Things I Hate - Addendum
This is a special addition to the list of things I hate.
As in short bus special.
This person actually deserves their own distinct list of things I hate because every time I start to think that I hate this person as much as I possibly could, they do something even more retarded.
Who could this person be?
Orange tan douchebags?
No. As much as I hate these people they do not deserve their own spot on any list.
Well... Maybe one list
Oh, I completely agree that these people are worth hating. If I ever actually saw one of these people, I'd have to punch him in his puckered, day glow orange face.
Seriously. What the hell is wrong with these people?
Still, not deserving of their own list.
Girls in big sunglasses?
While I agree that this is one of the dumbest fads in recent memory, at least the sunglasses keep us from having to see the dull, glazed over look in their eyes.
Orange tan douchebags in big sunglasses?
I know I totally made this one up, but you have to admit that picture is pretty funny.
No, no, no. This special addition to the list is saved for one person who has struggled and clawed their way to the top of the list of people I am sick of hearing about.
Jesus, just look at that picture. It looks like she fell out of the ugly tree and hit every branch on the way down.
Then landed on the ugly rock.
And why do I hate Amy Winehouse, you may ask.
Because I'm just sick and damned tired of hearing about her.
Did you know she sang a song once?
Yeah, I forgot, too.
Apparently, her song was about not going to rehab.
The original title was going to be "Ironic", but that name was taken.
Amy Winehouse is famous for singing one song and then throwing her entire life away on drugs and alcohol.
She's like Jim Morrison except she skipped that entire part about actually writing a number of songs people even care about.
Seriously, people. One song.
ONE FREAKIN' SONG!
AND SHE ENDED UP GOING TO REHAB ANYWAY!Tried to make me go to rehabAnd I said no, no, no.Then I reevaluated my current situationAnd decided rehab was probably a good idea.
Why is this person even famous?
Before you try and pull that "But she's so talented" crap, I'm going to warn you that that really doesn't mean shit to me.
First off, she's not that talented.
Second, there are lots of talented people out there.
And many of them don't go on week long crack binges.
Or look disturbingly like Skeletor.
Can we all, as a civilization, just move on and forget that this ever happened?
From now on, if anyone mentions Amy Winehouse, you say "Who?" and start talking about the weather.Person1>> Did you hear about Amy Winehouse?Person2>> Who?Person2>> Did you see that rain cloud?Person2>> That's a big ass rain cloud.
Stop arguing. It can work.
We all just have to work together and we can get past this.
Can we do this? For me?
Things I Hate
So, the past few posts have been calm and introspective. Perhaps I am actually growing up and mellowing with age.
Perhaps those pills are actually working.
Still, I felt that it has been too long since I laid down the law. This shit builds up and if I don't do something, I'm going to end up in a tower with a high powered rifle.
And I hate heights.
1) Anti-Game Legislation
Okay, if you don't know anything about a subject, you're the last person who should be talking about it.
Wow, video game violence causes real life violence. I'm sure you have loads of undeniable evidence and research to back that up.
Wait... You don't?
Well, at least all the experts agree with your point of view, right?
Then WHY THE HELL ARE YOU EVEN TALKING?!
Damn, there's not a day that goes by that I don't see someone in a position of authority saying something remarkably stupid about games.
Except replace the phrase "remarkably stupid" with the phrase "mind-numbingly, skull-f&%$ingly retarded".
You don't know shit and, quite frankly, you're embarassing yourself. Take a step back, breathe deep, and accept that you're an idiot.
Okay, it's time for a wake up call. Hollywood? Yeah, we're not buying this shit anymore.
We're not the ignorant neanderthals that fed your business in the 80's and 90's. We are educated and, more importantly, we're connected.
We are legion.
It used to be that a movie would actually have to come out before anyone would actually figure out it sucks. Then, by the time word of mouth travelled, you made your money.
That's fine. You got paid, you got laid.
Good for you.
That was yesterday.
This is today.
Today, movie reviews are out days or even weeks in advance of a movie. And that shit travels at the speed of light around the internet.
Was anyone really suprised when Speed Racer tanked?
Of course not.
We see through this glossy, flashy bullshit you're making now. You can blame it on games or pirates or whatever the hell you like, but when push comes to shove, we're just not falling for it anymore.
Man up or stop bitching.
Just get over it already.
You're white. You live in the suburbs. Your mom drives you to meet your "crew" or "posse" or whatever the hell you people call each other.
