Bannable Offenses

And...

2010-12-18T07:21:00.000-08:00

And we're back.

I don't suppose you'd believe I was having router issues this entire time?

No?

Dammit.

Susan has been yelling (literally YELLING) at me to do an update and let you guys know how everything is going. I have been putting this off because I've:

a) been waiting for something bad to happen

b) trying to sleep in the few minutes when I'm not working or changing diapers or cleaning up puke or feeding the baby or bathing the baby or rocking the baby or telling the baby to stop crying or walking around at 4 am with the baby in my arms because she feels like screaming instead of sleeping and Susan is making comments about murdering one or both of us if she can't get an hour's sleep

On an unrelated note: Parenting is AWESOME!

No, everything is going great here. Our little girl is super healthy and seems no worse for wear. The only thing was she was really small and we're taking care of that with breast milk and whatever bacon grease I can slip into a bottle before Susan notices.

Seriously, when that kid is old enough to eat solid food, she is eating at McDonald's every freaking day. I am going to cram chicken nuggets down her little throat until she's spherical.

If you ever have the opportunity to hold a 2 pound human being, I suggest you give it a shot. It will give you a new and profound respect for life.

It will also FREAK YOU THE F__K OUT.

Do you know what a bradycardia is? I shouldn't, but I do.

See, preemie babies have this funny habit of letting their hearts stop beating for no good goddamned reason. Seriously, she'd just be lying there looking around and then her heart would stop.

In case you failed biology: that is not good. Your heart stopping is counterproductive to being alive.

When you have a baby girl who weighs about as much as a bottle of pepsi and who tends to die at random intervals, it kind of messes you up a bit.

And I was already messed up before this whole thing started.

But she's out of the hospital and back home with us. The bradys have stopped and she's getting more and more like a people every day.

Soon, she will be ready to begin training in our ways. I've already made excellent progress in turning my older daughter into a tremendous geek. Her sister will follow her training just in case I ever have to lop the older one's hand off and throw her down a huge vent shaft in Cloud City or something.

You want to have a back up, amirite?

Everything is going great here. I haven't slept in weeks and I think I'm starting to hallucinate, but at least all of my girls are doing okay.

I'd also like to say a special thanks to everyone who made donations or sent messages in my absence. The notes really brightened my day and I made sure to spend donations on anything you guys asked. If the note said "buy some diapers", I bought some diapers. If the note said "buy yourself some Jack Daniel's", I bought myself some Jack Daniel's.

I love the person who wrote that by the way. The Jack Daniel's comes in handy right after you change a diaper.

I'm amazed at how awesome you guys are. Every time I read stories about how terrible internet people are, I feel like reaching through my monitor and slapping the writer in the face.

They just haven't met all of the great people on the internet.

They haven't met our people.

Thank you guys for everything.

Dun Dun Dunnnnn...

2010-10-06T17:58:00.000-07:00

Hell of a cliffhanger, right?

When last we left our plucky hero, his wife had just unexpectedly decided to have a person fall out of her months in advance. Said person was incredibly tiny and incredibly sick.

What could have happened?

Okay, I know it was a dick move not to post some news sooner. From a lot of your messages and the few notes attached to donations, I know you guys are really worried about my little girl.

In my defense, given the circumstances, I think I have a little right to be a dick.

Also, I was a dick beforehand, so this is just the way I roll.

To answer all of your questions, she is doing great. She's healthy and happy and gaining weight.

That last part is a big freaking deal. When she was born, she weighed just under a kilo. And then she started losing weight.

Yeah.

They can tell you that shit is perfectly normal in babies, but I'm not retarded. I know how to do math and not very much minus anything is even freaking less.

Also, in case this happens to anyone else, NICU wards are the scariest freaking places on Earth. Ever. I would gladly run through Silent Hill in a gold thong before I'd come back to this place.

The other night, I was telling Susan that the NICU wasn't so bad. Just then, the doors burst open and they wheeled in a set of twins covered in blood and wrapped in plastic wrap.

Kind of hard to finish a thought after that, let me tell you.

Everything is going well, though. Susan is officially on maternity leave (read: Mommy gets a free vacation and I still have to go to work like a sucker), so she spends pretty much all of her time at the hospital. When she's not taking care of our girl, she's hooked up to various milking apparatuses to provide food for our girl.

This, of course, leaves me to take care of our other daughter.

By myself.

No, I didn't think that was a good idea either.

My daughter now listens to people talk and then says "Cool story, bro."

I've ruined her.

All in all, it's been an insane five weeks around here.

Holy shit. It's only been five weeks...

This is probably going to kill me.

Time Flies...

2010-09-03T19:57:00.001-07:00

So, if you're reading this, you're probably familiar with everything that has been going on since Susan got pregnant.

I am writing this to inform you of the birth of our baby daughter.

Now, some of you are probably confused. Some of you are no doubt reading back through the archives for when I announced that Susan was pregnant.

I'll wait.

...

Okay. NOW, some of you are figuring out that that was not nine months ago.

I'll wait again. There's math involved.

Stupid math.

...

Alright. Are we all up to speed?

Good.

Tuesday, my lovely and very pregnant wife Susan decided to go on a little trip with a couple of her friends. Their names are not important as I am having them killed at my earliest convenience.

They went to a bed and breakfast more than two hours away. At the time, this did not seem like a bad idea since Susan was still 3 months from her expected due date.

It did seem like a bad idea Wednesday morning when her water broke.

Do you know that if your phone rings at 7 am, it is NEVER good news. Seriously. Just ignore it.

Our daughter was born while I was driving well in excess of any posted speed limits and cursing Susan's friends furiously.

I think I may have actually invented new swear words.

If someone calls you a Dongtanker, that means some serious shit, right there.

For those of you who may not have the greatest math skills (or reading ability as I just explained it), she was born 12 weeks early.

Yes, 12 weeks.

Imagine my surprise.

And because I'm sure we have a few "pics or it didn't happen" people in the crowd, I have decided to post a picture of her.

You may not want to keep scrolling if you're squeamish.

I warned you.

That is her shortly after birth, my darling baby girl.

I don't have any more recent photos though, as she had to be evaced to the nearest children's hospital for specialized treatment.

You know things are going just great when they airlift your baby daughter to an undisclosed location.

I'm pleased to say that she is doing amazingly though. For a baby born at 28 weeks, she is kicking some serious ass. She's already off the ventilator and is breathing on her own.

I know that doesn't sound amazing. You're breathing on your own right now and nobody is handing you a freaking medal, right?

Amirite?

Yeah, well, with babies like this, it's kind of a big deal. Let me have my little victories.

Get it?

Little?

I'm making puns.

Seriously, guys, things are okay. She is really doing well and all of the doctors are very hopeful. Susan and I will be heading to the children's hospital as soon as she's well enough to travel.

I just wanted to share this with you because you are my people.

Wait... Nope, not dead yet.

2010-08-15T17:29:00.000-07:00

I'd like to thank everyone for the messages they sent. I will try to answer as many of your questions as possible.

No, I'm not dead. Reports of my death have been greatly exaggerated.

I've been sick, but that's mostly just the random illnesses that my daughter (ie. The Umbrella Corporation) brings home with her.

Yes, both baby and baby mama are doing fine. We've had a few more scares since my last post, but my offspring are incredibly resilient.

No, I never noticed that I start to drift away from writing when Susan is pregnant. It wasn't until someone pointed it out that I noticed that the last time I took a break was when we were having our first child.

I think it comes down to having such a limited number of hours in a day. 24 isn't a big number. Between work, caring for my daughter, taking care of a pregnant (so very, very pregnant) wife, and maintaining my oh so many characters, I just don't have the energy to write a lot.

Yes, I'm still working on the book. Actually, I'm working on book 7 or 8 now. It's hard to keep track.

I just end up hating each story before I get done. It sounds so awesome in my head and then I write it down and it sounds retarded.

A couple of times I've caught myself writing books that have already been written.

I started writing a story about an office worker that kills everyone around him, but then somebody glanced over my shoulder and I had to go see a psychologist.

Related note: Apparently, everything is my mother's fault. If I have banned you or sent you an explosive device, you may want to take it up with her.

Ironically, if I now shoot everyone in my office, I have an excuse.

Random Thought

2010-06-22T19:06:00.001-07:00

Have you ever seen those shirts that say "No Blood For Oil"?

After the robot apocalypse, those are going to be terribly ironic.

ZOMG!

2010-06-17T08:24:00.000-07:00

Holy shit! Have you guys heard that the new Xbox 360 Kinect is on sale NOW?!

Seriously. You can go right to your nearest Walmart and buy one. Motion control, a new menu system, new games.

Did you see that menu? All your games and programs lined up in convenient little squares. No more flipping through screens. You just wave your hand and select whichever program you want to run.

And the whole thing only costs like $199.

Now, you're probably wondering why you haven't heard this anywhere else. Everyone else is saying that it comes out in November, right?

Not right.

I happen to know the secret password you have to say to get one of these fabulous devices.

And because you're good people, I'm going to share it with you.

If anyone else is in the room, just shut off your monitor and tell them you're looking at hardcore pornography until they leave.

They gone?

Okay, here's what you have to say:

"Excuse me. I'd like to buy a Wii please."

I've heard this always works for the new Playstation Move.

Then you just pay your money and head on home. Hook that baby up and you'll be the envy of everyone else on your block.

Assuming you live on the one block in the world where everyone doesn't already own a Wii.

I mean, do these companies seriously think we're this retarded?

Yes. Yes, they do.

This is just a blatant, bullshit attempt to copy the Wii. They're not even being subtle about it. They might as well have just bought a bunch of Wiis and put stickers over the name.

Their first big games are Kinect Sports and Kinect Bowling.

They're condescending. They are assuming we are so literally retarded that we will buy absolutely anything if they slap a shiny new name on it.

But we're not that retarded are we?

Yes. Yes, we are.

We are going to line up for days to buy that thing. People are going to miss mortgage payments just to get it.

Because we are retarded.

This isn't even subtle. They're kicking us in the face while laughing at us and we're paying good damned money for it.

AND they're acting like this is creative and original in the process.

I'd pay good money if they just admitted it.

Tell us they're screwing us. Just out and say it already.

Microsoft: We're don't make the Wii, but we like money, so yeah, here's a Wii dammit.

That's all I want. Just cut the shit and tell us the truth for once. Don't try and feed us a line about how you're the future of gaming.

You're the past.

Literally.

You actually made fun of this same idea in the past.

And now, you are that idea.

Dammit, some days I feel like I'm the only sane person left on the planet.

That's a scary thought.

One Step Forward...

2010-06-14T04:52:00.001-07:00

It wouldn't be a lie to say that I spend a fair amount of my time defending gamers.

Given the generally negative stereotypes applied to my people, I find myself constantly quoting statistics and figures about how gaming culture has grown over time and entered the mainstream. We are no longer those basement dwelling social outcasts that we were long thought to be.

Have you seen a console launch lately? Have you seen droves and droves of people ready to gut their fellow man just to be the first person to call someone a &%@ing Noob on a brand new system?

That shit is mainstream, son.

We are legion. We are many.

Yet despite this new acceptance of our culture, the general population smirks at us, their self-righteous smile visible above their American Eagle popped collar.

For some reason I can't understand, it is socially more acceptable to play extreme frisbee or beer pong than it is to play some Halo.

Seriously.

Now, this post is not another defense of my people. Since you are reading this, you're probably one of my people, so I'd be preaching to the converted.

No, this post is about WHY they think that about us.

It has nothing to do with the games or the systems. It has nothing to do with news stories or media depictions.

It has nothing to do with you.

It's this guy.

Yup, that guy is the exact reason why everyone in the entire world looks down on gamers.

He is the very essence of their argument. He is the embodiment of everything they laugh at when they hear the word "gamer".

This man... This man is why we suffer. This man is the reason that girls look at you funny when you tell them you play video games.

Yes, you know what look I mean. That first time you were on a date with a girl you liked. You're laughing and having fun and she asked what you like to do. You said video games. Then, you watched as her face started to curl into a look of disgust. You might have just told her you molest baby kittens for the sheer revulsion you saw in her eyes.

Yeah, totally that guy's fault.

And there's nothing you can do. No amount of Professional Gaming Leagues or celebrity endorsements will stop the damage he has caused our culture.

He weeps for his WoW account.

I weep for our people.

Now... Where Were We?

2010-06-03T19:15:00.000-07:00

Okay, apparently, I was getting ready to do a whole thing about WoW and private servers and shit.

Let's roll with that. Why the hell not?

Because I absolutely hate myself, I made myself a list of shit I had to do before I could quit playing WoW. This list was formulated out of:

a) self-loathing
b) a desire to not leave anything WoW fans could possibly bitch about
c) alcohol
d) alcohol
e) Wild Berry Skittles
f) alcohol

This list was freaking exhaustive. I don't even put as much freaking work into taking care of my own offspring as I put into that freaking list.

I had to level a Paladin to 80.

Yeah. A paladin.

Then, I had to level a Hunter to 80.

A female Hunter.

So, I covered two completely different job classes and two completely different genders. One was a hybrid class that included a dps spec, a tank spec, and a healer spec.

I tried them all.

I raised several professions and did dailies and all of that crap.

Yes, even the stupid freaking jewelcrafting dailies where you had to go kill an animal to get a tiny piece of bone or ivory or whatever to make something for the owner of the jewelry store who is apparently too freaking busy giving retarded daily quests to actually go out and get his own damned shit.

I farmed freaking titanium for crying out loud.

I did every raid that could possibly be done on my server. I killed dragons and... Other dragons... Blue ones... And... Some guys in Ulduar...

There was a lot of guys in there.

And another dragon.

And everybody dropped like seventeen pieces of loot. You spent ten minutes killing a boss and then ten minutes rolling for everything.

And lord help you if you roll for the wrong item. They'll slice your freaking throat for that.

I did everything that anyone could possibly suggest would make this game SOMEHOW better than FFXI.

I camped the Time-Lost Proto Drake. And killed it.

Yes, I got a giant, prehistoric drake that I could ride around on. I circled over a desolate, icy mountain range for days waiting to find it and when I finally did, it knocked me off my mount and I fell a bajillion feet to my death. I hopped back up and went and kicked it's ass.

You know what?

Still not more fun than FFXI.

Don't get me wrong. It was okay.

I might even upgrade it to pretty good if I didn't have to force myself to play it practically at gunpoint.

But everything was just... Wrong. Nothing seemed to have any real life or substance to it.

When I'm in Vana'diel, I FEEL like I'm in Vana'diel. I almost feel the grass under my feet as I run through a field. I can feel the cobblestones under my feet as I walk through San d'Oria.

In Azeroth... Well, everything was just there.

None of the monsters seemed realistic. Neither did the landscape.

Hell, even my character looked like a poorly drawn cartoon.

And seriously... Can we just call the shoulder armor experiment a failure and move on? There were a couple of times that I saw shoulder gear that was actually larger than chest armor.

That shit ain't right.

I'm starting to wonder if there maybe isn't a rogue modeler over at Blizzard with freakish, mutant shoulders.

Maybe I'm just a sucker for textures, but FFXI just seems more real to me.

The whole world seems like it's right there, right in front of you. The rocks, the sand, the grass, all just feel so real, like it was an actual world you're looking into.

But not a real world.

My doctor told me I'm not allowed to say that any more.

Thank You

2010-06-02T09:12:00.000-07:00

I just wanted to thank everyone who sent their support for us. It was all really appreciated.

And those of you who sent small donations and apologized for not being able to send more, you needn't be so silly. We appreciated everything you guys sent.

Honestly, anytime I hear someone say that gamers are a bunch of angry, impulsive, violent psychopaths, it makes me want to reach out and punch them in the trachea and then burn down their house.

You guys are all right.

So...

2010-05-31T07:59:00.000-07:00

I woke up this morning and looked in the mirror. As I gazed at my reflection, I realized that the face looking back at me wasn't my own.

That man in the mirror couldn't have been me. His face was haggard and drawn. Deep shadows nested beneath his weary, tired eyes. The man, himself, seemed but a shadow, an afterimage of a human being.

It' couldn't... Couldn't have been me.

This is my poetic way of telling you that this has been a REALLY crappy month and, to top it off, I look like shit.

As I mentioned before my "brief" sojourn, Susan, my lovely wife, is pregnant.

Do you know what's really freaking scary? Blood.

Not my blood. No, sir. That shit I'm used to. I fall down and cut myself and blood comes out.

That's the way of things.

I can't even begin to tell you the number of times I've woken up covered in blood without having to kill you when I was finished.

It's a vicious cycle, really.

No, I'm talking about blood coming out of my pregnant wife.

Yeah.

You might think you're tough. You might think that there is very little left in the world that can phase you.

Not so much.

The exact second your pregnant wife starts bleeding, you will be reduced to a pathetic child, a senseless thing capable only of wringing your fists at the sky.

Shortly after my last post, Susan saw a little bit of blood.

Hospital. Doctor. Ultrasound. Everything okay.

Good.

Two weeks later, Susan saw a lot of blood.

Hospital. Doctor. Ultrasound. Everything okay.

Good.

One week after that, Susan saw A LOT of blood.

Hospital. Doctor. Ultrasound. Everything okay.

Good.

Oh... And I had a nervous breakdown every time.

Good.

I have spent the past month trying to prepare my wife (and myself) for terrible, horrible news. Luckily, that news never, ever came, but it's effects were still severe.

Sleep was a luxury. I played more games than even I thought was healthy because I couldn't sleep unless I was exhausted.

I had to sell a lot of my games to cover medical bills. That shit ain't cheap, but apparently telling your wife that we can find out for free in 7-8 months doesn't go over as well as one might expect.

There may or may not have been groin punching.

Between all of the bills and then the lost work while we dealt with the problems, things have been pretty bad around here.

All in all, this has been a really bad month.

I know I haven't updated and I do apologize for that. There have been a lot of interesting things going on, but it's kind of hard to be funny when you're just waiting for the sword to drop.

Honestly, I was quite certain that my next post here would have been explaining how we had lost the baby.

I'm happy to say that won't be happening. Susan had another appointment this morning and everything is looking good. We should, theoretically, be out of the woods for a while.

Theoretically.

Bear with me while I get back into the swing of things. I have many funny things to write about and many more not funny things that I will write about anyway.

And you'll like it dammit.

My Daughter Wrote This

2010-04-19T11:58:00.000-07:00

elsgbaafbbbn vvvnhdfgghjkl;;vv ffffffffggggggaoggbfghfnfhfc jjgiydtuytryy hhhhhhhhdtrfhgsgdggjyglgkhk kkjjkjhghhikufkggjhjhkjkkkklok,llkp;ll;l;lklklljklk,kljlljlkjljljlk;;'
'
kgjhjhjiiiuioiioliolkjkjkjkkhl,jnkkjlklklljlljljlj,l,,mj,kj,,,j,j

,hoo

No

2010-04-19T11:37:00.001-07:00

No, I am not spending all of my time playing the Beta for an awesome new video game.

No, this game is not the most awesome thing in the entire universe, so much so that I am seriously thinking about giving up sleep entirely just so I don't have to miss anything.

No, I have not given up playing other games or even showering or the most basic of body maintenance.

No, I do not have an epic Beta Beard.

I have no idea where you could have gotten these ideas you silly, silly people.

I've been... Busy.

Very, very busy.

With... Stuff.

If I hadn't been so busy playing, I'd probably have come up with a better story. As it is, I'm working from some jot notes scrawled on a used KFC napkin.

The notes read:

Busy

Stuff

Yeah, I'm loving this game so much that I can't even form coherent thoughts.

Or lies.

That's how you know a game is good. Forgetting about your school or work or those other people who live in your house and call you Dad or Husband or Hey, I'm Talking To You or If You Don't Listen, I'm leaving You... That's just normal gaming.

No, if a game is so good that you can't even construct adequate lies, then you know it's good.

But I'm not allowed to talk about it. I can't even tell you the name of the Final Fantasy XIV I'm playing.

I'll give you a minute to crack that code, Robert Langdon.

Now, if I can only give up my body's pathetic needs for food and oxygen, I can devote my entire being to playing.

Kind of like Lawnmower Man, but not a terrible movie.

Can we get science on this already? What the hell are we paying you guys for anyway?

Oh, oh. You cloned a sheep. You made a sheep that looks like another sheep.

Bra-freaking-vo.

Let's get on this virtual reality shit already. We've been talking about this for a bajillion years now. I think it's time we made some progress on it already.

Man, why the hell do I have to do everything?

Where were we?

2010-04-09T12:13:00.000-07:00

Oh, yeah... Private servers and Wow and shit.

Gotcha.

Let's start with the whole private server thing. Pretty much since I started the blog, people have been sending me e-mails about the dreaded private servers.

Well, that and asking for nude pics of Susan.

Also, spam for male enhancement and watches.

My inbox is a comedy cavalcade, people.

I never really put a lot of time into the whole private server thing. It's just one of those things that we all know about, but nobody really cares about.

The basic premise is that you get to play a game for free on a server run by a private individual. This system has certain pros:

a) it's free

b) it doesn't cost anything

c) what else do you need, you cheap bastard?

d) did I mention it's free?

e) oh, they might make the game easier or give you free armor or something

That's about it. Seems really great, right?

Right?

Not so much.

I mean, I was totally on board with the whole playing a game that costs money for free thing. I like free. I enjoy free. It really seemed like a great idea.

Unfortunately, private servers are an idea that seem great in theory.

Like communism.

Or women's rights.

Oh, I'm going to get some e-mails for that one. My inbox is going to be even funnier than usual.

See, private servers are run by an individual with no vested interest in providing you a service. They are doing it simply for the joy of helping others.

... You can imagine how well that might work.

Let me explain this to you. I would not want to live in a town with a volunteer fire department. I would not want to be trapped inside my house, flames engulfing everything I own, with a bunch of people outside who aren't getting paid.

Fireman1>> Okay, guys. We're going in!
Fireman2>> Umm... Really?
Fireman2>> We're going in there?
Fireman1>> Of course we are.
Fireman2>> Are you crazy?
Fireman2>> That place is on fire!
Fireman1>> People are trapped in there.
Fireman2>> Yeah... See, I thought we could stay out here.
Fireman2>> Kind of see how the situation unfolds.
Fireman1>> How it unfolds?!
Fireman1>> It's going to unfold with that family burning to death.
Fireman2>> True... True.
Fireman2>> That could happen.
Fireman2>> Or... OR it could go out on its own.
Fireman1>> It's not going to go out on its own!
Fireman1>> We need to help them!
Fireman2>> Yeah...
Fireman2>> I've kind of got this Softball game tomorrow...
Fireman1>> What the hell is the matter with you?
Fireman3>> Hey, guys.
Fireman3>> What's going on?
Fireman1>> We have to get in there!
Fireman3>> Are you crazy?
Fireman3>> That place is on fire!

I'm sure they're nice guys. I'm sure they WANT to help. But when I'm minutes away from burning to death, I want to know that the people in charge of saving my ass are being well paid.

With a private server, those same people in charge of saving your ass have the very real option of not giving a shit.

That's bad.

As much as I talk about terrorizing the general populace of Vana'diel, I do occasionally help people. And the people all around me every day, freaking love helping players. They earn their paycheck.

Paycheck.

If we weren't getting paid, I really don't think we'd all get together every day and just help people out of the goodness of our hearts.

Now, don't get me wrong. Most of the guys running private servers are cool. They're providing a great service to people who don't actually want to pay for the official service.

But this is a server they are running as a hobby. Running someone else's game as a hobby.

Shit is bound to go wrong.

Here's your average experience on a private server:

Log in.
Select character.
Wait...
Wait...
Wait...
Okay, you're in the world.
Talk to an NPC.
Half of the NPCs don't work.
Lag.
Umm... Start a quest.
Most of the quests are bugged.
Lag.
Join a party/raid/whatever.
There are three tanks on the whole server and they're all busy.
Crap.
Wait...
Wait...
Oh, we got a tank. Now, we just...
Shit, the healer had to go.
Only two of those on the server.
Wait...
Alright. Got a healer.
Lag.
Start your event/dungeon/instance/whatever.
LAG.
Bosses aren't properly scripted.
Find a boss that isn't bugged and kill it.
Get great drop.
Server crashes.
Rollback.
Oops, your item is gone.
Throw computer out window.

I'm not kidding. This happens multiple times a day on private servers.

This may or may not sound like fun to you. Then again, some people like having people beat the crap out of them.

Whatever floats your boat.

My personal boat enjoys a server where shit like that is INCREDIBLY rare. And, assuming something like that ever did happen, someone would go out of their way to help you.

Or you might get me. That would be less than optimal.

I get that private servers are free. Trust me when I tell you that I get that part. I am quite possibly the cheapest man on the planet.

If Susan needed a special medicine to survive, I'd probably ask if it came in a generic brand.

Oh c'mon. Love is priceless, but saving three dollars is a big deal.

