm gonna have them look at the transmission again. I don't care what those morons say, it's still not shifting right. And they better not try to blame it on the cold weather this time. What cold weather? It's 87 degrees out, and this thing is shifting like a garbage truck, and I paid those incompetent thieves $600.
And Elaine is thinking: He's angry. And I don't blame him. I'd be angry, too. I feel so guilty, putting him through this, but I can't help the way I feel. I'm just not sure.
And Roger is thinking: They'll probably say it's only a 90- day warranty. That's exactly what they're gonna say, the scumballs.
And Elaine is thinking: maybe I'm just too idealistic, waiting for a knight to come riding up on his white horse, when I'm sitting right next to a perfectly good person, a person I enjoy being with, a person I truly do care about, a person who seems to truly care about me. A person who is in pain because of my self-centered, schoolgirl romantic fantasy.
And Roger is thinking: Warranty? They want a warranty? I'll give them a warranty. I'll take their warranty and stick it right up their ......
''Roger,'' Elaine says aloud.
''What?'' says Roger, startled.
''Please don't torture yourself like this,'' she says, her eyes beginning to brim with tears. ''Maybe I should never have . . Oh, I feel so......''
(She breaks down, sobbing.)
''What?'' says Roger.
''I'm such a fool,'' Elaine sobs. ''I mean, I know there's no knight. I really know that. It's silly. There's no knight, and there's no horse.''
''There's no horse?'' says Roger.
''You think I'm a fool, don't you?'' Elaine says.
''No!'' says Roger, glad to finally know the correct answer.
''It's just that . . . It's that I . . . I need some time,'' Elaine says.
(There is a 15-second pause while Roger, thinking as fast as he can, tries to come up with a safe response. Finally he comes up with one that he thinks might work.)
''Yes,'' he says.
(Elaine, deeply moved, touches his hand.)
''Oh, Roger, do you really feel that way?'' she says.
'What way?'' says Roger.
"That way about time,'' says Elaine.
''Oh,'' says Roger. ''Yes.''
(Elaine turns to face him and gazes deeply into his eyes, causing him to become very nervous about what she might say next, especially if it involves a horse. At last she speaks.)
''Thank you, Roger,'' she says.
''Thank you,'' says Roger.
Then he takes her home, and she lies on her bed, a conflicted, tortured soul, and weeps until dawn, whereas when Roger gets back to his place, he opens a bag of Doritos, turns on the TV, and immediately becomes deeply involved in a rerun of a football match between two Russian teams he never heard of. A tiny voice in the far recesses of his mind tells him that something major was going on back there in the car, but he is pretty sure there is no way he would ever understand what, and so he figures it's better if he doesn't think about it.
The next day Elaine will call her closest friend, or perhaps two of them, and they will talk about this situation for six straight hours. In painstaking detail, they will analyze everything she said and everything he said, going over it time and time again, exploring every word, expression, and gesture for nuances of meaning, considering every possible ramification. They will continue to discuss this subject, off and on, for weeks, maybe months, never reaching any definite conclusions, but never getting bored with it, either.
Meanwhile, Roger, while playing racquetball one day with a mutual friend of his and Elaine's, will pause just before serving, frown, and say:
"Norm, did Elaine ever own a horse?''
Yes, we don't think that deeply. I'll admit it.
Friday, 23 October 2009
Music
Richard sniffed as he looked at the slush gather by the wayside. Being a coach driver in 19th century England was far from desirable, even more so at election time. Corpulent politicians would seem to need perpetual ferrying, come hell or high water. They would bark out commands, without so much as a please. The charges barely kept ol' Mattie, his study mare, alive. One aspect Richard never compromised on would be that of his horse. He always ensured that she was well fed and watered. A real treat for his two kids, Roberta and Janie, would be to feed sugar cubes to the mollycoddled Mattie, whom seemed to be the only well-fed member of the family.
There were four of them. Richard, his wonderful wife Justine, and the two girls. He worked hard at his job, but at times, he could barely make ends meet. They went hungry at times, and nothing broke poor Richard's heart more than seeing his three cherubs gritting their teeth through the pain. They did their best to appear happy and unaffected, and he silently thanked God every day for such a wonderfully compassionate and understanding family. Every night, he promised to work a little harder the next day.
Richard had just begun pulling late night work, or 'night shifts', as put by some fancy bureaucrat. The work was a hard slog, with barely any rest for Mattie nor him for near 12 hour stretches. Back-breaking indeed, but if it kept them from starving, he would damn well do it. The hours passed slowly.
The chilly air didn't help his cough one bit. It had only been minor last year, but had grown steadily worse due to it being in the deep of winter. The worst fit had come about when he had had to wait for a Lord What's-His-Name to finish some uppity fancy dress ball, in the driving snow. No one had offered him shelter, and he had not asked for any. A silly move, in retrospect, but one which his pride had disallowed him from embarking on then.
As he watched the snow turn into muck, Richard drew a deep, long swig of tea from the flask Justine had lovingly prepared for him. The hot tea did him good, but it was not very effective against the biting snow. "There there Mattie," he murmured to his horse as he patted her neck. She tended to get skittish when the wind blew too hard. Richard reached into his lapel and pulled out a carrot, which he held out to Mattie. "Have a bit of this old girl, it'll do yer a power of good,"
Mattie proceeded to scarf the carrot down, and neighed softly. "You're welcome girl," replied Richard. The muffled clop of Mattie's hooves upon the pavement was the only sound to be heard on this cold, bitter night.
And then...
I was struck with laziness beyond compare. My body struggled to cope with words... I was like a dead cheetah on a trampoline, going without actually knowing why or how... Call me Rob Zombie...