You are not gangster.
50 Cent is gangster. 50 Cent has been shot nine times and is still ready to throw down.
You would wet yourself if you even saw a real gun.
Pull up your damned pants, turn your hat around straight, and just shut the hell up.
You are not Jack Sparrow.
You are Jack Sparrow's weird gay cousin.
I realize that you have deluded yourselves into believing you are the FFXI version of some romantic, Pirates of the Caribbean badass. That probably makes you feel very good about yourself.
That would be wrong.
In truth, you're running around in a pink jacket with a frilly shirt and rolling dice.
It's funny. I don't remember that from any pirate story I ever heard.
You're not a pirate.
Let's all move on, shall we?
5) Jack Thompson
... Do I even need to explain?
6) The Bachelor/Bachelorette
What the hell is wrong with people?
Do we really need to see a bunch of self-centered idiots running around pretending they're in a serious relationship situation?
Susan watches this show occasionally and it's everything I can do not to throw the TV out the nearest window.
I barely care enough to keep up with the relationships my actual friends are in. I certainly don't give a damn about some woman that got chosen at random hooking up with 25 guys who also got chosen at random.
Have you ever heard of the Heisenburg Uncertainty Principle? Apparently, the people who watch this show haven't.
It states that the very act of observing an event affects the results.
Do you really think those 25 guys are really like that? Of course not.
Any guy is going to act all romantic and sweet when you've got 13 cameras pointed at him at all times. Things will be awful damned different when those cameras are gone and he's slouched on the couch asking the bachelorette to get him a damned sandwiche.
If you honestly believe this show is worth watching, then there's something wrong with you.
Very, very wrong.
As a subset to that topic, I also hate fake celebrities.
No, no. I don't mean Paris Hilton.
I hate her, too, but that's not what I meant.
I mean all of these people who get thrust into the public eye and we're just supposed to care about whatever the hell is going on with them.
Maybe I do mean Paris Hilton.
I'm not sure anymore.
What I really hate is people who become famous for talking to or about other famous people.
Gene Simmons. Famous.
Guy on Access Hollywood who talks about Gene Simmons. Not famous.
If you were famous, someone would be talking about you.
7) That Guy
You know that guy?
I hate that guy.
8) The Entire Cast of "The Hills"
Hey, you're vapid, useless wastes of oxygen. I totally want to know everything about your vapid, useless lives.
OH! Someone I hate broke up with someone else I hate!
Quickly! TO THE INTARWEB!
Every time I see one of these people I get a little dumber.
9) Girls That Say "BEE-YOTCH" To Their Friends
It's not cute. You're not cute for saying it.
Not. At. All.
You just look "REE-TAH-DID".
Honestly, I could do this all day.
Basically, if you're not a perfectly normal person that minds their own damned business, there's a good chance that I hate you.
Don't take it personal. It just means that there is something fundamentally wrong with you.
We're still friends.
Actually... That's a lie. We're not still friends.
Hell, we weren't friends to begin with.
But at least we've established that it's your fault.
That's something, isn't it?
Since You Asked...
A few people have sent e-mails asking for my wii friend code.
Now, the thought of that would have really concerned me a few days ago. I'm not really a people person.
I know. You're shocked.
But I decided to give my code out to a reader who seemed really nice. I've since messaged her a few times and I'm not that concerned about the whole thing anymore.
So, if you'd like to share friend codes, drop an e-mail to gmdaveblog at gmail.com.
Please don't make me regret this decision.
I think there's something wrong with me.
Yeah, yeah. You figured that out a looooong time ago.
I was going through my video game collection yesterday when I came to an interesting discovery: I've got games I've never even played.
That might not sound like a startling development to you. The fact that you're even reading this suggests a high probability that you're a gamer as well. Most gamers have a backlog of games they've either never finished or never even started.
That's fine with me. It always provides me with an option should I ever be overcome with crippling boredom.
I can just browse through my collection and find something new to play.
That's always good.
No, my discovery was interesting for an entire other reason: even though I have all of these games I have yet to play, I am still constantly searching out new games.
I just can't get enough.
For any of my consoles, I have several I have yet to play and yet, I'm scrounging around for wii points like a meth addict trying to find nickels.
I know I don't need them. I know I have a million other things to play.
But I still want them.
You know, if you'd asked me six months ago about old Nintendo games, I'd have said "meh" and gone back to my drinking.
Now, I sit and stare at the virtual console longing for games I had even forgot existed.
