Friday, October 31, 2008

Happy Halloween... I Think

I don't ask much of trick or treaters.

They show up at my door and, assuming they're wearing some semblance of a costume, I'll give them some candy.

I don't even bother pointing out canonical inaccuracies in their costumes.

All that I ask is that they at least make the effort.

Give me something.

I'm not asking for incredibly detailed or intricate costumes.

Just wear a damned mask or something.

All evening, I've been answering my door only to find teenagers wearing regular clothes and expecting candy.

Did I start a food bank or something when I wasn't looking?

At that point, you're not really trick or treating.

You're just begging for food.

The only difference is that you've taken the initiative of going door to door begging.

If you show up at my door dressed in regular clothes, I'm going to show you my costume.

My costume is a guy who doesn't give candy to retards.

My wife likes to dress up as a door getting slammed in your face.

My "favorite" of all our trick or treaters was a girl.

I use that term loosely. She looked WAY too old to be out asking for candy.

What she was wearing couldn't be considered a costume in even the most liberal sense of the word.

And the best part?

She was smoking.

I'm not even making this up.

As I started to ask what the hell she was supposed to be, she blew smoke in my face and asked for candy.

She freaking asked for candy.

What the hell is wrong with people?

Halloween is not a difficult concept to grasp.

It's motherf&%@in' Halloween.

You dress up, you get candy.

That's it.

If you don't dress up, then it's not Halloween.

It's just a regular Friday.

I don't open my door and give people candy on a regular freaking Friday.

Wear a damned costume or leave me the hell alone.

If you'll excuse me, I have to go eat tiny little Snickers bars until I calm down.

Wednesday, October 29, 2008

Fan Pack 1 GOOOO!

Okay, to ensure my donator's get their money's worth, I've decided to pull out all the stops this time.

You'll get not one...

Not two...


I've divided the pack up into three parts and you'll get one each day from now until Friday.

The first pack, currently on its way to your inbox contains four new articles:

- MORE Things I hate
- [GM]Dave's Guide To Hating Everything
- [GM]Dave's Video Game Review - Star Wars: The Force Unleashed
- The new edition of The MMORPG Survivor Guide

Tomorrow's pack will be entirely dedicated to everyone's favorite Goblins: Smithy, Shaman, and Pathfinder.

And Friday's pack will be all about [GM]Dave and Susan.

It's three days of [GM]Dave goodness.

I'm pretty sure this is what heaven is like.

Except with more swearing and people getting eaten by dragons. I don't think people get eaten by dragons in heaven.

Then again, I've never actually read the bible to the end...

Tuesday, October 28, 2008


People amaze me.

Do you know the first thing most players do when faced with a problem?

Anyone with half a brain would know the answer is "look in the damned manual".

That's why it's there. It's full of useful information.

Would you be at all surprised to know that most players don't bother?

Of course you wouldn't.

Rather than trying to figure out the answer to a problem, the first thing they do is send a GM call.

They don't even bother to check the internet.


You know between the countless porn sites, there's actually some useful stuff on there.


Okay then. You better hurry up and make that completely retarded GM call then.

I do so love those.

I realize my job description includes helping players. My supervisor keeps mentioning it at those silly "performance reviews".

And "disciplinary meetings".

Man, he really needs to get over that.

Just because I'm supposed to help players doesn't mean I'm your personal wikipedia or anything.

See, I'm supposed to help people with real problems.

They get stuck behind a table? I'm there.

Someone steals their sword or whatever? Sure. Why not?

You haven't been eaten by a dragon recently? I'm on it.

It is not part of my job to help you:

a) save time by looking it up for you

b) continue being retarded

I'm not an enabler.

So, when you send that moronic GM call, you're really not giving me much of an option. You're risking my job security by asking me to do things that fall outside my regular duties.

At least... That's what I say at those "disciplinary meetings".

This morning, I was at my desk working on some important reports.

Red six on a black seven...

What? Like you've never done it before.

I'm just about to finish when...


Yay. A player making a GM call.



... Hoo.

You never know though. Maybe this would be a really good call that would make it all worthwhile.

GM Call Description: Cavernous Maw not working. Stuck.

So... No then.


For those of you unfamiliar with the Wings of the Goddess expansion, it included several portals known as Cavernous Maws that could transport you to the past.

Sounds awesome, right?

I know.

Here's the thing though. When you try to leave the past, it spits you out a random Maw. That's the only maw you can use until you unlock another one.

Unfortunately, due to a lack of attention or an excess of inbreeding, many players neglect to learn this important fact. They go back to the same Maw they used the first time and it doesn't work anymore.

We get calls about this every day.



Google it. I dare you.

If you even bother, you'll learn all of this in a matter of seconds.

Apparently, some players can't afford to waste those precious seconds.

These must be the same retards who eat Gamer Grub.

Seriously, how valuable is your time? You're sitting in the middle of a random area trying to get to the past.

I'm sure you can take a minute.

Hell, Marty McFly took time to play guitar at a high school dance. I think you'll be safe if you log out for a minute to check Google.

We'll try and hold the servers together while you're gone.

Anyway, now I'm stuck dealing with someone too stupid to use Google.

Think about that. Too stupid to use Google.

The mind reels.

Still, he's going to keep making calls if someone doesn't talk to him. Someone had better get on that.





I log in and warp to his position. Sure enough, he's standing in front of the Cavernous Maw clicking on it repeatedly.

You know what works? Clicking on it three thousand times.


