The making of a real-life boomer

Impetus: death-row inmate’s last meal request revealed.

I didn’t even know that Georgia was a state that had the death penalty.  I guess I shouldn’t really be that surprised.

Anyway, the following is the list of food that a woman on death-row has requested to be her last meal; it’s evident that based on her mug shot as well as the contents of this list, she has every intention of exploding into a disgusting, miserable mess of bile, viscera, gore and digestive matter, post-mortem, much like a boomer from Left 4 Dead:

  • Cornbread
  • Side of buttermilk
  • Two Whoppers with cheese (with everything)
  • Two large orders of French fries
  • Cherry vanilla ice cream
  • Popcorn
  • Salad with boiled eggs, tomatoes, bell peppers, onions, carrots, cheese and Paul Newman buttermilk dressing
  • Lemonade

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I’m not really a fan of smokers

To some, it might seem like a trite thing; a dirty habit we know isn’t good for anyone, but it’s so socially accepted, that it’s easily capable of being overlooked. And then there are people like me who have seen worst-case scenarios of what smoking can do to a person, and I’d rather not see any more of those scenarios occur to people I know, much less anyone I’d want to get involved with.

A funny thing happened to me at the store the other day. I went in to pick up a few little odds and ends, and things for firing up the grill and throwing down some good old-fashioned ‘Murican hamburgers. I’m in line at the register, and for whatever reason, the woman in front of me has managed to chase off the cashier, and we’re standing there silently, with me not really trying to veil my annoyance at her actions which has ceased all forward progress of the process of making transactions. But for all intents and purposes, my items were on the belt, but were far too numerous to re-basket and move to another, actually moving checkout line.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see a petite girl enter the line I’m in, and put down a single item on the belt behind my items. I’m socially awkward enough around girls as it is, so I dare not look beyond the acknowledging-the-existence-of-another-human-being glance backward to see her. She’s kind of cute. A second later, what was likely her friends emerge, a pretty obvious couple, and rather . . . big folks.

In spite of my otherwise social shortcomings, I like to think I’m fairly astute in regards to my surroundings; there was plenty of garbled conversation, the couple friends sort of giggling, with the kind-of-cute girl repeatedly telling her friends to shut up, but in that teasing kind of way.

The big dude pipes up, and suddenly exclaims “I want what he’s having for dinner; some hamburgers,” referring to my pretty obvious items. This scenario is kind of coming together, and I’m fairly certain now that kind-of-cutie is notoriously single amongst her couple friends, and they’re teasingly spontaneously trying to wing for her, to me. I glance back and smile at the couple, while kind-of-cutie doesn’t look up.

Finally, the cashier returns, and for whatever reason, the woman who held up the line ends up walking away with no transaction completed. Finally, my items are finally processed and bagged. During this, I hear some mumbles amongst the couple, with kind-of-cutie telling them again to shut up. It’s at this time, big dude pipes up again, this time making a self-deprecating joke at their collective group how it takes three people to buy one item. I smirk at them again, again, kind-of-cutie isn’t looking back.

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Video game health restoration, in general

After I finished writing about herbs and health restoration in Resident Evil in a previous post, my mind drifted off like “yeah, herbs are so unorthodox and illogical, unlike health items in other video games wait

And so I began to think about health items in varying other games, and then inappropriately applying them with real world logic. Doing such basically takes a lot of fun and imagination out of them in one regard, but in another regard, creates a whole lot of funny theoreticals and imagery.

Like take for example, food. Food is pretty much one of the most commonly used things designated as a health restoration item in a wide expanse of video game genres. It’s mostly because food is awesome, and for all living creatures, a necessary staple for living. But apply some real world logic to how food is presented in video games, and then it makes absolutely no sense at all. If anything, eating food amidst the throes of combat should probably be considered detrimental in the big picture.

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A funny thing happened playing L4D last night

I swear, it’s like the plot of Rocky III.  Rocky has been fighting scrubs for so long that when Clubber Lang comes along, he gets owned.  Since Christmas, there has been such an influx of scrubs playing L4D that my brother and I have been getting a little soft.  Apparently last night was Clubber Lang night, and every match we seemed to play in was four Clubber Langs versus the two of us, and naturally, two scrubs who have no real talent at the game, resulting in us getting targeted and annihilated pretty much every match.  Needless to say, after a while, I begin to get a little frustrated.

A compulsion I have when playing L4D is that I often times look at the profiles of the people I’m playing with/against, when waiting for load screens, or during spawn time waits.  The game channels out my inner-ADD apparently.  During one of the games in which we were getting bested, I glanced at the profile of one of the people we were playing with, and interestingly enough, in his profile was boasting about how he was a Microsoft employee, who worked on the Kinect, as well as the XBOX version of MSN Messenger.  Furthermore, his profile had a little digital watermark above it with “Project Kinect” behind his peripheral information, giving him designation from the rest of us plebeians.  Additionally, his profile smugly boasted “I only accept friend requests from people I know.”