I want them.
One of my readers sent me a VC game recently. Bubble Bobble.
I hadn't thought about Bubble Bobble in years.
Many, many years.
And yet, when the message popped up, it felt like Christmas morning. I jumped on that game like a fat kid on a cupcake.
Bubble freakin' Bobble.
My living room has at least ten games I've never played sitting on shelves collecting dust.
And yet, receiving that game made my entire day.
I think there's something about gamers. I think we just like having them there. We like the option of picking them up whenever we feel like it.
Hey, I'm in the mood for a shooter. Let's crack that one open.
Oh, platformer mood. Got a few of those ready to go.
Part of me knows I might never play them. But I just feel good knowing they're there.
I always have something to play.
Still, part of me always wants more. Part of me is always looking for the new and the better.
Can you honestly tell me walking through a Gamestop or an EBGames doesn't make you feel a little warmer inside?
Doesn't all that potential just scream at you from every box?
I walk through a games store like a starving man at a buffet.
I scroll through the virtual console like it's porn.[GM]Dave>> What am I in the mood for today?[GM]Dave>> Oh, this one is just in from Japan.[GM]Dave>> Daddy like.Susan>> Why aren't you wearing any pants?
Okay... That kind of went to a weird place, but I think you get my point.
I think part of loving games is loving GETTING games.
You can talk all you want about graphics and lasting appeal, but part of you secretly loves the feel of a new game in your hand more than anything.
Part of me doesn't even want to play those games I have. Not because I don't think they'd be good. I'm actually certain that many of them would be great.
Part of me doesn't want to play them because when they've all been played, then that feeling will be gone.
Is that crazy?
But I have a feeling you guys know what I'm talking about.
Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go get my Bubble Bobble on.
RIP George Carlin
I was very deeply shocked today to hear that the legend, George Carlin, died.
George Carlin was a serious comic who really knew how to write a damned joke. He knew how to make his audience laugh whether they wanted to or not.
Most of his jokes made you start laughing even while your brain was thinking "Wait a second... Are you allowed to say that?"
I respect that.
I respect anyone that can take you outside your own mind so much that you laugh no matter what.
The man wrote a routine all about the worst words that you really aren't allowed to perform in public.
He then went on and PERFORMED IT PUBLICLY.
Think about that.
The man had balls.
He built his career around one of the most controversial, obscene comedy routines of the time and then eventually got a job doing the voice over for a children's show.
Yes, the guy who gave the world "The Seven Words You Can't Say On Television" is the same guy who explains to your kids why Thomas the train can't get up that hill.
That's a freakin' career.
Can you imagine his audition?Producer>> Okay, what might Thomas say in this situation?GeorgeCarlin>> Can he call Percy a C---sucker?Producer>> Umm...Producer>> No.GeorgeCarlin>> What about Motherf---er?Producer>> ...GeorgeCarlin>> Wait, wait. We can do a rhyming thing.GeorgeCarlin>> C---sucker, Motherf---er.GeorgeCarlin>> Toss in a few train whistles and we're done.
You may not know this, but I swear.
It's kind of a side effect of the job. If I didn't swear on a regular basis, I'd probably develop a brain tumor.
I try not to swear on the blog because a lot of people tell me they read this at work. I don't want to get those people in trouble.
So, I tone it down a bit.
Earlier when I said freakin', I didn't mean freakin'.
But I really doubt your boss is going to call you into his office over the word "freakin'".Boss>> Do you know why I called you in here?You>> Not really.Boss>> You've been looking at obscene websites on your computer.You>> What do you mean?Boss>> Don't deny it.Boss>> That one blog had the word "freakin'" in it.Boss>> For shame!Boss>> You'll have to leave Amish Dutch Country.You>> Are you serious?Boss>> You're gosh darned right I am.Boss>> Turn in your butter churn and get the gosh out.Boss>> Pardon my language.
Sure, I use the word "ass" occasionally. And I suppose "retard" might not be the nicest word ever.
But I don't go for the big ones.
Just because I don't use them here, though, doesn't mean I don't use them.
Thus, I have great respect for the man.
And, given my general lack of respect for most people, that says a damned lot.
Plus, this is probably the only time you'd see "S--t, P--s, F--k, C--t, C---sucker, Motherf---er, and T--s" on a tombstone.
At least... For a guy people actually liked.
What's In A Name?
Okay, this question has been bothering me for some time now. The more I think about it, the more my head hurts.