I also get the whole 10x rate, high drop rate, armor vendor thing. They're making the game easier and, in turn, more fun.

More fun assuming you enjoy less challenge.

Will the WoW fans please stop nodding?

Jesus.

While I understand these things, I still don't get why someone would choose an amateur service over the official one. You are choosing a substandard product with substandard service just to save a little money.

This isn't medicine. This is a video game.

Where are your freaking priorities?

Seriously.

2010-04-04T18:17:00.000-07:00

Some people have suggested that my last post was an intricate April Fool's joke, that this was some sort of prank I was pulling on you.

Really?

Seriously?

Does that even seem like something that falls into the realm of April Fool's pranks?

An April Fool's prank is tricking someone into thinking they're late for work. Or pretending you've hurt yourself and laughing at their panic.

You do NOT invent a pregnancy for April Fool's.

Admittedly, March 31st was probably not the smartest time to make such an announcement. Pretty much anything I said would be assumed to be an April Fool's joke.

That, however, does not make it any less true.

Susan is pregnant.

I am at least partly to blame.

See, we were both there at the time, but this was not the intended outcome. Unfortunately, my power extends to reproduction.

Frankly, I was hoping for a few practice swings at the time. You know, something to do between Mysticmaker spawns.

Instead, I have created life.

People have suggested that I am a god. I don't want to encourage that kind of thinking, but I will point out that it didn't take me seven days to do it.

48 hours tops.

What?

I'm a firm believer that if you're going to do something, you should do it right.

That shit takes time.

And Gatorade.

A freaking lot of Gatorade.

Okay... Here's The News

2010-03-31T05:52:00.000-07:00

So, I last left you with a major cliffhanger, telling you about some big news.

I then went radio silent for a bajillion years.

Now, this was not an act of laziness on my part. I am totally cool with just telling you when I'm being lazy.

I'm actually quite proud of it.

Things have been hectic as hell around here and it all relates to the big news. I have been working sun up to sun down for the past few weeks, and it's just not leaving me a lot of time.

Those of you who asked if I'm spending all of my time playing WoW...

I'm not even going to dignify that with a response.

I thought you knew me.

No, things have been rocked pretty well down to the foundations here. I haven't even had much time to play FFXI or even craft.

You know... Other than the hours when I'm supposed to be helping players.

I think they're actually learning to help themselves. It's a growth experience for them.

That guy stuck behind that table in San d'Oria? I think he's starting to like it there.

It's a nice table.

He even has a chair. He can't actually sit in the chair, but it's there and I think that's enough for him. Someday, far in the future, if we give you guys the ability to use chairs, he will be envied for his chair-adjacent prison.

Anyway, the big news. I know you've been dying to know.

I know that because a lot of people have e-mailed me asking about it.

So, I'm going to tell you.

I'm going to tell you the news.

Tomorrow.

Kidding, kidding. Put down the torches.

*ahem*

Susan's pregnant.

Huzzah! I am going to be a father again!

I'm also in the happy phase right before I figure out how much damned work and how many awful disgusting jobs come with being a parent.

Totally ignoring that part.

We have spent the past few weeks getting our house ready, painting the spare bedroom a nice gender neutral color.

I hope our baby isn't gender neutral.

If it is though, that room is appropriately painted.

Honestly, we're really happy about it. I don't even care what we have.

As long as it's a boy.

And not gender neutral.

I'm Back

2010-03-18T20:52:00.000-07:00

Wow.

This... This has been an interesting week.

I've been working on a sort of project for you guys. Kind of an addendum to an idea I started a while ago.

See, a lot of readers (A LOT) have sent me messages asking about private servers. Private server this and private server that. What do I think about them? Blah, blah, blah.

Recently, I decided to look into it.

Remember the WoW trial I played for a theme week? Remember how all the WoW fanboys complained about how it was only a trial and it doesn't get good til later?

A lot of readers have sent me messages about that, too.

A Freaking Lot.

If you haven't figured out where this is going yet, shame on you.

I have been playing WoW on a private server for a few weeks now. That is in addition to:

a) working full time
b) being a father
c) being a husband
d) cultivating my FFXI obsession

I finally wanted to lay the entire matter to rest. I have done every conceivable thing there is to do without actually spending every waking moment playing.

Susan and I sat down and made a list of everything there is to do in an MMO and I have been forced to do them all.

I'm serious. She's withholding sex until I'm done.

A man has needs DAMMIT!

AND I have formulated my thoughts on the private server experience.

Spoiler: Not good.

Susan also suggested I take a vacation from blogging during the process as I barely had time to think.

Please don't think I have forsaken you, oh loyal reader. I have driven myself to the literal ends of my sanity to finally put an end to this debate once and for all.

Or until someone bitches about something else.

My list is almost complete. I have one big thing left and then, I am free to rain my wrath down upon all of the haters.

Things should be back to normal tomorrow. That or I'm going to stab myself in the eye.

Either or.

Also, I may or may not have some HUGE news to lay upon you pretty soon. I can't tell you anything, but it is BIG.

BIG.

And Then Susan Got Mad... - Vol. 7

2010-03-05T21:07:00.000-08:00

This one... This one happened not too long ago.

I've still got the bruises.

Susan and I were up and getting ready for work. We'd both been working really hard lately and we were very tired. Our daughter was all packed up and ready to go to the babysitter's, when the phone rang.

It was Susan's work. There was some sort of water problem and they were going to be closed for the day.

She, of course knowing that I would have killed to have the day off, tried to be as nice as possible.

Susan>> You've got to work and I don't.
Susan>> You've got to work and I don't.
Susan>> You've got to work and I don't.

The entire rest of the time I was getting ready, she just walked around and told me all of the stuff she was going to do that day. Since our daughter had to go to the babysitter's anyway, she had planned an entire day of gaming and television.

I handled it maturely.

[GM]Dave>> I hate you.
[GM]Dave>> I really F&%@ing hate you.

It wasn't the day off that bothered me.

Okay... That bothered me a little.

What bothered me the most, though, is the way she was rubbing it in my face, constantly reminding me that she got the whole day off and I had to go back to the spice mines.

That wasn't like Susan.

That was like me.

And, because I'm a giant freaking hypocrite whenever it suits me, she would have to pay dearly.

I left for the day and quickly rushed to the office after dropping the little girl off. When I got to my desk, I set down my stuff, logged into my account, and then sent Susan's character to Mordion Gaol.

For no reason.

Maybe she wouldn't figure out what happened.

Susan>> Dave...
Susan>> This isn't funny.

So, she knows it was me. So what? I'm not scared of my wife.

She isn't behind me, is she?

Now, I'd like to say that I only kept her in jail for a little while as a sort of practical joke.

Not really.

Actually, I kept her there for roughly 8 hours.

Hey! That's how long my shift was. Isn't that a funny coincidence?

She probably went to watch some TV during those 8 hours.

Did I mention I put a password on the television so that it won't change channels?

From the e-mails I got from her that day, I assume she figured that out.

Eventually, after an entire 8 hour work day was behind me, I hopped in my car and drove home. Oh, how we'd laugh about it, my little practical joke.

Susan had a joke, too.

Her joke went something like "I'm going to punch you in your face."

Right as I opened the door, boom, right in the nose.

Luckily, she hits like a girl.

Oh, she didn't talk to me for days afterward and, even then, it was only long enough to tell me how much she wanted to murder me.

[GM]Dave>> Morning, honey.
Susan>> I'm going to kill you.

You could feel the love.

She got over it eventually. I guess she decided that it wasn't such a big deal and that, just maybe, she blew it out of proportion. It was totally forgiven.

Until the next time I did it.

And Then Susan Got Mad... - Vol. 6

2010-03-04T21:01:00.000-08:00

So one of the things Susan's friends like to do occasionally is to get together and play party-style board games.

*ahem*

Yay?

I've got nothing against party games as long as that party game involves me being in a party in a game I actually like.

I'll give you two guesses which one.

Or any game that involves stripping. Strip [insert game here] is the greatest game ever.

Despite my rather obvious dislike of:

a) people
b) social gatherings
c) social gatherings of people

my wife insists I go with her. She likes for us to do things together, outside the house and away from our computers.

No, I don't get it either.

Anyway, we're at her friends house playing a board game. It was some sort of bastardized Newlywed/Match Game bullshit where the men had to answer questions based on what they think their wife would say.

They should have called the game "RUN! IT'S A F&%@ING TRAP!"

Most of the game was going pretty well. I had managed to get answers that were reasonably close to what my wife said. I was actually starting to think that I would make it out unscathed.

Not so much.

Someone pulls a card and the question reads "Do you think your wife would get plastic surgery if you paid for it?"

NOTICE: The card does not say "SHOULD get".

"WOULD get..."

That's a big freaking difference.

I've heard Susan make offhand comments about plastic surgery. Nothing major. Just a little nip her or there. We'd just had a conversation a few days earlier about what she would change.

Her words. Not mine.

Also important.

I'm confident in my answer. I'm sure that is exactly how Susan would feel.

Then the first husband reads his answer.

"Of course not. My wife is perfect just the way she is."

He has, at this point, done two things:

1) traded in his testicles for a pretty new purse
2) totally screwed me over

The next guy says "I'd never want to change anything about her."

Oh.

Shit.

Now, They're getting closer to me and I know I have to read my answer.

"How could anyone make her more beautiful?"

OH, COME ON!

Then, it's my turn. The whole table is looking at me. I reach for my card with the intent of lying through my teeth when Susan's friend reaches over and yanks my paper off the table.

Yoink.

That sound wasn't her taking the paper. That's the sound my testicles made when they jumped up inside my torso for protection.

Don't read it out loud.

Don't read it out loud.

And... She read it out loud.

And then, Susan got mad.

You know, I'm actually getting used to sleeping on the couch. It's really quite comfortable.

And Then Susan Got Mad... - Vol. 5

2010-03-03T20:46:00.000-08:00

So what have I done to make Susan mad in game?

A lot of people have written me messages just to ask that question.

I mean, I guess I get it. I spend so much time in game, I must have done something to piss Susan off there. I must have done something in game that made her want to kill me.

All the freaking time.

I can't turn around without doing something to piss her off. That's a given.

But there was one thing...

Okay... This one was bad.

Really bad.

When we first introduced colored chocobos, Susan was desperate to get a green one. All she could do was talk about getting her own green chocobo.

She would get an egg, care for it, nurture it, wait patiently for it to hatch, and... Yellow.

Every freaking time. Yellow.

Even given all the slight rarity of the colored chocobos, she was bound to get some color other than yellow eventually. Probability alone suggested it had to happen.

She would get an egg, care for it, nurture it, wait patiently for it to hatch, and... Yellow.

Every freaking time. Yellow.

And so she would try harder. She'd care for it at different times of day or on specific days in the elemental cycle.

She worked really hard at it.

She would get an egg, care for it, nurture it, wait patiently for it to hatch, and... Yellow.

Every freaking time. Yellow.

This went on for months and months and months.

Egg, hatch, yellow.

Egg, hatch, yellow.

Finally, one day, she decided to just give up on raising chocobos because she was never going to get a green one. She looked so sad and depressed as she walked her little character right out of the chocobo stable.

That's when I told her about my "joke".

See, my "joke" was to go onto my GM account every time she got an egg and make sure it was a yellow one. Every single time.

I must have thrown away three green ones, not to mention every other color under the sun.

And then Susan got mad...

Man, you should have seen the look on her face.

When I woke up, the paramedics told me that she looked very angry.

And Then Susan Got Mad... - Vol. 4

2010-03-02T19:45:00.000-08:00

Okay, so Susan was in labor...

Yes, this is a story about how my wife got mad at me while she was in labor.

Now, you're probably saying that this is nothing new. You're probably thinking that every father has a story about his wife getting mad at them in the middle of labor.

Something about a tiny person clawing their way out through your genitals just makes women cranky.

But not me. Oh, no. I went above and beyond.

Before my beautiful daughter was born, we got to take these super fun, super interesting classes about all of the exciting things that would happen during the majestic phenomenon that is birth.

At least... That's what they tell you.

Actually, I sat in a small, uncomfortable room listening to a woman tell all the men what not to do in order to keep your wife from murdering you.

Here is the list:

1) don't eat in front of her
2) don't talk about it taking too long
3) don't leave her alone for any reason

Pretty simple, right? Just don't do those three little things.

Guess how many of them I did while Susan was in labor.

If you guessed less than three, welcome to my blog.

First off, the food. That one really wasn't my fault. Everyone who came to visit her during her TWENTY HOUR LABOR brought me food.

Let me say that again: TWENTY HOUR LABOR.

How am I not supposed to eat? I needed to keep my strength up.

And Susan didn't even offer me some of those ice chips she was getting. I mean, how selfish can you get, right?

Now, yes, I could have lat least left the room. Sitting in front of her eating a giant bacon cheeseburger when she couldn't have food... That may have been rude.

But I wasn't supposed to leave her alone.

Rule motherf&^@in' three.

She did not see it that way.

Second, the not talking about how long it was taking...

Yeah.

Have you ever sat around for your girlfriend/fiance/wife while she went shopping for half an hour? Remember how freaking annoying that was?

Multiply that by 40.

Literally.

I spent 20 hours just standing around while she just laid there breathing.

At least she got to lie down.

Am I right?

We were at the hospital freaking early. Like the sun wasn't even up and shit and I'm at a hospital waiting to get stuff done.

When five o'clock rolls around HOURS later, I casually mentioned:

[GM]Dave>> You know, I could have actually gone to work today.

Yeah, Susan didn't find that funny either.

And last, but most certainly not least, the not leaving her alone...

Okay, after 15 odd hours of standing around and trying to be motivational, I was getting a little tired. It had been an exhausting day, both mentally and physically, and I needed to take a break for just a minute.

There was a TV in the room and someone, for whatever reason, had turned it on earlier. I walked over, looked at it for two seconds, and tried to collect myself.

Five minutes, tops.

That's when I heard my darling wife calling to me. As I turned and walked back towards her, she was smiling.

Do you know sharks kind of smile before they tear your leg off?

As soon as I was within arm's reach, she whipped her arm out and grabbed me by the chest. I don't mean she grabbed my shirt. She reached out and grabbed a handful of skin.

I don't have a lot of lose skin to begin with and yet, she somehow managed to grab an entire fistful of it.

She then pulled me in so that our faces were bare millimeters apart.

Susan>> DON'T.
Susan>> LEAVE.
Susan>> AGAIN!
Susan>> I WILL F&%@ING CUT YOU!

To say that the look in her eyes was frightening is an understatement.

It might be more accurate to say that every sperm in my body that would have been capable of impregnating her in the future, spontaneously died.

Just up and died.

My wife is a beautiful woman. She is shorter than me, weaker than me, and honestly, I could take her if I needed to.

But that day...

Seriously. They just up and died.

Emergency Intermission

2010-03-01T19:11:00.000-08:00

Okay, I want everyone to calm down and take a breath.

Inhale.

Exhale.

Now that we've taken a moment, perhaps we can discuss this rationally.

Yes, they are going to raise the level cap in FFXI. Yes, the level cap is going to be 99. Yes, they are merging servers. Yes, they are planning on making a number of job adjustments.

That's everything.

We can all calm down now.

Some of you may be wondering why they made this decision. Why would they, after years of vowing never to touch the level cap, suddenly decide to raise it to 99?

Is it to make the players happy?

Haha. No.

What are you? New?

Is it to bring in new players?

No, not really. New players really can't see much of a difference between 75 and 99 except that one is larger than the other.

Hint: It's the 99.

Is FFXI dying?

Shut up. Just shut up already.

So why, oh why, did they decide to do it?

I'll give you the one reason, the one ultimate reason behind this epic decision:

Forums.

FFXI forums have gotten boring as all hell lately. Back in the day, every board was on fire with people arguing about subs and leveling and what party should go where.

Lately, that shit has gotten kind of stale. Everyone knows the best subs for every job and everyone knows where to level when.

BORING.

We're gonna spice that shit up. Pretty soon, your favorite forum is going to be overrun with players asking what's the best sub for every job at level 99.

Your opinion doesn't count, you n00b. You're only level 75 on every job with full merits.

NOOB!

Do you know the best place for a level 84 Black Mage to level?

You don't?

EXACTLY!

Oh, oh. That guy in Whitegate with the best gear in the game who just walks around showing off?

Yeah, day after update, that shit is worthless.

Worthless.

Imagine the threads that guy will start.

HAHA! It will be GLORIOUS!

GLORIOUS!

Man, this is so plain, unadulterated evil, I'd almost think I came up with it.

I should check my sent e-mail. Drunk me may be smarter than I give him credit for.

And Then Susan Got Mad... - Vol. 3

2010-02-28T19:48:00.000-08:00

Susan and I have been together for a very long time. Sometimes, it even seems like we've been together forever.

I mean that in the nicest way possible of course.

...

Over that time, we have become very comfortable with each other. We have learned to accept and live with each other's faults and shortcomings.

Except for one.

See, I'm not exactly what you might call the world's neatest person. I am more of a free spirit.

I have heard it described as being a slob, a pig in man form.

Susan, on the other hand, is an obsessive-compulsive neat freak.

Neat.

Freak.

Even though we've been together forever and she was well aware of my nature, she still, to this day, gets incredibly pissed off that I don't clean more.

Honestly, I feel for her. I'm sure it's probably very frustrating to live with someone who just doesn't give a shit.

And I really don't.

But, I'm going to have to play the precedent card here. I made my position on cleaning quite clear early on in our relationship. This is not a surprise or unexpected behavior. She went into this thing with full disclosure.

She may have thought she could change me.

Not freaking likely. She's more likely to train a goldfish to vacuum as get me to clean up.

I'm just not that kind of guy. Why the hell would you make the bed? You're going to get right back into it.

And wash dishes? We're just going to put food right back on there.

I'm just saving time and energy.

Well... My time and energy. Susan uses HER time and energy following behind me, cleaning up after me.

It's a beautiful symbiosis.

At least, I think so.

She... Does not.

When I started this week, I tried to think of some of the biggest things I've done to piss Susan off. There were so many (seriously) that I was having trouble narrowing it down.

So, I asked her.

This, it would turn out, was a mistake.

I expected her to list off a few times I made her angry and that she eventually got over. You know, look back and laugh at how silly it was.

Not quite.

Instead, I got to hear in tremendous detail just how much work it is to take care of a house and keep it clean.

And she was yelling.

She didn't start out yelling. Everything started out nice and calm and then slowly escalated in volume and tone until she was ranting and raving about cleaning the house.

The word "maid" was thrown about once or twice.

This was a conversation we'd had many times before, so I knew the best thing for me to do was just sit quietly and ride out the storm. Anything I said could and would be used against me in a court of law.

So, I sat quietly. And waited.

And waited.

And waited.

Things were just starting to wind down and I thought I might actually make it out alive. She was calming down and her volume was slowly getting closer and closer to regular talking. She paused to take a breath and closed her argument with:

Susan>> Why is it my job to clean up everything?

And I heard someone that sounded very much like me say:

[GM]Dave>> Because you're a woman?

And then Susan got mad...

And Then Susan Got Mad... - Vol. 2

2010-02-27T17:30:00.000-08:00

Men, oh you silly, unprepared men, I am going to try and lay down some excellent advice for you.

Know your audience.

Your girlfriend/fiance/wife wants you to know what her most intimate thoughts and feelings are. She wants you to understand her on a fundamental level.

That's not going to happen.

There's no way you can understand women. It's nothing wrong with you or with them. It's just that men and women think very, VERY differently.

What you need to do, as a man, is to try and think about what she would want to do, not what you actually want.

Think really hard.

Really hard.

And then, when you have finally figured out what to do, you're still wrong.

There's no way out of it. It's a trap that you basically have to stick your foot in. You see it sitting on the ground, sharp teeth glinting in the sunlight, and you have to stick your leg out and step right on in.

I present to you: A man's dilemma.

A few weeks before our impending wedding, Susan and I went to a store together. A store that specialized in intimate apparel.

A naughty underwear store.

To call some of the things in this store underwear is being generous. Much of their stock consisted of dental floss with the occasional bow or clip.

Yes, I was very happy.

Then, just as I thought we were going to get to the good stuff, Susan looks at me and says

Susan>> I have a fun idea.
Susan>> I'll pick something and you pick something for me.
Susan>> Then, we'll see if we match.

Warning bells started going off in my mind. No good could come from this.

Susan>> Don't worry.
Susan>> Pick something you like.

Then she walked away, leaving me to debate the situation by myself.

I said DEbate.

Now, there were two basic paths for me to take here:

1) buy something that I would like

2) buy something that I think she would like

I'm not an idiot. I immediately discounted number one. My opinion doesn't actually matter.

But what would she actually like?

Now, that had some creepy stuff in a room in the back. That shit was crossed off the list immediately.

Some of it was very scary. I think there was a hazmat suit back there.

So, I was left deciding between the romantic nightgowns and the very uncomfortable looking lingerie.

My first impulse was to go for the nightgown. That was pretty freaking obvious.

But was it too obvious?

What if that was the trap? What if she wants to wear the interesting stuff, but she wants to see if I'd like that?

I mean we are at a lingerie store. This isn't some sort of coincidence. It's not like we're in the Walmart pajama section or something. The entire store is designed around the concept of naughty underwear.

Plus, that stuff would probably make her feel super attractive. Wearing that stuff would make her feel sexy in a way that no stupid nightgown possibly could.

She'd probably be happy that I picked out something like that.

She'd probably thank me.

I swear to God, that's what I was actually thinking.

Women, men really are this stupid.

I went and carefully selected some very tasteful lingerie (read: four strings attached to a few of postage stamps) and headed off to find my wife.

I had my selection hidden behind my back. So did she.

She smiled. So did I.

Then we showed what we picked out.

I smiled. She didn't.

And what was she holding? That's right. A romantic nightgown.

My wife picked out a very nice, very comfortable looking silk nightgown and I had picked up something that looked like it was fresh off the set of a porn movie.

And then Susan got mad.

Apparently, "pick something you like" translates into "I hope you like hour long lectures about understanding your wife and respecting her feelings".

We didn't even buy anything. We just walked right on out.

Well, she walked right on out and I followed her while apologizing profusely.

Do you know what's fun? A half hour drive listening to your wife go on and on about how she's not your whore.

She used that word a lot.

And the word prostitute.

And Harlot.

I had to look that one up.

It means whore.

She didn't find me pointing out her unnecessary usage of synonyms funny either.

Honestly, I'm kind of surprised she even showed up at the wedding.

And Then Susan Got Mad... - Vol. 1

2010-02-26T20:07:00.000-08:00

Oh where do I begin?

The chosen theme of this week's posts is "The Times I Made Susan Angry."

How I'm going to pick out just seven of the many, many, MANY times this has happened, I have no idea. I have enough material for a theme month.

Or year.

Since I was not given any sort of criteria by which to organize the type of angry involved, I thought we'd go with a random sampler of the logical/stupid things I've done that have ultimately made my wife angry.

Part 1: Listening To Her

Women are interesting things. While they may be from the same area you are from, raised in the same culture as you, taught the same language as you, and even have spoken to you in your own language quite fluently, they speak in an entirely different language.

It is a subtle language where meanings of words are not based on actual definitions, but by subtle undertones that you should be able to pick out. Often, these meanings will completely contradict the meaning of the words themselves.

Here's a hint: If you think you know what a woman is saying, you're wrong.

See, women have this built-in system of saying things that are not true, but are designed to test your ability to figure out what they actually mean.

"I don't care" means "I've given you the choice, but I'm going to tell you you're wrong when you make it"

This is very interesting as it is completely the opposite of how a guy's brain works. If a guy says something, it means it is immediately true. There are no subtle undertones or meanings that have to be ascertained. Just take it at face value.

"I don't care" means "I don't really give a shit either way. Whatever."

This difference in communication can often lead to problems.

This brings us to Valentine's Day last year. Money was a little tight and as the day approached, I asked Susan what kind of budget I was working under.

She said, and I quote, "Oh, you don't have to get me anything. I don't want anything."

We agreed not to get each other anything for Valentine's Day.

Something should have gone off in my head. A buzzer, a bell. Some sort of early warning system. My years of dealing with women should have told me this was a trap.

Nothing.

Not so much as a doubt in my mind that that is what she meant.

See, if I had said "I don't want anything", it would mean that I really don't want anything. If I wanted something I would answer "I would like [insert thing/game/sexual favor here]".

We are a simple people.

So, when she said that, I took it at face value. She didn't want anything. I wouldn't buy anything.

And then Susan got mad...

Valentine's Day rolls around and I noticed my wife was acting a little strange. You could tell she was kind of waiting for something.

I, being a loving husband, asked her what was wrong.

"So... What'd you get me for Valentine's Day?"

If a man's heart can go from resting to five hundred beats a second, then I am proof of it. I went from being in a generally pleasant mood to suddenly fearing for my life.

Kind of like a cow. I was having a perfectly nice day out in the field when the farmer walks up and says he wants to show me his new hammer.

