Sunday, November 30, 2008

Theme Week - [GM]Susan Vol. 4

Our First REAL Date

Even though Susan and I met online, there was an eventual first date.

You might think that's pretty obvious, but it's kind of strange to know someone for so long and then go on a first date.

Also, after that date, she's lucky I ever talked to her again.

Oh, don't get me wrong. She was a great girl.

But that date was terrible.

First, she said she wanted to pick me up. My car was in the shop and she had borrowed a friend's car.

We made plans for her to pick me up at 8 and we'd go see a movie.

At 8:45, I was standing in a parking lot wondering where the hell she was.

Yes, she was 45 minutes late for our first date.

She immediately start apologizing (when she finally arrived) and, had she not looked damned good, I probably would have called her retarded and then banned her account for good measure.

Luckily, she looked damned good.

Damned good.

Yes, I had been standing in a parking lot for almost an hour, but let that be a testament to exactly what a man will do for a hot woman.

Did I mention it was raining?

No, I'm not making that up.

Since we had to go see a later movie, we decided to go grab a quick bite to eat.

At first, I was worried she might be one of those vegan, health food nuts.

Then she pulled into a McDonald's.

Guess not.

We made the usual small talk, smiling and laughing as we ordered our food. I was being my usual charming self and she was eating it up. All in all, it was going exceedingly well.

The cashier got our drinks, put them on a tray, and suggested we sit down and she would bring us our food. I pick up the tray and we head for a table.

I should point out that I grabbed the tray by the end away from the drinks.

Anyone with even a passing knowledge of physics has probably figured out where this is going.

Did I mention that we had ordered large cokes?


We're walking and talking, and then I trip, sending two very large glasses of coke sailing through the air to crash into a table.

And a family of four.

I really wish I was making all of this up.

We, of course, apologized profusely and then found a place to sit. The cashier saw the whole thing and was kind enough to bring us new drinks with our food.

Then we got to experience an incredibly pleasant meal while a very soggy family gave us evil looks.

The guy they sent to mop the place up didn't look very pleased either.

Smooth, Dave. Smooth.

After we basically raced through our food, we decided it would be best if we went straight to the movie.

This is where "first date stupidity" took effect.

See, I wanted to look kind and sweet, so I picked a movie I thought she would like.

She wanted to look kind and sweet, so she didn't argue with my choice.

Thus, we ended up seeing a movie that neither of us actually wanted to see.

To this day, even mentioning the movie makes me want to punch myself. I'll be on my deathbed thinking only about those two squandered hours.

After the movie, we went for a short walk in the moonlight. The rain had cleared up and it was actually starting to be a beautiful night.

We walked and looked up at the stars opening above us.

It's funny... When you're looking up, you don't notice large puddles nearby.

Or passing cars.

Don't worry, though. You'll notice them in a second.

So, we're standing there, annoyed, embarrassed, and now drenched.

What a lovely evening.

We mutually decided to end the evening before one of us ended up killing someone or ourselves. She drove me home and, as we pulled into the parking lot, I was pretty sure that this was the end of our relationship.

Way to go, Dave.

Taking one last ditch attempt to salvage the evening, I figured my best chance was to ask her to forget the entire evening and we'd try again another night.

Dave>> Listen...
Dave>> I have a proposition for you.

Hey, did you know "proposition" can be associated with asking a girl to have sex?

I probably should have known that.

The wide eyed look of utter surprise on Susan's face suggested that she did know that.

Looking back, I'm a little amazed that she ever went out with me again.

And that she didn't call the police.

I must be REALLY good looking.

Fan Pack Update

So, this afternoon, I was working on fan pack stories when I get an e-mail.

It was from an anonymous sender.

At least... It would have been an anonymous sender if I couldn't see Susan's screen.

And if she hadn't signed it.

The e-mail said:

It had better be funny.


At first, I thought it was just a joke. Then, as I read it again, it seemed more like a veiled threat.

I was about to say something when I got another e-mail.

Just so we're clear, if it's not funny there will be consequences.


Oh crap. What the hell could that mean?

P.S. By consequences, I mean broken legs.

If it's not funny there will be broken legs.

Oh... Okay then.

I guess that's more clear.

But why would she put it in a P.S.? Couldn't she have just edited the e-mail in the first place?

I just realized I could have edited that e-mail.

Ignore that.


Oh... Kay.

Wait... Ignore the fact that it was in a P.S.

The part about breaking your legs still stands.


Apparently, she's not good at this.

I just realized that was a pun.


I'm not even sure if I should be scared anymore.

We should have tacos for supper.


So... No then.

Still, I should probably get back to work.

Saturday, November 29, 2008

Theme Week - [GM]Susan Vol. 3

And on Susan theme week rolls.

You know, I don't remember anyone commenting that they'd like a theme week all about me.

What the hell?

Did you guys ever think that maybe I'd like to write an entire week all about me? Maybe I'd like to write blog posts about my own opinions and the weird shit that happens to me.


Oh yeah...

_ _ _ _ _ _

An Actual Conversation
This is an actual conversation Susan and I once had about parenting.

Note: Susan has threatened me with serious physical harm if I don't point out that she's a really great mom.

She really is.