What the hell is with RMT names?
You can pretty much pick an RMT out of any crowd. It's something in the way they act, the way they stand...
The fact that their names don't include vowels.
This is one of the things that has always really bothered me about the whole RMT thing. As much as the whole gil selling thing is absolutely retarded, at least you can see a thought process behind it.
A method to the madness, if you will.
Actually, it's more like a method to the stupidity, but you know what I mean.
But why in the hell do they have random names?
You're running through Qufim, on your way to a party, when 6 guys run past you with names like Ffdkm and Qmxcv.
No, that's not suspicious at all.
What the hell was going through their minds when they were making their characters?
I'll give you a minute to bask in my photoshop skills.
Would it be that much harder to come up with actual names for their characters?
Would the other gil farmers laugh at you if your character was named Craig instead of Vnmkl?RMT1>> HAHA!RMT1>> There's Craig!RMT1>> He's so stupid!RMT2>> You got that right, Dfvbxq.
Sure, you might say that they're in a rush to make their characters and get to work.
Does it really take that much more time?
Nope, not very long.
Maybe they let the game pick a random name.
That seems extra stupid given their entire reason for creating the character in the first place.
The attention a random name will get you seems worth the extra three and a half seconds it take to type a real name.
I'm not asking for anything special.
You don't have to write an elaborate back story or create a fictional genealogy for your character. I'm not looking for a Tolkien-esque level of forethought put into a name.
But give me a damned vowel.
Hell, pick a random name.
I don't give a damn. Use a freakin' random noun for all I care.
Hey, there's a name your mother could be proud of.
And no one would give you a second glance in Qufim.Player1>> Hey, there's Ham.Player2>> Heck of a nice guy that Ham.Player1>> Darn right.Player1>> Not suspicious at all.Player2>> ... That was a weird thing to say.
You'd be the most popular RMT on your server.
Hptcxz is not a popular name.
No one is going to invite you to their birthday party.
Actually, most people are going to spit on you and call your mother a whore.
Your mother may or may not be a whore.
I don't know.
But no one would say it if your name was Craig.
Okay, I need some opinions.
I've been playing a lot of Wii lately, but never really got into the Virtual Console. Then, when Final Fantasy Crystal Chronicles My Life As A King came out on Wiiware, I had to download it.
Hell, the title alone made it a worthwhile purchase. You break that sucker out in any conversation and you just sound like you know more than you do.
Also, when I was checking the description, my Wii told me how many memory blocks I'd have free after the download.
If you need a bigger sign than that, then there's something wrong with you.
Dipping my toes into the shopping channel has gotten me thinking about what games I should download.
River City Ransom beckons to me.
Unfortunately, Susan continues to insist that we actually feed our daughter.
This means I do not have a lot of points to work with.
I think an appropriate term might be "excruciatingly few".
Thus, I need to be as efficient as possible with my purchases.
I was hoping that you, my loyal readers, might be able to suggest the absolute best Virtual Console games for download, so that I can maximize value for cost.
As I am able to scrape together points, I will use your suggestions to build a truly epic VC library.
Or a library consisting of River City Ransom and Zelda games.
Crap. I need more points.
Do they still pay money for blood?
I think that it is internationally agreed upon that Father's Day is meant to be a day of total relaxation for any father.
According to the short girl who walks around my house, I am a father.
Thus, it was my understanding that Sunday would be a day of relaxation for me.
This would turn out to be wrong.
I love Susan dearly. She is an amazing woman who goes out of her way to be an incredible mother and wife. She is proud to list those among her many titles.
Unfortunately, one of her titles also happens to be daughter.
Some of you may remember my past experience with her father.
I am sad to say that we have not since become the bestest of friends. I know that deep down somewhere he likes me, but it is REALLY
deep, deep down.
Like somewhere near his feet.
Or the core of the Earth.
Now, you may be wondering what this has to do with my Father's Day not being relaxing. I mean, how could Susan having a father possibly impact my Father's Day?
Pop quiz: how many of you have in-laws that drop in when they are not invited?
Yeah.HerFather>> Susan honey!HerFather>> Surprise!Susan>> DADDY!
Susan was very happy to see her father.