Bam!

The correct response was "Oh, I left it at the office. Let me go get it."

I know this because the incorrect response was "You told me not to get you anything."

Two guesses which one I said.

Hint: This is not Susan ALMOST Got Mad week.

I should have apologized immediately for having a proper grasp of the english language, but instead, I decided to explain to her how this was all her fault.

Basically, I was digging my own grave.

The last thing a woman wants to hear in this situation is anything even remotely related to it being her fault. Any intelligent man would just run to the nearest store and buy her a gold anything.

Me being me, I argued that point into the freaking ground. It was like high school debate club and that bitch was going down.

Except for the fact that that bitch was my wife and, according to the laws of marriage, a wife can never lose an argument.

Instead of laying out a solid argument about why this wasn't my fault, I was apparently explaining how I did not want to have sex any time in the near future.

Apparently, we speak a different language, too.

Honestly, my wife is a pretty nice lady, but that night I was absolutely positive that she was going to freaking murder me in the face.

All up in my face.

Here's a hint for you: if a woman ever says not to buy her something, go buy it anyway. Buy two of them. Hell, buy eight of them.

You don't want that kind of trouble.

Any man who says he's not worried is either delusional or single.

I actually leave randomly wrapped presents around the house in case I forget something. Kind of like emergency presents.

It's just good planning.

Really, the only solace I have is the fact that it really WAS all her fault.

Tomorrow's Post: Susan reads this post.

F&%@ it. I'm usually in trouble anyway.

Oh Yeah...

2010-02-24T20:17:00.000-08:00

I'm going to rock your world here. Seriously, I am about to drop a major bomb on you, the likes of which you have never seen.

*ahem*

[GM]Dave is not a good person.

I know, I know. It's more than you could possibly imagine.

I'll give you a minute to gather yourself.

See, a few people have been sending me e-mails wondering what ever happened to the last fan pack. Right before Christmas, I did a theme week and, at the end of the theme week, I was supposed to send out a fan pack.

That did not happen.

Why? Well, at the time, a lot of nasty shit went down and I wasn't in any place to be funny. I couldn't sit down and write even if I had wanted to.

Then things got better.

But, by then, the fan pack was so late that I felt it had to be better.

So, I rewrote it.

And hated it.

And I rewrote it.

Hated that one worse.

That's when things started to snowball. The more time I spent trying to make it funny, the less funny it really was.

Susan said I was trying too hard.

So, I put it off.

And off.

And off.

I'm pretty sure you see where this is going.

At this point, I've decided that I just have to do something. I have to get this thing finished before it drives me insane.

Also, before a small contingent of my loyal readers show up at my door and murder me.

Seriously, don't do that. I'm working, I'm working. You can take your coat off.

What I've figured out is that the problem is three-fold:

1) I am a perfectionist
2) I am an asshole
3) I am lazy

Thus, my only option is to give myself a finite, concrete deadline. I need to draw a line that I have to have this done by or it'll never get done.

To accomplish this, we're going to have another theme week. A straight week of posts as suggested by the person who donated most during this drought of fan pack goodness.

At the end of the week, I'll be sending out the fan pack.

Now, if you donated for the fanpack before Christmas or have donated since, YOU DO NOT HAVE TO DONATE AGAIN. You guys totally did your part, I just have to live up to my end.

If you want to donate, go right ahead. I'll add it to previous donations and the top donor will pick next month's theme week.

And if you've never donated before... Why the hell not? Do I come down to McDonald's and watch you make burgers, but never buy one? Huh, do I?

Some people, I tell you.

Of course, if it took two months to get a damned Big Mac, I doubt I'd pay them either.

Haha.

Ha.

Seriously, I'm good for it. One week.

Seriously.

HELP!

2010-02-20T13:15:00.000-08:00

Alternate Title: Or Kill Me... Whatever.

You have no doubt been wondering where I have been the last few days. Every time you hit refresh and see no new post has been put up, you die a little inside and wonder how your Dave could have forsaken you.

Oh, if only it was just me being an asshole. That would be MUCH better.

No, for you see, my dear reader, I have been spending the past five days straight playing nursemaid to my wife and single parent to our daughter.

It seems at some point in the recent past, my wife's wisdom teeth decided to start some shit. Apparently, there was some political upheaval in her mouth area and a small band of teeth made the decision to leave.

A few weeks and a bunch of money later, a dentist was removing said trouble-making teeth in a procedure I cannot help but picture as yanking with pliers while he steps on my wife's face.

That shouldn't make me laugh.

Shouldn't.

Sure, I suggest she get some work done (a nip here and a tuck there, maybe some giant, monster-size, almost comical breast implants) and I'm a jerk, but she can have elective surgery to remove teeth just to relieve agonizing pain.

Some people are so selfish.

The aftermath of this procedure is that she has been in bed for the better part of a week while I'm left running shit.

I'm not good at this.

This is not my forte.

See, I'm more of a handle errands and follow directions kind of guy. I'm not a caregiver, I'm a caretaker.

Or a "I don't give a sweet f&%@"er.

Being in charge of not one, but two lives is more than I can handle. I should not be left with this kind of responsibility.

Or any responsibility.

Ever.

I had a goldfish once.

It died.

Apparently, they do not enjoy going for walks as much as other pets.

Yeah.

The problem is that I am not built for this kind of work. I am a man and, as a man, I have developed the understanding that my role is just to keep myself alive.

Let me explain this in terms of FFXI.

I have asked someone to translate this into WoW terms for the FFXI-impaired.

When I first logged in, I decided to play as MAN. It seemed like a good class for my personality. Low maintenance with great meleeing ability.

(When I created my character, I decided to roll a ShaMAN. It seemed like a good class for my personality. Low maintenance with good all around healing or dps skills)

Once I'd leveled past 20, I decided to level a new job and use MAN as my sub. MAN seemed to be the preferred sub for BFD (Boyfriend), so I went with that. BFD/MAN. I learned to handle new job abilities, while maintaining the traits of MAN.

(Once I leveled past 20, I decided on the BOYFRIEND spec. BOYFRIEND seemed to be the preferred spec for ShaMANs, so I went with that. BOYFRIEND spec ShaMAN. I spent my talent points in the BOYFRIEND talent tree, learning new skills, while maintaining my role as ShaMAN)

Side note: I never realize what a strange word BOYFRIEND was until I actually wrote it out and looked at it. The word no longer makes sense to me.

(Wait... Am I supposed to translate the side note, too? You never explained that part when you sent me the e-mail. Could you clarify so I can fix it? I don't want to look like an idiot.)

After a while spent leveling as BFD/MAN, I did the quest to unlock the advanced job HUB (Husband). It wasn't a particularly hard quest. All you have to do is spend all your gil on a Rare ring and then trade it to another player.

(After a while spent leveling a BOYFRIEND spec ShaMAN, I did the class quest to unlock the HUSBAND ability. It wasn't a particular hard quest. All you have to do is spend all of your gold on a Bind on Equip ring and trade it to another player)

I should have really put more thought into this analogy before I started.

(Yeah, probably)

Eventually, I found this GREAT quest to unlock a new advanced job, DAD. I'll spare you the details, but it involves taking a special polearm to a cave. Yes, the quest is repeatable. The best part is that it's a pet job, so you get a new pet out of the deal.

(Eventually, I found this GREAT quest to unlock a new... Are you seriously comparing your daughter to a pet? We're doing this now? ... Okay, whatever. I spent some talent point to get the FATHER ability. The best part is that it came with a companion pet, so you get a new pet out of the deal)

Generally speaking, you usually wouldn't use an advanced job as a sub, but DAD/HUB is a much better and much more practical combo than DAD/MAN. Yeah, you can play DAD/MAN quite well, but DAD/HUB is generally more acceptable.

(This doesn't really translate well into WoW. Uh... Generally speaking, you wouldn't spend your talent points in a different skill tree... Yeah, I've got nothing)

I have never wanted to unlock the MOM job. Nothing about the job is appealing to me. Sure, some people find it to be an amazing, fulfilling job, but frankly, it looks like a lot of damned work. Constantly with the healing and refreshing all of your party members. Not my style.

(I have never wanted to spend any points in the MOTHER talent tree. None of the talents in that tree appeal to me. Sure, some people find it to be a great spec, but frankly, it looks like a lot of damned work. Constantly with the healing and buffing all of your party members. Not my style)

Unfortunately, due to recent events, I was forced to unlock the MOM job and sub it to my DAD. DAD/MOM is not a combo I really feel comfortable playing. The two abilities of both classes don't work well together. The MOM class's buffing and maintenance abilities don't really help out with my DAD role of lying around and playing video games.

(Unfortunately, due to recent events, I was forced to spend some talent points in the MOTHER talent tree. I don't really feel comfortable with these new abilities because they don't really work well with my spec. The MOTHER abilities for buffing and healing don't really help out with my ShaMAN DPS.)

So, I have spent the past week basically playing MOM, a job I never signed up for, while Susan sits in bed all day doing nothing.

(Are you really sure you want to say that? What if Susan reads it? She's going to kill you)

I suppose it could have been a worse week. At least I wasn't suck playing some stupid game where you get exp for just finding towers and shit out in the middle of nowhere. Wow, you found a big rock. Here's some exp for you. Boom, you're level 80.

(That's not funny)

I'm really hoping Susan feels better soon. VERY soon. I don't know how much more of this I can take.

In closing, WoW sucks.

(In closing, screw you, Dave)

Just A Thought

2010-02-14T17:23:00.000-08:00

My wife has caught full-on Olympic fever.

I'm serious about that. She has actually caught Olympic fever. Every freaking time I reach for the remote, she snarls at me like a zombie from Resident Evil.

I keep a shotgun nearby just in case.

Anyway, we were watching some of the events today when a thought struck me.

No, this is not about the luge. Even I'm not that bad.

We were watching the biathlon (which does not involve the sexually confused young women I had expected) in which competitors have to cross country ski and then shoot at targets. They get ten bullets and have to hit ten targets.

How in the hell could you lose this event?

Let's imagine that you're in second place. You're getting close to the finish line and it looks like you don't have time to catch up. All is lost, right?

Oh, wait... You've got a gun.

I'd just shoot the guy ahead of me. Pop, pop, and I'm the winner.

Now, I'm not suggesting I'd kill the guy. That's just plain crazy.

But hit him in the back of the knee or spine or whatever and that gold medal is all yours.

Unless the guy behind you has a bullet left.

Let's Get This Straight

2010-02-11T20:38:00.000-08:00

He's not a pirate.

Seriously. He's not.

Not at all.

See, just before Christmas, a little game was released called New Super Mario Bros Wii. This was, without a doubt, the biggest Nintendo game of the year.

Second place went to Not Zelda and third was given to whatever the hell those crap games are in the bargain bin at Walmart.

Anyway, Australia is all like WTF, mate? Why don't we get games early like all of those other countries that aren't former prison settlements?

Nintendo in their ever wise thinking decided to release the game there early.

And then, to turn the entire thing into one big moot point, the game broke street date and was out even sooner. People could go out weeks before the game was to be released and just pick one up off the shelf.

Now, a pirate (either software pirate or actual pirate) would be smart enough that, if a copy should come into their possession, they wouldn't spread that shit around. Keep that shit on the down low at least until it's officially released.

They CERTAINLY would not make this knowledge publicly known.

That's what this one guy did.

See, he ran home, his new Mario game clutched in his sweaty little hands, and immediately went on the internet to brag about having a copy.

To his "friends".

Here's where we start seeing differences between this person and an actual pirate. An actual pirate would have taken his treasure and kept it a secret, devising complicated and convoluted systems to keep anyone from find it.

They did not post its location on the internet.

They certainly did not take pictures of the treasure along with a receipt showing exactly where the treasure came from.

They absolutely wouldn't take a picture of themselves holding the treasure.

Even if they did, THEY WOULDN'T PUT THEM ON THE INTERNET.

Okay... Things are still okay, though. I mean he hadn't done anything stupid up to this point.

Up to this point.

All he had to do was wait for the initial excitement die down and no one would have given him a second thought.

Instead, they goaded him into uploading a copy of the game to the internet.

Again, not how a pirate would handle the situation. A pirate would find the person trying to goad them and then stab them in the stomach. They would not make copies of the treasure available on a large global network.

Nintendo's crack team of investigators (read: one guy who googled "New Super Mario Bros Wii iso") managed to track down the master criminal and sued him to the tune of $1.5 million dollars.

Remember when Nintendo was the cute little company that made game consoles? Now, those guys will F&%@ you up.

My problem is with the terminology. Everyone is saying he's paying $1.5 million for his piracy.

No, no.

As I've established, he's not a pirate. Not at all.

He does not sail the high seas with a group men severely lacking in hygiene and vitamin C.

He's not a pirate.

He's a moron.

If you think about it that way, he's being charged $1.5 million dollars for stupidity.

That's a system I can get behind.

/Em Is Sick

2010-02-07T20:26:00.000-08:00

Ugh.

That is exactly how I feel at this moment. My entire physical being can be measured and summed up by those three little letters.

Ugh.

There is nothing that I would want to do less when I'm sick than go into work. Just the thought of having to deal with a never ending flood of retarded people while my body falls apart makes me want to shoot myself.

Do you know how expensive bullets are?

Spoiler: Really expensive.

Even if I could afford bullets, I definitely couldn't afford a gun.

And I seriously doubt throwing the bullets at my temple would have the desired effect.

So, since I need to maintain my employment until such time as I can afford an actual firearm and the requisite ammunition, I am stuck working while I am sick.

Don't feel bad for me. I just called and told them I would be working from home for today.

They usually don't allow that, but my supervisor doesn't seem to mind when I do it.

I pretended not to hear the relief in his voice.

Since it was Susan's day off, she decided to try and make me feel better. She asked me if there was anything she could do to help. Did I need food or a beverage?

She didn't have a gun either.

Dammit.

Know what she did have?

Hands.

No, no. I don't mean it like that, you pervert.

Actually, she said no to that.

Dammit.

I then amended my idea to her using those hands to do my work for me. I could give her directions and she could do all the typing.

Yes, I am that pathetic when I'm sick.

My beautiful wife took my weak hand in hers, looked deep into my eyes, and told me to go F&%@ myself.

Thank you, Florence Nightengale.

It actually took about an hour of me hacking and coughing, sighing and looking pathetic for her to give in.

Sucker.

We spent the rest of the day with her at my keyboard and me laid back on the couch giving her directions on what to do. She'd tell me the problem and I'd give her the simple solution.

Gil farmer. Feed to Jormy.

Fish botter. Feed to Jormy.

Stuck behind a table. Feed to Jormy.

I know that last one didn't really deserve it, but we were kind of on a roll. Also, my Nyquil was running out and I was starting to get cranky.

Cranky [GM]Dave = Banned players.

All in all, I think it was a pretty productive day. We got through my entire shift without killing each other and I didn't die.

Win-win.

Yes, there were a few difficulties. Apparently, some of my "flare" is lost in translation.

Here is what I told my wife:

[GM]Dave>> Okay, that's good.
[GM]Dave>> Now, make a comment about his intelligence.
[GM]Dave>> Something brutal.

Here is what I later found in the log:

[GM]Dave>> You're so stupid, you thought a quarterback was a refund.
[GM]Dave>> BURN!

...

Yes.

Burn, indeed.

I need to get better quickly.

We Need To Shut Up Already

2010-02-03T19:52:00.000-08:00

I get that the entire point of the internet is to complain about mundane shit.

Well... That and hardcore pornography.

Seriously. I understand that. I've built myself a nice little hobby out of it.

The complaining... Not the porn.

But there's a line that our gaming community has been passing a little too easily lately: Complaining for no good freaking reason.

If you don't want to buy a game, don't buy it. It's that simple. You don't have to look for stupid shit to complain about.

It's even worse if the game has any sort of hype behind it. Then people are going to just make shit up as they go so they can sound cool enough to hate what everyone else loves.

Call of Duty? Too much shooting.

Seriously? Seriously?!

We as gamers should hold ourselves to higher standards. We're not Ma and Pa Gribble getting on this new fangled interweb thang and trying to post message on our Facewall.

We're refined.

We're sophisticated.

We're at least intelligent enough to not act like a bunch of whiny little bastards over every little thing.

Case in point: Mass Effect 2.

If you have not heard of this game, welcome to our planet. Mind the wildlife and enjoy your stay.

Mass Effect 2 is a big game. A game so large, in fact, that it requires multiple discs.

That's right. Multiple DVDs.

Big.

Now, back in my day, that was the sign of a good game. Back in my day, a good game had to have 2 or 3 or even 4 discs.

Lord help you if you got a PC game way back. You opened a box to find 29 floppies that had to be installed.

In order.

But that shit was a sign of quality. The game was just so damned good that it required extra discs to contain all the awesomeness.

Ask any Final Fantasy gamer their favorite part of the Playstation titles and they will not list a scene or a sequence. No, they'll say disc 3.

That's just how it was.

Mass Effect 2 comes out and suddenly, people don't understand that anymore. Reviewers are saying shit like "Don't get comfortable."

What the hell?!

Don't get comfortable? The game requires you to change a disc probably once every twenty hours.

What the F&%@ does it take for you to get comfortable?

Jesus. I've only been sat here for the better part of a day. Now, I've got to change a disc? F&%@ THAT!

And what's the big freaking deal anyway? Is your console in some other country, a land so distant that travel is arduous and consuming?

It's right there.

RIGHT THERE.

You can probably see it from where you're sitting.

Get the F&%@ over it.

Now, you might think I'm just bitching about stupid people.

I tend to do that.

This time, though... This time, I've got a point.

Remember a few years ago, when Devil May Cry came out? Remember the freaking clusterF&%@ circus about how long it took to install the game? People lost their freaking minds because they had to wait for the game to do a mandatory install.

People hated that.

So, what did the Mass Effect guys say?

Hey, let's put that shit on multiple discs so that they won't have to install the game.

Yay! Everyone's happy!

Oh, wait... No they're not. Now, they're complaining about having to switch discs.

Basically, we're looking at developers and telling them that we want extremely long games with amazing graphics and sound that require absolutely no install while somehow being contained on a single disc.

Yeah... It's no wonder they don't take us more seriously.

Hey, every copy should include a free unicorn. They can find them wherever in the hell we think they're going to get this magical super-disc technology.

I've figured out the perfect solution to everyone's problems: stop bitching.

See? The world is a better place already.

Welcome To The Team

2010-01-31T19:47:00.000-08:00

One type of player we seem to get a lot of is the former WoW player. Each and every day, we run across dozens of people who just jumped over.

I guess they decided to move up to a big boy game.

Now, I don't expect them to be experts when they start out. It is an entirely new game to them and, though it does share some similarities, the differences are enough to make give anyone a hard time.

I don't expect that much.

One of the things I DO expect, however, is a rough understanding of the game.

This isn't 1952. We've got this whole network of interconnected computers called "the internet". Anyone who wanted to can look up what a game is about.

Just freaking Google it.

Within five minutes, you should have a good general understanding of what FFXI is all about, what it includes, and basically how to play.

Five minutes.

Just five little minutes.

Is that too much to ask?

But no. Instead, we have morons making GM calls asking about how they get a flying mount or which way to Silvermoon City.

I swear someone asked me that.

Do you know where the flying mounts are? No where.

We ride our "mounts" on the ground like freaking normal people. We ride around and have to follow paths and not go over mountains and shit.

Because we're not F&%@IN' lazy, that's why.

If you're moving over to FFXI from WoW, you're goning to have to get used to a lot of new shit really, REALLY fast.

Have you ever gone into Burger King...

Okay, I know you haven't, but let's pretend for the sake of argument.

You're in Burger King. Your turn comes and you step up to the counter and loudly announce that you would like a Big Mac.

Uh oh.

You'll be lucky if you get your ass out of the place before some greasy teenager with a hairnet starts throwing old apple pies at you.

And you'd deserve it.

You don't just log into a new game and act like it's the old one. That shit is just offensive. The difference between these kinds of games is all that makes them unique. You start eating away at it with your stupid "Oh, where do you get a flying mount?" garbage and you're going to hurt someone's feelings.

Actually, I'll end up hurting your feelings. I'll refer to you by the wrong name and then feed you to a dragon.

How do you like it?

Yeah. I thought so.

Seriously?

2010-01-28T21:10:00.000-08:00

I get that we're a gaming community. I understand that.

I also understand that, as a community, we feel the need to come to the aid of any gamer who might be treated unfairly.

That's only right.

Thus, it was with great vigor that our many peoples came to the defense of a poor man deprived of his one love: Dungeons and Dragons.

Short version: Guy is in prison. Prison bans D&D. Internet esplodes.

Are we all up to speed?

Good.

Several video game news sites picked up on this story and ran with it. Oh, this poor, mistreated man having his beloved game taken away from him.

It was enough to spark an outrage.

Or, at least, several angry comments.

All caps, too. They mean business.

And, honestly, if you read some of the news stories, you start to feel bad for the guy. He's stuck in prison with nothing else to do and he wants to play a table top dice game. Sad, right?

Very sad.

Until you remember one funny point:

HE'S IN PRISON.

Jesus, people. What the hell is the matter with some of you? We're supposed to feel bad for this guy because they won't let him play D&D?

He killed people.

With a sledgehammer.

Sledgehammer.

Suddenly, I don't really give a shit if he's allowed to play games or not. You pretty much give that up the day you decide to remodel someone's face with a sledgehammer.

We don't let the guy run around outside the building.

We don't let the guy order in pizza or hookers or anything.

Why the hell would we let him play D & MotherF&%@in' D?

Yeah, sure. He's a person and all that. He has basic human rights that are afforded to everyone no matter what they've done.

Things like air.

And food.

Maybe water.

Among those rights, I don't see the words "Oh, and make sure he can play D&D anytime he wants."

We're under no obligation, legal or moral, to let this guy play games at his leisure.

This ain't Andy Freakin' Dufresne fighting against the corruption in Shawshank. He murdered someone in the face with a sledgehammer.

Guilty.

No games.

See, we afford those privileges to people who DON'T kill other people with sledgehammers.

Do you see the distinction? I know it's subtle, but it's an important one.

Wait... Can you even use two-handed hammers in D&D?

... I'm probably going to hell for that one.

Updates

2010-01-25T21:02:00.000-08:00

Yeah, yeah. Where the hell have I been?

I know.

I've been working on something that I kind of wanted to keep under wraps, but I think you guys at least deserve an explanation as to why my update schedule has been absolutely retarded lately.

*ahem*

I'm writing a book.

Okay... I'm trying to write a book.

I'm probably going to get sick of it and throw it in a drawer somewhere the first time I see something shiny, but I'm still in that "everything seems so freaking brilliant" phase, so I want to get as much done as I can before that happens.

This is what happens when I get retarded about something.

Things will get back to normal soon. I swear.

Or I'll start taking Ritalin.

Whatever.

I'm Writing A Movie Script

2010-01-20T20:56:00.000-08:00

This may or may not be safe for work, so be advised before clicking on the link. It's all very tame stuff, but it does involve some "adult film actresses" so you may want to wait until you get home.

Don't say I didn't warn you.

Apparently, Game Daily somehow got themselves on the red carpet for the AVN awards. This is the awards show for the "adult film" industry.

I assume the awards themselves to be quite awkward to hold.

Anyway, the Game Daily reporters are asking these young ladies (and some guys probably) what their gaming habits are.

Watch the first video.

Seriously. Go watch it.

It features a young woman by the name of Jenna Haze who I am completely and utterly unfamiliar with. I have no knowledge whatsoever of her body of work or any videos she may have stared in.

That's my story and I'm sticking to it.

This girl is a serious gamer. She throws down with her gaming cred and then...

Oh my.

The reporter asks what video game character she would most like to make a "movie" about.

Can you guess what she says?

I'll five you a hint: It starts with F and rhymes with Final Fantasy.

Oh hell yeah.

Honestly, and I'm not joking around here at all, I will murder the person at SE corporate that send the cease and desist letter on this idea. I mean go ahead and send out C&D letter to homebrew developers, but this... This is art.

Shut up. It is.

Hot, sweaty art.

Anyone at all involved with the industry should get started on this today.

To.

Day.

You need a handicam, a variety of costumes that are all readily available online, and security to hold back a tide of FF fanboys.

By that, I mean me.

That's really the one thing the FF series has been missing all of these years: porn. We've done the classic RPG, the strategy RPG, the spin-off, the MMORPG. We've done everything.

Except porn.

Seriously. How the hell could we leave that out?

The porn RPG.

No, I don't want to think about what is involved in leveling up.

And everyone should sub WHM for Viruna.

Am I the only one who thinks this is a freaking awesome idea?

From the look Susan is giving me right now, I assume yes.

I really need to tell her to stop reading these things.

Never Enough... Continued

2010-01-17T19:59:00.001-08:00

Ironically, this is a continuation of my last post.

See what I did there? My last post was about how there's really no end to...

My genius is lost on you people.