I'm not just saying that because she's going to hurt me.

I mean, she is going to hurt me if I don't say it, but she really is a good mom.

Really great.

On an unrelated note, if there's no post tomorrow, call the police.

Dave>> Honey, didn't you hear her last night?
Susan>> Hear who?

Dave>> Our daughter.

Dave>> She woke up at 3:15 crying.

Dave>> I had to put her back to sleep.

Susan>> Yeah...

Susan>> That doesn't count.

Dave>> Wait...

Dave>> What?

Dave>> How does that not count?

Susan>> See...
Susan>> I don't function between 2 and 4 am.

Susan>> That's just a rule.

Dave>> You don't function?

Susan>> Exactly.

Dave>> Exactly what?

Dave>> That doesn't mean anything.

Susan>> I don't get up between 2 and 4 am.

Susan>> I just don't.

Susan>> Any other time, sure.

Susan>> But not between 2 and 4 am.

Dave>> That's insane.

Dave>> You can't just call blocks of time like that.

Susan>> And yet I did.

Susan>> Huh.

Dave>> That...

Dave>> That's so not cool.

Susan>> I didn't make the rules.

Dave>> You did.

Dave>> You just did.

Dave>> You just made that up.

Susan>> Okay, so I make the rules.

Susan>> Whatever.

Dave>> No whatever.

Dave>> What do we do if she wakes up between 2 and 4?

Susan>> This is just a thought...

Susan>> You get up with her?

Dave>> You're her mother.

Susan>> You're her father.

Susan>> I'll be her mother the other 22 hours of the day.

Dave>> When's my two hour break?

Susan>> Between 9 and 11 am.


Susan>> Hey, you use your break however you like.

Susan>> Plus... It's 10:30 am...

Susan>> And you're sitting here in pajamas.

Dave>> Oh f&%@...

I swear to this day, she doesn't get up between 2 and 4 am.

She just doesn't.

I tried waking her up once. She bared her teeth at me and hissed.

Literally hissed.

I don't do that any more.

Friday, November 28, 2008

Theme Week - [GM]Susan Vol. 2

Before I begin today's post, I'd just like to mention that Susan sat me down today and explained that there were certain topics that I should not discuss.

If I happen to discuss any of these topics, her vengeance will be swift and brutal.

Unfortunately, she didn't actually tell me what any of those topics were.

Who doesn't love surprises, huh?

_ _ _ _ _ _

Black Friday

I'm not sure how the current concept of Black Friday came about.

I understand the whole "it's getting close to Christmas and there's a bunch of awesome sales" thing. I totally get that.

What I don't understand about it is how the spirit of Christmas translates into people beating the living hell out of each other over the last copy of Wall-E.

Yeah, it was a nice movie, but I don't think it was worth stepping on someone's trachea to get.

Wait... $5 off?

Get the f&%@ out of my way.

Today was yet another of those moments where my wife surprised me.

Susan is not a terribly intimidating person. She's not that strong and I very much doubt she knows how to fight.

But not today.

Today, she was a frightening thing. It was like watching her change into some primal, animal version of herself.

I gotta say... I was a little turned on.

When those doors opened, she went from talking in her usually soft, melodic tones to barking orders.

Suddenly, it was like we were in Vietnam. She was dragging me through the throng of people and telling me to keep my damned head down.

I was half expecting her to call in an air strike on the Pokemon section.

I never would have expected Susan to act that way.

You haven't lived until you've seen your adorable little wife clothesline an old lady for the last Cherry Blossom market playset.

Bitch never even saw it coming.

I'm not kidding. I think she may have been partially blind.

The serious head trauma probably didn't help the situation.

Still... There'll be a freakin' playset under our tree come the 25th.

I know I joke around about being scared of my wife, but today... Today, there were a few moments where she was actually frightening.

And this was Christmas shopping.

Honestly, if someone ever breaks into our house, I'm just going to let Susan handle it.

I'll tell her he's got half price Barbie's or some shit and she'll tear his freaking arms off.

You don't even understand.

Have you ever seen two people arguing during a big holiday sale? You know how one person starts getting louder and angrier, and then gets a little frightening?

Yeah, Susan kneecapped that girl.

And the woman she was arguing with.

Towards the end, I don't even think we were shopping any more. She just started tackling people and tearing stuff out of their hands.

Stuff we didn't even need.

Then she'd drop it in the next aisle.

I think it was like some odd, obscene sport.

Again... Gotta say... Little turned on.

Thursday, November 27, 2008

Theme Week - [GM]Susan Vol.1

I just... I just don't get it.

Why do you people like her so much?

Oh, I like her. I like her a lot.

A large part of that, however, has to do with the several non-blog related things we do together.

That's code for hot, hot sex.

Only an absolute pig would mention the hot, hot sex.


Hot, hot sex.

Anyway, by popular demand, the theme for this week will be my darling wife. The woman who takes care of me (read: reminds me to eat and shower occasionally) and makes life worth living.

We're going to spend a week talking about how freaking insane she is.

This will be:

a) fun

b) used as evidence in a future divorce proceeding.

_ _ _ _ _ _

Susan, the Obsessive Compulsive

One of the more interesting tidbits about my lovely wife is that she is incredibly obsessive compulsive about cleanliness.