I was... not.[GM]Dave>> How nice of you to drop by.[GM]Dave>> Without calling.HerFather>> I wanted it to be a surprise.[GM]Dave>> It was quite a surprise.[GM]Dave>> You're lucky I didn't "accidentally" shoot you.HerFather>> Accidentally?[GM]Dave>> Of course.[GM]Dave>> If you had called ahead, I'd have done it on purpose.HerFather>> That's funny.HerFather>> You're a funny guy.[GM]Dave>> You're not laughing.HerFather>> I know.
Apparently, he decided to just drop in to see his daughter and granddaughter. This is funny because he lives in another state.
While I completely understand the sentiment of dropping by, he failed to consider how this would impact me.
OR he considered how this would impact me, giggled to himself, and did it anyway.
Either way, it's Father's Day and I am in no way relaxed.
Maybe he'll just stay a few minutes and leave.Susan>> What are you doing here?HerFather>> Actually, I came to take Dave golfing.HerFather>> For Father's Day.[GM]Dave>> I love golf.HerFather>> Really?[GM]Dave>> Yeah.[GM]Dave>> Let me go get the wiimotes.
Did you know golf is an actual sport?
Like one they play outside?
Did you know Susan's father has no sense of humor?HerFather>> We'll be home later.Susan>> Are you sure, Daddy?HerFather>> Not really.[GM]Dave>> I have to ask.[GM]Dave>> Is this just a ruse to get me in the woods and kill me?HerFather>> Get in the car.
I learned something interesting that day. I learned that it is entirely possible to spend time with your father-in-law and get to know him as a friend.
I learned that by watching some other people on the course.
They looked happy.
I also learned that golf is a Scottish term that means "5 hours of an angry ex-cop cursing on you."
This was not a fun Father's Day. I went from relaxation to slight annoyance to a death march in the woods carrying a bag of metal sticks.
Of course, if I was going to suffer, I had to make sure he suffered with me.HerFather>> Give me a wood.[GM]Dave>> I'm flattered. Really.[GM]Dave>> I just don't think that would be appropriate.HerFather>> Did you see where my ball went?[GM]Dave>> Behind the tree.HerFather>> Which tree?[GM]Dave>> The one in front of your ball.[GM]Dave>> Geez.HerFather>> What did you think of that shot?[GM]Dave>> It was alot like an elephant's ass.HerFather>> ... What?[GM]Dave>> High and shitty.
Interestingly, it seems I suck at golf.
My favorite shot was the one where I smashed the ball with everything I had and got hit in the face with dirt. I immediately started looking for wherever my ball must have flown. The thing must have gone a hell of a distance considering how hard I hit it.
Then I looked down.
Apparently, I had hit the ball two inches straight down.
Funny how that never happens on Wii Sports.
Also, none of the Miis look at you with a mixture of contempt and disdain.
Eh, who cares? We both know I'm sleeping with his daughter.
And I'm the only one who finds that funny.
Five hours spent with Susan's father...
What a hell of a relaxing day.
Just Plain Wrong
I'm quite sure I've made my
feelings about WoW quite clear.
I'm not a fan.
Now, it's really nothing personal. Really it's more of a friendly rivalry based on mutual respect.
Sure, I've sent my share of incendiary devices to their offices. That was all in good fun.
... I think.
But honestly there are some lines you just don't cross, some acts that are just so fundamentally wrong that a thinking person could not even perceive of doing them.
WoW has crossed such a line
That is just plain wrong.
I don't consider very many things sacred, but stealing a man's DRAGON?
Damn, that's low.
I take this as a personal insult to me.
What's next? Will they name their next expansion Wrath of the Susan?
I'm a man who can get behind some stealing. I have been known to steal from time to time.
What? It's hard coming up with jokes.
But my dragon? MY DRAGON?
Have they no shame?
Oh yeah, they spelled it differently. That makes it soooo much better.
I wonder if they feel the same way about World of Whorecraft.
No, I did not make that part up.
I kind of wish I did. Then I wouldn't have to know that there are actually people who like this shit.
Seriously, what kind of person would take a man's dragon like that? Were there not enough random dragon names around that they had to go and take mine?
Now, I'm mad.
And I send incendiary devices when I'm in a good mood.
The Adult Gamer
Alternate Title: "Are you buying this for your son?"
As I'm sure most of you know, it's not easy being an adult gamer.
If we can even find time in our hectic schedules to sit down and play a game, people still act like we're doing something weird.
I don't know when I crossed that line into adulthood, but I'm sure I never saw a sign about leaving all your video games behind.
You'd think there'd be a sign, wouldn't you?
And yet, every time I mention video games to one of my non-gamer friends, they get this weird look on their face.