There were four of them. Richard, his wonderful wife Justine, and the two girls. He worked hard at his job, but at times, he could barely make ends meet. They went hungry at times, and nothing broke poor Richard's heart more than seeing his three cherubs gritting their teeth through the pain. They did their best to appear happy and unaffected, and he silently thanked God every day for such a wonderfully compassionate and understanding family. Every night, he promised to work a little harder the next day.
Richard had just begun pulling late night work, or 'night shifts', as put by some fancy bureaucrat. The work was a hard slog, with barely any rest for Mattie nor him for near 12 hour stretches. Back-breaking indeed, but if it kept them from starving, he would damn well do it. The hours passed slowly.
The chilly air didn't help his cough one bit. It had only been minor last year, but had grown steadily worse due to it being in the deep of winter. The worst fit had come about when he had had to wait for a Lord What's-His-Name to finish some uppity fancy dress ball, in the driving snow. No one had offered him shelter, and he had not asked for any. A silly move, in retrospect, but one which his pride had disallowed him from embarking on then.
As he watched the snow turn into muck, Richard drew a deep, long swig of tea from the flask Justine had lovingly prepared for him. The hot tea did him good, but it was not very effective against the biting snow. "There there Mattie," he murmured to his horse as he patted her neck. She tended to get skittish when the wind blew too hard. Richard reached into his lapel and pulled out a carrot, which he held out to Mattie. "Have a bit of this old girl, it'll do yer a power of good,"
Mattie proceeded to scarf the carrot down, and neighed softly. "You're welcome girl," replied Richard. The muffled clop of Mattie's hooves upon the pavement was the only sound to be heard on this cold, bitter night.
And then...
I was struck with laziness beyond compare. My body struggled to cope with words... I was like a dead cheetah on a trampoline, going without actually knowing why or how... Call me Rob Zombie...
Sunday, 18 October 2009
Pretentious
Yeah, its bad. Like, y'know, when you don't like someone, say it to his/her face. Don't keep it in man, as it'll fester and turn into Pugsley Adam.
Word.
Friday, 16 October 2009
Thursday, 17 September 2009
Announcement
Ixnay on the upid stay. And if that doesn't get you running, I don't know what will. Probably your wanton destruction of Gnomes.
Unless you enjoy throwing your controller at a masked man's head, DON't buy Overlord 2. Babeng punya game, SO DIFFICULT!! And the worst part is, if you die, there is only a minimal chance that you will be rescued by a checkpoint. Nevertheless, it is a game that a 7000Gs animal such as mineself would have to complete.
And here's a walk down memory lane... For those old enough to cherish these games, here are a few that should be brought back...
1. Mickey Mania
2. Abe's Oddysee
3. Aliens
4. Driver 1
5. Beast Wars (great concept then, lousy execution)
6. Road Rash
7. Duke Nukem I
8. House of the Dead (remake it for consoles)
9. Bare Knuckles 1 & 2
10. Twisted Metal
11. Aladdin
12. The Return of Superman
12. Double Dragon (man, those conveyor belts would ALWAYS get me!)
13. Jurassic Park (long overdue a revamp)
14. Outrunners (you can still get this at some arcades, e.g., the one in Subang Parade)
15. Robocop III
16. Fighting Masters (it had a fighting lobster, the pyramids and a boss fight on the moon against a huge creature that wears watches on all limbs. How cekap is that?)
Unless you enjoy throwing your controller at a masked man's head, DON't buy Overlord 2. Babeng punya game, SO DIFFICULT!! And the worst part is, if you die, there is only a minimal chance that you will be rescued by a checkpoint. Nevertheless, it is a game that a 7000Gs animal such as mineself would have to complete.
And here's a walk down memory lane... For those old enough to cherish these games, here are a few that should be brought back...
1. Mickey Mania
2. Abe's Oddysee
3. Aliens
4. Driver 1
5. Beast Wars (great concept then, lousy execution)
6. Road Rash
7. Duke Nukem I
8. House of the Dead (remake it for consoles)
9. Bare Knuckles 1 & 2
10. Twisted Metal
11. Aladdin
12. The Return of Superman
12. Double Dragon (man, those conveyor belts would ALWAYS get me!)
13. Jurassic Park (long overdue a revamp)
14. Outrunners (you can still get this at some arcades, e.g., the one in Subang Parade)
15. Robocop III
16. Fighting Masters (it had a fighting lobster, the pyramids and a boss fight on the moon against a huge creature that wears watches on all limbs. How cekap is that?)
Thursday, 10 September 2009
Ken Lee... Tulibu dibu doucho... Just priceless...
Tulibu dibu doucho... The words man... They just leap out at you and speak volumes! And tuts my barreh... Poetry, pure poetry...
No, I can’t forget this evening
Or your face as you were leaving
But I guess that’s just the way this story goes,
You always smile....
