Sometimes I feel as though my mind is full of too many things, and when I look at projects unfinished after 10 years, I think I might be right. But keeping up at something for 10 years? Yeah I think that’s pretty cool.
The project I’m currently reworking is a game I started back in high school. I started it as a “fuck you” to someone else thinking that I would make it just because I wanted to show off how much better I was than he was. Funny thing, I can’t even remember the guy’s name anymore. Though I do remember the circumstances. I was part of this group called O3, and we were making games, and another group called FAInd made a game, and I though, “I can do better than that”. And by ‘do better’ I meant ‘make a bloodier game’. Yeah, I know, I know.
I’ve changed a lot since then, but I’ve still kept at this little thing. The old one called it a labor of love. I guess it might be. I think the better mindset is that I just want a paycheck for this fucker if only to get me to actually finish it. Ok. I’ve procrastinated enough. Goodbye.
So I’ve been really into this Wii game called Pro Evolution Soccer 2008. Back in the day I got an older version of the game, and the roommates and I would play this game all the time. My roommates never played videogames, but they played Winning Eleven (the older version of PES). One time the Lumberjack was playing on his own against the computer, he got so psyched after a goal he ran and slid on the carpet. Bare shins. I imagine it hurt.
Anyways, here’s the review of it that I wrote for it. I know, I wrote something. I deserve a gold star.
My stomach is on the spin cycle, and my throat is on perma-dry. The two glasses of water I drank this morning are not helping. Though I can’t say I didn’t expect this to happen. Two more months. May 24th. That’s it.
I had to dig deep down inside myself to find the right words for this entry’s title, but I think I did pretty well. It encapsulates all of my feelings I feel about this. Zombies? Holy Fuck! Strippers? Shit Yes! Zombie Strippers? My brain might explode.
That they cast Jenna Jameson, a woman who is both a Stripper and a Zombie, is all I needed to know that this is an honest, artistic endeavor in film.
Now that that’s out of the way, I can talk about something more interesting like how I’m kicking little 12 year olds’ asses at Ikariam. Or that I’m writing for insomnia.ac’s blog. Or that I didn’t just puke all over my bar a couple days before thinking, “man I should ask for a raise”.
Oh life.
We played poker yesterday. I was pretty much dominating. Every hand I had that was good I played to utmost perfection. Then when I was heads up versus Loki, I just couldn’t handle myself. It was pretty ridiculous. He totally was egging me on, and I was totally eating it up. It also sucked that when I was ahead he sucked out. It reminded me of when I used to aggro High-Step. I think he got over it, so I think I can, too.
After the poker game the options were to practice our economic domination schemes, more poker, or get shit-faced.
I know. Hopefully the only person I let down was myself.
Everyday I am challenged with keeping my job.
After watching this I’ve decided Enrique Iglesias pretty much makes anything into something good. You could be chased by rocket powered flying dobermans out of a helicopter, but if Enrique was there everything would turn out just fine.
Like, ok, I bet he’d start by singing a song to pied piper the dogs. They’d bite onto your clothing slowing your free fall, carry you over to Cabo San Lucas, all the while making puppy sounds and licking your face. And then Enrique would change it up, and you’d have the dogs serving you a picnic full of wine, lobster, and college girls on spring break.
Also: Garfield sucks.
This was too good not to post. Not only does he fight bad guys, and do hot girls, but he saves surf rock from musical obscurity. Italian Spiderman, you are the best.
Colon. Get up and out of bed at a regular time. Get into bed at a regular time (if sleeping alone). Not sleep alone (at a regular time). Still get out of bed. Maybe gym, read, art more. Converse. More.
Self-improvement is masturbation. Now self destruction… – Tyler Durden, Fight Club
Maybe write, too.
My first real ex-girlfriend called her first real ex-boyfriend a “turbo dude” after he decided to make the lifestyle choice to get drunk and fuck as many girls as possible. I liked her saying that because it made me different than him, and that was always a good thing as far as girlfriends go. Funny thing turns out, I doubt she’d say much else of me now what with my going to bars, getting hammered, and hitting on girls all the time. What can I say, I’m driven.
We all do things according to how we see things done right. In our heads. If you think you’re doing the world a service by giving money to the bum on the street, good for you. If you think you’re encouraging laziness by giving money to the same bum, you probably are an asshole. Either way, ways of living. My ex used to eat meat until she saw a deer running into a fence over and over so she stopped. When I heard the story I thought eating the deer would put it out of its misery. When I think about it, there are a lot of dumb people that act just like that deer. Cue the people eating joke*.
Recently, I’ve had a dilemna. It has to do with my morals, of which I have few, being in conflict with my feelings, of which I have many. The funny dichotomy here is that I talk about the former a lot, and I’m very reserved on the latter. I would like to say some things like, “I’m not at fault,” or, “I didn’t do anything wrong,” but that only clears my moral ground. I know you feel bad, so I feel bad; I apologize. That’s all I have to say.
*Cannibalism is no laughing matter.