My last post, you see, was an experiment. I wanted to leave the ending vague enough for people to wonder if the lack of a true ending was a good thing or a bad thing.

A few people actually e-mailed me to ask if I hated that about FFXI and MMORPGs in general. They suggested I was trying to bring attention to one of the worst parts of the MMO.

Not so much.

While some people can get a little... annoyed by the freedom and longevity offered by this kind of game, I revel in it.

I love FFXI. And I'm not just saying that like you would to some girl just to get into her pants.

In case wife is reading: Not that I've ever done that.

This is perhaps the single greatest game that I have ever played. Given the sheer volume of games I have played in my many years, that is truly saying something.

Why would I want that to end?

There's something else I love as well: eating. I love going to a nice restaurant and sitting down with an amazing meal, savoring every bite.

Now, some people eat a small portion and be done with it. Enough to meet basic nutritional requirment and then go on with the rest of their day.

I'd never stop.

The whole point is the enjoyment. If I'm honestly enjoying every minute of something, why would I ever wish for it to have an end?

When I read a good book (yes, I do read), I don't wish for it to be over so that I can read something else. Hell, when I notice the back cover getting ever closer, I start to get disappointed. I hate knowing that my enjoyment is soon coming to an end.

FFXI doesn't have to end. You push and grind and claw your way to the top of the mountain, turn and stare at the majesty of the world around you and at the slope you have just conquered.

And there's a new mountain right next door.

And another one right after that.

All the mountains a man could ever want to climb.

That might not sound like fun, but if you enjoy mountain climbing, then you're in heaven.

I love FFXI. I will play it to every end they can provide and then, when I somehow run out, I'll sit back and ask myself that universal question:

"What would that have been like as a Mithra?"

And I'll start all over again.

And I'll love every minute.

Suppose someone believed in reincarnation. Suppose they honestly believed that as soon as they died that they'd move on to a brand new life.

Does that mean they should pray for their current life to end all the sooner?

That doesn't make much sense, now does it?

I'm sure I could go get another game. I could run down to Gamestop and throw sixty dollars on the counter to take home Shiny New Game: Old Game 2.

I'd pick up a sword or a gun or whatever, spend 3 hours fighting monsters and find out that I saved the world again.

Yay... I guess.

Frankly, I like a little bit more substance. I want to look at my play time numbers and know that I lived a life in this world and that I enjoyed living it.

I don't play to be done.

I play to play.

How could that possibly be a bad thing?

Never Enough...

2010-01-15T16:39:00.000-08:00

I realized something interesting today.

It's never going to be enough.

Every minute that you're playing FFXI, there's always something you're striving for. You're always trying to get a better polearm or a better pair of shoes, a better spell or a better level. There's always something to work toward.

Even when you hit level 75, you have a ton of shit left to do. Hell, you have to level half a dozen subs to 37 just to keep from being gimped.

That's just to be normal.

If you want to be better, you have 19 other jobs to level to 75.

And then you have to get merits for all of them.

Lots of merits.

Merits for new abilities, new spells, new episodes of House, whatever.

But then you're done.

Oh, wait. You don't have all of your gear yet.

Every single one of your 20 jobs has situational gear, gear that you need for every possible event. I mean, Dragoons do two things:

1) hit things

2) hit things again

That's it.

And yet, any Dragoon worth his salt has 4 or 5 sets of gear ready to go at any moment. You need soloing gear, weaponskill gear, regular tping gear, evening wear, and who knows what the hell else.

So, you've got hours upon hours upon hours of questing or farming or running events just to get awesome gear.

And every job has awesome gear.

Lots of it.

But that's it. Once you've got the jobs to 75, all 20 of them, and you have lots of awesome gear for your jobs, all 20 of them, then... Then you're done.

Wait... You did your crafting, right? You got your crafting to 100, right?

And leveled all of your sub crafts.

And your fishing.

You get a special fishing rod if you catch eleventy bajillion fish and bring them to this guy who has some weird fish-related emergency.

Then you get to go fish with your new fishing rod.

So, now, you're spending hours and hours farming for money and materials to craft AND spending hours and hours crafting and trying to resell the items you made.

Then, you're done.

Just as soon as you get your Relic weapons.

That take years to complete.

And every job has a relic.

All 20 of them.

Yeah.

Then... Then you're done.

Completely done.

... Until the next update.

I Am A F&%@ING Genius

2010-01-12T19:05:00.000-08:00

I have officially, OFFICIALLY, come up with the greatest idea in the history of the freaking world.

Seriously. There are people coming by later with a certificate and everything. It's this really nice white color. That's bone. And the lettering is something called Sicilian Rail.

Now, you're probably asking yourself what this amazing, spectacular, incredible idea is.

I don't care if you used that many adjectives. I like adjectives and I will use them as I please.

Are you ready for this?

I don't think you're ready for this.

I give you...

The [GM]Dave Center for MMORPG Addiction.

Huh? Huh? Isn't that the greatest f&%@ing idea you've ever heard?

Our center will be dedicated to helping people overcome MMORPG addiction and learning to game moderately and responsibly. People who are addicted to playing MMOs can commit themselves to a four week stay in which they will undergo intense treatment and testing to ensure they game in healthy ways.

Doesn't that sound awesome?

What do you mean "no"?

I'm going to assume you said "no" for theatrical purposes. If you did not say "no", please say it now so that we can continue.

...

We good?

Alright.

What do you mean "no"? This is the greatest idea EVER.

EVER.

See, the description I just gave is what you tell your spouse/parents/family/friends/dog/whatever.

In reality, you will spend four solid weeks playing the MMORPG of your choice with absolutely no distractions.

No kids.

No wife/husband.

No work.

Just you and four straight weeks of as much gaming as you can stand without your eyes bleeding.

Or let them bleed.

Whatever. We'll pick up some Visine or something.

Your family/friends think you're off getting treatment for your "abnormal behavior", while you're actually playing your freaking ass off in a resort.

I mean center.

Hell, the other people at the center can help you play. Boom! Instant linkshell.

Four beautiful weeks of playing the game you love.

And then, and this is the best part, when your four weeks are over, we send you back with a very official looking report stating that you do not meet the clinical definition of addiction and that it is simply a controlled obsession.

Then, if they start up with that addiction shit again, you call the center and sign up for additional treatment.

It's beautiful.

So, to summarize:

-a full month of uninterrupted gaming
-getting to hang out and play with other serious gamers
-"official" proof that you aren't actually addicted and that everyone who said that is a moron

The only way I could make this idea any better is if we built the center next to a Cheerleader Nymphomania treatment facility.

...

I need to make some calls.

Is This Just Me?

2010-01-10T19:34:00.000-08:00

Something funny happened today.

I was coming down from a mad gaming marathon. Honestly, I'm pretty sure I hadn't blinked in about four hours.

Things were pretty normal. I was just finishing up feeding some moron to Jormy for a very good reason (that'll teach him to misuse the word "whom"), when I decided to stretch.

That's when it hit me.

No, not an idea.

A smell.

More correctly, my smell.

A wave of sweat slapped me in the face like I just asked a feminist to go make me a sandwich.

Now, this isn't a normal thing for me. I am quite carefully about properly maintaining my body and the hygiene thereof.

I have approximately 87 sets of gear for any one job along with several macro set ups for any specific event. I know how to keep shit running.

Still, as any gamer will attest, sometimes you just get caught up in an intense gaming run and you kind of lose track of things. You forget to eat, to work, to study. You even forget important errands.

It's no big deal. So Susan had to wait at the airport for four extra hours. She got home.

Unfortunately in the midst of your gaming revelry, it's really easy to meander away from your shower schedule. It just kind of gets away from you.

Usually, my wife is kind enough to point out these oversights. Usually, she's very clear on her feelings about that sort of thing.

Our couch is actually quite comfortable.

When it happened, I just chalked it up to one of those wacky consequences of being a gamer. I just automatically assumed that this happened to all of us.

I mean, I can't be the only one, right?

Right?

...

I'm going to go take another shower.

Secret F&%@ING Santa

2010-01-06T19:40:00.000-08:00

Okay, this happened over the [GM]Dave Blackout of 2009, but I thought it was worth sharing.

Some of the guys at work decided to organize a secret Santa thing. You know, everyone draws a name and gets that person a relatively inexpensive gift so we all feel like friends and not just the random people I happen to sit next to for 8 hours a day.

Merry Christmas, random meat bag.

Still, it was a simple way for me to justify receiving an extra present, so what the hell, right?

I mean, we all kind of know how the freaking secret Santa system works. You spend 15 or 20 dollars on something they want and you get something you want in return. None of this retarded clothes or socks or underwear bullshit that various relatives try and pull.

Plus, we all work for a video game company. How hard is it to figure this shit out? You go to Gamestop and buy something between 15 and 20 dollars.

Or a gift card. Just buy a gift card.

It's not impersonal. It's efficient.

So, we're opening our little secret Santa gifts. Were kind of going around in a random order, but the general trend seems to be holding true. Pretty much everything is video game related and everyone is quite pleased.

See? Easy.

Then I get to my gift.

Someone hands me a cylindrical gift. I immediately assume that some mistake has occurred until someone points out that my name is on it.

Oh, joy. My secret Santa has gone off script.

I open it and inside is a mug.

A mug.

Like a coffee mug.

A coffee mug that says "You don't have to be crazy to work here... But it helps."

Hi-freaking-larious.

No, no. There had to be something else around here for me. I look inside the mug. I look in the wrapping paper. I look around the room.

Nope... This is it.

A... Mug.

You know, they say it's the thought that counts.

Apparently, my secret Santa thought "Gee, how can I be the biggest prick in the history of the world? Hmmm...Oh, I know. Mug."

Who the F&%@ gives someone a mug for Christmas? Do I look like an 80 year old woman?

Spoiler: No.

A mug is never, ever, ever considered an acceptable Christmas present.

Ever.

See, there are two types of people: people who drink coffee and people who don't. People who drink coffee already have mugs and people who don't drink coffee don't need mugs.

It is an entirely useless gift. You might as well buy them a card that says "I don't know anything about you. F&%@ you."

I was searching for the words to express my feelings when I heard someone say "You're welcome."

...

No, it was not meant ironically.

I tried to look happy. I really, really did. I smiled and everything.

I don't know how the mug slipped out of my hand.

I really don't know how it hit him in the side of the head.

One of those freak things, I guess.

You know what wouldn't have hurt hitting him in the side of the head? A FREAKING GIFT CARD!

Honestly, who gives someone a mug?

Thius is why I hate people.

Okay... We're Good

2010-01-05T19:37:00.000-08:00

Woot woot! Looks like everything is going to be okay!

The doctors came back and said they've cleared up the infection and he's doing MUCH better. They've gotten everything under control and he's expected to make a full recovery.

Hell yeah.

Give me about 24 hours to get back in gear and I'll start writing again. My wife was kind enough to point out that I, and I quote:

"... Are acting like a giant vagina. Man up and blog."

Yes, my wife called me a giant vagina.

Do you know how hard it is to find a great wife like that?

Not hard. I'll have an ad up on Craigslist later.

You can have her.

Answers

2010-01-02T12:19:00.000-08:00

Thanks everyone who sent me messages seeing how everything was going. This has been a REALLY crappy way to finish off the holidays, but at least I know you guys actually give a damn.

To answer some of your questions:

Yes, it is H1N1. They did all of the tests and they came back positive. I have no idea what those tests involve, but the doctors are quite sure.

Yes, he also has H1N1-related pneumonia. That explains the breathing difficulties. The doctor called it "double pneumonia" which means that he has it in both lungs, but sounds like something a four year old would say.

No, we haven't actually gotten in to see him. He's in some sort of Umbrella Corporation locked down isolation ward. I collected several gems and keycards, but no access yet. We're basically just hanging around the hospital trying to keep his wife and ourselves from going crazy.

Yes, I did a LOT of drinking on New Year's Eve. This has been a very bad few days and has brought up thoughts of my own mortality. I dealt with this like any real man would, by pouring alcohol on the problems until they go away or are bottled up or whatever.

Anyway, just wanted to keep you guys updated and I figured this would be easier than answering each e-mail individually.

Also, I am lazy.

And tired.

And a little hungry.

Mostly tired.

Oy

2009-12-30T06:41:00.000-08:00

Sorry for the lack of updates, people, but things have been crazy hectic around here.

A good friend of ours came down with H1N1 and had to be rushed to hospital. He's been complaining of a cough and fever for a while, but never really did anything about it.

By the time he actually went to see a doctor, he was having trouble breathing and the doctors think it could be really serious. REALLY serious.

Between work, spending time with family, spending time at the hospital and comforting his wife, I haven't had a minute to think for the past several days.

Hell, I haven't even opened the games I got for Christmas.

I actually missed Dynamis.

Yeah. THAT serious.

Updates may be sporadic for the next few days, but I'm hoping things will get better fast.

This also, unfortunately, means the fan pack will be delayed for a few days. I'm writing when I get a chance here and there, but not enough to actually send you guys and pretend it doesn't suck.

Bear with me, people. It's a bad time.

How Not To Be Retarded - Vol. 7

2009-12-26T20:05:00.000-08:00

Here's the Golden F&%@ing Rule to not being a total retard.

Are you paying attention?

I'm serious here. You better be memorizing this shit like there was going to be a test later.

Yes, there will be a test later.

No, I don't have any idea how exactly I would make you all take a test, but I'm sure I can figure something out.

Anyway...

The one, simple, easy, perfect rule of not being retarded is paying attention.

I know. It really doesn't look that impressive at first.

At first.

But, if you take some time to consider it, the real depth of this rule starts to hit you.

See, the best thing you can do to ensure you not being retarded is to pay attention every time, every single time, someone else does something retarded.

And then not doing that.

This is kind of like on the job training, but instead of learning a new skill, you're learning how not to be a f&%@ing retard.

Oh, someone just did something retarded, so goddamned retarded that you threw up in your mouth a little.

Yeah, you better write that shit down. That way, in the future when you have the choice of doing the same thing, your brain can say "Wait... Why does this seem familiar?"

Through your own horrible experiences, you can actually develop your very own encyclopedia retardica that you can then reference to keep yourself from becoming one of the drooling morons that make all of our lives a living hell.

Just pay attention.

Plus, it will be great evidence should you not follow your own rules and I am then forced to come to your house and murder you.

It probably won't come to that. I'm trying to cut down on the murdering.

Self-improvement and all that.

[GM]Dave's Self-Improvement List

1) get in better shape
2) learn Japanese
3) kill fewer people

But at least if I have to, I'll have some hard evidence to show the jury about why I had to kill yet again.

[GM]Dave>> He wrote it right there.
[GM]Dave>> "I hate undercutters."
[GM]Dave>> Then he undercut the AH by 20%.
[GM]Dave>> Everything after that was justified.
Judge>> Hell yeah.
Judge>> You're free to go.
[GM]Dave>> Can I get my hammer back?

I'm not asking you to do an anthropology project about retarded people. I'm not asking you to do doctorate thesis research about it.

Just pay attention to everything you hate.

Then remember it.

This is not rocket surgery.

Learn what retards do and then don't do that.

Pay attention.

Duh.

How Not To Be Retarded - Vol. 6

2009-12-24T12:07:00.000-08:00

DON'T F&%@ING UNDERCUT AT THE AUCTION HOUSE!!!

That's it. That's the whole post.

'Night, everybody.

...

What? It's Christmas Eve. What do you want from me? I have a thinly veiled marketing campaign to pass off to my daughter as a major religious event.

Happy Holidays no matter what ones they are!

How Not To Be Retarded - Vol. 5

2009-12-23T19:59:00.000-08:00

Make Time, Take Time

We are all very well aware that real life is more important than playing FFXI.

Probably.

I'm not going to say that's actually true, but people keep saying it, so we'll pretend. Basically, this is what everyone says right after they screw you over completely.

Hey, you've just spent three hours trying to get this group organized and out to the mission location. You're about to start when someone has to go.

Real life > FFXI.

The kids are sick or the wife is dead. The dog ran away or got ran over or something. The house is on fire.

Excuses, excuses.

The thing is emergencies don't actually occur that often. If you played FFXI for any length of time, you'd think the world was coming to an end with the number of people struck down with maladies and crises.

What actually happens is that someone joins a group knowing full well that they have very limited time. They assume that the entire thing will run smoothly and they will have time to get it done.

Then, when the inevitable delays involved with organizing any group of two or more people come about, they don't say anything. Maybe everything will work out and they'll have just enough time.

And they wait.

And wait.

And wait.

Then, when the whole group is finally ready to get to work, THAT's when they bother to tell everyone about the thing that just "came up".

Now, you've screwed over an entire group of people because you couldn't just man up and let them know ahead of time.

You never know, right? Maybe this incredibly hard mission will take less than the ten minutes you have left before you have to go.

Maybe the boss will give you candy when you're done.

Thins in this game take time. It's unavoidable.

Yes, it sucks. It sucks a lot. But that doesn't change the fact that it's true. You can't just ignore it and hope you can get everything done.

You are quite literally putting yourself above the rest of your group. That's not a good thing.

That's being retarded.

I know, I know. [GM]Dave is the most self-centered man on the face of the planet. Surely he is not putting the happiness of others above himself.

I can answer that with two valid points:

a) I only put myself above others because the suffering of others amuses me

b) you're not [GM]Dave

You are a regular person.

Or you should be.

You shouldn't ruin the day of 17 other people just because you wanted to get a mission done before you had to go to work.

That's not cool.

Sure, Real Life > FFXI.

But Not being retarded >>>>>> Real Life.

Suck on that math, bitches.

A Brief Christmas Interlude

2009-12-22T20:10:00.000-08:00

I've noticed some people have commented on a definitive lack of Jormy, retards, and the Jormying of the aforementioned retards.

Yes, I just made Jormy a verb.

I'll give you a minute to add that to your personal lexicon.

Might I suggest such fun sentences as "Man, I'm going to Jormy that motherf&%@er" and "Holy shit, that guy just got Jormyed"?

Anyway, since we are so close to [insert religious or secular holiday], I thought I should take the time to correct this oversight. I decided the best way to fix this problem would be to set a trap.

A retard trap.

I know. Setting a trap to find a retard online is like setting a trap for a pedophile online. It's just too easy.

Could you take a seat over there?
*coughpervertcough*

Basically, my plan was to offer random players free items and simply wait for one of them to turn out to be retarded.

Not one of my more nefarious plans, but I was tired and hungover. See, this happened to be one of those odd mornings when I was NOT drinking.

Yet.

Still, I felt the plan would serve my purposes as it met the two criteria of my mission:

1) retards

2) feeding retards to Jormy

Now, some of you might call this entrapment. You would only call it that because it is entrapment. Luckily, in the GM handbook, entrapment is defined as "too freaking bad, BANNED!"

It's a good handbook.

We are police officers in only the very loosest sense. While we are empowered to act as enforcers of our carefully laid out ruleset (along with our own completely arbitrary rules), we are not actually restrained by any sort of legal limitations.

Miranda? What the hell is Miranda?

So, I went tard fishing.

[GM]Dave>> Hail, Adventurer.
[GM]Dave>> I'd like to present you with a free item.
Player>> Really?
Player>> That would be great.

...

Shit.

Okay, okay. Shake that one off. You're bound to find some NON-retarded people.

Let's just move on.

[GM]Dave>> Hail, Adventurer.
[GM]Dave>> I have a gift for you.
Player>> Holy crap!
Player>> That is awesome.

Seriously? Two normal people in a row?

Fail, Internet. Fail.

Next...

[GM]Dave>> Hail, Adventurer.
[GM]Dave>> I'm here to present you with a free gift.
Player>> Really?
Player>> What is it?

Ah, there we are.

You might think this person doesn't sound retarded, but that is because you don't have my highly tuned retardation instincts. I can practically smell these people.

Yes, it is as disgusting as it sounds.

There's something about his sentence structure and grammar that sets off the old bells and whistles. Like a master profiler, I conclude that he must be retarded.

Also, he just questioned a free item.

If someone offers you something free, you don't ask them what it is. You say thank you and then ask for another one for your sister.

You probably don't have a sister. You only say that because it is free and free things are awesome.

The first two people were smart. Say thank you and take the item. It doesn't matter what the hell it is, you just take the item.

The third guy... He asked a question.

Retarded.

Still, he might come to his senses. He might still turn out half-sensible.

You're reading this, aren't you? How do you think it turned out?

[GM]Dave>> It's... It's a Scorpion Harness.
Player>> I'm actually a Black Mage.
Player>> Could I maybe trade it for something?

I'm not even kidding. He asked if he could trade it in for something else.

He asked if he could trade in a free item.

He could have just gone and sold the item. Throw it on the Auction House and wait twenty minutes. Bam! Money!

But no. This guy asks me for a favor while I'm doing him a favor.

This is why the english language is so frustrating. "Retarded" doesn't convey how stupid this really is.

I felt I was well within my rights.

[GM]Dave>> Well, I could see what other items I have.
Player>> Something that would be great for a Black Mage.
Player>> And a high quality if you can.

Not even joking. Asked for a HQ.

Wow.

[GM]Dave>> Well, I do have one...
[GM]Dave>> No, I couldn't give you that.
Player>> Wait... Give me what?
Player>> You can't give me what?
[GM]Dave>> It's a hard to get item.
[GM]Dave>> I can't just give it away.
Player>> But it's Christmas.
Player>> C'mon.

Yes, he intended to win the argument by saying "C'mon".

[GM]Dave>> Well...
[GM]Dave>> You have to promise not to tell anyone.
Player>> Of course.
Player>> I won't tell anyone.

Bullshit. The only reason we put in the chat system is so you can brag to random strangers.

[GM]Dave>> I can't. I really can't.
Player>> Yes, you can.
Player>> I don't even care what it is.

Yeah, now he doesn't care. I tell him it's hard to get and suddenly it's the thought that counts.

[GM]Dave>> Okay...
[GM]Dave>> But you can't tell anyone.
[GM]Dave>> ANYONE!
Player>> No problem.
Player>> Not anyone.

*warp*

Area: Mordion Gaol

Player>> What's going on?
Player>> Where am I?!
[GM]Dave>> I had to bring you here to get your new armor.
[GM]Dave>> Your new dragon armor.
Player>> Sounds awesome.
Player>> ... Where is it?
[GM]Dave>> It's right...

Jormungand hits Player for 13,908 points of damage.
Player was defeated by Jormungand.

[GM]Dave>> ... There.
[GM]Dave>> Actually... I think it might be a little big on you.

Yes, I know I banned someone this close to Christmas just to amuse you.

You're welcome.

How Not To Be Retarded - Vol. 4

2009-12-21T20:36:00.000-08:00

Listen To Other Players

I know. This advice is completely contradictory to yesterday's advice. Theoretically, if every just shut the f&%@ up, then you wouldn't have to listen to other people.

See, I'm allowed to contradict myself. I change my mind all the time and, even if I don't, many of my strongest opinions are entirely at odds with each other.

I truly believe that

1) people should shut the hell up

2) you should listen to others

Yeah. Try and figure that shit out.

Now, I'm not saying you should listen to anything that manages to escape from some moron's mouth. That would fall into a future theme week called "How To Be SuperMechaGundam Retarded."

Still, people can say a lot of smart shit when you're in a party.

They might play the job you're leveling. They might have more experience than you.

Hell, they might just be smarter than you.

Yes, that is a possibility.

Not smarter than me, of course, but that goes without saying.

Well, it could have gone without saying, but I do so enjoy pointing out how smart I am.

Your best bet is to listen to what other players say and then use your own experience to sift through it for anything useful. Sure, the majority of it is going to be remarkably idiotic bullshit, but every now and then you might stumble across something important.

Somewhere, buried beneath metric tons of retardation, you might just find something that could make you a better player.

Even a moron has to get lucky some time, right?

Give that monkey a keyboard and see what he can do. When he's not busy throwing his shit at you, he could be breaking off some serious knowledge.

I'm pretty sure that's how Brady Guides are written.

Minus the knowledge part.

Now, listening to others is not an easy skill to master. No, no. Every part of your brain will be straining to shut out the droning stupidity.

Should you, however, manage to survive the onslaught, you may be rewarded for your troubles.

Probably.

Maybe.

Then, by all of us listening to the good advice of others, we can all become better players.

And THEN, I can go back to ignoring all of your asses and trying to get me some exp.

How Not To Be Retarded - Vol. 3

2009-12-20T19:58:00.000-08:00

Shut The F&%@ Up

Let me sum up one of the most important rules in not being a retarded player.

*ahem*

Shut your goddamned mouth.

See? That wasn't so hard. All you have to do is not talk ever and you will succeed admirably in not being retarded.

What? You don't think this is good advice?

You think that MMORPGs are supposed to be social games and you're supposed to talk?

That's the dumbest thing I've ever heard.

Yeah, sure. They put the whole text chat thing in there. It was designed so that you could talk to other players.

Go ahead. Tell them what you had for lunch. Ask them if they saw that new movie. Whatever.