But in you eyes your sorrow shows
Yes it shows
No I can’t forget tomorrow
When I think of all my sorrows
When I had you there but then I let you go
And now it’s only fair that I should let you know
What you should know
I cant live
If living is without you
I can’t live
I can’t give anymore
Can’t live
If living is without you
can’t give,
I can’t give anymore
Well, I can’t forget this evening
Or your face as you were leaving
But I guess that’s just the way this story goes,
You always smile
But in you eyes your sorrow shows
Yes it shows
can’t live
If living is without you
I can’t live
I can’t give anymore
Can’t live
If living is without you
I can’t live,
I can’t give anymore
Ohhhhhh(No can’t live)
No no no (No I can’t live)
I can’t live (No can’t live)
If living is without (No I can’t live)
I can’t live (No can’t live)
I can’t give anymore (No I can’t live)
MC, you're the place to be
Oh yeah, oh yeah, oh yeah, oh yeah, oh yeah
Oh yeah, oh yeah, oh yeah, oh yeah
I know that you've been waiting for it
I'm waiting too
In my imagination I'd be all up on you
I know you got that fever for me
Hundred and two
And boy I know I feel the same
My temperature's through the roof
[Chorus:]
If there's a camera up in here
Then it's gonna leave with me
When I do (I do)
If there's a camera up in here
Then I'd best not catch this flick
On YouTube (YouTube)
'Cause if you run your mouth and brag
About this secret rendezvous
I will hunt you down
'Cause they be all up in my bidness
Like a Wendy Interview
But this is private
Between you and I
Touch my body
Put me on the floor
Wrestle me around
Play with me some more
Touch my body
Throw me on the bed
I just wanna make you feel
Like you never did.
Touch my body
Let me wrap my thighs
All around your waist
Just a little taste
Touch my body
Know you love my curves
Come on and give me what I deserve
And touch my body.
Boy you can put me on you
Like a brand new white tee
I'll hug your body tighter
Than my favorite jeans
I want you to caress me
Like a tropical breeze
And float away with you
In the Caribbean Sea
[Chorus]
Touch my body
Put me on the floor
Wrestle me around
Play with me some more
Touch my body
Throw me on the bed
I just wanna make you feel
Like you never did.
Touch my body
Let me wrap my thighs
All around your waist
Just a little taste
Touch my body
Know you love my curves
Come on and give me what I deserve
And touch my body.
I'm gonna treat you like a teddy bear
You won't wanna go nowhere
In the lap of luxury
Baby just turn to me
You won't want for nothing boy
I will give you plenty
Touch my body
Touch my body
Put me on the floor
Wrestle me around
Play with me some more
Touch my body
Throw me on the bed
I just wanna make you feel
Like you never did.
Touch my body
Let me wrap my thighs
All around your waist
Just a little taste
Touch my body
Know you love my curves
Come on and give me what I deserve
And touch my body.
Oh yeah oh yeah oh yeah
Oh yeah oh yeah
Oh oh oh oh yeah
Touch my body...
No, I can’t forget this evening
Or your face as you were leaving
But I guess that’s just the way this story goes,
You always smile....
But in you eyes your sorrow shows
Yes it shows
No I can’t forget tomorrow
When I think of all my sorrows
When I had you there but then I let you go
And now it’s only fair that I should let you know
What you should know
I cant live
If living is without you
I can’t live
I can’t give anymore
Can’t live
If living is without you
can’t give,
I can’t give anymore
Well, I can’t forget this evening
Or your face as you were leaving
But I guess that’s just the way this story goes,
You always smile
But in you eyes your sorrow shows
Yes it shows
can’t live
If living is without you
I can’t live
I can’t give anymore
Can’t live
If living is without you
I can’t live,
I can’t give anymore
Ohhhhhh(No can’t live)
No no no (No I can’t live)
I can’t live (No can’t live)
If living is without (No I can’t live)
I can’t live (No can’t live)
I can’t give anymore (No I can’t live)
MC, you're the place to be
Oh yeah, oh yeah, oh yeah, oh yeah, oh yeah
Oh yeah, oh yeah, oh yeah, oh yeah
I know that you've been waiting for it
I'm waiting too
In my imagination I'd be all up on you
I know you got that fever for me
Hundred and two
And boy I know I feel the same
My temperature's through the roof
[Chorus:]
If there's a camera up in here
Then it's gonna leave with me
When I do (I do)
If there's a camera up in here
Then I'd best not catch this flick
On YouTube (YouTube)
'Cause if you run your mouth and brag
About this secret rendezvous
I will hunt you down
'Cause they be all up in my bidness
Like a Wendy Interview
But this is private
Between you and I
Touch my body
Put me on the floor
Wrestle me around
Play with me some more
Touch my body
Throw me on the bed
I just wanna make you feel
Like you never did.
Touch my body
Let me wrap my thighs
All around your waist
Just a little taste
Touch my body
Know you love my curves
Come on and give me what I deserve
And touch my body.
Boy you can put me on you
Like a brand new white tee
I'll hug your body tighter
Than my favorite jeans
I want you to caress me
Like a tropical breeze
And float away with you
In the Caribbean Sea
[Chorus]
Touch my body
Put me on the floor
Wrestle me around
Play with me some more
Touch my body
Throw me on the bed
I just wanna make you feel
Like you never did.
Touch my body
Let me wrap my thighs
All around your waist
Just a little taste
Touch my body
Know you love my curves
Come on and give me what I deserve
And touch my body.
I'm gonna treat you like a teddy bear
You won't wanna go nowhere
In the lap of luxury
Baby just turn to me
You won't want for nothing boy
I will give you plenty
Touch my body
Touch my body
Put me on the floor
Wrestle me around
Play with me some more
Touch my body
Throw me on the bed
I just wanna make you feel
Like you never did.
Touch my body
Let me wrap my thighs
All around your waist
Just a little taste
Touch my body
Know you love my curves
Come on and give me what I deserve
And touch my body.
Oh yeah oh yeah oh yeah
Oh yeah oh yeah
Oh oh oh oh yeah
Touch my body...
Tuesday, 25 August 2009
Sizzling Hot Egg Tau Foo...
Anyone up for some?O.N.T.A.R.I.O. Ornery Netted tents Are Regulated In Oklahoma
Saturday, 27 June 2009
What I Hate
I HATE it when people say shits... Its SHIT. Its already plural, unless you've created a manner in which faecal matter may be quantified. DOINK!