I'm sure you know the look. That kind of confused brow furrow like you just started speaking another language.
I've never really understood that.
It's not like I'm breaking out my pokemon cards and asking them to trade or anything.
And what if I did?
If another adult looks at me and asks me about baseball, I don't look at them like they're retarded.
Well... no more than I would usually.
Apparently, there was a memo sent out about what hobbies are appropriate for "grown ups".
I didn't get it.
I can buy a full outfit of camouflage clothing, grab a gun, walk into the woods, get drunk, and shoot an animal in the face.
Try to buy a copy of Call of Duty 4, sit in a nice comfy chair, and play it.
Now, don't get me wrong. I love a good, drunken face shooting as much as the next guy. Throw in some hookers and you've got one hell of a Saturday night.
But how exactly does me sitting on a couch and enjoying a game become the weirder of these two hobbies?
I remember one day I was talking to a guy I know. One of those friends of a friend.
When I mentioned going home to play some FFXI, he got that look on his face.
Yes, that look.
Maybe face shooting isn't that weird of a hobby.
Then, and this is the strangest part, he started calling me Mario.
As in Super Mario.
I mean, what the hell is that about?
That doesn't even make sense.
That's like hearing someone's going to go play baseball and calling him Tiger Woods.
(note: Tiger Woods does not play baseball)
So, I asked him what he does for fun.[GM]Dave>> So, what do you do for fun?
See? I told you.Guy>> Oh, I'm in to rock climbing.
And he thinks I'm strange for playing some video games.
How the hell does anyone consider rock climbing to be a normal hobby?
Do you know cliffs exist?
That's God telling you to turn your stupid ass around and walk in the other direction.
If you see a sheer rock face and think "Dude, I'm totally climbing that", then there's a good chance you probably have some form of brain damage.
The good news is that you probably don't need that helmet anymore.
Save your money.
I get that gaming isn't everyone's thing.
I accept that.
But that just means those other people aren't right.
They need to accept that.
It's like a compromise. We'll both agree that one of us likes games and one of us is retarded.
And damn, I like me some games.
Status: Not Dead
No, I'm not dead.
Anyway, the first part of the fan pack has been sent out and I'm currently working on the second part. It SHOULD be sent out some time tomorrow.
And, since someone asked in the last comments section, yes it's okay if you donate a few days late.
I like to consider myself a kind deity.
You know, there was a point in my life when referring to myself as a god would have seemed strange.
I guess things change.
Working On Fan Pack
I'm taking tonight to work on the fan pack, but I thought I'd drop a few quick notes here.
The pack is coming along nicely (at least what I've started so far) and should be quite enjoyable.
I'm including the usual exclusive stories by Susan and myself along with a couple of stories by everyone's favorite goblins, Smithy and Pathfinder.
Shaman asked if he could include a barbecue recipe. I'm a little worried.
The pack will also include the best of the fan art I've received over the past week, not including anything that involves me making out with FF characters.
I haven't decided if I want to do another movie review or a game review. I'll see what kind of mood strikes me.
Also, I've been working on the MMORPG survivors guide. It's a little series I'm working on explaining how to maintain your personal life while spending an inordinate amount of time playing FFXI.
Or... Ugh... WOW.
And since a few readers have asked, yes the reader who donates the most will be chosen to take part in the blog in some way. You can basically do anything short of global domination.
That's my bit.
If you have any other questions or anything else you'd like to see in the fan pack, post it in the comment section.
I'll pretend to read them.
Sex and the Susan
Don't get your hopes up. The title's witty, not accurate.
Hands on the keyboard.
dragged forced threatened to castrate
took me to see the new Sex and the City movie tonight.
Now, you're probably thinking that I didn't like the movie.
That would be wrong.
I actually sort of enjoyed it. Sure, it's not my style of movie, but I can understand why Susan would enjoy it so.
Also, the slight chance that this could lead to hot, hot sex never once occurred to me.
(Spoiler Alert: this did not lead to hot, hot sex)
Could I be angry at them destroying an established franchise just to make a buck off the movie?
Not so much. From the few episodes I've actually sat through, the movie seemed to be a fairly loyal extension of the show.
Given the absolute crimes against humanity video game movies have wrought, I'm really not in a place to complain.