[GM]Dave>> Hail, Adventurer.
[GM]Dave>> I understand you're having trouble getting to the past.
Player>> Yeah.
[GM]Dave>> Have you properly calibrated your Flux Capacitor?
[GM]Dave>> Those things can be tricky.
Player>> What?
[GM]Dave>> Try downloading new drivers.
Player>> What are you talking about?
[GM]Dave>> Time travel.
[GM]Dave>> Duh.
[GM]Dave>> How else would you get to the past?
Player>> Well, you're supposed to click on these things.
[GM]Dave>> Woah, woah, woah.
[GM]Dave>> Slow down there, Doc Brown.
[GM]Dave>> Click what on the who now?
Player>> I was here yesterday.
Player>> I clicked on this spot.
Player>> Then, I went to the past.
[GM]Dave>> ...
[GM]Dave>> Sir, are you on any medications I should know about?
Player>> Are you going to help me or not?
[GM]Dave>> Probably not.
[GM]Dave>> That seems to be a running theme with me.
Player>> Can I speak to another GM please?
[GM]Dave>> No problem.
[GM]Dave>> Would you like one from the past or the future?
Player>> Uhh...
Player>> The future I guess.
[GM]Dave>> Okay.
[GM]Dave>> Hold on one second.
[GM]Dave>> ...
[GM]Dave>> Hail, Adventurer.
[GM]Dave>> How can I help you today?
Player>> I said I wanted to speak to another GM.
[GM]Dave>> You are.
Player>> Huh?
[GM]Dave>> This is future me.
[GM]Dave>> You were talking to past me.
Player>> I'm... I'm a little confused.
[GM]Dave>> Only a little?
[GM]Dave>> That must be a good day for you.
Player>> I asked to speak with a GM from the future.
[GM]Dave>> I am a GM from the future.
Player>> I don't understand.
[GM]Dave>> Well, you know how you were talking to me?
[GM]Dave>> Like a minute ago?
Player>> Yeah...
[GM]Dave>> That was past me.
Player>> How do you get a "past you"?
[GM]Dave>> Well, that was the past.
[GM]Dave>> I thought that part was pretty self-explanatory.
Player>> But I want to speak to someone else.
[GM]Dave>> I am someone else.
Player>> No, you're not.
[GM]Dave>> Sure, I am.
[GM]Dave>> Would I lie to you?
Player>> ...
[GM]Dave>> Yeah, I probably would.
Player>> Can I speak to another GM please?
Player>> PLEASE?
[GM]Dave>> No problem.
[GM]Dave>> Would you like one from the past or the future?
Player>> PAST!
[GM]Dave>> Are you sure?
[GM]Dave>> I know this guy from the future...
[GM]Dave>> He's a little annoying, but...
Player>> No, thank you.
Player>> Past please.
[GM]Dave>> Okay.
[GM]Dave>> Unfortunately, you can only get a past GM...
[GM]Dave>> By going to the past.
Player>> And how do I do that?
[GM]Dave>> Well, you're supposed to click on these things.
[GM]Dave>> Oh...
Player>> Is there anything else I can do?
[GM]Dave>> Well...
[GM]Dave>> Have you properly calibrated your Flux Capacitor?

He logged out after that.

I was sad. I didn't even get a chance to yell "1.21 GIGAWATTS!"

So, to save himself the trouble of spending one minute looking something up, he wasted five minutes talking to me.

And then several days or weeks trying to get his credit report straightened out.

That reminds me... Note to self: destroy player's credit.

I'm not wikipedia. I'm not.

Stop asking me stupid questions.

I apologize if this doesn't apply to you. Everyone knows the majority of gamers are actually very intelligent people.*

* Citation needed.

Monday, October 27, 2008

I'm Working, I'm Working

I am totally working on the fan pack tonight. That's all I'm doing.

I'm totally not watching old episodes of Heroes.

Seriously... I'm writing very funny stuff.


Why don't you people trust me? What have I ever done to make you not...

Oh, yeah. The whole rampant lying and hating and torturing...

Basically, everything up to this point.


I should work on that.

Not the lying and hating and torturing. I love that part.

I just need to work on not getting caught.

Saturday, October 25, 2008

Ding Dong...

What an absolutely fabulous day.

Now, I'm not usually a morning person. Unless I haven't gone to sleep yet, there's really no reason to be up in the morning.

But today... Today was different.

When I woke up this morning, it was like the world was just a little bit brighter. Birds were singing. Children were laughing.

It was a new day.

I wasn't quite so sure what put the extra spring in my step. I hadn't slept any better than usual and nothing major happened last night.

Hell, I hadn't even started drinking yet.

Still, I knew today was special.

Then I saw the calendar. Saturday, October 25th.

And it was circled in red.

That's when I remembered... Jack Thompson was officially disbarred today.


Did anyone else just breathe a sigh of relief?

Let me say that again.

Jack Thompson was officially disbarred today.

It's funny. The world actually seems like a nicer place today. I feel better now, raising a child in a world where Jack Thompson's no longer a lawyer.

Man, what a great day.

Since I was already up and in such a great mood, Susan and I decided to have a special day together to celebrate.

We considered having a party, but that seemed like too much work.

Actually... Anything that involves work seems like too much work.

I barely work when they actually pay me. I'm sure as hell not doing extra work at home.

But we had to think of a way to show our appreciation and respect for such an important day.

So... We played video games.

Yeah, we do that every day.

That thought occurred to us.

Instead of playing our usual games *coughFFXIcough*, we decided to run a Jack Thompson marathon playing a bunch of the games that he's tried to get banned.

We started out with a little Bully.

Honestly, the game was incredibly offensive. The mild violence and suggestion of school-related fighting sent me over the deep end.

It was almost enough to flush my entire career down the toilet.

Luckily, it turned out I wasn't actually retarded.

Then we moved on to a nice GTA medley. We took turns driving around the cities and running over random citizens.

It really didn't matter which game we played. It basically became a competition to see who could kill the most people before getting caught by the police.

I won.

After several hours of playing, we decided there was only one game we could end the day with.



This is one sick game. You literally get points for how horribly you can kill other people.

Sadly, pet dragon was not an option.

To make it a little more interesting, we started making up our own sound effects. It was like America's Funniest Home Videos except you replace the getting hit in the gorin with stabbing someone in the neck.

Every time we killed somebody, we'd go Sploink or Splat or something. Then we'd laugh and laugh.

And they say video games desensitize people...

By the time we decided to call it a day, we were both exhausted. We'd killed enough people to populate a small country and we'd had a great time doing it.

What a great day.

Happy Jack Thompson disbarment day, everybody.

Wednesday, October 22, 2008

I Want Change

So this afternoon, I decided it would be a lovely day to go for a nice stroll.

Okay, I'm lying. Susan took the car and I had to go somewhere. This required me to actually go outside.

I'm walking down the street, minding my own business, when this guy sitting on the sidewalk asks me for some change.

I hadn't really noticed him there.

That's not a comment on homeless people. That's a comment on people.

I try not to notice people unless I specifically have to. Unless you are between me and something I want, I probably don't know you exist.

Everyone else is just basically furniture to me.

You can, therefore, understand how disconcerting it would be when one of those pieces of furniture asks me for some pocket change.

At first, I just considered saying no or keeping on walking. Just ignore the guy.

I couldn't do that. Nobody wants to be that guy.

Sure, I could have said I didn't have any change, but then you have to walk really carefully so they don't hear you jingle.

So, with no other option available, I decided to give the guy some change. I reach in my pocket, pick out the last two quarters I had and went to drop them in his cup.

That's when I noticed the guy's cup was half full of change.

And I was giving him my last two quarters.

This was a dilemma for me.

I mean, obviously the guy was homeless. He's sitting on the street asking people for change with a little cup.

On the other hand, he's got more money than me.

Hell, I don't even have a cup.

I noticed a definite lack of cup.