Sunday, 14 June 2009
New Books and The Epicurean Adventures of the Avuncular Uncle Tan
Alright Chain-Meisters, its been a while, and after all that hate mail I've received, I thought I'd allow you guys an exercise in how to NOT be plebeian (very necessary, after all that mud-slinging).
There is a very simple action one can take to overcome one's proletariat outlook upon life. I shall enlighten thee, dear chain reader, upon the aforementioned, if you would just put up with mine verbosity a tad while longer.
You may think that the manner which I am about to enlighten thee upon is very uppity, and a tad bit snooty, but I assure thee, tis' none of the above.
The BEST, and DEFINITELY MOST ADVANCED MANNER IN WHICH ONE CAN INCREASE ONE'S UNDERSTANDING, COMPREHENSION AND OUTLOOK UPON LOVE, LIFE AND POLITICS WOULD BE.....
(Cue Imperial March music)
TO PLAY RED FACTION GUERILLA!!!!!!
If you've been a total loser all this time, can't function in any possible manner, feel awkward at social functions, and are a vain, self-centred git, then THIS IS THE GAME FOR YOU! (By the way, the last sentence made no sense AT ALL! How would a vain person feel like a loser? Hah, ponder upon that, foolish mortal!)
In this 2nd ed., you play Mason, a crazy demolitions expert. And I tell you man (or woman), its THE GREATEST SH*T to EVER GRACE PLANET EARTH! However, as the game takes place on Mars, I'm actually contradicting myself, but what the hey!
Mason can blow ANY STRUCTURE on the Red Planet up, and the physics of the game are mind-bendingly cekap. Buildings collapse as they should, not breaking the base will NOT result in collapse, Crazy s*ite man! And you throw explosives... Which can blow EVERYTHING, including your comrades, UP!
And here's the best part... The landscape is HUGE!! If thou art a crazy gamer such as mineself and can shun humans for days whilst playing Fable 2, then this game is DEFINITELY for you! No drawbacks, except for the occasional bullet to the head courtesy of EDF Snipers! Some blood, but hey, in lieu of games like GTA IV and Fable 2 (think decapitated heads, limbs and even extremities), Red Faction: Guerilla is a Grimm Brothers fairy tale.
So if you are a nut, a bolt (or, as in some rare cases, a washer), or even a clown with a painted face and a penchant for rapping, this GAME is definitely for you!
On a scale of 1-10 upon the "I'd-hold-Mother Nature-in-to-continue-playing' scale, Red Faction gets an 8 out of 10 cups full!
Friday, 12 June 2009
Adieu despots
Cheers! Last post for ever and ever and ever! Just realised that blogging's not really my cuppa joe.
Friday, 8 May 2009
To all Blue-Collar Workers of the World
I do apologise for ever doubting. I've purged the evil from meself.
Let's do the twist!
Let's do the twist!
Thursday, 7 May 2009
Friday, 24 April 2009
The Awesomeness of Gavin
Hi there. I am a totally random person. I chanced upon this wonderful blog, and just KNEW that it MUST be dedicated as a shrine to all things Gavin. I hacked in, and here I am! For security purposes, I shall keep my identity a secret.
The humblest token of appreciation that this lowly scribe can afford, Master.
Note that I am totally random.
Gavin is wonderful. If he keeps going at this rate, he may turn into pure energy force, enough to power the whole world! He's an altruist at heart. If he was to power the world, there would be no requirement for any deforestation! No pollution! GENERATION UPON GENERATION WOULD OWE HIM!!!
Gavin is so great. He assists others, even when it may not be in their best interests for him to do so! A misanthrope is a word that should be thrust as far away as possible from this awesome chap.
He is love.
Why, just the other day, I saw him reviving a fish that had already been fried. Just the smallest example of the love that emanates from this lad.
The humblest token of appreciation that this lowly scribe can afford, Master.
Monday, 20 April 2009
51
Ahh, the 51st post! 50 has come and gone, and here is 51!
For this post, my dear readers, I'll actually make sense, it being a momentous occasion and all.
Today, I'll discuss the need for maturity. I do believe that I am, to a certain extent, immature. I mean, I'm bigger than the average Malaysian male, but I do not always get taken seriously. I believe I need to stop smiling, start glaring at all and sundry, and only THEN, whilst I get any respect. Dammit!
Far Cry 2, THE BEST GAME EVER! Patience, young padawan, tis' the key to the game!
Hope Pa likes the pen...
For this post, my dear readers, I'll actually make sense, it being a momentous occasion and all.
Today, I'll discuss the need for maturity. I do believe that I am, to a certain extent, immature. I mean, I'm bigger than the average Malaysian male, but I do not always get taken seriously. I believe I need to stop smiling, start glaring at all and sundry, and only THEN, whilst I get any respect. Dammit!
Far Cry 2, THE BEST GAME EVER! Patience, young padawan, tis' the key to the game!
Hope Pa likes the pen...
Tuesday, 14 April 2009
The Exod'd'us of McDonalds (see Abe's Oddysee and its sequel, Abe's Exoddus, for explanation as to spelling)
I love animals. Why do we communicate? If apes had computers, do you think they would be able to establish a new world order? Maybe on wrestling, where everything seems permissible.
YOU DECIDE HIS FATE! SAVE THE MUDOKKONS! OR SATIATE THE GLUKKONS! THE CHOICE IS IN YOUR HAND(S)! Ah, the wonders of being politically correct.Consider that we are, in essence, apes too. Hah, then what? Pshaw!
Check out Roberto Carlos' shots on Youtube. Poetry...pure poetry.