This makes our marriage very interesting as I am not.

Not at all.

I'm more of a... Free spirit.

That's the nicest way I could think of to say "ridiculously lazy".

Here's an extremely common discussion we have:

Susan>> Honey...
Susan>> Why'd you leave this dish on the counter?
Dave>> Well, it was empty.
Dave>> As it had no more food, I had no more need for it.
Dave>> Holding on to it for sentimental reasons might be weird.
Susan>> Yes, but why is it on the counter?
Dave>> ...
Dave>> It would have been rude to leave it on the floor?
Susan>> The dish washer is right there.
Dave>> Hey.
Dave>> Look at that.
Susan>> How hard is it to just put your dish in the dish washer?
Dave>> I have no idea.
Dave>> I'm hoping I never have to find out.
Dave>> That's what counters are for.
Susan>> You're impossible.
Dave>> True...
Dave>> But I still think I have a valid point about the counters.

A half hour later, I'll leave another dish on the counter.

Even closer to the dish washer.

Do you see the problem in this situation?



If she could just accept that my way of doing things is more efficient, we wouldn't have any arguments.

Clothes are supposed to go on the floor. Everybody knows that.

How the hell else are you supposed to keep track of what you wore yesterday?

Or the day before?

Or last Tuesday?

But no. Every time, she has to make this huge deal about it.

Yeah, we hadn't seen the carpet in a while.

So what? I remember what color it was.

And yeah, sure, our daughter may have gotten lost once...

We found her.

It was like a big game of peek-a-boo.

Only instead of hands, her face was covered by some sweat pants and my Superman t-shirt.

That's bonding.

No, I'm serious. Some of that shit was actually bonded to the child. It was like a scene from Spiderman 3, but without the emo.

But did my wife see the cuteness of the situation?

Of course not.

She was all "Why are you taking pictures? She's got your jeans wrapped around her throat."

I mean c'mon...

How crazy can you get?

Wednesday, November 26, 2008

A Gentle Nudge

As I mentioned the other day, I'm still waiting for last month's donator to get back to me with his ideas for a theme week.


This got me thinking... When was the last fan pack sent out?

I'm supposed to be sending these things out around every four weeks to the super awesome readers who donate to the blog.

Someone should probably be keeping track of that for me.

Funny story...

Today, I came home and said hello to my lovely wife. I kissed her and then kissed my daughter.

She said "Check your e-mail".

No "hi". No "how ya doin'?".

I immediately realized this was bad.

Uh oh.

So, I log into my e-mail and find a new message...

From Susan.

Hello GM Dave,

This is a not so friendly reminder from your lovely wife Susan that you need to get off your ass and start working on the fanpack. Last month's fanpack was sent out on October 28th and today is November 26th and you haven't even mentioned it on the blog.

If you want me to keep you around you better start bringing in all that money that I've come to expect.
Now stop procrastinating and do your job.


P.S. I love you.

This is the part where I point out that she's literally ten feet away from me. She could have just reached over and tapped me on the shoulder.

Not my wife. No, sir.

If that wasn't bad enough, she later showed me a Polaroid of my DS. She's holding it captive until such time as I produce an actual fan pack.

She hasn't stipulated if it has to be funny.

I'm not going to take any chances.

So... One week from today, I will be sending out a brand spanking new fan pack to everyone who donates $5 or more.

The pack will include my usual insanity, some articles about things only I would find interesting, and whatever else I think will help me get my baby back safely.

Usually, I wouldn't negotiate with kidnappers, but she is also my wife. I couldn't do anything else.

Also, the FBI told me they don't kill women for stealing portable gaming consoles.

I filled out the form and everything.

Stupid government.

And, as I've been doing the past few months, the person who donates the most each month gets special recognition. You can suggest story ideas, get fan packs you may have missed, have me kill a family member...

If you fill out the form.

Also, you get to pick your very own theme for an entire week. I write seven straight posts about whatever the hell you find funny.

You like Pauly Shore? I'll write a week about Pauly Shore.

(note: do not suggest Pauly Shore)

See? See how much I love you, my loyal readers?

Please help.

She scares me a little.


Holy crap.

I've written four hundred posts.

Four hundred.

That's a lot of insane ranting about gil sellers.

Some day, I'm going to sit down and actually count up the number of idiots and retards I've murdered on this blog.

That'll be a hell of an Excel sheet won't it?

I just wanted to mention that. It's cool to know that people have actually taken the time to read 400 of the random thoughts that run through my brain.

If you were a therapist, I'd owe you a lot of money by this point.

But why would I need to see a therapist?

Monday, November 24, 2008

An Open Letter

Dear Nick,

I sent you an e-mail explaining how you were donator of the month. I spent a great deal of time on that e-mail and opened myself up to you.

This was a big deal for me. I never let people see the hurt little boy inside me and I took a chance by sharing so much with you.

And yet, you've ignored me. The bond I thought we both shared has been torn asunder and the small glimmer of my healing soul has been snuffed out forever.



I'm not going to lie to you. It hurt. It hurt a lot.

I don't think I'll ever be able to open up to anyone like that again. Not...

Not after this.

I just... I just wanted you to know. I...

I needed you to know.