Honestly, I had to stop for a minute and ask myself what the best course of action would be.

Do I give the guy the change?

Or do I keep it for myself?

Really, being a good person, there was only one thing I could do...

I asked him for some change.

Then he got up and walked away. He just ignored me.

I'm sure I heard him jingling as he walked away.


Tuesday, October 21, 2008

Okay, Okay. I Get It.

Remember last month when I said someone would have to remind me when it came time for the new fan pack?

That was a joke.

This morning, I opened my e-mail to find several e-mails from readers reminding me that it's almost time for the next fan pack.

Some were nice. They said things like "Hey, I just wanted to help remind you" or "Hey, I thought I would mention..."

Some were not nice. They said things like "Hey, get off your lazy ass and get to work."

In their defense, I was on my ass and it has been described as a lazy one.

Some of them... Well, some of them were trying to sell me penis enlargement products.


I'm hoping that's not related to the fan pack.

Anyway, to ease the minds of my helpful readers (and hopefully slow the tide of e-mails), I am, yes, aware that the fan pack is due next week.

Usual rules apply. Anyone who donates $5 or more since the last fan pack becomes a member of the official [GM]Dave fan club.

Fan club membership includes:

- a fan pack filled with exclusive stories, articles, and whatever pictures I can cobble together in Paint

- my eternal gratitude*

- a place aboard the escape craft I'm fashioning to locate and colonize our new planet, Daveonia**

* gratitude may not be eternal

** hot chicks get preferential seating

Also, I thought this would be a good time to answer some related questions:

1) I have an idea for a theme week...

Yes, the theme week offer will continue. I've been finding it very interesting to discuss things that readers want to know about.

The highest donator will be given the opportunity to create their own theme week idea and I will write about whatever they choose.

You want a week of me making fun of WoW? You got it.

Honestly, the whole thing gives me the chance to broaden the horizons of the blog and rant about a whole new variety of things that piss me off.

Plus, some of the ideas I've heard sound very interesting.

Except that one about Furries.


2) Can I possibly get older fan packs that I missed because [insert reason here]?

That's not a problem. Just let me know what packs you have missed and I'm sure we can work something out.


Wait... Did I type out the evil laugh again?



3) How can I be awesome like you?

You can't.


* Not really sorry

So, one week from today (roughly), the new fan pack will be sent out. I've spent the month working on some ideas and I've got some great ideas for the fan pack.

This could be the best one yet.


Why are you still reading this?

Shouldn't you be donating?

All the cool kids are doing it.

Sunday, October 19, 2008

There Are No Words...


I don't even know how to describe this.

You just have to... Just watch it.

FFXI Free Trial - Japanese Commercial

Your sanity may or may not survive.

Good luck.

Saturday, October 18, 2008

Theme Week - [GM]Dave's Childhood - Vol. 7

To bring this lovely theme week to a close, there was really only one story I could tell.

So far, I've related funny stories and embarrassing stories. I've talked about friends and games and whatever else came to mind.

I haven't yet told you about the worst thing I ever did.

The Arthur thing?

Nah. As bad as that story sounds, Arthur could be quite a dick.

No, no. The worst thing I ever did was epic in both length and scope.

And consequence.

*ominous crash of thunder*

I was in grade 6. The school year had just started and because of classes being reassigned, I was in a class away from all of my friends.

This, of course, meant I hated school.


I was already far enough ahead of my class that school was boring me to tears. Taking my friends away was just adding insult to injury.

After a few weeks of trudging through my days, I decided I'd had enough of school.

So... I started playing sick.

I started complaining of terrible, terrible stomach pain.

A day here, a day there.

Then a few days at a time.

Then a week.

You might be wondering how exactly I got away with this.

I committed myself to the role. I cried and threw up.

I even spent hours in the hospital while my parents explained the situation to concerned doctors.

Yeah. I took this shit seriously.

Then each morning, I would stay home and play video games with the volume turned down. That way my mom wouldn't hear me.

This went on for two months.

It was perfect.

Well... Perfect except for one thing.

I was still pretty young and still, at that point, subject to a conscience. Each and every lie weighed heavy on me and cause me a lot of stress.

The stress just got worse and worse as time went by. I was so certain they'd figure it out and I'd be in a world of trouble.

Do you know what stress does?

Stress causes ulcers.

Yeah. I was probably the only eleven year old in the world to develop three stomach ulcers.

I faked stomach aches for so long that I developed ulcers that caused stomach pain.

It seems God is not without a sense of irony.

I went from faking symptoms to having my stomach turned inside out. Every day, I was in excruciating pain.

This lead to me spending two weeks in a children's hospital.

Man, that was a fun two weeks.

I remember the time they tried to put my IV in.

See, I had a severe aversion to needles. I hated the friggin' things.

So, when the nurse came in and told me they were going to stick a needle in the back of my hand, you can understand that I was not the calmest individual.

There was much screaming.

They stuck the first one in and pulled the needle portion out. This, as you might expect, sent blood spurting over my bed.

Nurse>> Hmmm...
Nurse>> We're not getting enough flow.
Dave>> There's blood spraying over half the bed!
Dave>> Is this a distance competition or something?!

She ended up having to try THREE more times. By the end, my bed looked like a scene from a horror movie.

Nurse>> There.
Nurse>> That wasn't so bad.

If it weren't for the blood loss, I'd have punched her in the face.

The whole two weeks were a living hell.

Every morning, EVERY MORNING, they brought me a new menu. It was a little green card that had meal choices and you could pick what you wanted that day.

I would spend a great deal of time on that card, sculpting exquisite meals.

And then, every meal, they'd bring me the same damned thing. Special K for breakfast, toast for lunch, and some strange mystery meat for supper.

Let's not forget the lime jello.

Every freakin' meal. Lime jello.

Apparently, ulcer patients are put on a special menu.

Apparently, no one mentioned this to the guy who BROUGHT ME A MENU EVERY DAY!

That's just plain cruel.

And I know cruel.

This went on for two weeks.

Except for the IV day.

My menu was soaked in blood.

No, I'm not making that part up.

Now that I'm older, I can understand the irony of the whole situation.

But inside me... Inside me there's an angry sixth grader who doesn't appreciate it.

He also F&%#ING hates green jello.

Friday, October 17, 2008

Theme Week - [GM]Dave's Childhood Vol. 6

Man, this has been a long week.

Who knew digging through your deepest, darkest memories would be so exhausting?

And this is just the stuff I haven't been able to erase through excessive drinking.

Still, as much work as this has been, I must say I've enjoyed the trip down memory lane. It's kind of fun remembering all the trouble I got into.

And on we go...

I already told you how I got my first NES.