X-ing a paragrab. Or Politian? Maybe the Raven quoted something else.
Heres to Liverpool hammering Chelsea tonight!
And for all of you out there, call me Narcissus.
Friday, 10 April 2009
To the Love of My Life
No matter where you are darling, heres remembering the good times. Always know that I loved you unconditionally, and your return would have me ... happy.
Heres to you, Sandy. The only girl that ever truly loved me (excepting Moms, that is).
And to whomever took her, I forgive you.
J. Gavin
Sunday, 22 March 2009
The Difference Between Success and Failure
I love watches. If you have an automatic worthy of my time (pun intended), do drop a line.Liverpool are leading 3-0 at half time. HAHAHAHAHAHA! Watch out Sir (apply a thick Indian accent, inclusion of yaar is at the discretion of the reader)!!
Sunday, 15 March 2009
RIP Anne
You were my first love. I cherished the moments we had together. The last parting was memorable. I'm glad it was good. There were rough patches, but we got through them. Hope you smile down on me from doggy heaven. And to Uncle D., I hope that lime was used to make her a drink as well! Rest in Peace, dear Anne. Have a biccie on me.
(1999-2009)
Thursday, 5 March 2009
The I'ma Pose on Em', Then I'ma stroll on Em', I Called Ma Hook Up at the Store and Putta Hold On Em'
Yeah man, number 11 Space Jams... Whatever that means.
Did you know that the blue whale is THE SINGLE LARGEST ANIMAL to EVER EXIST???!!! From the birth of this world till present day! Ahhhh, and to all you mantarays out there whom think that there were bigger dinosaurs... I think you should try landing a plane. Oooooh, as luck would have it, theres an opportunity on your right!
Man, those Germans sure have some crazy ideas. I landed it anyhow, and all I got was Die Von Schnell von Schnell, Schaiza Von Schnell! Haha, those crazy French. Them and their socialist ways.
And I do think that America is headed down the path of socialism... First the banks, then carmakers... Next thing you know, healthcare!
Wheres those chains???!!!!
If only we could fly... Gavin Jay style!
The Sudanese President and Seremban
How do I explain myself? Well, at times, I do ameliorate, and when I do, you'd do well to stand around. It might rub off.
And I am now morbidly afraid of cricket, cricket related news, and b####### that are extremely indifferent towards the taking of anothers life.
The Mughazi camp, THATS where the Russian Missiles need be directed!
Sunday, 1 March 2009
Angelina, Angelina, Please Bring Down Your Concertina
Yeah, and you'd do well to grow up. Pshhhhhh.........Pfetttt....... Play a welcome for me, cos' I'll be coming from overseas.
Friday, 27 February 2009
The Awesomeness of Movies.. Call me Smith Castle
The two greatest movies EVER made....
The Punisher: War Zone, and Shoot Em' Up. Some quick facts, Shoot Em' Up had a body count of 103, and only slighly edged The Punisher: War Zone, which had a body count of 89.
The two lead actors, Roy Stevenson for The Punisher, and Clive Owen for Shoot Em' Up, are THE greatest actors EVER!!!
They used 14 gallons of fake blood (i.e., 63 LITRES) on the set of Shoot Em' Up. Both heroes are coolness incarnate...
My recommendation for BOTH movies... A solid 10/10 rating. The only possible qualm would not originate from the movies themselves, but rather from our censorship board. Its already 18SG, WHY in goodness' sake, do you censor crude language and violent scenes??? WHY??!!!
And for THE SHITTIEST Movie of 2008... Drum Roll Please!!!
TWILIGHT!! Heavens above, what with all the posing, and the vampire-drinking-goats-blood BS and long looks into each others eyes, you'd think this movie is more about an anorexic girl daydreaming than bloodthristy vampires! I mean, come on! When jumping around like an animal on steroids, meth and kickapoo is a viable option, and you throw in a non-requirement for sleep, plus super strength... I'd say that tis' truly a miracle that the vampires dont form a group of 10 and kick the Shite out of the 6,000,000,000 of us.
And heres a twist... Vampires have shiny skin. Thats how you tell them apart from human beings. Then explain Boy George, or for you contemporary cats out there, Michael Jackson! Are they nightcrawlers as well?? HMMMM???!!! Shiny skin, geeze louise man!
What next, a 'We-love-humanity-and-will-do-whatever-is-necessary-to-protect-them-despite-our-ancient-good-versus-evil-fights-and-the-fact-that-they-want-to-kill-us-and-all-our-descendants' attitude?
Sunday, 22 February 2009
He Just Stepped on my J's!!!