Basically, a comic book movie is produced in a carefully designed process:
1) take established character with wide fan base and great potential
2) write epic, thought provoking script based on central themes to said comic
3) throw that script away
4) rape person who wrote said script
5) slap together 90 minutes of flavor of the month actors/actresses and incredibly expensive, incredibly bad CGI
6) film three minutes of plot
7) splice plot into movie so it does not make sense
8) laugh at people stupid enough to spend $12 to see it
Sex and the City at least gets credit for not assaulting the source material.
Was it the fact that there were only three men in the whole theatre?
Nope. That didn't bother me at all. Actually, the other two guys seemed nice.
They made a nice couple.
So what could possibly have bothered me?
Yes, the women.
Apparently, the trailers for this film must contain some sort of subliminal message saying you're not allowed to go into the theatre unless you're dressed like an absolute retard.
At least 80% of the women in the audience were wearing what they must only assume is high class fashion.
I don't know fashion, but I know retarded.
One after the other, these women walked in wearing what can only be described as an affront to vision itself.
Because they were so exactly like Carrie Bradshaw!
If Carrie Bradshaw weighed 900 pounds and bought her clothes at the local Wal-Mart.
One lady walked in wearing a horrendous purple sequin dress.
Do you know how many sequins were on it?
ALL OF THEM!
Just as my luck would have it, she sat next to us.
Actually, I can't blame my luck.
Technically, she sat next to everybody.
While we were waiting for the movie to start, all I could hear was this woman going on and on and on about how her own life was just like Carrie's.
I was leaning over to say something (read: ask her if Greenpeace has ever tried to push her back into the ocean) when Susan stopped me.
She stopped me by grabbing me by the face.Susan>> No.Susan>> This is my movie.Susan>> Sit down and be good.Susan>> You can make fun of her later.
Susan then spent the next two hours and thirty minutes watching a movie she's been waiting for for a very long time.
I spent the next two hours and thirty minutes working out exactly what I would say to that woman.
When the credits finally rolled, Susan said two beautiful, glorious words.Susan>> Go ahead.
It was like she opened a flood gate. The words just started pouring, gushing from my mouth. I unleashed a torrent upon this poor, pathetic planet of a woman.
I actually had to stop to drink some gatorade.
Looking back, I will admit that I may have gone too far.
Following her to her car was probably a little uncalled for.
I had no problem with the lady being big. That's cool with me. There are some big people out there who are good, nice, and intelligent.
My problem was this woman deluding herself into thinking she was some form of New York fashionista.
By the end, this woman could no way still think she was Carrie Bradshaw.
There's a good chance she didn't even know what her own name was.
All of the women on the internet, both of you, please listen carefully. Stop trying to be somebody else. You're cool just as you are.
When you try to pretend to be something else, it just comes off as a little... pathetic.
It's not like you see men doing this. When the new Star Wars movies came out, did you see a whole bunch of guys dressed up in silly clothes pretending that they were Jedis?
Maybe that was a bad example.
Stalk You Forever
As a lead up to the fan pack, I've decided to go with a special theme for the next few posts.
That theme is the socio-economic influences that lead to disparages between people of different nations.
The theme this time is "What. The. Hell?"
I dedicate this week to all those little things that are just too messed up to even think about. All those little moments that make you wonder if evolution is all it's cracked up to be.
I was trying to decide on a theme when my wife suggested I read a book to our daughter. She handed me a book called "Love You Forever."
Anyone who has read this book probably already knows where I'm going with this.
The book starts out very sweetly. It's a mother telling her baby son how she'll love him forever.
Hence the title.
She goes through the usual trials that all parents experience, but through it all, she still loves her child.
As he grows a little older, she still takes the time to go in his room each night and cuddle him.
Isn't that sweet?
She just loves her little boy so much that she sneaks in each night to tell him that she'll love him forever.I'll love you forever,I'll like you for always.As long as I'm living,My baby you'll be.
My daughter smiled at this picture and I realized that this was a very nice book.
Wait a second... What the hell?
This is where the book turned creepy.
The mother continues to sneak into her son's room when he's a TEENAGER.
She sneaks in, picks up her TEENAGE son, and cradles him.
But still, you could probably get past this. She just really loves her son and she likes to cuddle him while he sleeps.
I guess that's not THAT creepy.
Besides, just a few years later, the young boy becomes a man and moves away from home. Her boy grown up and living on the other side of town, the mother has to say goodbye to the child she loves.
Yes, that is a picture of the mother sitting in her son's bed and rocking him back and forth.
Her grown son.
And yes, that's an open window and a ladder in the background.