What I didn't tell you about is what happened afterwards.

Oh, don't get excited. It was nothing bad.

Given the method in which I obtained my ill-gotten system, I was a little out of luck when it came to getting more games. I was pretty much stuck with the old Super Mario Bros./Duckhunt game that came with it.

You'd think I would have gotten bored eventually.

You'd be wrong.

I played the hell out of that game.

And as much fun as Mario was, you can only spend so much time running around stomping on turtles before it gets a little repetitive.

Run, run, run, jump. Run, run, run, turtle. Run, run, run, flag.

Sure, I played it again and again and again, but it wasn't really Mario I focused my energy on.

It was Duckhunt.

I'm not sure what it is about being a young boy, but anything that says "Here's a gun. Shoot the shit out of stuff." is alright with us.

Those ducks didn't stand a chance. I spent so much time practicing, it was a little scary.

Sure, the first few games involved my pressing the zapper up against the screen and shooting them point blank, but still.

After a few months, I had honed my skills to a science.

All I needed was a man in black fleeing across a desert.

If you didn't understand that reference, shame on you.

Once I tired of shooting ducks, I moved on to the clay pidgeon shooting range.

I would put the zapper in my holster (read: pocket) and wait until the pidgeons were just about to fly out of range.

Then I would blow them to pieces.

I was good.

Damned good.

Then, at the height of my training, I challenged my father.

I almost laughed as he held the gun for the first time. He looked so awkward holding it.

Ten minutes later, he set the zapper down and walked away.


He'd beaten me.

Standing there, defeated, I set my mind on one goal: beating my father.

I made it my mission to destroy him.

Destroy him at Nintendo.

What? I was young?

If I had anything better to do, I would have been doing it.

I spent weeks working. My hands became trained weapons.

Okay, I'm being melodramatic. My hands were pretty fast.

When I felt I was ready, I challenged him again.

And got my ass handed to me again.

Half way through our game, he said he had to use the bathroom. Then, he walked away.


He really left me with no choice.

When he came back from the bathroom, he found me smiling.

No, no. This story doesn't involve a pellet gun.

Though, that would have been AWESOME.

But I was ready for him.

He grabbed the zapper and prepared for another round of shooting ducks out of the air.

Then his duck had a seizure.

Seriously, the duck was flying all over the place. He was jittering like a three year old on speed.

Dad couldn't even get close.

When my turn came, the duck returned back to his normal, steady flight patterns.

It was too easy.

Dad took the zapper out of my hand for his turn.

And the duck freaked out again.

Dad>> What the heck?!
Dad>> What is going on with my duck?
Dave>> I don't know what you mean.
Dad>> He's having a fit or something.
Dad>> LOOK AT HIM!!!
Dad>> He didn't do that for you.
Dave>> Maybe it's a glitch or something.

Then he tried to shoot that dog.

In my Dad's defense, that dog is an asshole.

After a few games, my Dad threw the zapper down in disgust and stomped out of the room saying something about an epileptic duck and that friggin' dog.

It's funny... He wasn't whistling.

That made me smile.

In the end, I learned two very important things:

1) if you put your mind to it, you can overcome any obstacle

2) the NES control pad actually controls the duck

Thursday, October 16, 2008

Theme Week - [GM]Dave's Childhood Vol. 5

[GM]Dave's First Date

I can't believe I'm about to tell you this story.


As sad as it is, I didn't ask a girl out for my first date. She asked me.

See, I was in that crucial phase between where girls are full of cooties and where girls are all you think about.

Honestly, the whole thing was rather surreal.

This may sound bad, but I didn't really like the girl. I'm not saying I disliked her or anything, but I'd never really been interested in her.

One of those friend of a friend deals.

I'm pretty sure all the guys who are reading this and were once that age know exactly what I'm talking about.

Given that I wasn't particularly interested in her and that I was still some time away from being obsessed with the entire female gender, I probably would have said no.

Then she mentioned going to the movies.

This made me pause. Even though the whole date thing didn't seem that appealing, perhaps it would be a good movie.

I told her I would let her know the next day.

I went home and told my mom the story. She thought it would be a great idea and told me to call her right away.

Since I was still leaning toward saying no, I decided to ask mom if she knew what the movie was about.

Mom>> Oh, I heard about that one.
Mom>> It's about a bunch of killers chasing a family.
Mom>> Really gross.

She basically could have said "Oh, hey! This movie is made of awesome!"

The next day, I found the girl and told her I wanted to go.

This all sounds pretty mundane, right?

See, you're forgetting the part where my mother is an evil, evil, EVIL woman.

Turns out the movie that was all about "killers chasing a family" was actually


I'm going to put her in a home someday.

Not even a nice one. I'm going to watch Sixty Minutes until they do one of those specials about terrible nursing homes.

She's going in that one.

So, I show up to the movie already incredibly pissed off.

That's when I see her.

And her friend.

Dear Penthouse...

Wait, wait. That was a joke.

Remember, I was still too young to understand the sheer awesome of this happening.

I immediately ask her what's going on.

Her>> Oh...
Her>> This is a double date.

No, I didn't misunderstand the situation and forget to bring someone. She thought it was perfectly normal to bring a second girl along with her and call it a double date.

Apparently, her definition of double date also includes talking to her friend the whole time and giggling while I sat there and watched a movie about Richard Pryor moving.

That's two hours of my life, I'll never get back.

This couldn't possibly get any stranger.

Then, when it was all over and we were waiting for our parents to pick us up, they kissed me.

Both of them.

Then ran away.

See, this... This is why we don't understand women.

Shit like this.

I mean, what the F&%#?

So, I'm standing alone, in a parking lot at night, having spent two hours watching a terrible movie, and then somehow managed to get my entire brain screwed with by not one, but two girls.


On an unrelated note, is therapy expensive?

Wednesday, October 15, 2008

Theme Week - [GM]Dave's Childhood Vol. 4

Ian and I...

Since everyone liked yesterday's glimpse into my childhood escapades, I thought I'd give you another one.

And, on a related note, Arthur turned out just fine. He spent some time in the hospital, but he made a full recovery.

On the good days, he doesn't drool as much.


Ian and I decided to rent a Super Nintendo and stay up all night playing games.

What can I say? We were young and really had nothing better to do.

This seemed like as good a plan as any.

So, with a nice rented SNES hooked up to the TV in our basement, we spent the better part of the night defeating monsters and racing cars.

I know this part doesn't seem interesting.

It wasn't.

Then, about 8 in the morning, Ian stands up, grabs my pellet gun and goes to the nearest window.

No explanation. No reason.

He just grabs the gun and goes to the window.