[Jermaine Dupri:]Uh[Nelly:]Oooooooh[Jermaine Dupri:]Uh haha[Nelly:]Uh Uh Listen[Jermaine Dupri:]Ya'll know what this is[Nelly:]Let's GoWe used to ditch school and head straight up to the mallJust so we can be the first ones with em onReturned to school by lunchtime, like "Nigga what now? "And today we in the club like, "Nigga, what now? "Ya better look downCause UhI know you see em[Jermaine Dupri:]Say what?I know you see em[Jermaine Dupri:]Say what?I know you see em[Jermaine Dupri:]I paid1000 for the jeans[Jermaine Dupri:]I paid200 for the shoesAnd uh Shucks a shirt, I'm a rock dez tatoosYou see my fitted mayneI represent da cribCause even at the cribI represent the crib[Jermaine Dupri:]II pop my grill in[Jermaine Dupri:]And IMight let my chain hang[Jermaine Dupri:]And IMight wrap my wrist, dang[Jermaine Dupri:]Go on derrty do the damn thangI get em free[Jermaine Dupri:]Say whatBut I pay, and if I want I rock a different Yurr of J's E'rrdayA different style, different color is a mustBut uhIt's all good until I get my first scuff and I'm likeCHORUS:Hell Naw aint no way[WHATS WRONG]Man he den stepped on my Jay'sstepped on my Jayshe den stepped on my Jay'sDese just came outHe den stepped on my Jay'sI got dem all [[GOT ALL]]But they dont get no runlike them 13 7's number 4 and the 1'sI like how they look with Dickieshow that Levi lay on emIf you aint got em when you see meYou definitly gon want themIf they new I gotta get them first old i just pop a boxhook em with a shirtAND DA MATCHING COLOR SOXSi think the coldest was the black on blackthe Leather with the Red bottomsI den order the #9You should of seem me when I got themI was in my house(in my house)Dancin in the mirrorstraight thinkin bout gettin outand how Im bout to kill emYou know You got a pair that nobody gotYou cant hold dem back homie you gotta rock!!My attic of Jordan fanatic lil morris blackmanand I know when there comeanother color errthing is happenin[[YA KNOW]]a different stylea different colorIs a mustBut Uh..Its ALL GOOD till I get my 1st scuffand im like[CHORUS]2XsHell Naw aint no way[WHATS WRONG]Man he den stepped on my Jay'sstepped on my Jayshe den stepped on my Jay'sDese just came outHe den stepped on my Jay's[Ciara]I-I-I see you lil' Daddy you look sexy with them j's onI pull up in the drop, step out with them thangs onI got me the black and pink and leather with the gray matching with the skinny jeans off with the shadesI know you see me (i know you see me)My Jeans be never slippinPaparazzi I might stop and take a picture in emYeah, we be fresh every dayAnd if youre lookin for me lil' daddy you can find me in the A[A, A, A]I Got the Metro 1's, then I bought the 2's and the 3's and the 4's..I had to order these you cant find them in the storesCalled up my stylist like 'shawty, Send more...'If you would, please, Send em to me out on tour [Ah, Ah, Ah]They'll be here any minute, man..See, I got that that connectWhere I can damn near get like anythingPose on em, Then imma stroll on em..I call my hook up at the store like put a hold on em...Them Carolina # 9's Matching patten Leather wrist band, Patten Leather #11's..We call em 'Space Jams'..spacejamsYou in my Space, man space manI'll Make you jump, manI'll make you Jump, Jump, Jump Jumpman..See on my weekends..My Jay's play a partIm rockin these to da club and these to the parkIm puttin these on now and these, here, tomorrow..A spurr-off in my carJust in case I catch a scarr..[CHORUS]Hell Naw aint no way[WHATS WRONG]Man he den stepped on my Jay'sstepped on my Jayshe den stepped on my Jay'sDese just came outHe den stepped on my Jay's
Friday, 20 February 2009
Cremation of Cockatoos (Dead, that is, you evil supporter of Vivisections!)
When children get wildly out of range, they need a good smack to get them back in (range, that is)I heard a funny story on the radio the other day. In a shopping mall, a little girl was sitting on her fathers lap and crying out "Daddy! Daddy! Daddy!" whilst staring about like a moose high on Coke (determine which substance you would rather for the context, but do note the capitalisation, which, in itself, indicates my bearing. Or does it?)
This, whilst the frustrated father repeatedly lamented with her... "Daddy is right here! Why are you crying? Daddy is right here?" Haha, such are the joys of childhood, where taking a crap any and everywhere isn't merely a privilege, but a RIGHT. However, I do believe that kids and parents nowadays dont get anywhere near the daily recommended, 'smack quota'. All this bleeding-heart BS about not smacking your kids... Its disgusting man!
I'm sure you concur.
Dont I miss crapping all over. Nevertheless, this weblog seems to achieve as much.
Like, zen man.
The Indifference Associated With Coelacanths
This is my favourite specimen when it comes to ichthyology. And, to some extents, etymology. I like the spelling and the way in which the word plays into historical advents. And how my brother does not lift a finger despite being an Organising person.
And I love the Burkina Fasoan's. Dr. Mohammad Ali promises me the billions of a client of his. His client died, together with his entire clan, and now, I'm a billionaire. See all you losers from the tinted glass of my bullet-proof limousine. I'll stream dollar bills, so just follow the carpet of green.
And what about cooking in a dude's house? I feel so cool man... Yeah, chilling with my homies yo, yo yo (make weird hand gestures)
And what about arranging whence there is class? Or if there are social divides, can there then be any divisions? Revolution, I say!!!
Zombie-killing, the main-stay of Zoey, Louis, Ol' Bill and Francis, the biker with a nerdy name!
Wednesday, 11 February 2009
Etiquette
Peter Post: Speaking a different language with co-workers is rude
Opinion by Peter Post
Tucson, Arizona Published: 12.18.2007
Q Is it rude to speak a different language in front of others at work? A few people at my job tend to speak to certain colleagues in their "native" language while in the presence of other co-workers (I put "native" in quotes because these individuals were born and raised in the United States and hold advanced degrees, and are fluent in both the language of their culture and that of their citizen country).
Sometimes they're talking about work-related issues and sometimes they aren't.
I myself understand their native language, but I believe it's inconsiderate to speak a language in front of others who don't understand it, regardless of whether the topic is personal or professional. They do this, by the way, whether the excluded person is a friend or not. I appreciate any advice you have to offer on this.
A This is clearly one of the most vexing issues received by this column. The problem in the situation you describe, from an etiquette perspective, is that anytime people engage in behavior that's exclusionary, it causes difficulty. Speaking in a language that others can't understand when you could be using an inclusive language is like whispering, and it's rude.