Just don't bitch.

Ever.

If you're in a group, then you chose to be in that group. If you're not happy, you then choose to leave the group.

That's it. You don't bitch and moan and complain. You don't tell people how to do their jobs or how much better your last party was and how you got fifty jillion exp an hour with other groups.

You're in a party. You're in an alliance. You're in a mission group.

That means shut the F&%@ up.

You're not offering anything to the group. No one is going to thank you for your keen insight and helpful criticism. All you're going to do is piss people off.

Great. Now, your bad group is a bad, AWKWARD group.

Always fun.

Good job. You're still not getting 26,000 exp an hour, but now everyone knows just how terrible they are.

That'll motivate them.

I'm not sure what happens to people's brains when they join a party or group. It's like they lose the ability to leave that group of their own accord.

No, instead you have to bitch about everything. Like you're going to fix it or something.

You wouldn't do this in real life. If you were at a party that totally sucked, you wouldn't go around the room and tell people off.

Okay, I would, but I'm not you.

You'd get up and leave, right? You'd go find a better party or just go home.

That is exactly what non-retarded people do when confronted with a bad group. You find a better group or you go do your own thing.

It's like sex. Telling someone how bad they're doing isn't going to help the situation. At all. You're better off finding a new partner or just doing it yourself.

Also, it's better with six people.

Seriously. Just save everyone the headache and disband. Things didn't work out, but maybe you can salvage your day and find another party.

Or not.

Whatever.

Just as long as you're not bitching.

How Not To Be Retarded - Vol. 2

2009-12-19T19:29:00.000-08:00

Know How To Play Your Job

There are a wide variety of jobs in FFXI. Hell, pretty much every MMORPG is full of job classes that offer any sort of experience you may desire.

You want to be an Elvaan Warrior? Cool.

You want to be a cat girl black mage? Sure.

You want to be a half-vampire, half-werewolf, half-duck wizard?

... I'm sure it's out there somewhere.

Probably.

Yes, that depresses me, too.

You are entirely free to choose any job, career, profession, and life that you want. You can carefully consider each class's strengths and roles and find the perfect job for you, one that matches your play style and personality.

Doesn't that sound nice?

That sounds nice.

And all we ask is that you figure out how to play that job.

It's not hard. A little bit of internet research, browse through a few forums, and boom! You're an expert.

Okay... Maybe not an expert. But you can probably not get your entire group horribly murdered by ugly monsters with pointy things.

Oh, the pointy things.

Just a little bit of work.

That's not so much to ask, is it?

And yet, it isn't the exception, but the norm that you run into people who are either:

a) too ignorant
b) too stupid
c) both a and b

pretty much every single time you join a group.

Yeah, sure. You had this group just the other day that ran beautifully. Everyone worked together and did their jobs. You made tons of exp and a fun time was had by all.

Huzzah.

That didn't actually happen. That was a dream you had after you cried yourself to sleep. In reality, your party took four hours to get started because one guy had no idea what kind of gear or items he needed and then disbanded ten minutes later after two consecutive party wipes because of that guy.

Seriously. That's what happened.

Or you were that guy.

In that case, good job, champ. You're a credit to whatever trailer park you call home.

It's really not that hard to learn how to play your job properly. I'm not suggesting you devote your entire life to studying the arts of the Bard, but at least get the freaking basics down.

You know, you COULD devote your entire life to it. That is an option.

That would totally work for me.

Then, I wouldn't have to spend the majority of parties wondering exactly what the barrel of a gun would taste like.

Sure, your life would fall apart, the tattered pieces of your humanity burning in the fires of your gaming obsession, your entire existence reduced to being a puppet for my game playing needs.

Take one for the team.

The team being me.

When you log in and choose that job, even if you're only trying it out for shits and giggles, you are agreeing to learn that shit. You are agreeing to work your ass off until you are an ass-kicking machine.

That's why it's called a job.

Yeah, yeah. You're only playing a game. You only want to have fun.

Bullshit. You want fun, go play outside or something.

Or in traffic.

Whatever.

I Am Bored, Thus...

2009-12-18T19:54:00.000-08:00

Screw it. We're doing a theme week.

There's no real reason behind it. I know I said some shit about figuring out a new schedule, but I just feel like doing a theme week.

So I am.

Last month's top donator has given me an interesting challenge. Instead of a week about how retarded people are, he wants me to explain how NOT to be retarded.

It's like a preemptive strike.

So, I will be spending the next seven days, tonight included, discussing everything that you should do so that you don't turn into a giant tool.

You may want to write this down.

Or just print it out.

Or... Well, you could just bookmark it.

You know what? I'm not your freaking secretary. Figure this shit out.

Anyway...

As usual, after a straight week of my insane bitching and ranting, I'll be sending out a fan pack. The way I figure it, I'll take the 25th off and send out the first pack on the 26th.

Or 27th.

Shhhh. You didn't see that part.

Everyone who was super cool and donated to the blog will get this wonderful fan pack. You will also know that I consider you super cool.

That's a gift in and of itself, isn't it?

I know. I spoil you.

Also as usual, whoever donates the most in the month gets to pick their very own theme week. Your kindness and generosity during the very financially draining holiday season is very much appreciated and I do this to show you how much it means to me.

Too subtle?

Eh, if I had any shame, I might feel bad.

Good thing.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

How Not To Be Retarded - Vol. 1

Come Prepared

Listen. Listen carefully.

We know shit is expensive.

Prism powders, silent oils, mp drinks, ninja tools, food, medicines, etc, etc, etc all cost money.

We are fully aware of that.

And yes, we know you don't like spending your money. It takes time to farm up and earn gil, so you really don't want to spend it if it's not entirely necessary. You don't want to buy things that you might end up not needing.

We totally get that.

If I looked WAAAAAAAAAY down in the deepest, darkest regions of my cold, black heart, I might even care.

It's not likely, but I might.

Suck it up, buttercup. You're going to have to spend money if you want to play this game. You can't expect other players to pull their weight and yours, just to save a few thousand gil.

You're a mage. Your sole purpose is to cast spells.

Oh... You're silenced.

And you don't have any echo drops...

That's... That's fan-freaking-tastic.

At that point, you're not even a player anymore. At that point, you have become entirely useless.

I'm not kidding. You are unable to cast spells which was your only use. You are literally and completely useless.

Do you have any idea how frustrating it is to be in a party or mission group and have some retarded bastard show up not prepared? Do you know how pissed off that makes other players?

Hint: very.

Additional hint: Die in a fire.

It's not like we're asking anything special of you. It's not like you're the only one who had to go out and buy items. Every other person in your group is going to buy the exact same shit as you.

As a matter of fact, many of them will plan ahead for dealing with complete morons and will bring extra items you may need.

That's some real freaking dedication there.

You? You can't spend a lousy ten grand on food.

I throw more than that away trying to get whatever random hat they're giving away at the latest holiday event.

Your only freaking responsibility is to show up prepared. That's it. Being able to actually play your job (we'll talk about that later) is actually playing the game. Your only job before joining any group is to make sure you have everything you're going to need to help your group.

It's pretty freaking simple.

Still, you'd be surprised how many people don't bring items.

Actually, all the Red Mages and White Mages wouldn't be surprised at all.

Player>> Sneak and Invis please.
Player>> Hello? Sneak and invis?
Player>> Can I get a sneak and invis over here?
Player>> Crap. It wore off.
Player>> Sneak and invis?

Every career White and Red mage reading this just started weeping to themselves. This is what they have to deal with in practically every party because you're too freaking good to buy yourself a few items.

Personally, I think these mages should be given a special spell that instantly annihilates anyone who asks for sneak or invis.

We could call it Barstupid.

If you want to be a good player, you're going to have to put your money where your mouth is. You need to know exactly what items will be required at any given time and you will be expected to have those items with you.

Not in your moghouse.

Not in your storage locker.

Certainly not waiting at the auction house.

Know what you need. Get what you need. Bring what you need.

Congratulations. We've just taken the first step on the road to not being retarded.

Watch your step.

Agony

2009-12-15T20:56:00.000-08:00

Ow.

Motherf&%@ing ow.

I'm in a lot of pain, so today's post will be done in point form.

-took daughter skating

-skated daughter around ice very fast

-wife skated directly in front of us

-I zigged

-wife zigged

-made mental note to explain the whole zig ZAG system at my earliest convenience

-managed to save both girls from serious injury by inflicting VERY serious injury on self

-motherf&%@ing ow

This post has been brought to you by What The Hell Is Wrong With You?! Get The F&%@ Out Of The Way!

Ow.

Javelin Gakure

2009-12-13T18:53:00.000-08:00

I was thinking about the whole Modern Warfare 2 Javelin exploit thing and something occurred to me.

Yes, I was sitting at work playing video games while thinking about video games so I could write something in my blog about video games.

I have a very difficult life.

Please do not feel bad that, in comparison, your job seems like cruel and inhuman punishment.

My job isn't that great. Some days, they serve the champagne just below room temperature instead of properly chilled.

See? Our jobs are the same.

Anyway, I was reading through a few threads about the whole javelin exploit deal when it hit me.

They stole that shit from us.

I'm not kidding around. Those sons of bitches stole our freaking idea. FFXI has had the javelin exploit for freaking ever.

We just call them Ninjas.

See, in case you don't play FFXI (for some stupid damned reason), Ninjas are masters of stealth and magic that are capable of bringing high amounts of damage while avoiding any injury. Truly, they are masters of the fighting arts and the subtle secrets of combat.

Also, they esplode.

No, I did not type that wrong.

They.

Es.

Plode.

I'm not sure how the development process went on that one. Apparently, they were sitting around and somehow went from "masters of evasion and invisibility" to "spontaneously explode".

Dev1>> I think their two hour ability should be cool.
Dev1>> Maybe they could slip into the shadows or something.
Dev1>> Thousands of strikes from nowhere type shit.
Dev2>> I think they should explode.
Dev2>> Like kaboom.
Dev1>> That's the dumbest thing I've ever heard.
Dev1>> What's your last name?
Dev2>> Wada.
Dev1>> ...
Dev1>> So, explode it is then.

Still, no matter how they came up with the idea, at least we came up with it first.

What I think happened is that one of the Modern Warfare 2 devs was getting his ass kicked in the game. The other devs were just plain destroying him.

Then, he decided to take a break and play some FFXI.

Next thing you know, he's coding Mijin Gakure in to piss the other guys off.

If you think about it that way, the exploit is just plain awesome.

Yeah, cheating sucks and people who do it should get stabbed in the neck with a number 2 pencil, but coding in an exploit just to piss off the guys you work with?

Awesome.

They could have avoided this whole mess if they'd either:

a) removed that code before release

or

b) give the exploit a 2 hour timer

That's what we did.

Amateurs.

My First

2009-12-10T18:22:00.000-08:00

This post is going to be a slightly weird one. Given some of the things I write about, that's saying something.

Most of the guys are going to get this.

Any women reading it probably aren't.

No offense intended, but we are a vastly different people and the general course of our childhood years are completely different.

Though, if a woman were to read it carefully enough, she might better understand men.

And how freaking messed up we really are.

Seriously.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

This morning, I was surfing through my daily sites, doing a sort of stream of consciousness thing letting one site link me to another and then another and so on.

Warning: This is not for the faint of heart. There is some SCARY shit out there in the interwebs.

Trust me.

Anyway, I was roaming through links and posts when I saw something that looked mildly interesting. It was a retrospective piece on the changing face of print media through the decades with a particular focus on the evolution of cover layout.

At least, that's the story I prepared for Susan. It was actually pictures of every cover of the Playboy Christmas issue ever.

Then, as I scrolled through them (purely for research purposes, of course), something incredible happened.

It was sixth grade. A group of my friends were crowded into a makeshift hideout we had constructed. Mostly, we just hung out and talked video games and theorized exactly what parts girls had and what we were supposed to do with or to them.

... It's a guy thing.

That's when one of my friends ran in.

To say he looked excited would be an utter insult to the meaning of the word. He was practically flying.

We instantly knew something big was happening. Maybe it was that look in his eye or the the way he ran in almost breathless.

Maybe it was the way he was clutching his backpack like he'd just robbed a bank.

I was reasonably sure he hadn't just robbed a bank. While he was a nice guy, he wasn't exactly the sharpest spoon in the drawer. His IQ rivaled that of a grilled cheese sandwich.

Still, there was something going on.

Something big.

He carefully unzipped his pack and reached inside like a doctor doing a Caesarean. The care he took doing this made us all hold our breath.

He slowly pulled his hands out and, clutched in his sweaty little fingers, were pages torn from his father's Playboys.

Jackpot.

Before any of the females reading this get confused, let me explain. To a boy at age 11, pages from a Playboy are practically religious, something to be studied and obsessed over.

No, obsessed is not in quotation marks.

Any man that tells you he never looked at a Playboy at that age is either:

a) a liar

b) a damned liar

c) please refer to a and b

You have to remember that this was a time before the internet had caught on and you didn't have instant access to the myriad databases of wildly varied porn that it brought with it. Today, it takes three seconds to find 800 pictures of naked women. Back in my day, that had to be earned.

Basically, the only exposure we had to nude women was through stolen Playboys or carefully paused scenes in movies.

This... This was a treasure trove of beautiful artwork, a cache of artfully displayed female form.

Also, boobs.

He went from being a practically useless member of the group to near mythological stature. We practically bowed at his feet, waiting to share in his knowledge.

Then, as dutifully as one could imagine, he carefully distributed the pages to the group. Each boy received one and were careful not to question their portion lest he tear it out of their hand.

I can still remember the page he handed me. I honestly can't remember what I had for lunch yesterday, but I remember that moment with such glaring detail that it's a little frightening. I could tell you what each boy was wearing and even what the air smelled like.

That page became a priceless artifact to me. I hid it in my room to protect it from my mother's prying eyes and would carefully study every detail.

The images were practically burned into my brain.

The only thing I did not know was the woman's name. During the no doubt Ocean's Eleven-ish theft, he was not afforded the luxury of picking and choosing what to take. All I had was a single page, back and front printed with images of this nameless woman.

At some point through my life, the page was lost. Either during a move or perhaps discovered and quietly destroyed by my mother.

It was gone.

Fastforward to this morning. As I was scrolling through this somewhat interesting, but albeit mundane archive of covers, I saw her. It was the same face, the same eyes that I had spent hours staring at as a young man.

Just staring.

Honestly.

This might not seem like a big thing, but it really hit me for a loop. The memory of those pictures had been lost to time, buried in years of non-boob related events.

And then, there they were.

And I finally learned her name. Kata Karkkainen.

I could finally put a name to the face.

I said face, dammit.

This morning was a true testament to two very important facts:

1) it is incredible what a simple image can mean to a young man

2) I have WAY too much time on my hands

Well... Duh

2009-12-07T19:16:00.000-08:00

You may or may not have heard that Microsoft has decided to ban a whole bunch of people for abusing an exploit in Call of Duty 6: Modern Warfare 2: Really Long Name.

Basically, if you equip a missile launcher and then something something, when you get killed, your body explodes taking out everyone in a huge blast radius.

Yeah.

This round of bannings has come under criticism (read: internet forum bitching) as players say they are being unfairly punished, that they were simply taking advantage of a glitch in the game. This is not a hack or a mod or anything, but is instead simply using a broken game mechanic.

Their argument is:

a) very logical

b) completely and utterly retarded

There is no way anyone playing the game could have thought this was an intended game mechanic and that using it would be in any way fair.

You explode when you get shot killing everyone within a city block of you.

You really thought that shit was normal?

You can posture all you want about how it's perfect legal to use and/or abuse an exploit you find in a game. By all means, feel free.

Doesn't matter.

See, the fact of the matter is, the whole argument is moot. No matter what their argument is, it is still wrong.

When you sign up to use Xbox Live, you basically sign over full ownership of your little virtual soul.

Or your actual soul. I haven't read the full agreement.

Basically, to play on their servers, you sign a contract stating that they can kick your ass off their servers any time they see fit.

There is no whiny bitching clause.

You exploit, you get banned.

It's that simple.

And, moreover, you freaking deserve to get banned. You went into a game fully intended to f&%@ over everyone you're playing with.

I don't care if the glitch was their fault. Using it was yours.

Do you know a bank can leave all of their money on the counter? Hell, they can leave it on the floor in a big pile if they want.

Still doesn't mean it's okay to take some.

That's stealing.

Yeah, yeah. They forgot to lock it up in the big vault and it was right there for you to take.

Still your fault.

If you make the active decision to use exploits like that, then you have to accept the consequences of your actions.

Be happy. If it was me, I'd mail an armed Javelin missile to your house.

We'll see how freaking funny it is then.

I'm Confused

2009-12-04T17:46:00.000-08:00

Today's port could be considered political and/or controversial in nature.

It really isn't, but I allude to topics that some people might find political and/or controversial if they had nothing better to do with their time than try and start shit over things that aren't actually political and/or controversial.

Thus, I present to you a warning: if this does not seem like your cup of tea, feel free to leave and come back tomorrow. You could pretend I wrote something about retarded Dark Knights and the feeding of said retarded Dark Knights to Jormy.

Oh, that Jormy.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Okay, if you're reading this, then you've decided to take the red pill and see how far down the rabbit hole really goes.

Not really, but it means you're willing to not bitch in the comments.

I'm serious. This is a legally binding agreement that should you try and start some political shit in the comments, you are willing to have your ass kicked.

Do I need to go put my ass kicking shoes on?

No?

All right.

*ahem*

Natalie Portman is retarded.

I don't mean that in the cute "oh, she does something slightly inane so I'll call her retarded" way I may ascribe to other people. This girl is full on, reduced mental ability, makes no goddamned sense retarded.

That's the bad kind of retarded.

That's the kind of retarded that makes [GM]Dave very, very angry.

It also makes him write blog posts with an excessive usage of the word "retarded."

And talk in the third person.

Now, what could make me say something like that about Ms. Portman? Surely, someone so freaking hot couldn't possibly be THAT retarded.

Yeah, they can.

They really, REALLY can.

And I'm not even talking about the new trilogy.

No, Ms. Portman decided to throw down about eating meat. Apparently, she is something of a vegetarian (perhaps related to her having the IQ of a carrot) and decided the best way to handle her feelings about eating meat was to pick a fight over it.

Don't get me wrong. I've got nothing against vegetarians. By all means, you feel free to eat whatever the hell you want.

Broccoli? Sure. Why the hell not?

Just don't start shit with us about eating meat.

Those are your opinions. You are welcome to them.

You are also welcome to keep them to your freaking self.

And how did Ms. Portman pick a fight? Did she talk about the health benefits of vegetarianism versus meatitarianism?

No, she compared eating meat to rape.

Yes, rape.

Yeah. I'm not sure exactly how her parents tried to teach her how to eat meat, but I'm sure a social worker should look into that.

This... Well, this type of hyperbole would be reason enough to call her retarded. Frankly, I think it very clearly makes my case.

But that's not what I'm talking about.

Hyperbole doesn't bother me too much. I've kind of gotten used to stupid people saying things that border on monumentally idiotic.

Part of the job. You have no idea how many people tell me that they will tear SE to the ground if I ban them.

No, hyperbole doesn't bother me.

Contradictions do.

So, Ms. Portman thinks that eating meat is morally wrong. She thinks it is terrible and disgusting and even goes so far as to compare it to rape.

Do you know what she's oddly okay with? Actual rape.

It seems Natalie Portman is one of the many actors and celebrities that have come out in support of Roman Polanski, a man convicted of raping a child.

Yes, I said "in support of".

Huh.

What's she really trying to say? Eating meat is like rape, but rape is okay?

Is she actually encouraging eating meat in possibly the worst method ever conceived?

I don't expect crazy people to not say crazy things. They are, after all, crazy. It kind of comes with the job.

The one thing I do expect is a certain consistency to the crazy.

If you're screaming crazy shit all over the place, you should at least make sure that what you're yelling actually works together.

Two wrong don't make a right, but two crazies sure can make a retarded.

Our World

2009-12-01T20:11:00.000-08:00

I had an epiphany a few minutes ago that I just wanted to share with you.

We run shit.

I know that I've talked about our internet culture running the entire world, but it was always in a sort of half-joking, comical sarcasm. While I do believe we are the driving force in the background of modern life, you could argue that we still have not taken the forefront.

You could have argued that.

Then... Then something interesting happened.

I was watching the Victoria's Secret Fashion Show with Susan. You know, sitting there criticizing all of the girls about how silly they looked.

Totally not thinking about licking chocolate syrup off of them.

Totally not.

And then something amazing took place: a commercial came on.

I know. Commercials come on all of the time. This isn't exactly cracking the Da Vinci Code or anything here. You're watching an hour long commercial that is interrupted briefly for other commercials.

Big deal, right?

No, it was what the commercial was about.

The parade of beautiful women wearing entirely uncomfortable looking undergarments was paused ever so briefly for a commercial about...

Bacon.

Yes, bacon.

That's when it struck me. Holy freaking shit, I was right. The internet does run everything.

Tits, ass, and bacon. That's what we do.

Throw in Chuck Norris wearing a Three Wolf Moon shirt with Rick Astley singing in the background and that's the entire internet.

Sure, you could say it was just a coincidence. You could say that it was just a random occurrence.

You could say that a bacon producing company paid an obscene amount of money to get their advertisement played during a popular television event.

But no.

That was us.

That was us telling the rest of the world that we got this. This is our world now.

Sit back and watch your football and your reality TV. Sit back and watch your made for TV movies and your daytime talk shows.

We're the ones controlling that shit.

And when we get around to getting rid of all of that inane garbage, they'll thank us. They'll stand up in their living rooms and give thanks for their new internet overlords for we will usher in a new era of prosperity for humanity.

Except replace "prosperity" with "tits, ass , and bacon".

It's a brave new world.

Yeah... I Noticed...

2009-11-29T16:43:00.000-08:00

A couple of people have e-mailed me about the fan pack. It's been well over a month since the last one and some people are getting antsy.

I noticed that.

Unfortunately, there doesn't seem to be a lot of interest in the fan packs lately. Maybe it's the time of year and money's tight or maybe it's just the economy and whatnot, but interest has definitely dropped off.

Don't get me wrong. I totally get that. Money is super tight here, too.

And Susan just INSISTS on feeding our daughter EVERY DAY. What the hell is that all about?

The thing is that the fan pack is three or four days of solid writing. I usually don't get to sleep until two or three in the morning on fan pack nights.

Yeah, I'm up that late anyway most days, but that's different. That's hunting NMs or something. I usually end up with a some awesome piece of gear or something.

Or a hat.

Who doesn't like a new hat?

I'm going to keep doing the fan packs because... Well, because I like doing them. It's interesting to try and create something a little different than the average blog post.

Plus, I enjoy forcing my opinions about movies and games on you.

You will read them and you will adhere to them, damn you.

But I will probably be adjusting the schedule a bit. If it's a money thing and you can't afford to donate every four weeks, then I can adjust the schedule to make it easier on you.

Plus, I can get more sleep.

Or more hats.

YAY, HATS!

If it's not a money thing, let me know what you'd like to see. Post a comment about what you like and what you don't.

See, the blog itself is about me. I write what I like and you are welcome to read it.

The fan pack is for you guys.

If you have a suggestion or a request, feel free to make it. I'll see what I can do.

No furry porn.

Seriously. No furry porn.

You have no idea how many people ask about Mithra furry porn.

I'm not even kidding.

Those people go on a list. When the revolution happens and I am crowned king and ruler of the Earth, those people will be the first to die.

Them and the entire cast of The Hills.

Anyway, I'll be back tomorrow once I finalize plans for a theme week. Last month's top donator has thrown a few good ideas my way, but we haven't narrowed it down yet.

Apparently, "That's the dumbest thing I've ever heard" just isn't considered constructive criticism.

Damned baby.

Oh... The Pain...

2009-11-26T19:36:00.000-08:00

This happens every year.

Every single year.

I wake up with the best of intentions. I plan an entire day of uninterrupted gaming scheduled around gorging myself on turkey and other turkey-adjacent foods.

A whole day of fun and getting some serious shit done in game. Got to camp a few NMs and maybe do some crafting. Run a few missions in the afternoon.

Whatever.

A whole day just for me.

And then... We eat.

You'd think there would be some part of the human brain that tells you to stop freaking eating because you're about to pass out. That might help you stop before your stomach is distended and you're praying for death.

I was in so much pain after I ate that I honestly thought I was going to die.

It was everything I could do just to eat that slice of pie.

My whole day of gaming ruined. I couldn't drag myself out of my tryptophan-induced coma long enough to grab a controller, let alone be in anyway productive in a game.

Yeah, Mario... You're going to have to save that bitch by yourself. I'mma take a nap over here.

Tell Toadstool that he's an annoying little F&%@er when you see him.

How can anyone be expected to actually sit up and play video games that require focus and concentration when I can feel like I'm about to explode?

Hell, how can anyone be expected to actually sit up?