From my broken heart,


P.S. If you could send me some ideas for a theme week, it would probably keep several of my readers from sending me death threats.

I would also no longer be forced to write retarded, emo bullshit like this.

So... Get on it.

Saturday, November 22, 2008


Apparently, Santa got my letter.

In case you have not heard, SE has announced that Shantotto will be playable in the upcoming Final Fantasy Dissidia fighting game.

Anyone who has ever played FFXI is probably on their way to line up for this game.

I know I'd line up to beat the hell out of that little Taru bitch.

This is like finding out that your third grade math teacher who gave you detention every day is going to be in the UFC.

That's worth a freakin' ticket.

If you're not familiar with Shantotto, count yourself lucky.

Honestly, this is about the best choice they could have...


Why the hell wasn't I picked?

I would have MADE that damned game.

Imagine... Every round would end with me calling my opponent a retard.

Maybe I could urinate on their corpse.

My finishing move would be to summon Jormy.

I'm not sure how they'd fit him on the screen. Maybe everything would just go purple and then you watch a cutscene of the inside of a dragon's stomach.

You know... This is starting to sound like a really great idea. I should send this off to corporate.

Could you imagine if all of my readers went out to buy this game?

That'd be like 4 more copies.

Totally worth it.

Final Fantasy Davidia.

Damn... I'm a genius.

Thursday, November 20, 2008

Just... Just Stop Already

I'm a tolerant guy.

Stop laughing.

But I've had it up to my freaking eyes with this "pregnant man" bullshit.


How hard is this to understand? Why are we even bothering to give time to this crap?

Yes, she is choosing to live as a man. I get that.

I don't really care either way.

People can pretty much call themselves whatever they want. It really doesn't matter to me.

You want to call yourself a man? Go right the hell ahead.

What the f&%@ ever.

It still doesn't mean it's a big deal that you get pregnant.

He/she has ovaries.

He/she has a uterus.

He/she got pregnant.

This is not news.

This is actually the exact opposite of news.

I could, right this minute, take my computer apart and reassemble it in the casing of our dishwasher.

From the outside, it would look exactly like your average dishwasher.

I could not, however, pretend it was some freaking miracle that I now had a Vista-capable dishwasher.

Now, I've got nothing against dishwashers or computers that want to live as dishwashers.

By all means.

But a computer running a computer program isn't exactly earth-shattering.

If the pregnant man was Vista-capable, that would be news.

I mean, he's already interested in case mods.

Bah dump pshhh.

Seriously, he/she should totally do this. Get a fully-functional computer running inside his/her abdomen.

I would friggin' Digg that shit.

Hard part would be putting in the motherboard.

See what I did there?

But pregnant?

That's not interesting. People have been doing that for years.

I installed one of those in Susan ages ago.

I'd say she's also a great dishwasher, but she'd probably stab me in my urethra.

That would be bad.

I like my urethra.

I'm attached to my urethra.

Maybe... Maybe if we all just stopped paying attention to bullshit like this, they'll stop trying to pass stuff like this off as news.


I'll just be over here holding my breath.

Tuesday, November 18, 2008

The Impending Update

What more could you want? Honestly, what the hell else could we do for you?

We increased solo xp.

We put a nomad moogle in Selbina.

Basically, we did everything that the players asked us to do.

And yet, people still complained about other things.

So, with a renewed sense of purpose and meaning (and an open bar), we went back to the drawing board and tried to figure out what else we could do for you, our players.

Okay... When I say "we", I don't mean "we".

I really didn't have shit to do with any of that. That's some guy in another country who I've never even met.

I don't even know if they use drawing boards.

But he/she/they went to work.

I stayed here to hold down the fort.

You would be surprised how much drinking is involved in holding down a fort.

So, the nameless, under-appreciated devs went to work to find out exactly what they could do to make the game even better.

That's friggin' commitment.

I mean, the game is already amazing. It is, without a doubt, the best MMORPG on the market today.

Oh, calm down. It's not like any WoW players will even read this for the next month.

They have to go kill some guy with a cold chair or something.

Just the idea that someone is working everyday to make a great game even better astounds me.

This is like the guy who invented candied bacon.

Yeah, Baby.

He took an amazing product, bacon, and said "what ELSE can we do to make it better?"


Bacon is good. Bacon is delicious.

Bacon is damned near perfect.

And yet... Some guy worked to make it just a little better.

That's our devs.

Also, FFXI won't make your heart explode.

I think.

What did the devs come up with?

They made your whole game life easier.

No, they didn't turn down the difficulty on any enemies. Put your Kraken Clubs back in storage.

Instead, they said "let's just take away a lot of the hassle."

Remember having to go find a guard to recharge your exp rings?

Not anymore.

Remember how hard it was to get from Jeuno to Whitegate?

Not anymore.

Remember those f&%@ing idiots who kept taking your coffer when you're trying to do your damned Artifact Armor quests so you had to wait another freakin' half an hour for the coffer to repop just to watch ANOTHER moron take it?

... Not anymore.

They even removed the taxes from Jeuno.

C'mon. What more could you possibly want?

No, we will not be releasing an attachment that services you while you play.


I'm pretty sure we won't be doing that.