The conversation may be perfectly innocent, but from the viewpoint of the people being excluded, they feel like they're being treated rudely.
The issue is really one of consideration, of making the effort to understand how your behavior is affecting others and then asking yourself: "If I were on the receiving end of that behavior, how would I feel?"
Being excluded never feels good. If the intent of your co-workers is to have a private conversation, then they should move away and have the conversation in private. Otherwise, they should put off the conversation until later. My advice is to say something like: "Jim, I'm sorry I missed that. Did you have something you wanted to say?"
http://education.waikato.ac.nz/research/files/etpc/files/2007v6n2nar1.pdf
http://www.thedailyplate.com/forum/viewtopic.php?f=22&t=31205&st=0&sk=t&sd=a&start=15
http://seeker.dice.com/olc/thread.jspa?messageID=88449&tstart=0
http://blogs.msdn.com/oldnewthing/archive/2005/08/04/447655.aspx
Micahel Buble comes to mind... Think of the lyrics in 'Lost' sung by him, and you'll catch my drift, eh?
Opinion by Peter Post
Tucson, Arizona Published: 12.18.2007
Q Is it rude to speak a different language in front of others at work? A few people at my job tend to speak to certain colleagues in their "native" language while in the presence of other co-workers (I put "native" in quotes because these individuals were born and raised in the United States and hold advanced degrees, and are fluent in both the language of their culture and that of their citizen country).
Sometimes they're talking about work-related issues and sometimes they aren't.
I myself understand their native language, but I believe it's inconsiderate to speak a language in front of others who don't understand it, regardless of whether the topic is personal or professional. They do this, by the way, whether the excluded person is a friend or not. I appreciate any advice you have to offer on this.
A This is clearly one of the most vexing issues received by this column. The problem in the situation you describe, from an etiquette perspective, is that anytime people engage in behavior that's exclusionary, it causes difficulty. Speaking in a language that others can't understand when you could be using an inclusive language is like whispering, and it's rude.
The conversation may be perfectly innocent, but from the viewpoint of the people being excluded, they feel like they're being treated rudely.
The issue is really one of consideration, of making the effort to understand how your behavior is affecting others and then asking yourself: "If I were on the receiving end of that behavior, how would I feel?"
Being excluded never feels good. If the intent of your co-workers is to have a private conversation, then they should move away and have the conversation in private. Otherwise, they should put off the conversation until later. My advice is to say something like: "Jim, I'm sorry I missed that. Did you have something you wanted to say?"
http://education.waikato.ac.nz/research/files/etpc/files/2007v6n2nar1.pdf
http://www.thedailyplate.com/forum/viewtopic.php?f=22&t=31205&st=0&sk=t&sd=a&start=15
http://seeker.dice.com/olc/thread.jspa?messageID=88449&tstart=0
http://blogs.msdn.com/oldnewthing/archive/2005/08/04/447655.aspx
Micahel Buble comes to mind... Think of the lyrics in 'Lost' sung by him, and you'll catch my drift, eh?
Friday, 6 February 2009
The Making of Sense and the Sense of being Made
I had quite an interesting discussion the other day. ALL Mammals, whence fat, are cute. The ONLY exception to this rule would be people. Case in point;
As against;
I rest my case. And I shall now put my computer to rest, after it stored SUCh a hideous picture!
(As a disclaimer, I do NOT discriminate against horizontally superior people. I was just trying to get the message across that, at times, nature does seem quite unfair)
Cheers!
Saturday, 31 January 2009
Feng Tao the Indestructible Pot of Oil
Oil, such a promised liquid (or was that promising?) Can it be used for vaseline? You bet! And did Arsenal sign Arshavin, or did Arshavin just like it over there at Zenit st. Petersburg?
Go Liverpool Go!! Beat Chelsea! And when I catch a match of this calibre next year... I think I can then safely tick one item off of my 'Do Before I Die' list! Yeah!!! (there are only ten other items, one, amongst others, being owning an Audemars Piguet and finishing ALL the achievements in an XBOX Game at the same time)
And WHY??? You may ask??? Because I'm at a friends house? Does that justify a watch that costs as much as a house? Its an investment, touche! Yeah, as is a house. But thats landed. Like peanuts. I'd much rather buy a peanut farm. Hey, if the venture fails, at least you can eat your shares!
Or at least elephants would be able to do it.
And if a person shakes hands with their little finger, then you KNOW your shitting your pants man! At least thats what I've been told... Hope he doesn't read this!
Anyways, ding dong, the wicked witch is dead!
I do believe, that in time, this blog may ACTUALLY make sense! I'm gravitating towards that! Shite!
Go Liverpool Go!! Beat Chelsea! And when I catch a match of this calibre next year... I think I can then safely tick one item off of my 'Do Before I Die' list! Yeah!!! (there are only ten other items, one, amongst others, being owning an Audemars Piguet and finishing ALL the achievements in an XBOX Game at the same time)
And WHY??? You may ask??? Because I'm at a friends house? Does that justify a watch that costs as much as a house? Its an investment, touche! Yeah, as is a house. But thats landed. Like peanuts. I'd much rather buy a peanut farm. Hey, if the venture fails, at least you can eat your shares!
Or at least elephants would be able to do it.
And if a person shakes hands with their little finger, then you KNOW your shitting your pants man! At least thats what I've been told... Hope he doesn't read this!
Anyways, ding dong, the wicked witch is dead!
I do believe, that in time, this blog may ACTUALLY make sense! I'm gravitating towards that! Shite!