I'm not sure exactly why my parents thought buying me a pellet gun seemed like a good decision, but I can say for certain that giving Ian a gun was a very bad idea.

No good would come from this.

He opens the window, leans out, and starts firing.

I, of course, was very concerned about the interesting turn of events. What if someone got hurt? What if he was shooting at a neighbor?

Honestly, the concern almost made me pause my game.

Shut up. It was Contra III.

Then, as quickly as the whole thing began, it ended. He pulled the gun in and closed the window.

He was remarkably nonchalant about the whole event.

Dave>> Do I want to ask what you were doing?
Ian>> ...
Ian>> Probably not.
Dave>> I had a feeling.

And we left it at that.

We continued playing Contra and no one said anything about a gun.

Until two hours later.

Dad>> Hey.
Dad>> Did you guys hear someone shooting a gun or something?
Dave>> No.
Ian>> No.
Dave>> No.
Dad>> That's weird.
Dad>> I could have sworn I heard a gun.

And we left it at that.

We continued playing Contra and no one said anything about a gun.

Until half an hour later.

Dad>> Someone shot out the neighbors car window.
Dad>> Are you sure you guys didn't hear anyone shooting?
Dave>> No.
Ian>> No.
Dave>> No.
Dad>> Must have been some damned kids or something.

Okay. It looked like we may have gotten away with it.

Dad>> It's funny though...


Dad>> It looks like the bullet came from this direction.


Dad>> If you look at how the glass broke, it had to.

Great. My Dad couldn't program a VCR, but suddenly he turns into Grissom.

Dad gave me a look.

THAT look.

He knew we'd done it. As a matter of fact, by the look on his face, I knew he thought I did it.


Still smiling, I grabbed Ian and hustled him back to the basement. We then had a frank discussion about morals and responsibility.

Actually... I just punched him repeatedly in the arm explaining in very clear terms just how retarded he was.

Do you know the great part about going to someone else's house and shooting out the neighbor's window?

He gets to leave.

Once we thought the coast was clear, Ian grabbed his bike and took off for home. It had been a few hours and, despite my earlier fears, it looked like we had gotten away with it.

With a relieved sigh, I walked back down to the basement.

And there was my Dad.

Holding my pellet gun.

Looking out the window.

Don't you just love best friends?

Dad>> Dave...
Dad>> Do you have something to tell me?
Dave>> ... No?
Dad>> Do you know who shot out that window?

This was it. This was one of those defining moments that makes or breaks a man.

Did I do the honorable thing and cover for my best friend or did I sell him out?

What do you think I did? I sold his ass down the river.

I'm kidding, I'm kidding. As much trouble as I knew I was going to be in, I couldn't sell him out like that.

Dave>> No.
Dave>> I have no idea who did it.

Then... Then something funny happened.

My dad smiled.

He put the pellet gun down and walked past me. As he went he said one thing...

Dad>> Tell Ian to be more careful in the future.

Then he just walked away.

After all that, I didn't even get in trouble.

And Ian...

Well, later that day, he was shot several time with a pellet gun.

Great story, huh?

Tuesday, October 14, 2008

Theme Week - [GM]Dave's Childhood Vol. 3

I've never really told anyone this story. As a matter of fact, Susan hadn't even heard it until earlier today.

Let's keep it between us, okay?

When I was a kid, there wasn't a lot to do in my neighborhood. My friends and I had to find things to do.

This is code for "we got into trouble".

One of our favorite things to do was to raid a certain neighbors crab apple tree.

I know. This doesn't sound that entertaining.

It gets considerably more exciting when that neighbor has a gun and a short temper.

What can I say? We weren't bright.

So one night, we waited until dark and went to his yard. Everything was perfectly quiet and it looked like the coast was clear.

Rather than simply climbing the tree (which would probably have been much more intelligent), we decided to start by throwing things into the tree to knock some crab apples down.

I should point out that we weren't doing this for the crab apples. We didn't even like the things. We'd steal as much as we could carry and then dump them somewhere down the street.

We just had fun stealing them.

And not getting shot.

That was an important part.

Getting shot would definitely have decreased the fun.

So, we're throwing stuff into the tree. I noticed the neighbor's kid has left one of those big, plastic bats in the yard.

This was immediately thrown into the tree.

Where it became stuck.



See, if they came out in the morning and saw the bat in the tree, that would take all the fun out of it. The entire point was for them not to find out.

A large, red plastic bat may not look like a naturally occurring event.

We had to get the bat down.

Unfortunately, this is the exact moment the lights came on in the house and people started moving around. They didn't come out, but it made climbing the tree too risky an option.

We needed a plan.

My friends and I split into two groups. Several of the guys went around one side of the house to look for tools (read: shit to throw into the tree) and my friend Ian and I went around the corner to come up with a plan.

Ian was THAT friend. You know, the friend that just leads you into doing very, very stupid things.

Every story from my childhood begins with "Ian and I..." and ends with "... And then someone went to the hospital."

Or "... And someone was bleeding."

Or that one time "... And then she got pregnant."

We don't talk about that one.

That last one was a joke, but I think you get my point.

Ian and I set to work making a plan. We ran through our available tools and materials, and then considered our objects.

After some very careful planning, we devised an idea.

We decided to throw a rock into the tree.


In our defense, it was a very large rock.

It actually took two of us to throw it into the tree. We picked it up, counted and then threw it into the tree.

Luck was on our side. The rock sailed straight up and dislodged the bat.


Unfortunately, the rock then hit a branch and went sideways.


And that's the exact moment one of our other friends, Arthur, came around the corner to see how things were going.

I can't really describe the sound it made when the rock hit him on the head.

The closest I've ever come to describing it is the sound of an empty Pepsi can being used to crack an egg.

I'm not sure if Arthur was the can or the egg.

I'm pretty sure it doesn't matter.

Anyway, Arthur gets smacked in the face by Stone IV. He immediately crashes to the ground and I am instantly aware that he is dead.

Oh, don't worry. He wasn't dead.

I figured that out when I noticed that he was still breathing.

Also, the loud, piercing screams helped.

Something about not being able to feel his legs.

That's not a joke. He actually screamed that.

Because of his screaming, more lights suddenly came on and we could hear our neighbors on their way out.

Given the situation, we knew there was only one thing left to do...

We ran like muthaf&%#ers.

Oh... It gets worse.

After about two seconds, we both realized Arthur knew who we were. We had to go back.

So... We ran back, grabbed Arthur's screaming body and ran down the street.

In retrospect, it might have been better if we had grabbed his arms.

In retrospect.

Instead, we grabbed his ankles and dragged him down the street.

Did I mention he was still screaming?

When we stopped (eventually), we managed to calm him down and explain to him that his legs were just fine.