Oh God, I hope we don't do that.

Why do I even say things like this? When it happens, I'm going to get blamed for it.

Who the hell would want something like that?


Put your hands down.

Sunday, November 16, 2008

A Matter Of Perspective

I don't ask much of people. I really don't.

Since I pretty much just assume everyone in the world is a moron or an idiot (or both), there's really not much point in asking anything of them.

One of the very few things I ask of people is a little bit of reality.

I know. As a guy who gets paid to play video games and yell at retards, what would I know about reality?

Well, I know people are delusional. I know that being delusional leads us to do stupid things.

This is where that pesky reality comes in. If everyone had just a tiny, little grasp on reality, they would be much less likely to do something epically stupid.

Case in point: Guy meets girl. Guy marries girl. Guy marries girl. Guy cheats on girl. Girl dumps guy.

It's a tale as old as the ages themselves.

Except for the second getting married there.

I don't remember reading about online computer games in Roman literature.

In my defense, I really didn't pay that much attention.

Apparently, a guy playing Second Life met a girl in the game, married her, and then got caught cheating on her.

Second Life appears to be an MMORPG very similar to FFXI except they took out all the fighting and monsters and adventuring.

And, from where I'm standing, all the fun.

Now, this may come as no surprise to you. Guys cheat on girls all the time.

It gets funnier when you see the guy.

Sexy time

How in the hell did this guy cheat on anybody?

Some of you might be wondering what the girl looks like.

That's not important.

It's not even relevant.

A guy who looks like this should thank God that ANYONE even talks to him, let alone wants to marry him.

But somehow... SOMEHOW... He not only found someone to marry him, he also decided he should cheat on her with another woman.

That would be like a drowning man deciding to let go of a piece of drift wood because he thinks he can find a raft.

How could he possibly make this decision? How could he possibly think this was a viable choice for him?

Because his online avatar looks like this:

Warning: people in picture are larger than they appear

Yeah. Apparently, Second Life allows just enough customization to let you make your avatar look like a giant douchebag.

But that's part of the funny.

His character looks like the type of prick that would cheat on a girl.

Now, I'm not saying it's okay for anyone to cheat. Cheating is wrong and hurts a lot of people.

Still, there are some people who cheat and you think "Yeah, he looks like the type."

And then, there are some people who cheat and you think "Really?! That guy?!"

He's a "that guy".

Actually, he might be three or four "that guy"s.

See, a little perspective would have kept him from cheating. A little perspective might have helped him understand he should be happy with what he has.

I understand people tend to confuse their online personas and their offline lives.

A little bit of that is okay. If it helps you have better self-esteem or maybe makes you a little bit more confident, then more power to you.

But there are limits.

I play a Dragoon. While I very much like my character, you won't see me sneaking up on a tiger with a sharp stick.

That's because I'm not retarded.

Thursday, November 13, 2008

Bios Ex Machina

So, I was fixing up my new laptop. Since it was just a burnt out harddrive, I figured it would be an easy enough fix.

I mean, I've got boxes of various computer parts all over my house. As someone who expects shit to break on a regular basis, I just keep everything so I'll always have a spare.

Don't tell Susan, but I've got a spare wife hidden in the attic.

You know... Just in case.

It only took me a few minutes to find a spare laptop drive, so it looked like it was going to be a quick switch out and I'm done.

Do you know what's funny? I'm always wrong when I think that.

It's not "Haha" funny.

It's more like "I'm going to stab someone in the neck" funny.

A lot of stuff is funny like that.

I cracked the laptop open (not literally) and had the drive switched out in a manner of minutes.

That was easy.

I turned the thing on and waited for it to boot.

Instinctively, I closed my eyes and waited for the sound of metal scraping metal as this drive died too.


Harddrive worked just fine.

Hey... Maybe this wasn't going to be so bad.

Pop in a Windows disk and set it to install.

Install goes fine.

I know. I was as surprised as you are.

Given my track record, I was fully expecting the laptop to explode and lodge a RAM chip in my brain or something.

I wasn't even bleeding yet.

Reboot again and the laptop opens on a fresh and clean desktop.


Honestly, the whole thing went as smooth as silk. I can't even believe how easy that...


Why isn't the touchpad working?

Oh, oh. Maybe it was a driver thing. I better check in the device manager and see if the driver needs updating.


There was no touchpad listed.

My new laptop was trying to tell me that it doesn't have a touchpad.

I found this very strange as I could actually see the touchpad.

At this point, I decided my laptop is a damned liar.

I then tried to reason with the laptop.

[GM]Dave>> It's right there.

No luck. Apparently, laptops are impervious to logic.

It must be a woman.

That was a joke. Stop writing hate mail.

So, now I had a laptop with no touchpad.

Actually, I had a laptop that said it had no touchpad.

I was a little unsure of how to handle the situation. My usual tactic of feeding whatever is aggravating me to the nearest dragon did not seem to apply.

Though, that might make a nice plan B.

Falling back on my years of computer experience, I decided it was probably a bios problem.

In case you didn't get that from the title.

I immediately rebooted it and hit the key to get into the bios.

Strangely, it didn't take me to a bios menu.

Instead, this weird message popped up.

Something about a bios password.