Tuesday, 27 January 2009
Somnambulism is all the vogue
Like dude, I just realised man, its all blue. Take a chill pill, relax, take it slow, go easy.
And you know what? I just realised that the walls arent getting enough love man. Simply put, we need to feed them more... Emulsion paint, you ask? No, I think regular sleep patterns would do.
Camphor oil, camphor oil, camphor oil! Tis' good for digestion and the progression of healthy rustlung...Or IS IT a medical condition? Diagnosis and prognosis please!
When Diamond Dallas Page comes through with a Texas Rattlesnake, run for the hills! But watch out for mutated cannibals, and eye-ed up hills. They can bite.
Punctilicious!
Monday, 26 January 2009
All the people whom died
This is the bad engrand posts. it is the much easier to the does. I is the likes the bad engrabnd, or, and some say, the engrishhhh. it is the very the nice. If i is the no makes the sense in this posts is the forgiven, as i is no manners kind one. is the bads...
And whence will it end???!!! When will the voices end??!! Just kidding, there are'nt any voices. But do keep in kind that messages in mamak shops can end up in code. You were warned. Try the deep fried chilli chicken, and if thats too cholesterol laden, try deep-fried chilli crabs! mmmm mmmm good!
Justification for My Lai? How about the Doha Debates? The issue was...
IS THE POLITICISATION OF ISLAM (I.E. ISLAMIC POLITICS) AT ODDS WITH THE WEST?
the question was NOT whether muslims should be in politics, it was whether islamic politics should be allowed! How can we allow people to be granted opportunities to advance in a political party based solely upon their religion???? It does not make sense!! What if Americans decided to solely pick based upon religion and/or race and/or creed? It would be totally unfair!!
So Joseph, I am diametrically opposed to you, and Majjid, we definitely think alike upon whether Islamic Politics have a place in the West. I would NOT want to be subjected to hudud laws which i DO NOT subscribe to, so there!
Cheers!
Sunday, 25 January 2009
The Kaleidoscope of Mantaray and the Dirty Bubble
When it began, it was in Vault 101, vuvushei! And then, Agent James Carter gained so much weight. Some say that he should have been better prepared for such a role, but what the heck, tis a comedy man!
And then, when George was a cabbie, it all went downhill. He was smacked around, but luckily, Mick Foley and his hunting rifle were handy.
What about Shai Shen?
THAT tattoo MUST have hurt!
But what about wrinkles? And fax machines? How about WWII? The chains must prevail if the Gears fail!!!
Hen pecked hen pecked hen pecked... I see the future!
Au revoir!
Saturday, 17 January 2009
The Putting in of Effort
I just figured something scary out today...
SOME PEOPLE ACTUALLY PUT EFFORT INTO THEIR BLOGS!!!
Betcha didn't see that one coming, din'cha??
Anyways, back to killing Mirelurks. You've gotta shoot em' in the face! And make sure Vera Weatherly and Bryan Wilks are really related, or you may have serious problems.
In relation to the Malaysian situation, it would appear that if Malaysian what is to be the zero-sum-game, then it would be very necessary for Frederice Muamba and Kevin Davies to get their act together.
I'm sure you would concur. As would Harold-Bob!
If they pass as in the field, does that not mean that I may be the next Boa Morte? Of course, not the serpentine variety. The more social one (of course, we discount garter snakes to make the above sensible)
A mutton chop would be good right now. But would Aunt Petunia agree? I dont think so! Lets ask Fawkes, and if that fails, the Doctor will know where registered land is to go!
Cheers!
Friday, 16 January 2009
The Intricacies of Making Sense
Why, you could ask, do we communicate (excluding excommunication, that is)? Is it to achieve a sense of justification for feeding upon that human corpse? Or is it due to an inane urge to replicate the works of another? And why are the Toa Payoh HDB Flats in Singapore ALWAYS the background for horror stories???
And as a forethought (not really fore, maybe the stern thought. Or the hull thought), don't I look good in this picture?
Hahahahahahaha!
Friday, 9 January 2009
The definition of a Mirelurk
When a Mirelurk attacks, make sure you aim for its face in V.A.T.S. But if it lurks in mires, then how does it pop up in the Nuka Cola Processing Plant? The only explanation would be that the cats of the Yao Guai were moving them about. Terrible bears.Then what about happy feet? Should they be allowed to tap tap tappity tap? What if vegetables were to become histrionic? Would you then know which watch to buy, or which person is the Brave one? Didn't think so.
Camphor oil is terrible when taken into the gathering of mice. 'WELCOME TO OUR GATHERATION!!!' Haha, and imagine putting THAT up on canvas. Should the Ishimura be reduced to rubble? I certainly think so.
Cantankerous ale tankards would prevent the manifestation of civil right of Ghouls and Smooth Skins. Or would it? I leave you with that thought dear reader... Please feel free to tell me if you used that pilot light, or you proceeded to blow poor Betty out of her sub-conscious EVIL mind!
Friday, 2 January 2009
An ode to the XBox
Where for art thou, XBOX-io? It is the East, and Fallout (3) is the sun!When I first bough my XBox three sixty,
I saw that it was,
A night so dreary.
I sat and pondered,
Why should I,
Bring this sleek white beast,To reside.
And as I slept and mused in my bed,
The angel of cynicism appeared and said;
My Dear Boy,
How foolish you are,
The XBox shall assist you, in your travels afar!
How? (I must have been out of my mind to say so)
I asked, as silly as I may,
Would it do so,
Turrah, Turray?
It will keep you when flesh fails,
But always remember, the Bible prevails!
And now it has dawned on me,
That come what may,
That the Bible comes first,
And only then, play!
An ode to the XBox 360
Gavin Jay Anand
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