When he felt a little better, we walked him home. Ian and I figured that he probably had a concussion (though we did throw around words like "broken" and "skull") and would need to go to a hospital or something.

But he looked okay.

Everything was okay.

We took him into his house and then walked him inside. His parents were sat in the kitchen and they looked at us a little confused.

Then Arthur walked into the kitchen.

As soon as the light hit his face, his body went limp and he fell forward. He fell straight to the floor stopping just long enough to smash his face into the kitchen table.

I really wish I was making this up.

His parents freaked out and started yelling. The ran from their chairs and tried to help him up.

Ian and I did the only thing we could think of.

We got the hell out of there.

They looked like they had it all under control.

Ian and I just walked home.

And Arthur went to the hospital.


I REALLY wish I was making this up.

Monday, October 13, 2008

Theme Week - [GM]Dave's Childhood Vol. 2

My First Nintendo

Despite my love for the Atari, I don't think I'd really have considered myself a gamer at that point.

Yeah, I loved the games, but they hadn't yet taken root as part of my being.

I wasn't a gamer.

Then... Then I heard that the NES system was coming out.

And I went retarded.

I had to have that system. Day one in North America, I had to be holding that damned thing in my little hands or someone was going to pay.

There was only one problem with my whole plan.

I had no money.

I don't mean I had very little money.

I had literally no money at all.

With some careful saving and by floating a small loan from my mother, I MAY have been able to put together enough money to buy a can of Pepsi.

I needed money.

Nintendo money.

Something had to be done.

I spent days, perhaps even weeks, formulating plan after plan.

Kill the ice cream man?

Too messy.

Rob a bank?

Too difficult.

Rob my grandmother?

Put that one in the "maybe" pile.

But none of them would work.

Time grew shorter and shorter as launch day drew ever closer. Every passing second put me one step closer to my deadline.

And then it hit me. A plan so clever, so devious, so EVIL that it was bound to work.

Dave>> Mom?
Dave>> I think I'd like to start collecting quarters.

Laugh if you want. You're missing the beautiful simplicity of my cunning plan.

I managed to convince my mother that collecting quarters was not only a good idea, but that she should help me.

Apparently, if you say the word 'educational' enough times, parents will fall for anything.

You might also think I should have aimed bigger than quarters, but that would have been a mistake. Too large a denomination would have thrown up some flares.

It was perfect.

So everyday, my mother would come home from work and empty out all of her change. We would go through the quarters and I'd Ooh and Ahh over the year or design.

I really didn't care.

Then, when I'd acted 'educational' enough, I'd grab the quarters and run them straight up to my bank.

We did this every single day.

I'm pretty sure my mom went out of her way to get extra quarters in her change just for me.

People can be so sweet when you're conning them.

As time went by, my "collection" grew rather large.

Then, as the day approached, I made my move.

Dave>> Mom...
Dave>> I don't think I want to collect quarters any more.
Mom>> Really?
Mom>> Why not?
Dave>> Well, it's not as interesting as it used to be.
Dave>> It's not really interactive.
Mom>> Oh...

Wait for it...

Wait for it...

Mom>> Maybe we should find you a new hobby.


Okay, okay. I had to play it cool.

Dave>> I don't know...
Mom>> Oh, c'mon.
Mom>> Is there anything that you're interested in?
Dave>> Well...
Dave>> There is this new video game system coming out...

This is where you picture me holding my breath.

Mom>> That doesn't sound too bad.
Dave>> Really?

Big eyes. Look hopeful.

Mom>> Sure.
Mom>> Hey, maybe we can roll up your quarters...
Dave>> That's a good idea, Mom.

Actually, the quarters were already rolled and were waiting in a bag to go to the bank.

A few days later, I came home from school to find my beautiful NES waiting on my bed.

I ran and hugged my mom extra tight and, as she looked at me with that look of pure joy on her face, I couldn't help but think...

How many quarters would it be for a dirt bike?

C-C-C-Combo Breaker!

I know, I know. This is supposed to be theme week.

Don't worry. The theme week post will be up in a little while.

I just had to get this off my chest.

Politics is not something I like to discuss, particularly here on the blog. Politics tends to get people angry and rarely leads to good discussions.

But this... This is something I had to mention.

You're all, no doubt, familiar with the recent Troopergate scandal. It revolves around the firing of a state trooper named Wooten.

I don't know. Look it up.

After doing some extensive internet research, I have made a discovery that will tear the whole thing wide open.

Brace yourself.

Trooper Wooten...

Trooper Wooten is the freaking cop from Heroes.


I know.

Sure, he may have gotten fired, but at least he can read minds.

So, he's got that going for him.

If you'll excuse me, I'll be over here waiting for my Pulitzer to arrive.

Sunday, October 12, 2008

Theme Week - [GM]Dave's Childhood Vol. 1

The Beginning

I was a calm child.

I know, I know. Given my record of outbursts and violence, you wouldn't have guessed that.

Yeah, I was pretty calm.

Then one night, my parents and I went to a movie. As we were leaving, we were confronted by a mugger. My parents tried to protect me, but he shot them. It was then that I vowed to...


That's not me.

That's Batman.


Honestly, the beginning of [GM]Dave was a very boring one. I was a regular kid who did regular things. I rode my bike and hung out with my friends. I read those book things.

Then one fateful morning, my parents got me an Atari.

For the young people in the crowd, the Atari was a game console before the Nintendo.

Yes, there was a BEFORE Nintendo.

I loved that damned Atari. Missile Command, QBert, whatever.

I played them all.

Admittedly, the graphics were not the best.

This is an actual screenshot from an Atari game

Who the hell needs 8 whole bits?

That's a dragon.

I think.

But that didn't matter to me. I played those games and lived those lives.

I fought off alien invaders.

I ran through jungles and jumped over pits.

I did... Whatever the hell it was that QBert did.

Then one day something terrible happened, something horrendous.

My mother bought me a new game.

I know what you're thinking. How could my mother buying me a new game possibly be so horrible?

The Atari fans in the crowd know exactly what I'm about to say.

My mother...

My mother bought me E.T., the Extra Terrestrial.

Oh, the humanity.

If you've never played the game before, you could download an emulator and play it.

Or you could save some time and just beat yourself senseless with a ball peen hammer.

I would suggest the hammer. Physical scars heal quicker.

E.T., the Extra Terrestrial set new standards in both:

a) terrible, terrible games

b) horribly redundant titles

Purchasing this game for a child is now, thankfully, grounds to have your children taken away by social services.

Unfortunately, I was not so lucky.

I shoved that cartridge of the damned in my Atari and hit the power button.

That was the day my childhood ended.