Honestly, I was starting to wonder if the damned thing was just screwing with me.

In my haste to rescue this poor, poor laptop from the brink of destruction, I had failed to ask if he had put in a bios password.

I decided to see if it was something obvious.


Nope. Not password.




Nope. Though that's the combination on my luggage.

Do you know what's really funny? Manufacturers who give you three chances and then boot you out of the menu anyway.

Ha freakin' ha.

Hours later, I still had not found the password and was honestly considering just jamming a butterknife under the CMOS battery.

I'm not sure if I was hoping to reset the password or possibly electrocute myself.

At that point, it really was a toss up.

This is when Susan suggested we just use a USB mouse.

I suggested that we might as well live in a cave and cook our food over an open fire.

Susan suggested I sleep on the couch.

This morning, tired and broken, I stumbled into work.

I didn't even bother heading toward my desk for my morning drink. I went straight to the guy's section and waited for him to show up.

There are few things worse than finding a tired, angry [GM]Dave waiting for you when you get to work.

A tired, angry, SOBER [GM]Dave is one of them.

[GM]Dave>> Bios...
[GM]Dave>> Password...
[GM]Dave>> Now.
Guy>> Shit, man.
Guy>> You look like hell.
[GM]Dave>> Bios...
[GM]Dave>> Password...
[GM]Dave>> Now.
Guy>> Oh... Password...
Guy>> Uhh...
[GM]Dave>> Bios...
Guy>> I get it, I get it.
Guy>> What was that password again?

Apparently, the look in my eye must have frightened him because his mind instantly kicked into high gear.

Guy>> Oh, the bios password...
Guy>> Puppy.
[GM]Dave>> I'm sorry.
[GM]Dave>> What?
Guy>> Well, when I got the laptop...
Guy>> My girlfriend and I had just got this new puppy.
[GM]Dave>> Your password...
[GM]Dave>> Was puppy?
Guy>> Yeah.
Guy>> Man, I miss that dog.
Guy>> He used to do the cutest thin...

I didn't quite catch the next few words.

Probably had something to do with my hands being around his throat.


Tuesday, November 11, 2008


So, I was at work yesterday when I heard someone say something really stupid.

That really shouldn't have surprised me. I know people say stupid things at work.

I mean dumber than usual.

It was about a quarter past nine so, of course, I was on my first break of the day. I was walking over to the coffee (the Jack Daniel's would be added back at my desk), when I heard two people talking.

Then I heard a guy say

Guy>> Yeah, the harddrive failed on my laptop.
Guy>> I'm just going to get rid of it and get a new one.

Then my head exploded.

He... He was going to throw away a laptop because of a harddrive failure?

There are poor people all over the world that would love to have a new laptop.

Wait... Did I say poor people?

I meant me.

I'd love a new laptop and this jerk is just tossing one in the garbage.

That's a defense for homicide, isn't it?

Sure, I already have a laptop.

And yeah, my house is kind of infested with computers.

So what?

A free laptop is a free laptop.

It could be a Commodore 64 laptop for all I cared.

Or an Apple.

No... Even I have lines I wouldn't cross.

Now, how to approach the situation... Should I ask for the laptop? Should I offer to fix it for him and see if he offers to let me have it?

Oh... HEY! I have an idea!


I never said it was a good idea.

Guy>> What?
Guy>> What'd I do?

It says a lot about my reputation around the office that he actually flinched backwards as if I were about to hit him.

I'd never do that.

I mean I wouldn't have warned him.

[GM]Dave>> You...
[GM]Dave>> You were going to...
[GM]Dave>> I can't even say it.
Guy>> What?
Guy>> What?!
[GM]Dave>> You were going to throw away a laptop.
Guy>> ... Oh.
Guy>> Yeah.
Guy>> So?
[GM]Dave>> So?
[GM]Dave>> SO?!
[GM]Dave>> Someone might want that laptop.
Guy>> Who?
[GM]Dave>> What about that guy?
[GM]Dave>> Or that guy over there?
[GM]Dave>> Or him? He's a nice guy.

I should point out that I pointed at myself all three times.

Guy>> Did you...
Guy>> Did you want it?
[GM]Dave>> Well... if you don't want it.
[GM]Dave>> I suppose I could take it off your hands.

That was easy. I didn't even have to resort to physical violence.

Unfortunately, that means I don't get to resort to physical violence.

I do so enjoy the physical violence. It really helps take the edge off a long morning.

I mean, it was twenty after nine and I hadn't had a drink yet.

Can you imagine?

Guy>> Okay, you can have it.
Guy>> I'll bring it tomorrow.
[GM]Dave>> Tomorrow?
[GM]Dave>> Why tomorrow?
Guy>> Well, I left it home.
Guy>> We'd have to drive to my house.
[GM]Dave>> Yeah, let's do that.
Guy>> You want to drive to my house?
[GM]Dave>> Sure.
[GM]Dave>> We can borrow my friend's car.
Guy>> I guess...
[GM]Dave>> One last thing, though...
Guy>> Yeah?
[GM]Dave>> Can I borrow your car?

You'd think it would be an uncomfortable drive. You're sitting in someone else's car while they drive you to their house to give you a laptop.

Very awkward.

At least, I assume it would be awkward.