As a player, XBOX Employee wasn’t bad at the game, maybe a little too rogue for my liking.  However, the fourth player on our team was the typical scrub who completely bogged down the team altogether, and was primarily responsible for our downfall in the first two rounds.  Naturally, such results leads to the democratic desire to alleviate the team of such dead weight, prompting my brother and I to vote out the carcass.  Upon bringing up the vote screen, XBOX Employee consistently voted no, leaving the result as an unsuccessful stalemate, drawing my ire.  Eventually, after consistent losing thanks to retaining a heavy ballast, the dead weight finally left on their own accord.

I thought to myself “maybe we shouldn’t vote the XBOX Employee, he might have some mythical employee powers to smite us later,” but by the time the thought was done my brother had already pulled up the vote screen.  Without any hesitation, the thought was discarded, and I hit the start button, and the Smarmy XBOX Employee was unmercifully kicked from the game, just like any other pleeb and scrub we’ve disposed of like garbage.

Nobody fucks with our zbs.  Nobody.

Someone named “Tank” emailed me

So I’m trying to sell my old 27″ television, a DVD player, and an entertainment stand, as one cohesive package on Craigslist, since I’m currently trying to pimp by bedroom, and clear up some space, and make it all cool to my customization.  I put up at listing for all the aforementioned items, and since I’m actually asking for money, instead of giving things away for free, I don’t imagine to hear that many interested parties.  Regardless, since posting my items, I’ve received just one email – and their name happens to allegedly be “Tank.”

U have a contact #

Is the only thing that they wrote in this message.  I know I’m hard up for funds these days, but I don’t think I really want to do business with someone named Tank, lest they be an actual, Left 4 Dead Tank, which is like a partially invincible, steroid-raged induced gorilla zombie that can punch things really hard, and bring oh-so much destrucity to my world if I let them know where I live.  Granted, I’d know when Tank arrived, because I’d be able to hear the music, but since real life is what I’d say to be on advanced difficulty these days, knowing of Tank’s arrival would probably still be too late, and I’d probably end up with the front door smashed down, and be incapacitated immediately when Tank punched the entertainment center with the 27″ TV still on it, over me, knocking me over to bleed out.

Pimp my netbook: The quest for the appropriate gelaskin

So here’s life in a nutshell – I make tentative plans to go up to Virginia this weekend; see my sister, nephew and brother-in-law, and then go up to NOVA to see my family, and some friends. Elapsed timeframe, would have been three full, maybe four full days, since I wasn’t technically slated to be working anywhere at the time. Apparently, somewhere along the line I forgot that when I make travel plans, work opportunities spring up out of the blue like mummies popping out of sarcophagi, and now my travel plans have been slightly derailed, slightly modified, to mostly omit the whole Richmond part entirely. There will be other opportunities. All this being said, it’s back to WCW for a few more days, and a potential, slightly lengthier opportunity starting next week, if I’m lucky. I’d post the Bret Hart image again, but I didn’t like the overall load time of the animated GIF on my brog.

Since Thanksgiving, I haven’t played Left 4 Dead, or even rogged into my XBOX account. I literally have been playing Final Fantasy Tactics on a regular basis since, and have since gotten my core group of characters to level 99, and am slowly gradually making my way through the storyline, all while completing as many side-quests and missions as possible and growing frustrated with the now-unnecessary random encounters that take no less than 5-15 minutes a piece.

While I’m waiting for my laundry to dry, since if I go downstairs, the Piss1 will inevitably be fired up, and my ass will be planted playing more FFT, I’ve opted to stay up here and actually write; I had some sparks of inspiration over the weekend, stemming from the surprising actual victory of Virginia Tech over Florida State for the ACC championship, but that fizzled out quickly, and I might be a tad burnt out on writing about sports for the interim. So, the topic of the day is that I want to get a gelaskin for my netbook, so that everyone who sees me on it can get an idea of how to prematurely judge me based on my choice of hardware artwork. That being said, it’s been a little more difficult of a selection process than I had imagined; I had almost considered going with one of the pre-made skins, but leave it to me to not be contented by what’s readily available, and desire my own. Although there was a pretty snazzy skin of Vincent Van Gogh’s Starry Night that I’m quite keen on, but that sets me up to be an “artsy” type of person that would likely run into a person who knows way more art history than I ever cared to have paid attention to in school.

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A Holiday Tradition

Two years ago saw the weekend of Thanksgiving completely rendered lazy and nerdy, as Jen and I spent the entire weekend doing absolutely nothing but play Left 4 Dead.  Last year saw the weekend of Thanksgiving completely useless and lazy as just about all the time was spent playing Left 4 Dead 2.  Needless to say, it’s kind of been tradition to more or less do absolutely nothing but sit around and play video games during the weekend after Thanksgiving, in our house.

Seeing as how there was no Left 4 Dead 3, this year Jen and I were forced to go our separate ways.  Since we don’t really have any good co-op games, and I just didn’t really feel much like playing a shooter or anything that required that much thought, Jen opted to finish out the original BioShock, and I decided to seek, find, and blow the dust off of an old copy of the original Final Fantasy Tactics, and go down memory lane with that one.  The fact that there’s only one television in the living room was irrelevant, because the old 27″ tube and Piss1 fit fine in the other corner of the room.  And I didn’t feel like I was getting short-changed by not getting the 50″ plasma, because quite frankly, playing FFT on anything but a 3:4 tube television, and getting frustrated at enemy Chocobos, just doesn’t seem fitting.