I have no idea why I do this to myself? There'll still be turkey left tomorrow.

I can eat it in front of the television while watching news reports over someone getting beaten to death for the last Dora the Explorer doll.

Fun.

But no. I have to eat as much as can physically fit into my torso as quickly as humanly possible.

That's the whole point of Thanksgiving: eating until you are in too much pain to move around.

Yeah, yeah. All that giving thanks bullshit. If you actually believe that, I've got a wonderful bridge I'd like to sell you.

No, Turkey Day is about turkey.

That's it. Vegetarians be damned.

It is my privilege, nay my right to eat enough food to feed a third world family for a month.

There are children starving in India.

And I aim to keep it that way.

Still, you'd think after so many years of being on this planet, I would have learned just the slightest bit of moderation when it comes to Thanksgiving.

I'm not a stupid guy. I learn quickly.

Don't drop babies. See, I learned that after the third time.

Fast learner.

But put me at a table with a near endless supply of turkey and get ready for an afternoon of groaning and bitching.

And napping.

And more eating.

I'm not kidding. I'm here in physical pain and, for some reason I do not understand, I'm sitting here still eating.

And I'm going to keep eating until they have to cut a wall out of my house to drag my lifeless body to the hospital.

Anything less would be incredibly disrespectful to the pilgrims or Mayans or whatever.

Happy Turkey Day, people.

Train Derailed...

2009-11-24T19:56:00.000-08:00

I was just getting ready to write something when I heard screaming and crying coming from my daughter's room.

I don't mean like regular whimpering or anything. This was screaming and crying like she was getting beaten.

No, Susan was not beating her.

As a father, it is one of my many duties to run headlong toward sounds of danger and distress from my child. Basically, whenever my child screams in mortal terror, I am REQUIRED to run directly toward that sound.

Side note: What the F&%@, Biology? Why the hell am I programmed to go defend my kid?

This is survival of the fittest around here. If she happens to be getting murdered or eaten by a pack of hungry dogs or something, that's just the beautiful circle of life. Who am I to interfere?

Let the kid die.

Anyway, I run full speed to her room expecting the worst. Blood, vomit, severed limbs, whatever. The way she's screaming and crying, it could be anything.

I quote:

Daughter>> I didn't get to finish Handy Manny.

Let me break this down for you: she woke up in the middle of the night and freaked out because she didn't get to finish watching a show like 4 hours ago?

What the hell?

You know, three minutes after we shut off the TV, that makes sense. Feel free to file a complaint.

Daughter>> Daddy... What's that big dragon thing?

No. No. I would not feed my daughter to Jormy.

I'm fairly certain I wouldn't do that.

Still, after four hours, she's kind of lost her right to argue the point. You know, since it is late and she is in bed.

Also, the show has been over for three and a half hours.

And I had to spend ten minutes calming her down and telling her we'd watch it tomorrow. Ten minutes of trying to make her feel better about the thing that took four hours to register.

Man, kids are F&%@ed up.

Let's Not Get Ahead Of Ourselves

2009-11-22T20:08:00.000-08:00

Last week saw some interesting news on the video game front as the National Institute on Media and the Family (NIMF) announced they will shut their doors at the end of the year.

Apparently, sitting around making up lists about what games kids shouldn't play doesn't make as much money as you'd think.

Now, the reaction on the gamers' side has been mostly positive. A lot of gamers saw those lists as an indictment of gaming as a whole. Do we really need another list of the most violent games of a year?

Gaming isn't all violence. Yes, some games do involve violence, but the majority do not.

Unless you include plumber on turtle violence.

Then... Yeah.

The thing is, this isn't really a reason to celebrate. This isn't a victory any gamer should be happy about.

Yeah, they gave violent games a lot of shit. They created lists to keep parents from buying violent games.

That's not bad.

See, it wasn't censorship exactly. They were actually trying to educate parents about how little Billy maybe shouldn't be allowed to play the game with all the dismembering and the disemboweling and the hey now.

That's a noble ideal.

Sure, how they went about it made gamers a little angry. We tend not to like when anyone suggests that there could be anything wrong with video games whatsoever.

We're a very angry people.

Not at all related to video games, though.

But if you look at it honestly, what they were trying to do wasn't all bad. Behind the big bad list of the evil vidjeo games, there was a message that parents should work to make good choices for their children.

I'm sorry, but your ten year old kid shouldn't be playing Call Of Duty. If you purchased this game for your child, you are a terrible parent.

A lot of parents don't know that. All they know is that Christmas time is coming or it's Billy's birthday and all he wants is that MurderKiller8000 game for his Wiistation 480.

How bad could it be, right? Let's just take your kid's judgment on that one.

People don't end up violent because of video games. They end up violent because of their moron parents.

NIMF tried to change that. They were a cheat sheet for game buying.

I'm sure they did other things, but since they are not related to video games, they have no bearing on my life.

They were trying to help parents understand what games their kids were asking for were really like.

Was that really so bad?

Yeah, we won't have another list to bitch and moan about, but we'll also have entire fields of tech-retarded parents buying their retarded kids whatever games they ask for.

And servers packed deep with their retarded offspring.

Then one of those retarded, neglected children is going to do something stupid and/or violent. And who are they going to blame?

That's right. Video games.

Not the idiot parents who bought the game without finding out what it was about. No, sir.

Seriously, this was a hollow victory and not one to be celebrated.

...

We did win though.

Rage of the Red Mages

2009-11-19T20:25:00.000-08:00

You may or may not believe this, but I play FFXI a lot.

I know. You're shocked.

The Thing is I don't think you quite understand how much I play this game. I don't think you, a perfectly reasonable, normal person, can fathom just how much time I spend playing.

A rational brain probably can't even perceive it.

I have leveled so many characters, a countless legion of warriors and mages spread across all of the races.

Okay, maybe not countless. There have been like 16 or 17 of them.

Still, that's a lot of freaking characters.

Some of them started out as crafting mules that I leveled up enough to farm their own materials.

Some of them started out as a flicker of thought in a moment of boredom.

One started out just so I could see what my main would have looked like as a chick.

Answer: hot.

I'm not sure I should be proud of that.

I am proud, but I'm not sure I should be.

Anyway, one of the side effects of this process is that I have spent an exorbitant (spelled that correctly on the second try) amount of time playing most of the jobs available in FFXI.

Most of you know my main job is Dragoon. All of my characters eventually end up spending some part of their career as a Dragoon.

But not their entire career.

No, to add some spice to the mix, I like to mix up my job classes now and again, just to see how the other half lives.

Or the other 95%.

I've dabbled in the magery (totally made that one up) from time to time and I must admit I have spent a hell of a lot of time playing as a Red Mage.

This has everything to do with their versatility and absolutely nothing to do with their awesome freaking pimp hat.

Absolutely nothing.

Nothing at all.

During my time playing Red Mage and leveling several characters as Red Mages, I can come to an interesting conclusion: I am not an expert at being a Red Mage.

Honestly, the job is so freaking complex. It takes a massive attention to timing and detail, and requires a lot of focus.

I love Dragoon, but that's like hit attack, hit jump, go make a sandwich. You come back, thing is dead.

Boom, exp.

Also, boom, sandwich.

When I'm playing Red Mage, I just feel like there's too much shit to do. You're always watching this timer and watching that guy's mp.

Don't get me wrong. I kick freaking ass as a Red Mage. I don't do this shit half-assed. When I'm in the pimp suit, I'm always bringing my A game.

But I still don't conisder myself an expert. Even after so much experience.

Funny story: Do you know who is an expert at being a Red Mage?

EVERY OTHER FREAKING PLAYER IN THE GAME!

Never play Red Mage before? Have a barely passing knowledge of the job mechanics? Have you accidentally visited a Red Mage forum? Did you own a Brady Guide?

If you answered yes to any of these questions, you are APPARENTLY an freaking expert at being a Red Mage.

I know this because every time I play Red Mage, EVERY FREAKING TIME, I am surrounded by people who want to explain to me how I should play my job.

Oh, you need a refresh now? Thanks for telling me. I have no way of figuring that shit out. They should really put a little bar underneath your hp that could go up when you have refresh on.

I will speak to the devs about that.

You know, after I HOP IN MY TIME MACHINE.

When exactly did the logic train derail and kill everyone on board here? When did it become normal practice to explain to other players how to play their job?

You don't see people giving Paladins helpful F&%@ing hints.

Hey, Dark Knight. You should try missing less.

You don't do that. You join a party and you assume everyone knows how to do their freaking job. You assume the tank is going to keep hate. You assume the healer is going to keep you up. You assume the melees are going to lay down damage.

Oh, wait. There's a Red Mage in your party. You better tell that bastard what to do.

What the hell is that?

Red Mages are an integral part to many party dynamics and provide an important resource to any group.

They are not the retarded kid next door that needs to be reminded to wipe his ass before he gets on the little yellow bus.

We got this. We are well in control of the situation.

If you don't have refresh for three or four seconds, maybe we're busy doing something. Maybe we're doing something else and you can wait.

Hold your breath, too. That helps.

Either you'll calm down or you will pass the F&%@ out and won't be able to type any more.

I was in a party earlier and this one guy, a WAR/NIN, just wouldn't shut the F&%@ up. The whole time we were in a party together, all he did was bitch.

HE DOESN'T EVEN HAVE MP AND/OR REQUIRE REFRESH.

All he did was tell me how to do my own job better. He questioned my timing, my refresh cycle order, everything.

He even questioned my equipment.

WAR>> Why are you wearing that earring?
[GM]Dave>> It's the best earring for my level.
WAR>> No, it's not.
[GM]Dave>> Yes.
[GM]Dave>> Yes, it is.
WAR>> You don't know shit.
WAR>> I'd never wear that earring.
[GM]Dave>> What level is you Red Mage?
WAR>> 23.

This is a level 65-67 party, mind you.

[GM]Dave>> You need to shut up now.
[GM]Dave>> Forever.
WAR>> What a noob.
[GM]Dave>> Psssttt. Hey, leader. We should totally boot the WAR.
WAR>> You moron.
WAR>> You said that in party chat.
[GM]Dave>> I know.
[GM]Dave>> If I whispered, you wouldn't see it.
WAR>> Man, you're a joke.
WAR>> You're the worst Red Mage I've ever seen.
[GM]Dave>> Wait a second...
[GM]Dave>> How about now?
WAR>> A sword?! You equipped a sword now?!
WAR>> What the hell are you going to use a sword for?
[GM]Dave>> Well, if you don't shut up...
[GM]Dave>> I'm going to F&%@ing cut you.

He quieted down after that.

At least, I assume he did. It was hard to tell after I fed him to Jormy, booted him off the server, and then permabanned his account.

I like to imagine that he then took his own life.

I have no way of verifying that, but it makes me smile.

600!

2009-11-16T18:09:00.000-08:00

Wow.

Just... Just wow.

I have sat down at this computer (or a random assemblage of parts made to resemble this computer) and written 600 blog posts.

Assuming you include this one.

If you don't, just read the next post and then come back. That'll be 600.

Either way, that's a lot of freaking mindless rambling.

I have no allusions about my writing. I entirely understand that I'm not writing epic plays that will stand the test of time and will be taught to future school children as examples of remarkable writing.

Probably not.

Still, the fact that some of you have even bothered to read 600 of my rants and ravings is a huge compliment.

Or a testament to having too much spare time.

I'm very glad though that I've managed to make a little part of your day better 600 times.

About 300 of them were probably funny.

Fine... 200.

You don't see me giving you shit about your job, do you?

See, if you think about it 1/3 isn't that bad a ratio. Being funny 1 out of every 3 posts is pretty damned good in the grander scheme of things.

Yes, if I was a doctor, those would be... Less than ideal statistics. I doubt many people would want to end up with a doctor that kills 2 out of 3 patients.

Me? I just write unfunny shit about video games.

Or movies.

Or that cashier at Taco Bell that can't freaking get your order right.

Seriously. You sell tacos and other tacos. What the F&%@?

See? It's witty observations like that that keeps you guys coming back for more.

... Seriously, it'll be funnier. I'm working on stealing some Eddie Murphy material right now. I'm not kidding, this shit is really funny.

It's Hilarious.

Kidding, kidding. I really don't think Eddie Murphy does a routine about video games and/or large dragons.

I am totally not Googling that right now.

...

Shit.

Just A Bad Idea

2009-11-13T20:42:00.000-08:00

First off, thanks to everyone who suggested ways of fixing my computer after it went kablooie. I actually used a boot CD to roll back my registry and problem solved.

My carefully organized and indexed collection of porn has survived. Huzzah!

I actually had an awesome boot CD, the Ultimate Boot CD for Windows, that had everything I needed. That thing has gotten me out of more than one jam and luckily, it came through again.

My baby is humming again.

Now, on to business...

You may or may not have heard that there was a new game released this week called Call of Duty 6: Modern Warfare 2.

Honestly, I don't think it got very much media attention.

This game has me worried.

Don't get me wrong here. I love me some FPS action now and again, and Call of Duty knows how to deliver.

Though haven't we pretty much got this all covered?

While we're at it, why don't we go back and make another Star Wars game that involves the battle on Hoth? You don't see enough of that.

But that's not my reason for concern for this game.

No, my reason for concern is the limited edition, collector's Prestige Edition of the game. This magnificent set comes with:

a) a copy of the game (duh)
b) a beautiful artbook
c) a download coupon for the original Call of Duty
d) night vision goggles

Wait... What was 'd' again?

Oh yeah. NIGHT VISION GOGGLES!

This is a bad idea.

Actually, that is an understatement. This is a universally, majestically, stellar clusterf&%@ of an idea.

They are selling a violent shooting game with night vision goggles.

FUNCTIONING night vision goggles.

Sure, these aren't exactly military grade, but they still pose a significant threat.

There is no logical reason why your average gamer would need a pair of night vision goggles. Yeah, you can make up a bunch of barely sensible uses, but on a basic level, we all know these things are complete useless.

Unless you're insane.

If you just happen to be insane, the makers of Call of Duty have been nice enough to provide you with proper murdering/stalking equipment.

Have we not seen enough poor decisions that we are now actively equipping people with tools to seriously injure other human beings?

If there is any one thing that humans excel at, it is taking what seems like a perfectly good idea and turning into a country-wide killing spree.

I suppose the Ultimate Prestige Edition comes with night vision goggles, a loaded handgun, and directions to your ex-girlfriend's house.

Two weeks. I give it two weeks before some moron ends up using these goggles to commit a crime and then we've got months and months of listening to other morons tell us how video games are creating killers.

Really, it's not the video game's fault.

It's the video game COMPANY'S fault.

THEY GAVE THEM FREAKING NIGHT VISION GOGGLES! WHAT GOOD COULD POSSIBLY COME FROM THIS?!

Oh... You can pee at three AM without turning on the light.

That's pretty damned convenient.

Karma Is A Bitch

2009-11-10T20:14:00.000-08:00

Just a couple of days ago, I was going on and on about Susan f&%@ing up her laptop.

I should have known better.

Barely an hour after I finished the post, my computer started acting funny. First, it started to slow down and lag. Next, programs wouldn't open.

It wouldn't even shut down properly.

I figured a shut down and restart might be the best option.

The shutdown part went wonderfully. It shut down incredibly quickly and with no problems.

Pulling the power cord does that.

Okay, so shut down part was done.

Check.

And then to restart...

Restart...

Re... Start...

Huh. Look at that. Apparently, I changed my wallpaper to a big black screen.

And removed all of my icons.

And my taskbar.

My mouse was there. That's how I figured out two pieces of information:

1) it's not my monitor

2) it's not my mouse

Aside from that, I didn't know shit. It could have been the freaking dilithium crystals for all I freaking knew.

My harddrive with gigs upon gigs of irreplaceable (and probably not backed up) files could be reduced to cinders and ashes.

But the mouse still works, right? It's all about the little victories, people.

And what do I see when I turn my head?

That's right. Susan's smug grin.

That shit ain't funny.

Oh, yeah. It was the end of the freaking world when her computer was nothing but digital ruin, so much technology done in by a mediocre reality show.

When it's my computer, suddenly the whole thing is freaking hilarious.

Oh, oh, it's just a computer.

That's like saying it's just a lung. Or a kidney.

Not a liver. I'm WAY nicer to my computer than my liver.

And the whole time, she's typing away on her's. Playing Text Twist.

MotherF&%@ing Text Twist.

My computer, my tiny, technological idol, my only connection to my people is broken and she's smiling and playing Text Twist.

Do you know a six letter word for that? BETRAYAL.

I know that's not six letters. I couldn't think of a six letter word that would make sense.

Spelling is hard.

So, now I'm here, using a system cobbled together from random spare parts and duct tape, trying to figure out what the hell happened.

And what's Susan doing?

Still playing Text Twist.

BETRAYAL.

Goddammit. I KNOW THAT'S NOT SIX LETTERS!

Can't you people just leave shit alone?

Shoot. Self.

2009-11-08T18:55:00.000-08:00

I was sitting around yesterday thinking about everything I have going on in my life. You know, all of the things that eat away at my day.

Between the wife, the daughter, working, blogging, and playing video games, there's roughly 17 minutes of my day that aren't accounted for.

Some day in the future, I hope to sleep again.

Anyway, having decided I just had WAY too much free time, I decided to get a second job.

Or a third if you include the blogging.

Fourth if you include the fact that I'm a registered sex machine.

Seriously. There's a certificate and everything.

It's laminated.

And what would my new job be? Firefighter? Experimental jet pilot? Mild-mannered news reporter?

Tech support.

Yes, Tech Support.

No, I don't know why I do this to myself.

No, I don't know why I hate myself.

You're probably thinking that they're paying me an ungodly amount of money. That is the only possible reason to put myself through that kind of torment.

Not so much.

My boss isn't actually paying me.

Half of you are confused. The other half know exactly where this is going because it's happened to them too.

This is how my first call went.

[GM]Dave>> Tech Support. Dave speaking.
[GM]Dave>> How can I help you today?
Susan>> There's something wrong with my computer.
[GM]Dave>> Uh huh.
[GM]Dave>> Can you tell me what kind of computer you're using?
Susan>> You're right there.
Susan>> You can see it.
[GM]Dave>> Uh huh.
[GM]Dave>> Have you contacted your system administrator?
Susan>> THAT'S YOU.
[GM]Dave>> Okay...
[GM]Dave>> What seems to be the problem?
Susan>> Why are we pretending we're on the phone?
[GM]Dave>> I didn't catch that, ma'am.
[GM]Dave>> Could you speak directly into the phone?
Susan>> ...
Susan>> Fine. Whatever.
Susan>> It's acting funny.
[GM]Dave>> Is it performing unwanted actions?
[GM]Dave>> Or is it doing impressions?
Susan>> You know what I mean.
[GM]Dave>> Please be more clear, ma'am.
[GM]Dave>> What exactly is it doing?
Susan>> Sigh...
Susan>> I'm getting pop-ups.
Susan>> And some programs aren't working.
[GM]Dave>> Okay... Got it...
[GM]Dave>> Let's reboot the system and see if that helps.
Susan>> That didn't work.
Susan>> You just watched me reboot the thing.
Susan>> Rebooting doesn't help.
[GM]Dave>> Okay...
[GM]Dave>> Let's go ahead and shut it down.
Susan>> Are you getting me to reboot it again?
[GM]Dave>> Go ahead and shut it down.
Susan>> I'm seriously going to hurt you if that's it.
[GM]Dave>> Is it shut down yet?
Susan>> You know it is.
Susan>> You're twelve feet away.
[GM]Dave>> Okay... Let's just wait a minute.
Susan>> If you're just doing a reboot...
Susan>> I swear to God, I will punch you in the trachea.
[GM]Dave>> Just a minute.
Susan>> I'm not kidding.
[GM]Dave>> Okay, go ahead and start her back up.
Susan>> I hate you.
[GM]Dave>> Did that fix the problem?
Susan>> You know it didn't.
[GM]Dave>> Uh huh, uh huh.
[GM]Dave>> What were you doing when you noticed the problem?
Susan>> I was downloading episodes of Project Runway.
[GM]Dave>> What kind of virus scanner were you using?
Susan>> I have no idea.
Susan>> Did you put one on there?
[GM]Dave>> So... You were visiting random websites.
[GM]Dave>> With no actual virus protection?
Susan>> Only a bunch of Chinese ones.
[GM]Dave>> ... Wow.
Susan>> What do I do?
[GM]Dave>> Do you have Windows?
Susan>> Yeah.
[GM]Dave>> Open the nearest and place the computer outside.
[GM]Dave>> It'll be safe now.

She didn't find that part funny.

You know what I didn't find funny? Spending the next six hours trying to fight off the horde of viruses that she had let gangrape her computer.

Oh, and a rootkit. A rootkit that disabled any and all rootkit removal tools.

You'd think that they would mention that on the download site.

Warning: This program doesn't do shit.

A rootkit removal program that fails to remove a rootkit has failed on a fundamental level.

Hours and hours of work trying to save files and pictures only to have to reformat the entire thing and spend ANOTHER six hours downloading and reinstalling everything.

Along with six virus scanners.

Don't worry, computer. I won't let the bad woman hurt you anymore.

The Line

2009-11-05T18:29:00.000-08:00

Designing a fair and moral MMORPG is a really complex endeavor.

On the one hand, in an ideal world, a game would be entirely free to play offering maximum content to all users without any money changing hands.

On the other hand, money is awesome.

This puts any game designer in a serious bind. It would be really great to offer constantly changing material that is adequately maintained for free, but that model is nowhere near feasible in today's business world.

So, what do they do?

Well, that's where things get interesting. There are several common MMORPG business models.

1) Everything is free

Yay. Everything is free. No money down, no money on delivery, and easy monthly payments of zero dollars.

This sounds like the best system.

On paper.

Or... A blog, as it were.

This seems to be the greatest value/cost model for the player. Since you're not paying any money, receiving any service at all means a great deal of value.

What could possibly go wrong?

Well, it's kind of hard to keep a business going with no actual income. You can't have developers and tech crew and the ever important GM staff running 24/7 when you're not willing to pay them.

I mean, I love being a GM, but if they stopped paying me, I'd be out like a scout on a new route.

Oh, and while free content sounds awesome, you usually get what you pay for. Instead of carefully refined events and graphics, you get something that looks like your video card is trying to commit suicide.

Not good.

Sooner or later, this model runs out of steam.

And by "steam" I mean "money".

Then, they are stuck restructuring.

"Restructuring" means they go out of f&%@ing business.

2) Everything is "free"

Pay very careful attention to those quotation marks. They are going to be very important.

Some MMORPGs like to play a little game of semantics. They tell you the game is "free to play", but then include a premium account option.

Basically, you CAN play for free, but someone with a credit card and disposable income is going to totally destroy your ass.

That's an option. Right there in the menu, there's a button that says "kick free players ass".

Those are some damned important quotation marks, am I right?

3) You can buy EVERYTHING

These guys don't even try to be subtle about it. Everything in the game can be purchased with real money.

Everything.

Need some epic piece of gear? You could:

Step 1) get a group together
Step 2) develop strategy
Step 3) organize group and explain strategy
Step 4) get group to event safely
Step 5) run time intensive event
Step 6) have to repeat event again and again due to terrible drop rates and/or terrible group.

or

Step 1) get out Visa card
Step 2) done

While this seems like a good system for those willing to spend the money, it's really kind of a dick move. You're basically gouging players for every item AND you're only propagating the real money for virtual items business.

Do I really need to explain how I feel about that part?

4) The subscription model

Here's where FFXI falls. You pay a set monthly fee and that's it. That fee covers the general services provided and allows for development of new content.

You have no problem understanding right where you are. There's no pressure to buy a big item because... Well, because you can't. You need to earn it.

This is hardcore. Your Visa card ain't worth shit over here.

... Except for your monthly fees. You'll totally need a Visa card for that.

Best of all, all players are on equal footing and only skill and commitment will decide who is better. You can't buy an advantage.

For general, all-around player satisfaction, this really is the best model. I really think this is the best.

And that has nothing to do with it being responsible for my paycheck.

Nothing at all.

That's pretty much every...

Wait... There's another business model? What are you talking about?

4) WoW

Haha, bitches. It's another episode of Everything [GM]Dave Hates About WoW.

Today's episode: payment plan

At first glance, WoW seems to follow the same payment model as FFXI. You pay a standard fee each month and that's it.

Right?

Not so much.

It started really slowly. They came out with the card game and certain cards gave in-game items like mounts and such. You buy the card and you get a free in-game item.

While this wasn't strictly a real money/virtual item exchange, it was as damned close as you could get.

Basically, they took the real money/virtual item model and jammed the word "card" in the middle.

Still, I could kind of let that go. At least you got a sweet card out of it that did have some benefit in the real world.

I could grudgingly accept that.

At least the weren't directly selling in-game items for real world money, right?

Whoops. Spoke too soon.

This is where WoW officially crossed the line between subscription base to RMT.