Since I really don't care about the feelings of others, it was actually kind of nice.

We finally arrived at his place and we went inside to get the laptop. It wasn't new or anything, but it was well worth the money I was paying.

[GM]Dave>> There, there.
[GM]Dave>> I won't let the bad, stupid man hurt you anymore.
Guy>> I'm right here.
[GM]Dave>> I know.

See, kids? Just because something is broken doesn't mean you throw it away.

Just wait until someone you barely know yells at you until you give it to them.

It's like recycling, but with more emotional trauma.

And we saved a tree or something.

I don't know.


Saturday, November 08, 2008

... Whut?

I'm not sure exactly when society went insane.

When I was a kid, TV shows were normal. We had Astroboy (the good one), Transformers (the good one), and GI Joe (the good one).

Oh, and Centurions. I friggin' loved Centurions.

Even kids shows were pretty good. Remember Teddy Ruxpin? That show was awesome.

Then, when I had my own child, I had to start watching what passes for children's television today.




See, I had prepared myself. I was ready for the Barney videos and the Teletubbies.

Most of the people I knew with kids started warning me about how stupid these shows were. I was ready to ban the damned shows all together until they told me how they can calm kids down.

Grudgingly, I decided to give them a chance.

We had our alliance... For as long as such a thing can last.

Honestly, after watching the shows, I wasn't that upset.

Sure, the shows were apparently designed by people with severe brain damage, but I could understand why they would be interesting for a kid.

Or a guy on acid.

So, I felt I was adequately prepared for children's programming.

I was... Wrong.

My daughter's current favorite show is an abomination called In The Night Garden.

I can only assume that the creation of this show involved several pentagrams drawn in human blood.

I know, I know. It's unfair of me to assume like that.

It could have been goat's blood.

This show... This show is pure evil.

Just watching it makes me want to stick my finger in through my eye and swirl my brain around.

You probably think I'm exaggerating.

Trust me. I am not.

The main characters are possibly the most frightening things you will see on television.

Because I believe in educating you (and because I'm a cruel, cruel man)...

This is Iggle Piggle.
Hey, do you know the only thing worse than a Teletubby?

A teletubby with a brain tumor.

Look at his friggin' head. I'm just waiting for the episode where House shows up and tries to figure out what the hell is wrong with this guy.

Just looking at him freaks me the hell out.

This is Upsy Daisy.
Boss, we have to create another character for this show.

How about Little Nancy the Burn Victim?

... I'll figure it out.

I'm sure the character has a sort of Raggedy Ann quality, but I don't remember Raggedy Ann requiring several skin grafts.

How could this show get any worse? They'd have to create a character composed entirely out of human feces.

This is Makka Pakka.
No, your eyes are not mistaken.

He looks like a pile of shit.

What else do I really have to say?

So, we have a guy with elephantitis, the poster child for fire safety, and something that could only be enjoyed by two girls and a cup.

Yeah... That sounds like good programming.

Hey, maybe we should throw in a bunch of inbred, children of the corn, mutant kids in the mix.

I'm not even making this up.

You'd think there was no way on the planet any child could possibly enjoy this freaking show.

Oh hell no.

This shit is like baby crack. As soon as it comes on, she just stops whatever she's doing and sits there staring.

I've actually stopped a few times to make sure she's breathing.

I'd turn it off, but it makes her so happy.

And quiet. Did I mention the quiet?

As much as I hate this freakin' show, after enough hours of sleep deprivation, you'll take any quiet you can get.

Plus, this is a lot easier than slipping her Nyquil.

Thursday, November 06, 2008


A lot of people worked very hard to design FFXI.

There was like 12 guys.


One of the main roles of this group was to create and design each job class to be viable and distinct.

Paladins were meant to be tanks.

Dragoons were meant to be damage dealers.

Black Mages were meant to blow shit up.

Ka boom and shit.

They did this job very well. They took time to consider the strengths and weaknesses of each job class to ensure a varied and interesting selection.

And yet... Players don't seem to understand that.

A White Mage is a White Mage. They are dedicated healers and...

Well... They're healers.

They heal things.

A Summoner is not a White Mage.

Sure, a Summoner usually subs White Mage to act as a back up healer in emergency situations. It's possibly the only universally accepted subjob.

That doesn't make them a White Mage.

I actually put off leveling Summoner for a long time.

A very long time.

Most of my job choices revolved around hurting things. I was always the guy who was stabbing the thing, or setting the thing on fire, or stabbing the thing...

I'm a big fan of the stabbing.

But there were other factors.

Pretty much every Summoner I talked to told me that I'd spend most of my time acting as a second rate healer.

I didn't really want to be a healer. If I wanted to be a healer, I'd have leveled White Mage.

See, I'm not retarded.

This made Summoner a less than compelling choice.

Oh, did I mention my main character is Elvaan?

For those of you unfamiliar with the specific strengths of each of the races and job classes, let me break it down:

Summoners need mp.

Elvaans have terrible mp.

Any questions?

That's strike two.

Or three.


Still, as most of my jobs grew higher and higher in level, I decided to give Summoner a chance.

Do you know what's fun? Spending twenty levels summoning a radioactive squirrel.