To this day, I have no idea what that game was about.

I'd seen the movie. I understood the movie. I do not, however, remember the part where E.T. falls into randomly placed holes and then levitates out of them.

Not many people can recall the exact moment when they first started to really hate everything.

I can.

It was the twenty seventh time I fell into one of those damned holes.

Every time I feed a retard to Jormy, every damned time, I'm reminded of the empty hole left in my soul.

A hole created by E.T., the Extra Terrestrial.

I then fill that hole with Jack Daniel's.

What? Fighting crime looks damned hard.

Saturday, October 11, 2008

Theme Week Update

I've spent some time conversing with last month's top donator.

We threw several ideas around, but, after posting my story about my week from hell, he told me not to bother and to take it easy.

I honestly would, but I feel that would be a bit of a cop out. Everyone that donates does so because they enjoy reading the blog. They all deserve as much as I can put in this space.

Hell, I cut open my finger just for your amusement.

That sounds a lot better than I'm too retarded to use a utility knife properly.

Starting tomorrow, I will be running a full theme week. Seven straight days of posting and hopefully very little blood loss.

You guys deserve nothing less.

Thursday, October 09, 2008

What... The... F&%#?

It's not that I don't understand merchandise aimed at the gamer community.

We make pretty easy targets.

All you have to do is take some mildly interesting product, give it a barely plausible video game connection, and slap a price tag on it.

We will buy it.

Hell, you can make two versions. As long as one of them has a hologram or something, we'll pay extra.

I personally own several bottles of FFXII potion.

This potion really doesn't do anything.

It's just a drink.

They know that.

I know that.

And yet, I still bought it.

I'd drink it, but those are collector bottles.

They're special.

I know that because I paid extra.

But the whole process wasn't insulting. It was perfectly obvious that everyone involved understood the situation.


This is insulting.

See, collector's items are supposed to feed your love for a certain franchise.

They're not supposed to feed people who are too stupid to order pizza.

What is the entire point of this product?

It's a "performance snack."



Do those words really belong in the same sentence?

Maybe it's just a joke. I mean they'd never claim that this product would have any actual effect...

Gamer Grub is a great tasting snack that boosts your core gaming systems—such as visual input, cognitive processing, signal transmission and muscle reflexes. Scientifically formulated with essential nutrients and vitamins, Gamer Grub provides a healthy, great tasting snack mix that supports fast reaction times for maximum gaming performance. Eat well and prosper.

I swear to God, that's a real quote from their site.

It's under the link marked "Science."

I put the quotes there, but only because it seemed like an insult to science if I didn't.

Does it really take a "scientist" to figure out that food increases your ability to perform actions?

Isn't that the exact purpose of food?

And what basis did they use for thinking this product would be well accepted?

They gave out free samples.

Who the hell wouldn't take a free sample?

It's free food. You give anyone free food and they're going to tell you it's good.

I always tell the sample lady at the supermarket that I'm going to buy whatever it is she's selling. Then I take my free sample, eat it, and walk the hell away.

This should probably not fill her with a sense of purpose.

Listen... I realize that gamers make up a large and very attractive market. We are connected and we have a lot of disposable cash.

And we're just waiting to buy whatever you throw at us.

We're an easy sell.

Do you know what we're not?

We're not retarded.

This is the exact kind of product that seems perfect for gamers to someone who knows nothing about gamers.

We don't fall for this type of shit.

Honestly, I'm very insulted. I'm insulted on behalf of the entire gaming community.

If you want to sell us a product, do some actual market research. Design an honest product that will help us perform better in a measurable, quantifiable way that is both creative and interesting.

Or slap a hologram on there.

Tuesday, October 07, 2008

Someone Shoot Me

This has been a very bad week.

Last Wednesday, the phones in our house died. I had no idea why. If I picked up the receiver, there was dead air.

But I still had DSL.

No, I don't know how that is exactly possible.

Since I did not know, I decided to call the people who should know: the phone company.

They couldn't show up until Friday.

Who needs phones?

The guy shows up between the convenient hours of 8 am and 6 pm. Apparently, I must have had nothing better to do that day.

The ENTIRE day.

He finally shows up and uses his years of training and experience to figure out

PhoneGuy>> I have no idea what's going on.

At this point, I was standing in my house with a stranger who cannot fix the exact problem he is there to fix.

We managed to ascertain that an extremely long awkward silence would not fix the problem.

I left him to fixing our phones and went to my computer. At the very least, I could spend the rest of the day crafting in FFXI.

And then my video card exploded.

Okay... Exploded might be a little bit strong of a word.

There are parts of my video card on the outside that should be on the inside.

This is bad.

I considered asking the guy who doesn't know how to fix phones if he also doesn't know how to fix computers.


So, I'm down a phone and a video card.

I end up having to swap in an old card just to use the computer.

A 64MB card.

I feel so unclean.

Funny story, did you know they charge money for new video cards?

That should be against the law.

So, I'm already having a bad week.

Could only get better, right?

Then a water pipe burst.

Communication breakdown... Fire... Flood...

I think I'm a few locusts away from armageddon.

I called a plumber on my cell. He said he would be there as soon as possible.

I immediately commenced holding my breath.

He suggested I wrap the pipe with some tape until he could get there.

I'm getting the duct tape ready and go to cut it with a box cutter.

You probably already know where this is going.

Three minutes later, the pipe is still leaking and now so am I.

Apparently, scissors beat paper, paper beats rock, and box cutter beats finger.

So now, I'm bleeding.


Susan was at work, so I had to drive myself to the hospital while bleeding.

This is actually harder than it sounds.

I somehow managed to make it to the hospital and rush directly to emergency.

As blood was actually emerging from my body, this seemed like a proper course of action.

You'd think a great deal of blood leaking from an open wound would be considered an emergency.

You'd be wrong.

Apparently, if you have not been shot in the face, you have to wait.

Don't worry, nurse. I'm sure this paper towel will do the trick.

Where's a White Mage when you need one?

Eventually, the nurse calls my name and I get to go into a little room and wait some more.

Then she came back and asked me what I cut myself with.

For future reference, don't say box cutter when asked that question.

"Box cutter" apparently translates into "give me extra needles".

Instead, tell them that you cut yourself with a sterile kitten or something.

The doctor who is, I assume, in the moments between shot gun wounds, looks at my finger and tells me that I am bleeding.

That's not a joke.

He said that.

I suggested that perhaps we should do something about that.

His suggestion was needles and stitches.

My suggestion was that he get the hell away from me.

I finally consent to the anesthetic and he stabs my finger with a sharp object.

I find this terribly ironic because I was there due to stabbing my finger with a sharp object.

Presumably, the burn ward is stocked with blow torches and lighter fluid.