Yeah, yeah. It's only a completely original, not-at-all ripped off from a animated movie Panda who just happens to know Kungfu.

And a cat that I don't have a relevant imdb link for.

Yet.

Sure, it's just two in-game pets, but this is really starting down a slippery slope. First, it's the cute pets, then a new piece of gear.

Pretty soon, kids are maxing out their credit cards buying epic mounts and arena gear.

Tsk, tsk, WoW. I really thought you were better than that.

That's really not true, but at least it gives me one more thing to bitch about.

You know how I do so love the bitching.

Still Valid

2009-11-04T13:45:00.000-08:00

I didn't have a chance to read the comments on the last post until today. Things have been very hectic around here the past few days.

Damned Star Road.

Anyway, as I was reading the comments, I noticed that some people mentioned that the post was almost exactly a cut and paste from last year's Halloween post.

My wife suggested I apologize, but I'm not going to. My reasons for not apologizing are threefold:

1) [GM]Dave does not apologize

[GM]Dave is not burdened by such silly things as a conscience or "emotions". I do not feel bad for the things I do.

Yes, ever so rarely, I may analytically understand how something I have said may be construed as "wrong" or "offensive". I may offer up an apology as means of expressing that understanding, but not as an admission of remorse.

2) My points are still entirely valid

Re-reading last year's post, I will acknowledge certain "similarities" to my recent Halloween post.

While this does make the points I made seem less original, it does not make them any less valid.

People not wearing masks or costumes on Halloween immediately places them in the retarded category. This cannot be debated.

While my post may borrow from last year's, since the event that instigated both posts was repeated, my ranting is just as valid as it was when it was first written.

3) ... I kind of forgot I wrote it

Yeah, I totally forgot I wrote that. I was coming down off a SERIOUS sugar high and Susan was sick of listening to me bitch about the morons who came begging for food.

Seriously, one kid showed up wearing a hoodie and a backwards hat. He didn't even say Trick or Treat. He just shoved his pillowcase out and waited for me to put candy in it.

The fact that I did not throttle him shows just how much I've grown as both a person and a person who does not want to get arrested.

Susan, of course, was understanding of my anger.

She suggested I just go blog it out.

So I did.

My fingers still twitching from a near fatal glucose overdose, I sat down and just got my rant on. I just wrote whatever came into my Snicker-addled mind.

There was a moment, ever so brief, where I actually thought this sounded familiar. I'm pretty sure it was around the "organized begging".

I just thought I was stealing from someone else. No big deal.

Apparently, my brain was stealing from myself.

Damned brain.

Honestly, I'm actually a little impressed at how close the two posts were. I hadn't reread it until today, so you have to admit that's pretty impressive.

Sad, but impressive.

I'd never stoop so low as to copy and paste from my own posts. Just the idea of it makes me angry.

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

So Goddamn Simple

2009-11-02T17:48:00.000-08:00

What the hell has gone wrong with Trick or Treaters?

I realize kids these days have got the attention span of your average mosquito, but the very least these little bastards can do is put on a freaking costume.

The Halloween relationship is an incredibly simple one. You dress up in a costume, I provide candy.

That's it. This is not some sort of complex interaction.

Costume.

Candy.

Done.

And yet, I open my door Saturday night and I'm greeted with people wearing jeans and backwards hats.

What the sweet bacon Jesus hell?

Just... Just wear a mask or something. Give me something to work with so that I can at least feel like I'm not just giving food away for no reason.

I'm not asking for a lot. I'm not asking for some intricate play with thought-provoking themes and memorable characters.

I do, however, have some full size snickers bars prepared for just such an occasion.

But give me something, anything.

Just wear... Something.

A mask. A wig. Some make up.

Whatever.

If you're just going around not wearing a costume, then you're not trick or treating. At that point, you're just actively begging for food.

Granted, you're being proactive and going to people's houses to beg. You are the go getter of the homeless panhandler crowd.

Still, you're just begging for food.

Congratulations. You're dressed as a moron.

Next year, and I'm not kidding, I am going to beat the ever-loving shit out of the first kid who shows up at my door without a costume. I am going to go medieval on his ass.

I dare any police officer arresting me to tell me he wouldn't do the same.

I'll be out in less than an hour, sitting outside, eating a freaking bite-sized Kitkat bar, and waiting for the next retard to show up.

That probably won't be a long wait.

Next On Intervention...

2009-10-30T20:10:00.000-07:00

Recently, I've been taking stock of my life. I've been sort of... Auditing my general existence.

In doing so, I have made a huge discovery.

I have an addiction.

Wow. Just saying it makes me feel better. It's like a weight has been lifted from my shoulders.

This has been going on for a long time. I've tried to deny it and explain it away with reasons and excuses.

Not any more. It's time for me to be honest about this.

I am an addict.

No, no. I don't mean FFXI.

That's not addiction. It's a carefully nurtured and maintained obsession.

Very big difference.

Alcohol?

Are you serious?

I'm not addicted to alcohol. That's just plain crazy.

I only need alcohol to function at any point and in any given situation. It helps me wake up in the morning, go to sleep at night, and take the edge off everything in between.

That's not addiction. That's just survival.

Pictured: Daddy's Happy Juice

No, my addiction is much darker, much more frightening.

I'm addicted to hacking game systems.

*ominous roll of thunder*

I'm not sure when it started. Sure, I messed around with Game Genies and Action Replay discs in my time, but they were only passing interests.

You know, youthful experimentation.

Slowly though, a pattern began to emerge. At first, with my PC, it was your basic cracking and whatnot. You know, trying to get around copy protection or unlock full version games.

This was just playing around. I wasn't exactly dialing into WOPR or anything.

Then came the consoles.

As soon as they started putting memory card slots on everything, I started to lose control. The SD card slot on my Wii, the memory stick on my PSP.

They were calling to me, taunting me.

I couldn't resist.

Pretty soon, I was running custom firmware and installing cIOSes all over the place. If it had a memory card of some kind, I was doing everything in my power to pervert its very nature.

My PSP plays Super Mario World.

There is something inherently evil about that concept, but I couldn't help myself.

Why the hell do I need Super Mario World on my PSP?

I OWN SUPER MARIO WORLD AND A FUNCTIONING SNES!

Hell, I probably own three or four copies.

And yet, I went out of my way to exploit the PSP to make it do things it was never intended to do, things that are just plain wrong.

Seriously. Super Mario World.

And my Wii?

Well... Well, that plays Super Mario World, too.

I have no idea why I need two active consoles with Super Mario World-related capabilities.

I also have no idea why this is apparently the only thing I do with my modified systems.

You'd think I would be doing the downloading with the hey hey and the who now. Most people install CFW and modify their systems to play pirated games.

Or they try and create new multimedia platforms based on homebrew software.

Not me.

Me? Super Mario World.

That's it.

It's an illness. A terrible, disgusting illness.

I need help.

No, seriously. I need help. I'm playing on my PSP right now and I can't remember where the red and green switches are located.

... I'm sick.

Statute of Limitations

2009-10-27T18:17:00.001-07:00

I don't mind when people make GM calls to ask questions. We are there at the service of players and to answer any questions they may have no matter how inane.

Shhhhh. Just pretend that's true.

What bothers me though is when people make GM calls to complain about things.

The GM petition system is not a complaints line. This is not a glorified call centre and it is not our job to listen to people bitch.

We do have one guy in charge of handling complaints.

Pictured: Complaints Manager

I don't think you want to talk to him either.

I mean, you can go ahead and try to talk to him, but your question better involve the quickest way to get digested by a large purple lizard.

Despite the fact that we're not here to listen to your retarded bitching, that makes up roughly 80-90% of all GM calls.

Fine. Whatever.

I talk to you for four minutes and then I destroy your character, ban your account, ruin your credit rating, and mail you an incendiary device.

It's a living.

What REALLY bothers me though is when people make GM calls to bitch about shit that we've put aside for YEARS.

There are certain truths to the world of Vana'diel.

*ahem*

Truth 1) There are no male mithras

Quit your freaking bitching already. You are actively making complaints calls because you don't get to pretend you're a cat man.

That is sad on multiple levels. It is the meta-sad.

Truth 2) Elvaans have low dexterity

Elvaans have the dexterity of a blind kid with cerebral palsy. That's not an insult, it's a statement of fact.

Seriously, an Elvaan can throw his hat at the ground and miss.

Truth 3) Galkas have terrible mp

This one... This is the one we get the most complaint calls about. We are deluged on a regular basis with people making emergency GM calls to complain about this obvious imbalance.

You're right. It is obvious.

Just like it was obvious when the first game came out.

The very first players logged in and said "Holy shit! This hairy ape-thing has some retarded mp right here."

WE PUT IT IN THE FREAKING MANUAL!

EVEN THE BRADY GUYS FIGURED THIS SHIT OUT!

I don't give a freaking damn if this is the first time you ever noticed or the first time you decided to complain.

SHUT THE F&%@ UP ALREADY!

The rest of the community has come to terms with this. While we haven't really agreed with it, we have come to accept it.

Do you know what really helped?

Time.

LOTS AND LOTS OF FREAKING TIME.

YEARS, PEOPLE. IT'S BEEN YEARS.

LET IT GO!

I'm not saying you've got to like it. When your retarded Galka Summoner can only keep his avatar out for three quarters of a second, that's f&%@ed up.

Do you know what it's not?

News.

I got a call today. Yet another in the never ending tide of stupid, retarded, useless calls about shit we've all known for years.

Spoiler: I'm not a fan of these calls.

GM Call Description: Complaint about Galka mp

He didn't even try and hide it. He didn't even bother to get all vague about it in hopes of surprising me with his awesome observational skills.

I had to at least respect his bravery in the face of certain death.

Suddenly, I decide to give him a shot.

No, no. Not shoot him.

You'd think I mistreated players or something.

No, I decided to give him the chance to actually sell me on his complaint. I decided to give him five minutes to convince me that his points are valid and not the same tired shit people have been saying for years.

I have no idea why I decided to do that. Apparently, he caught [GM]Dave in one of his incredibly rare good, non-homicidal moods.

It had to happen eventually.

[GM]Dave>> Hail, Adventurer.
[GM]Dave>> I understand you're a time traveler.
Player>> What?
Player>> You mean like a Cavernous Maw thing?
Player>> No, that's not me.
[GM]Dave>> Yeah...
[GM]Dave>> That's what I meant.
[GM]Dave>> Why don't you just tell me your problem?
Player>> Well, I wanted to complain about Galkas.
[GM]Dave>> Is it the ugly?
[GM]Dave>> We tried to warn everyone with the character creator.
[GM]Dave>> There's just no need for that.
Player>> No, no.
Player>> I play a Galka.
[GM]Dave>> I'm sorry.
Player>> I wasn't offended.
[GM]Dave>> No, I'm sorry you have to look at a Galka all day.
Player>> ...
Player>> ... Anyway, I wanted to complain about their mp.
[GM]Dave>> What about it?
Player>> It's too low.
[GM]Dave>> I'm not following.
Player>> Galka mp.
Player>> It's too low.
[GM]Dave>> Sir, the mp status bar is a fixed part of the GUI.
[GM]Dave>> It would be impossible to move it at this time.
Player>> No. That's not what I...
Player>> I mean the amount of mp they get.
[GM]Dave>> What about it?
Player>> It's too low.
[GM]Dave>> What's too low?
Player>> Their mp.
[GM]Dave>> Sir, the mp status bar is a fixed part of the GUI.
[GM]Dave>> It would be impossible to move it at this time.

At this point, I've decided to just screw it and drive him insane.

I don't have the kind of attention span it would take to keep humoring this guy. I might as well get some amusement out of the whole thing.

Everyone needs a hobby.

Player>> NO.
Player>> Galkas don't get enough mp.
[GM]Dave>> For what?
Player>> Pretty much anything.
[GM]Dave>> They can't cast any spells?
Player>> No, they can cast spells.
[GM]Dave>> Then I guess it's good for something.
Player>> Yeah, but...
Player>> But... They can't cast a lot of spells.
[GM]Dave>> Why not?
Player>> Because their mp is too low.
[GM]Dave>> What's too low?
Player>> Their mp.
[GM]Dave>> Sir, the mp status bar is a fixed part of the GUI.
[GM]Dave>> It would be impossible to move it at this time.
Player>> STOP THAT!
[GM]Dave>> Stop what?
Player>> You're driving me insane.
[GM]Dave>> Sir, it wasn't a very far trip.
[GM]Dave>> Engine didn't even get warm.
Player>> I want to file a complaint.
Player>> Galkas don't get enough mp.
Player>> It's not fair.
[GM]Dave>> Really?
[GM]Dave>> They don't get the same amount as everyone else?
Player>> Exactly.
[GM]Dave>> Really?!
[GM]Dave>> THIS IS ENTIRELY NEW INFORMATION!
Player>> ... Are you ebing sarcastic?
[GM]Dave>> NO!
Player>> This isn't funny.
[GM]Dave>> I'm laughing.
Player>> I want something done about this.
Player>> I DEMAND you do something about this.
[GM]Dave>> Sure, sir. No problem.
[GM]Dave>> I'll just hop in my time machine over here...
[GM]Dave>> And go back to when people actually gave a shit.
Player>> But it's not fair. It's unbalanced.
Player>> The other races are different.
[GM]Dave>> Are you honestly arguing that the different races...
[GM]Dave>> ... Are different?
Player>> Exactly.
[GM]Dave>> Wait...
[GM]Dave>> Was I being sarcastic that time or were you?
[GM]Dave>> It's getting hard to tell.
Player>> Sigh...
Player>> Can I just file a complaint please?
[GM]Dave>> What about?
Player>> About the Galka mp thing.
[GM]Dave>> What about it?
Player>> It's too lo... Go f&%@ yourself.
[GM]Dave>> Would you like me to transfer you to the complaints manager?

Recap for you newcomers:

Complaints Manager

Player>> Yes, please.

*GLEE*

Area: Mordion Gaol

Player>> Wait...
Player>> What's going on?

Jormungand hits Player for 12,587 points of damage.
Player was defeated by Jormungand.

[GM]Dave>> Hey, look at that.
[GM]Dave>> Your hp is low, too.

People, it's understandble that there are things about the game that you do not like.

There are things about the game that I don't like.

Players, for instance.

The important thing to remember is to leave that shit in the forum thread you necrobumped from three years ago when people were still worried about this crap.

And not bother me.

EVER.

Best. Name. EVAH.

2009-10-25T19:24:00.000-07:00

*ahem*

Sometimes, through the course of human existence, there is a confluence of events so perfect, so spectacular, so incredible that they create a moment of absolute awesomeness.

It was a day like any other.

Actually, it was a Saturday, so it was a day like 1 / 7 th of all the other days.

Anyway, one of the other GMs brought his nephew into the office. I have no idea why he brought his nephew into the office, but I turned around and there was a kid there.

Since my supervisor denied my suggestion that we employ child laborers, I assumed he must belong to one of the other guys.

[GM]Dave>> Umm...
[GM]Dave>> Did anyone lose a person over here?
OtherGM>> Oh, hey.
OtherGM>> He's mine.
OtherGM>> Well, technically, he's my brother's, but he's with me.
[GM]Dave>> Fascinating.
[GM]Dave>> Let me add that to my Wikipedia page.
[GM]Dave>> You know, the one about all the stuff I don't give a shit about.
OtherGM>> ... Sorry.
[GM]Dave>> This'll only take a second.
OtherGM>> You're actually putting this on Wikipedia?
[GM]Dave>> Isn't that what I said?
[GM]Dave>> This used to be a page about Paraguay.
[GM]Dave>> No one has noticed yet.
OtherGM>> Wow. That's interesting.
OtherGM>> Can... Can we go now?
[GM]Dave>> Just a second. I need his name.
OtherGM>> He's named after my brother, Jack.
[GM]Dave>> Okay... Jack.
[GM]Dave>> Last name?
OtherGM>> Daniels.

*blinkblink*

[GM]Dave>> I'm sorry. It sounded like you said Daniels.
OtherGM>> I did. It's his last name.
OtherGM>> Same as mine.
[GM]Dave>> So his name...
[GM]Dave>> His LEGAL name...
[GM]Dave>> ... Is Jack Daniels?
OtherGM>> Yeah.
OtherGM>> My brother says he didn't even realize when...
[GM]Dave>> OH MY GOD!
[GM]Dave>> JACK DANIELS!
OtherGM>> Could you quiet down?
OtherGM>> I think you're kind of scaring him.

I think my yelling did scare him.

I KNOW he was scared when I held him above my head like the freaking Lion King.

Admittedly, I did not realize how close his head got to that fan.

Oh, he was fine. Couple Dora bandaids and he'll be fine. Slap a couple of bandaids, give him a popsicle, and he won't remember a thing.

He can dress up as Harry Potter for Halloween.

Yay.

In completely unrelated news, we're not allowed to bring kids into the office anymore.

You almost decapitate one kid...

... In A Box.

2009-10-22T16:39:00.000-07:00

There is a movie coming out called "The Box".

No, it's not that kind of movie. Get your mind out of the gutter.

Apparently, it's based on a classic morality question:

You receive a button in a box. If you press the button, you get one million dollars, BUT someone in the world that you don't know dies.

This is both a serious, thought-provoking theoretical situation and an incredibly stupid situation.

I would love for someone to send something like this to me.

Do you have any idea how fast I would press that button? Do they make clocks that measure piccoseconds?

It's a million dollars for me versus death for someone I don't know.

I know me. I like me.

Me would like a million dollars.

Sure, I'd feel bad for getting someone else murdered, but I'm sure that, with time, I could come to terms with that.

Do you know what would help? A yacht.

Besides, it's not really MY fault. Someone else sent me a button in a box.

They wouldn't even have to tell me about the million dollars. It's a button in a box. Who the hell wouldn't press it?

EerieVoice>> If you press the...

*click*

EerieVoice>> Wait... Did you just press the button?
[GM]Dave>> Yeah.
[GM]Dave>> It didn't do anything.
[GM]Dave>> Did I do it wrong?

*clickclickclick*

[GM]Dave>> I think it's broken.
EerieVoice>> STOP PUSHING THE BUTTON!
EerieVoice>> Now...
EerieVoice>> If you push the button, you will receive one million...

*clickclickclickclickclick*

EerieVoice>> You know what? Screw this.
EerieVoice>> I'm going to go kill someone now.

*click*

EerieVoice>> You're an asshole.

I'm sorry, but if you're planning some sort of moral dilemma in today's day and age, you have to be ready for people with no moral center. You have to be ready for people without a conscience or a soul.

Basically, you have to be ready for people like me.

I'm not kidding around. Go ahead and donate a million dollars and tell me you're going to kill someone.

You'll get a fan pack.

[GM]Dave's Regrets - Vol. 7

2009-10-18T16:34:00.000-07:00

So what did I save for my last regret?

I've regretted assaulting girls and not assaulting guys. I've regretted bad jobs and etiquette. I've regretted making my mother cry.

And hell, I REALLY regretted the whole threesome thing.

Or lack thereof.

But what could I have left for last?

Well, one of my biggest regrets is just disappearing for a year.

Yeah, I know. Compared to two hot teenage girls, that doesn't sound like much of a regret, but bear with me here.

I love this blog. Writing this blog makes me smile when I'm pissed off and keeps me sane when the world is driving me crazy.

Plus, no one else really listens to me bitch and complain.

Susan pretends to, but I can see this look in her eye when I really start to geek out. I'm going on and on about how Mario should just let Bowser have that high maintenance bitch and her eyes just sort of glaze over like she's just waiting for me to finish.

Not you guys. You guys actually listen to my wild rantings and ravings.

That means a lot to me.

I ended up quitting for a year because I just felt like it was more work than fun and more pointless than funny.

Don't get me wrong. I know I'm not exactly curing Cancer here, but at least my writings had a point. At least they meant something.

Rather than try and find out what the problem was, I just decided to take a break.

See, that's not a way to solve a problem. You don't really solve a problem by ignoring it.

Unless that problem involves a pet. Ignoring a pet will eventually solve the problem. Sure, it might not get solved in a conventional "everyone is still breathing" kind of way, but it is solved.

I walked away because that was just easier.

Then, I popped in once every few months and said "I'M BACK!"

I wasn't back.

There was no back.

That was a pretty F&%@ED up thing to do. A lot of you guys would check the blog for updates in hopes of an end to my retarded hiatus and then I'd be gone again.

It's probably be funny if I was screwing with you on purpose, but I wasn't. I just kept thinking everything was back to normal and then the same old problems would kick me in the face.

And the worst part is how many great stories I missed, how many things happened at work or in the world that I thought would make great posts.

But I didn't post them.

Why the hell didn't I post them?

That was the weird thing about the whole hiatus nonsense. I had so many things that I thought were funny or awesome (or even retarded), but I didn't post them because I didn't want to feel obligated to post again the next day.

Honestly, I think I just went retarded for a while.

Looking back, the whole thing seems really stupid. Just up and quitting like that. But, in the long run, I think it helped me keep things going because it kept me from burning out.

I just wish I could have figured that out without taking a year off.

Man, the next time someone suggests one of these emotional theme weeks, I'm going to have to tell them to die in a fire or something. This shit just isn't right.

I should be ranting about video games or laughing about that time I killed a hooker or something.

[GM]Dave doesn't do emotions.

Except rage.

Yeah, that one I've pretty much got down.

[GM]Dave's Regrets - Vol. 6

2009-10-17T19:07:00.000-07:00

I'm sure we all had one person in high school we just didn't like. You know, that one guy that you just hated more than anything else.

We all did.

I had Neil.

To say I hated Neil would be possibly the greatest understatement in human history. I did not hate him, I loathed him.

He was my nemesis.

I'd say "eternal nemesis" except I kind of stopped caring the second high school ended.

The funny thing is I don't even remember WHY I hated him so much. Nothing stands out in my mind as a defining moment in our relationship that started our war.

It just was.

Perhaps it was a personality conflict. Maybe our two distinct personalities just weren't compatible.

Or maybe it's because he was a complete and utter dick.

You know... One or the other.

Everywhere I went, he was there and he would go out of his way to piss me off. Honestly, you'd think he didn't have anything better to do with his time given all of his being a dick.

It was a full-time job for this guy.

It took a tremendous amount of will power not to beat the living shit out of him. Seriously, I deserve a Nobel Peace Prize for not taking a chainsaw to his face.

They're not hard to use. You just pull a cord and then apply to face.

It's idiot proof.

Also, idiot correcting.

Anyway, one day we were in language class. We were taking some notes on [insert name of story I don't remember].

Neil was drawing big circles all over my book in pen.

I'm not kidding. He was that big of a dick.

But I controlled myself. I clenched my fists and tried not to be bothered. I knew if I let go, I probably wouldn't be able to stop. I sat there and took nice deep breaths.

Then he scraped the pen down my cheek.

I don't mean he drew a line on my face. He slashed the pen down my face so hard I was surprised that he didn't cut me open.

See? Dick.

Despite my previous attempts to ignore his behavior, I felt that this sort of action could not go without being corrected. At the earliest opportunity, I would have to explain to him basic etiquette and how his action might have been considered hostile.

That doesn't sound like me, does it?

Before his pen hit his desk, I had my forearm on his throat. I pushed his desk halfway across the room until he was pinned up against the wall.

Dave>> If you ever touch me again, I'm going to kill you.
Dave>> I really mean that.
Dave>> Do you understand?

And I held him there, my arm applying significant pressure to his trachea. I held him there until he nodded his understanding.

Then I let him go and just walked calmly back to my seat.

Suddenly, I felt much better. It was like a weight had been lifted from my shoulders.

Then I noticed twenty odd other students staring at me with their mouths agape.

Not to mention my teacher.

Once I showed him my face, he understood exactly what had happened. Even the teaching staff were aware of what a douchebag Neil was, so he kind of got where I was coming from.

Neil even got detention for it.

That's justice right there.

Now, you might be thinking I regret the whole incident. You probably think I wish I could go back and keep myself from being so rough.

Not really, no.

My biggest regret about the whole situation is that I didn't beat the living shit out of him. If I could go back, I'd do it all again and then I'd kick his ass after class.

What?

He was that much of a dick.

[GM]Dave's Regrets - Vol. 5

2009-10-16T20:26:00.000-07:00

You know, with all of the sordid, terrible things I've done in my life, I'm actually finding it difficult to come up with regrets.

Oh, I did lots of horrible things. I just don't feel bad about most of them.

This one is not so much something I did as a decision I made.

When I was in university, I had a little trouble making ends meet. Living on my own was turning out to be much more expensive than I had planned and I found myself running low on cash.

This way or may not have been related to the fact that I was completely unable too cook for myself and instead relied on the kind people of McDonald's for my meals.

One day I made the decision to get a part time job.

This isn't the thing I regret. While yes, getting a job like this is obviously going to suck, it is a fairly normal event for a college student to find a job.

Not exactly breaking new ground here, people.

No, my regret is the job I decided to take.