Apparently, mothers are willing to do anything for their children.
Including breaking and entering.
What is wrong with this freakin' book?
This is like the prequel for the movie "Psycho".
This shit is creepy.
But as weird as that last picture is, there's one that messes me up even worse.
This is a picture of the mother driving across town in the middle of the night with a ladder strapped to the roof of her car.
Think about that.
There are no words.
This little old lady ties a ladder to the roof of her car and then drives to her sons house to break in and rock him in his sleep.
She even ties a red cloth on the back of the ladder.
Wouldn't want to break traffic laws on your way to break into your son's house to possibly scar him forever.
I just can't get this picture out of my head. Long after my daughter had toddled away to play, I sat there staring at this picture.
That shit is frightening.
You'd think this book wouldn't be very popular.
People LOVE this damned book.
What the hell is wrong with people?
This book is one page away from being an episode of CSI.
And yet, this is one of the most highly recommended children's books in the world.
I think this is actually number 7 on the list.
Number 8 is The Silence of the Lambs.I'll love you forever,I'll like you for always.It puts the lotion on it's skinOr else it gets the hose again.
Tonight as you fall asleep, try not to think about your elderly mother creeping in through your window and cradling your unconscious body.
Good luck getting to sleep.
June Fan Pack
Apparently, I haven't been keeping track of time.
Since it's been three weeks since the last fan pack and I'm trying to stick with a nice, clean four week schedule, that means the next fan pack will be sent out early next week.
I was supposed to mention this several days ago.
I do that.
Usual rules apply. Anyone who donates $5 will become a member of the [GM]Dave Fan Club and will also receive a special fan pack.
This pack includes a number of exclusive stories, articles, some game reviews, a lovely recipe for beef spaghetti stir fry, some pictures, fan art, my theory that Oprah is secretly plotting world domination, and whatever else I decide to throw in.
This pack will not include the excessive number of fan art pictures I've received involving me making out with a variety of FF characters.
Some of them female.
Some of them not human.
One of them was a chocobo.
So, one week from today, I'll be sending out the fan pack to all the people cool enough to support me and my writing.
These people will also be given their choice of third world countries to rule when the revolution comes and I become overlord.
Well... Me or Oprah.
Honestly, I think I could take her.
This is a little epic for me.
What? I usually have an attention span that rivals a five year old with ADD on a sugar high.
Actually making it to 300 posts suggests that I'm either growing up or that I just really like laughing at my own jokes.
Did you hear the one about the gold fish that went broke?
Now, he's a bronze fish.
I guess that's a no on the growing up.
Good to know.
Anyway, I decided that I really needed to celebrate my 300th post in a special way.
I could have given 300,000,000 gil to a lucky player.
Nah. I don't like anyone that much.
I could have give MYSELF 300,000,000 gil.
Not necessary. By a strange coincidence, I won the mog bonanza.
Sshhhh. Don't tell anyone.
I suppose I could give 1,000,000 gil to 300 people.
But if I could find 300 people that didn't piss me off, I probably wouldn't have this blog in the first place.
In the end, I decided I had to do something totally unique and creative. Something no one had ever done before.
I decided to go with a bunch of 300 jokes.
Creative, I know.[GM]Dave>> SUSAN![GM]Dave>> TONIGHT, WE DINE IN HELL!Susan>> We're having dinner at your mother's aga...Susan>> What are you wearing?
Apparently, Susan does not have the appropriate respect for Spartan battle garb.
Now that I think about it... Neither did the guys in my carpool.
You show up for work in a black speedo and a red cape ONE TIME and suddenly you're the "weird guy".
What the hell?
It's not like we have a dress code or anything.
At least... I didn't think we had one.
This would turn out to be an error.Supervisor>> Uh...Supervisor>> Dave?[GM]Dave>> You there, Arcadian! [GM]Dave>> What is your profession?Supervisor>> Dave, you know that I'm your supervisor.[GM]Dave>> Stay your tongue, dog.Supervisor>> Are you okay?Supervisor>> You're acting a little strange.[GM]Dave>> Madness?Supervisor>> I didn't say madness.[GM]Dave>> THIS![GM]Dave>> IS![GM]Dave>> SPARTA!
And then I kicked him.
Do you know that it's against the law to fire someone if they're having a nervous breakdown?
Neither did I.
Apparently, I have discovered an easy way of getting a one week paid vacation.
Step 1) find a black speedo and red cape...