So, the doctor is applying anesthetic.

I was not aware that anesthetic was applied by raking a needle over bone.

This is a very pleasant experience.

This is when the nurse starts telling me about how much worse it hurt when she had children.

Great story.

I told her to take her uterus and get the hell out.

Why do people feel the need to do that?

I'm in obvious pain. I don't want to hear about the time you were in worse pain.

When you do that I wish you were IN worse pain.

Eventually, the doctor finishes stitching me up and leaves me to the nurse.

Nurse Cervix hands me extra bandages and shows me how to change my dressing.

Am I certified for this?

Did I get a Med School degree I don't remember?

I need to drink less.

They send me out with a sewn up finger and bandages I should have probably actually paid attention to when they were explaining how to use them.

Eh, it'll be on Wikipedia.

Man, this has been a great week.

At this rate, I'll have the Bubonic Plague by Saturday.

Dammit. I had Limbus.

Saturday, October 04, 2008

Tsk, Tsk, Tsk

Yesterday, some rule revisions came down the pipelines. Corporate decided to update the current policies to make penalties for breaking rules more clear.

In order to help players, they also included a variety of helpful tips on how you should act in game and what actions can be considered both appropriate and inappropriate.

Communication With Other Players

It's easy for misunderstandings to happen between people who are far way. In order to maintain a friendly environment, please keep the following in mind:


* It never hurts to be polite.
* When giving advice, remember that a little kindness can go a long way.
* Try to foster an accommodating atmosphere.
* If it's not appropriate in everyday life, it's probably not appropriate online either.
* Try not to let personal information about yourself and others slip out.


* Using language not acceptable in a public venue.
* Any language that condemns any race, nationality, religion, sexual orientation or gender.
* Any language that is purposely meant to harm or harass a third party.
* Any group formed for the purpose of harassing a player or players.

Disruptive Behavior

* Any action that deliberately causes a monster to attack another player character, or MPK-related action.
* Holding a Notorious Monster without attacking it while other players are waiting.
* Deliberately interrupting a conversation or chat session by spamming the log window or other such actions.
* Sending unwanted items to another player through the delivery box.
* Group actions that block access and impede other players' movements within the game.
* Any action that keeps another player from completing a quest or mission.
* Examining other players continuously to disrupt their gameplay.
* Consistently depriving other players of the chance to enjoy combat over an extended period of time.
* Any other action that is determined by a GM to cause a disruption in gameplay.

In-Game Fraud

Defined as any action to defraud another player with the intent to gain items or gil for personal profit.

Game Balance Issues

* Any use of a program that is not officially sanctioned by Square Enix.
* Controlling a player character through use of a program or machine that is not officially sanctioned by Square Enix.
* ANY use of third-party programs, regardless of benefit.
* Selling items or accounts to gain money in the real world, or other RMT-related actions.

These are incredibly important, incredibly helpful pieces of advice that any FFXI player should be aware of.

These are great rules.

The funny part is that this shit is so freaking terribly obvious. It saddens me to no end that we even have to explain this to players.

What are you? New?

How in the hell can anyone on our planet not understand these most basic rules of social interaction?

Basically, these rules could have been summarized much more efficiently.

Be nice.

Don't cheat.

Don't be a dick.

Those are also good rules.

Hell, these are good rules for life, in general.

I think the entire ToS should be rewritten as a single sentence:

Don't be a dick.

Or, more directly:

Don't be a dick or a very angry, possibly drunk GM will appear and feed you to a large purple dragon.

Don't you think that is much clearer to a player?

We wouldn't have to worry about 24 hour suspensions or 72 hour suspensions.

If you act like a dick, for any reason, you get fed to a dragon.

Hell, I'm going to call corporate.

This is a great idea.

Just So You Know...

In case any of you who don't play FFXI have been curious about what the game is actually like, I thought I'd mention that FilePlanet is running a promotion where you can download the game and all expansions through Direct2Drive.

It even includes a free 14 day trial.

C'mon... You know you want to.

Okay, okay. I'm not going to force you.

I'll just leave this link right here and if FFXI should ACCIDENTALLY end up getting downloaded, then so be it.

The first one's always free...

FilePlanet FFXI Promotion

Wednesday, October 01, 2008

You Don't Know Us - Redux

After my original post about gamer stereotypes, I got a number of comments and e-mails from gamers telling me how much they appreciated the points I made.

As I read each, I was encouraged to hear from gamers that rail against the stupid stereotype that has been pushed upon us.

It also really got me thinking about the whole issue.

This is a big thing for me. I'm not the kind of guy who puts a lot of thought into the things that I hate.

Takes all the fun out of random hatred.

But, because I felt that gamers deserve better, I spent some time really thinking about the stereotypes we're faced with.

Let's see if you can follow along.

We'll start with the whole "all gamers are fat, 30 year old, virgin loser guys who live in their parents' basement" stereotype.

You know something funny though?

When they talk about playing online, they always start with the "12 year old moron" stereotype.

So... All gamers are 30 years old, but are also 12 year old loud mouths...


Okay, okay. They're diversifying their stereotypes. I suppose one contradiction can't be that bad.

So we're all "fat, virgin loser guys who live in their parents' basement".

Wait... Whenever anyone talks about first person shooters, they always talk about the drunken frat boy types.

College people.

So, now we're 12, 20, AND 30 year olds. And we live in a dorm AND in our parents' basement.

I'm getting confused.

But we can all agree that we're "fat, virgin loser guys", right?

Oh shit... The losers thing...

They know we have a whole sports league now, right?

And that people make millions of dollars playing and designing games?


So, we're left with "fat virgin guys".

I don't know about you, but I've had sex.

The little person running around my feet seems to be a good indicator of that fact.

Okay... So... "fat guys"...

Do we not have overweight NON-gamers?

Even assuming SOME gamers were overweight, is that somehow an isolated characteristic of our demographic?

They've got a point. You never see fat baseball or football fans.



So... What are we left with?


I suppose they got us there. We're all guys, right?


What about chick games?

You know every time they make a new Babyz or Horsez or whatever game, it's automatically stereotyped as a chick game.

Do you think a bunch of guys went out and bought all those copies of Nintendogs?


Shit. So what does that leave us with?

" "

Not much apparently.

If you take into account all of the gamer stereotypes, we are "12, 20, AND 30 year old, possibly fat, possibly sexually active, losers with lots of money and fame, men and women who live in houses, dorms and maybe our parents' basements."

Doesn't that cover pretty much everyone on our planet?

So... the prevailing gamer stereotype is "gamers are people".

Well, would you look at that...

Apparently, if you mix enough stupid together, you get the right answer.