I gave it a shot. You know, try and see what newer players without access to higher jobs have to put up with.

Yeah... F&%@ that.

After 5 levels, I decided to go unlock all the avatars. If I had to look at that squirrel thing again, I'd probably have shot someone.

So, after a relatively short hiatus, I was back to Summoner with a wide array of summonable creatures to do my nefarious bidding.

Oh, is the monster weak to fire? Let me summon an avatar made of fire.

I was like a Swiss Army knife.

Okay... A Swiss Army knife capable of calling forth beasts composed of magic.

I literally have an avatar for every situation. Each of them has specific strengths and elemental alignments meaning I'm ready for any enemy.

Do you know what avatar I summon the most?

Neither do I.

I spend most of my time healing morons who can't find a White Mage.

I can summon a giant sea monster, a woman made of ice, a wolf composed of darkness, or even a demon born from a nightmare.

Unfortunately, I can't afford to summon those guys because that costs mp that I have to conserve to save idiots who draw hate.

You can imagine how frustrating that might be.

Answer: very.

Do you know what I'm going to do tomorrow? I'm going to play as a White Mage.

Then I'm going to sub Summoner.

Then, I'm not going to heal ANYBODY. I'm going to spend every party summoning Carbuncle and letting him melee the enemy.

And anyone who complains gets fed to Jormy.


I friggin' hate people.

Tuesday, November 04, 2008


Okay, there's still some time left for some of you.

If you haven't voted yet, get off your ass and go.


Right now.

I don't care if you're camping Mee Deggi.

He'll understand.

All kidding aside, this is the one chance you get to have your voice heard. If you don't take this opportunity, then someone else will take it for you.

Did you vote for me?

Of course not. I'm an evil dictator.

Now, any time I choose, I can log in and turn your character into so much digital ruin and dragon kibble.

Don't you wish you had been given the chance to vote?

No, you're answer doesn't really matter. I'm still going to be a dictator tomorrow.

As a matter of fact, I wrote down the names of everyone who nodded when they read that question.

You'll DEFINITELY see me tomorrow.

Seriously, if you haven't voted, then you should. The game will wait.

Here... Look, I just hit pause.

You've got time.

I'll make a sandwich and we'll play in a little while.


What are you waiting for?


Note: If you are not actually in America, then this post probably didn't mean very much to you. It may not even have been funny.

For you, I give you one of my favorite jokes:

Two drums and a set of cymbals fell off a cliff...

Bah dump psshhhh


Oh shut up. That was funny.

Sunday, November 02, 2008

Daylight Hating Time


"Daylight saving time is the convention of advancing clocks so that afternoons have more daylight and mornings have less. Typically clocks are adjusted forward one hour near the start of spring and are adjusted backward in autumn. Modern DST was first proposed in 1907 by the English builder Willian Willett. Many countries have used it since then; details vary by location and change occasionally."

- Wikipedia

You know, if you bothered to read it, the wikipedia page on Daylight Savings Time is quite extensive and contains a wealth of helpful and pertinent information.

After spending some time reading it, I feel I understand it quite well.

Do you know who doesn't understand Daylight Savings Time?

F&%@ing kids.

My daughter and I have this sort of unspoken understanding. She sleeps until a certain time in the morning and I don't drop her off at the nearest hospital.

It's a good deal.

Usually, she wakes up around 7:30 in the morning which, I've heard from other parents, is not that bad.

It's especially "not bad" for me, as it's usually Susan who gets up with her.

Except Sundays.

See, Sunday is the day Susan gets to sleep in.

My wife and I have this sort of unspoken understanding. She sleeps until a certain time in the morning and I don't have to go to the nearest hospital.

It's a good deal.

So, this morning at 7:30 am, my darling daughter woke up.

Except it wasn't 7:30 am.

It was what USED TO BE 7:30 am.

For those of you unfamiliar with Daylight Savings Time, that would be 6:30 am.

What the hell?

Why is there even a 6:30 in the morning anyway? Does anyone actually get up then?

I mean other than hyper children.

I'm not functional at 6:30 am. She on the other hand was ready to go.

She'd probably be better off staying in bed until a reasonable hour. That early in the morning, I don't know which one of us would need more supervision.

The last thing I need is to drown in a bowl of Frosted Flakes.

Do you know what happens if you drown in your Frosted Flakes?

People make fun of you in heaven.

Then you have to go hang out in the back with all the idiots who died sky diving or playing lawn darts.

Still, since if was my turn to get up (and I prefer my internal organs to remain internal), I got up with her.

At 6:30.

In the morning.

There's not enough coffee in the world for that. I'd have to have Juan Valdez pumping that shit directly into my veins.

Yeah, I should totally be in charge of another person's life at that point. I'm trying to figure out where to get a syringe and directions to a Starbucks, and I'm responsible for a kid.

That's a joke.

Who the hell would need directions to a Starbucks?

Just throw a rock in any direction. You're bound to hit one.

A quick search of Wikipedia later, I am aware that injecting coffee directly into your bloodstream could be counterproductive.

And that's when I looked up Daylight Savings Time.

To be honest, I don't think my daughter got as much out of it as I did.

Even after I read it to her.

Several times.


I wonder just HOW counterproductive...