I needed a job that would allow me time for classes. That meant either evening shifts or night shifts.

This is like telling someone that their entree comes with their choice of kick in the balls or kick in the face.

Evening shifts got ruled out because I had some hope of maintaining an actual social life and the possibility I could get stuck with an evening class.

This left night shifts.

So, what job would befit an angry, people-hating man at night?

Strip club DJ?

No, I do not think my phat beats would we appropriate while watching single moms pole dancing.

Strip club bouncer?

While I do have extensive martial arts training, this still didn't seem right for me. Perhaps it was my generally sunny disposition or the fact that I didn't have a neck wider than my own head.

I'm not sure why all my possible career choices centered around strip clubs.

After some exhaustive research and personality testing, I have come to understand there is a very technical, scientific reason behind this:

Boobs are awesome.

Anyway, when all of my strip club-adjacent job choices didn't pan out, I decided to look for other jobs.

That's when I saw the ad.

Wanted: Night shift workers. Good pay, little customer interaction.

It looked too good to be true. Good money AND I didn't have to deal with people all day? Sign me up.

It wasn't until I went to the interview that I learned exactly what the job entailed. Apparently, this was a steam cleaning company that cleaned the exhaust systems above fast food restaurants.

Because I had spent so much money eating at fast food places, I was stucking cleaning fast food places.

No, the irony was not lost on me.

The boss described it as easy money. Shooting hot water into vents, cleaning up excess water.

How hard could it be?

This is the exact moment I started to regret this decision.

Do you know where they keep the ventilation and exhaust systems for restaurants? Yes, that's right. The roof.

Instead of just "shooting hot water into vents", I was stuck on the roof in freezing cold temperatures trying not to fall to my death or die of hypothermia.

Before you say that's not too bad, I should point out that there were nights when I had to get down into the ventilation system.

You know in movies how they show people crawling through ventilation systems and how nice and neat and clean they are?

That's a F&%@ing lie.

Instead, I was ankle deep in grease, little bits of cooked food clinging to my legs.

You have no idea what that feels like.

And then, we get to the worst part of the job.

I know. You're thinking "ankle deep in chicken grease WASN'T THE WORST PART?" I mean, I was standing in a pool of grease and chicken bits. What could be worse than that?

Do you know what happens to the water you shoot into the vents?

That's right. It pours down the ventilation system and someone has to stand there and clean it up.

That was my job for a while. Stand there holding a shop vac with watery chicken grease raining down on me from above.

I think that's one of the seven circles of hell.

It was so bad that at the end of every night, I had to go home and take a shower. And I'd have to use dish liquid to get rid of the grease.

I know I probably learned a whole lot on that job. I probably learned some valuable skills and maybe, a little humbleness and humility.

Screw that. It was raining chicken grease on my head.

Just so you know, that's is not a natural weather condition. It's not sunny with a 20% chance of raining chicken grease.

I've had many jobs over the years, but that is the one I'd like most to forget.

Well, that and my time spent as a pimp.

[GM]Dave's Regrets - Vol. 4

2009-10-15T18:54:00.000-07:00

Okay, yesterday's regret was a little deeper than my usual stories.

It was also significantly less funny.

To make that up to you, I've decided to tell you one of my deepest regrets that, while incredibly painful for me to relive, is more amusing.

I swear on everything I hold dear, this story is entirely 100% true. I am not going to embellish or exaggerate any detail for comedic effect.

You're probably not going to believe that.

To give you some idea why, this story could well have started with "Dear Penthouse..."

Oh yeah.

Bow chikka wow wow.

I was still a teenager. Don't worry though, I was 16 or 17. This isn't some creepy "when I was twelve" type stories.

It was a perfectly normal day. I wasn't in school, so I'm guessing it was a Saturday.

Most of my day was spent playing some SNES. My best friend was out of town, so I was kind of left with nothing else to do. You know, stuck playing video games by myself.

Any other Saturday, I'd have been doing something much more exciting.

Like playing video games with my best friend.

Anyway, later in the afternoon, my neighbor showed up at my house.

More aptly, it was our neighbor's 16 year old daughter.

Bow chikka wow wow.

We had been friends for a while, but not particularly close friends. We'd talk when we ran into each other and we'd hang out from time to time. She was pretty cool.

Also, hot as all hell.

She asked me if I wanted to come over to her place to "hang out."

I use quotation marks because that's the way it sounded. The way she said it suggested "hanging out" was not what she had in mind.

Being a young man, I was VERY interested in finding out what alternate definition she might be using.

I went with her.

Duh.

So, I'm heading over to my neighbor's house following closely behind his insanely hot daughter.

While I wrote that sentence, I made up my mind that if I ever see a boy trailing closely behind my daughter, I'm going to cut off any part of his body that is too close for my liking.

We get to her place and walk into her kitchen.

Where we find her best friend, Leslie.

Bow chikka wow wow.

I swear I'm not making this up.

She was leaning against the kitchen table and whatever I'd heard in my neighbor's voice was practically dancing in this girl's eyes.

They started with the coy flirting, but they were luckily as subtle as a kick in the face with a steel toed boot.

I say luckily because at this point, certain parts of my brain had started to slowly melt.

This may or may not have been related to the lack of blood in the upper portions of my body.

Pretty soon, they weren't even being subtle about it. They were doing everything in their power to drive me insane.

And it was working.

I was trying to look cool and collected. I like to look back and think I succeeded admirably, but for some reason, I doubt it. Something about being a 16 or 17 year old boy watching two hot chicks flirting just doesn't lend itself to coolness.

Here's where things got really hot. They basically said outright that they wanted to have sex with me.

Both of them.

At the same time.

I know you figured that out and saying that was entirely unnecessary, but I added it for emphasis.

Plus just saying it is awesome.

As a young, verile man, there was really only one thing I could do.

I left.

I swear to God. I made up an excuse and left.

I left.

Just got up and left.

Honestly, I still have no idea why. I have no idea what could possibly have gone through my head, my mind, my brain that made leaving that situation seem like the best course of action.

They could have had guns and I'd have stayed just to see how it played out.

But no. Two hot girls are coming on to me and I decided I should get back to my game of Super Mario World.

To this day, this one event haunts me. I search my mind for some shred of reason as to why I would ever, ever, EVER leave that house.

Nothing. Absolutely nothing.

I swear, if they EVER invent a time machine, I'm going to go back in time and punch myself in the brainpan until I forget algebra.

Actually, I'll go back to that morning, tell myself to man up and THEN punch myself in the brainpan.

I've done some terrible, terrible things in my time. I've done a lot of things that I would later regret.

Do you know what I haven't done?

Two hot chicks.

Dammit.

[GM]Dave's Regrets - Vol. 3

2009-10-14T17:34:00.000-07:00

A lot of people ask me why my mother and I have the relationship that we do.

It's kind of like a love-hate relationship, except I don't actually know if she loves me anymore.

I'm pretty sure that stopped after the third time I banned her.

I think it was the third time.

Well, a lot of that goes back to my childhood. More specifically, one of my biggest regrets from my childhood.

Aren't you glad that I'm doing a whole week of drudging up my emotional baggage for you? I'm going to need months of therapy (electroshock or otherwise) to adequately repress these things again.

I'm not sure how old I was. I know I was fairly young, but I can't put a specific age on the memory.

Here's what I do remember:

1) I wanted some grapes

2) my mother told me no

3) I really wanted some goddamned grapes

Yes, it is an incredibly vibrant detailed memory. I was a random age and I wanted some grapes. Truly, I have painted a mental scene for you.

It's like Lord of the Rings except with less Hobbits and more grapes.

I should also point out that I am going for the Guinness world record for most times using the word 'grape' in a blog post.

Grapes grapes grapes.

So, I'm a young child who desperately wants a bowl of grapes, but has been told he's not allowed to have grapes.

What do I do?

Do I:

a) accept defeat?

b) ask my mother to reconsider?

c) say screw it and get them myself?

Forget that shit. I was getting me some grapes.

Step 1 was get a bowl. The bowls were on a high shelf, so I had to get a chair and climb on top of the counter to get one.

I'm standing on the counter and reaching into the cabinet with the dishes.

Side note: my father had just recently purchased my mother an incredibly beautiful, incredibly expensive tea cup for her birthday.

It was also incredibly fragile.

This will be an important fact.

As I was reaching for the bowl, I remember thinking that I should watch out for the...

And then my elbow hit it.

For a sickening second, it hung in mid-air. It just sort of tilted and I had time to register that it had gone past the tipping point. Then, gravity took over.

Smash.

My mother had an entire cupboard of stupid, cheap mugs and tea cups. All worth about three and a half cents.

I knocked over the only one that was worth anything.

The only one she loved.

Now, you're probably thinking that it was all an accident, that there is no way a mother could get that angry over a simple tea cup, no matter how beautiful or special it was.

You'd be right. She was sad. She cried a little. But she didn't get that mad at me.

Here's the regret part: As she was knelt down cleaning up the shattered cup, tears still in her eyes, I looked at her and said

"I'm sorry."

Except instead of those words, it came out

"Can you get my some grapes?"

Yeah, that pretty much explains our relationship up to this point.

What? I was young.

And I really wanted some grapes.

[GM]Dave's Regrets - Vol. 2

2009-10-13T17:57:00.000-07:00

I really wish my FFXI career was without regret.

I really, really, REALLY wish that.

Unfortunately, if wishes were Utsusemi: Ni, we'd all be freaking Ninjas.

Now, I'm not talking the little regrets here. I'm not talking about that time I tried playing a female character. I'm not talking about the time I accidentally dropped a piece of armor instead of a stack of Earth crystals.

I'm not talking about the time I unlocked DRK.

Man, I really regret that one.

Do you know how hard it is to get off black nail polish?

... Neither do I.

Stop looking at me.

Anyway, fairly early in my FFXI life, long before I became the embodiment of an angry god's wrath, I was a Warrior.

What? You have to level something before you unlock Dragoon. I picked Warrior.

Then, while leveling Dragoon, I'd occasionally drift back to my Warrior just for a change of pace.

All of that jumping really takes it out of you.

Before I knew it, I had trudged my ass through the 50's and had finally hit level 59. As any Warrior at the time would know, this meant only one thing: I had to get a Haubergeon.

This wasn't a question. You hit level 59 as a Warrior and you went and got yourself a Haubergeon. It was as sure as having to take the next breath if you felt like keeping on living.

Plus, it looks Hella awesome.

Now, I could have just bought it off the AH like a regular person. I could have just ponied up the gil and had my Haubergeon. No fuss, no muss.

That's... That's not what I did.

Instead, I, for some reason, thought it would be a much better idea to have someone craft it for me and hope for a HQ.

Anyone who has ever had an item crafted has secretly held out hope for a HQ so they get a WAY more awesome item without spending any extra money.

Also, that white box is pretty sweet.

I should also point out that this thing was incredibly expensive at the time. We didn't have it easy like you kids these days. These things cost million upon millions of gil.

Now, you get them free in a box of cereal.

No, that freaking piece of armor was unbelievably expensive.

I am two things:

a) cheap

b) really cheap

Thus, getting it synthed for me seemed like a great idea.

At the time.

I pooled all of my resources, sold off some older armor, and just barely managed to scrape together enough gil for the materials. I then got the name of a really high level Smither that could synth the armor for me.

Again, this was before I became a GM and could have just made the items and/or money appear in my inventory.

Or the Haubergeon.

Or the Haubergeon +1.

It was also before I had started on the whole crafting thing. This, sadly, meant that I had to find someone else who could perform the synth for me.

This is where things started to go wrong. The guy just never logged on and I couldn't find anyone else willing to do the synth for me.

Things were looking bad.

One evening, a few friends asked me to help with a Shadowlord run. They were having trouble finding people and I was the closest thing they had to a tank.

After hours of prep work and organizing a small group, we set out for Xarcabard.

We made our way up through the castle and we were just outside the Throne Room when I had the sudden urge to check for the synther.

Can you guess what happened?

That's right. He was finally online.

I sent him a quick tell asking him to wait until we were done. I was all but begging him.

Just to prove that my bad luck isn't just a pattern, but is instead an absolute truth, he informed me that he only had about 15 minutes. And that he was going away for a week.

Do you know how like a week is for someone with ADD waiting to get new armor synthed?

I don't know either. I'd sit down and figure it out, BUT I HAVE ADD.

With no other options, I told my group that I had to warp back to town and get the synth done. I promised them I'd be back as soon as I could.

They were very understanding.

The fact that I was the tank and could just tell them to go F&%@ themselves played no part in their decision.

One quick warp later, I was trading the materials that had cost me pretty much everything I had to the crafter.

Then he started the synth.

Pretty shiny colors.

Pretty shiny colors.

And then a small explosion.

Huh. One would think an explosion would be counter-productive to the crafting process.

I must have been mistaken.

The crafter then informed me that I wasn't mistaken. Apparently, that explosion was what happens when everything you own goes kablooie.

If he had been crafting a firework for me, I would have been very happy.

As he had been synthing an INCREDIBLY expensive piece of armor that had cost pretty much EVERYTHING I had, I was much less happy.

I died a little on the inside.

You can think I'm being melodramatic, but if you've ever had this happen, you know how freaking serious I am here. It actually made me physically sick.

Now, you're probably thinking I regret getting the synth done.

You'd be correct.

That isn't the regret I'm writing about though.

After watching my entire accrued wealth go kablam, I wasn't in the mood to play anymore. I immediately logged out and tried valiantly not to puke.

And left my entire group at the zoneline of the mission they needed with no tank.

Yup. I was THAT guy.

I've done a lot of shit that only a serial killer could be proud of, but being that guy was worse than all of it.

You don't leave a group stranded like that. You just don't.

But I did.

Honestly, if someone in a group like that pulled that shit on me today, I'd feed him to Jormy so fast his computer would catch fire.

But one day, I was that guy.

Ugh. I could punch myself in the face just thinking about it.

Actually... I could punch the crafter in the face.

I should go find his name...

[GM]Dave's Regrets - Vol. 1

2009-10-12T18:07:00.000-07:00

I'm going to go way back here to one of the first things I remember ever feeling bad about.

Really, really bad.

The funny thing is I feel bad about a really terrible person.

It was grade seven. There was a girl in my class named Randina.

Yes, Randina.

No, I do not know what she did to her parents that made them hate her enough to give her such a retarded name.

What I do know is that Randina was a world class bitch. She was that girl in your class that you'd happily have pushed down a flight of stairs just to see if she bounced at the bottom.

I hated this girl and this was long before I started hating everybody.

Anyway, one day my best friend brings in a photo of me he had taken when we were hanging out. Apparently, that was not one of my better days and this photo was unbelievably embarrassing.

My junior high rep hung in the balance here, people.

As I was carefully placing the picture in my backpack for future destruction, Randina reached out, grabbed it, and ran off down the hallway laughing.

See? Total bitch.

I couldn't, just couldn't let that picture get around. This wasn't getting caught playing Pogs or something. This could be detrimental to my grade seven existence.

I started chasing her down the hall.

She was running pretty fast, but luckily, I was buzzed on a mix of recess pixie sticks, crystal Pepsi, and sudden fear.

I could have given the Flash a run for his money.

Seconds later, I was just a few feet behind her. All I had to do was reach out and grab her.

I stretched out my arm and firmly grasped her shoulder.

Correction: I stretched out my arm and attempted to firmly grasp her shoulder.

To this day, I remember grabbing her shoulder. I remember feeling her shoulder in my hand as I grasped.

Apparently, when you try to grab someone's shoulder when both of you are running, it is entirely possible to miss and grab a hold of their dress.

Only their dress.

You may or may not see where this is going.

Since I thought I had grabbed her in a sufficient manner to keep her from moving, I stopped running.

Since I was wrong, she continued running.

Her dress remained firmly in my hand.

It was kind of like that magic trick where the guy yanks a table cloth off a table, but instead of a table underneath, there was a screaming girl in her underwear.

TA-DAH!

So, to summarize, I have just chased down and then torn the clothes off of a girl because she took a picture I did not like.

In the middle of a school hallway.

If I did this today, I would probably have gotten shot in the face.

And what does a young man who has found himself in this situation do? Does he apologize profusely? Does he do his best to cover this poor, half-naked girl?

No.

He takes his picture and walks away.

I swear to God, I'm not making that up. I looked at that girl, screaming and crying, and I just took my picture and walked away.

Honestly, I still feel a little bad about not doing more (or anything) to comfort her. I could have at least acknowledged how horrible what I had done was.

Not me. I just took my picture back and left her to sort that shit out for herself.

In my defense, it was a really bad picture.

Alright, Already.

2009-10-10T18:19:00.000-07:00

I just got an e-mail from last month's top donator.

Apparently, she thought that when we agreed on her chosen topic for a theme week, that would mean I would start on it immediately.

This, as it turned out, would be incorrect.

I don't think I can describe in words just how bad I am at sticking to anything even remotely resembling a schedule. Perhaps it has something to do with my video game obsession or my drinking hobby.

Or those women in my house who insist on me actually spending time with them.

Some strange combination of elements in my life have left me with a wicked case of ADD.

This has an added benefit of incredibly pissing off anyone who actually expects you to do anything.

Just ask Susan.

Still, this kind, generous woman was gracious enough to donate, so I should probably get started on this thing.

Plus me posting this really gives me no more excuses.

I do so love my excuses.

Anyway, when I first contacted her, I explained the general process and asked her for a number of themes she'd like to read. That way, we could work through the list and pick something that would make us both happy.

She had no suggestions.

She had a demand.

Apparently, this poor, poor woman is under the misguided assumption that I have a soul. She thinks that deep, deep (deep, deep, deep) down, there must be some small shred of my humanity left.

There isn't. I've looked.

Still, she wants to hear a week of the things I regret the most. You know, the things I've done that I really feel bad about.

I laughed when I read that part.

There was, however, a time before dealing with the general public had turned my heart into a cold, black vortex of hate. Back in the before time, I was still capable of feeling empathy and remorse.

Thus, I agreed to humor her request and regale you with stories from my sordid past that I would sooner forget.

Starting Monday, I will try to explain the seven things that I really regret.

It'd be kind of like the seven worst things I've ever done, but I enjoyed most of those.

And then, At the end of the week, I will be sending out the new fan pack just filled to the brim with heartfelt emotion.

Or as reasonable a facsimile as I can make up.

As usual, anyone who donated $5 or more this month will receive this awesome fan pack with exclusive stories and articles and reviews and... other... stuff.

I used to include pictures I made, but the nice people at Photoshop sent me a cease and desist letter. Something about "crimes against sight and humanity."

Eh, whatever.

But wait! That's not all! The person who donates the most during the month gets to pick their very own theme for a week's worth of posts.

That's right. Seven days of whatever subject floats your boat.

Maybe you really enjoy hearing someone make snarky comments about video games.

I can do that.

Can you believe it?

Act now and you'll be done before someone else who didn't act now!

Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go and try to remember what a conscience feels like.

What The Hell Is Wrong With People?

2009-10-08T16:47:00.000-07:00

I live my life by a few very simple principles.

1) Everything is better with bacon

2) Every other car on the road is out to kill you

3) Never comment on a woman's weight/hair/clothing for any reason EVER

4) Seriously. Not EVER.

5) Don't complain about free stuff.

It's the last one that really gets me. I just don't understand how people can make such a big deal out of free stuff.

People bitched about how hard it was to get good weapons in FFXI. Oh, you've got to do a quest. Oh, you've got to find this ultra rare drop. Oh, you've got to kill an impossible NM.

I mean, all that only made sense considering these were some kick ass weapons. We can't exactly hand you a relic weapon when you log in.

NPC>> Hail, new adventurer. Welcome to Vana'diel.
NPC>> Here's your God weapon.

Still, players bitched about how hard it was to get these weapons.

Of course, they ignored my plan.

System Message: Go F&%@ Yourselves.

No, someone was kind enough to listen to these concerns and open up new ways to get great weapons.

Not me. Oh hell no. I would have told them to go F&%@ themselves.

That's how I solve most problems.

Or start most problems.

Whatever. It's problem-adjacent.

So, the kindly devs, ever thoughtful of the players' feelings, made new high level weapons that were easier to obtain. They even made several of them craftable so no real questing was required.

Hurray!

Then people started to complain about how expensive a lot of crafted weapons are. Materials were going up in price and the market was rising across the board.

Oh... Kay...

The devs, still mindful of players' feelings, created new quests and event that dropped new weapons into your lap. Hell, you even got to unlock new weaponskills.

Huzzah!

Then people started to complain that the quest and events were too hard.

Wait... I think I did this part already.

Oh, my mistake. People were just bitching about the same problem we'd already solved.

Silly me.

Now, there were entire categories of epic, high-level weaponry and armor readily available for anyone willing to either:

a) kill an NM
b) do a quest
c) do an event
d) get it crafted

And people still weren't happy.

What the sweet bacon Jesus?

Yet, the devs did not give up. The devs in their mysterious ways decided to make the process of obtaining near-Godlike impliments of destruction practically idiot-proof.

You get a cheap weapon.

I mean dirt cheap.

Actually, cheaper than dirt.

If you want to purchase a small amount of dirt, you would have to trade several of these weapons.

Then, you run anyone of several small events and a Fairy (I'm not making this up) will augment your weapon to make it even more awesome.

For free.

And if you don't like the augmentation, you can say no and retry up to five more times to get a better augmentation.

That's not all. After you accept an augmentation, you can go buy another cheapass weapon and redo the whole process to get an even better augmentation.

Seriously, this is some epic shit right here. The devs actually created a system where anyone that is even functionally retarded can still obtain one of the best weapons in the game.

And what did the players do?

You guessed it.

They complained.

Now, it was too easy to obtain great weapons and the other weapons that are still just as pointy as they were yesterday, just weren't as awesome anymore.

Honestly, I'm starting to wonder if I died and this is what hell is like for GMs.

My opinion is that we should put a new complaints button in the menu. You click it and then you watch your character get eaten by Jormy and then permabanned.

It would save me SO much time.

Finally Fantasy

2009-10-05T14:19:00.000-07:00

OH.

MY.

GOD.

They have FINALLY released the original NES version of Final Fantasy for the Wii Virtual Console.

You can go, right now, and download one of the greatest games ever made. And it's only 500 Wii points!

I'm not sure what that is in human money, but I'm very excited about it.

For the first time in 22 years, you can experience the magic, the majesty, the wonder of the game that gave birth to the greatest RPG franchise EVER.

The very first time.

Unless you still have the NES version.

Or an emulator.

Or you bought the Playstation 1 remake.

Or the PSP remake.

Or that Gameboy Advance remake with Final Fantasy I and II on it.

Is there a version for the iPhone yet? There's probably a version for the iPhone.

But if you, despite the overwhelming odds, somehow have not purchased one of these games, then this is the VERY first chance you've had to play it.

Otherwise, it's just a regular Monday.

You know, you COULD just go buy it again. That is an option.

I realize you probably own seventy odd versions of the game, but this is the first one that you can play on your Wii.

Unless you use homebrew. Then you probably have a NES emulator on your Wii.

Still, on the off chance that you don't either own one of those many, many, MANY versions AND you don't have homebrew on your Wii, this is totally awesome.

What are you waiting for? There's a console in your house that doesn't have Final Fantasy I on it.

Can you really live that way? Can you live like an animal?

Only an animal could live with only seventy versions of Final Fantasy I.

Seriously. You'd better hurry the hell up.

I don't care if you don't own a Wii. Go to the store and buy a Wii and then start reading this post from the beginning.

See? Now, there's a console in your house with no Final Fantasy I on it.

Get that Wii shop going and pay good money to buy a digital version of a game you probably own at least three physical copies of.

What? Makes sense to me.

When World's Collide

2009-10-03T14:12:00.000-07:00

Okay, I'm going to level with you here. I'm going to tell you the secret known only to GMs.

Being a GM is not the glamorous job you might think it is.

I know, I know. When you picture the GM offices, you probably think of a huge party, music blasting, and tons of celebrities hanging out.

Surprisingly, that's not actually what it's like.

We spend a great deal of our time just sitting around and waiting. There's not a hell of a lot to do between calls, so for a lot of our day is just getting paid for doing nothing. Either no one is making GM calls or we're too busy ignoring them to care.

Yes, I know my job is more awesome than yours.

No, you can't work here.

So, yesterday, we were sitting around playing a new game I invented called "make the intern answer the fish bot calls until he cries" when one of the guys starts to talk about video games.

Some people might think we were kind of obsessed with video games, but that's only because we are.

Anyway, the conversation eventually gets around to famous video game characters and what job class they'd be in FFXI.

That's some deep shit right there.

Ash Ketchum - Beastmaster, obviously

I mean, the kid catches animals for a living and then forces them to take part in vicious battles against other animals.

That's the definition of a Beastmaster.

Or Michael Vick.

Kirby - Blue Mage

The basic premise behind Kirby is that he can steal and use the powers of his enemies. Once he is exposed to an attacker, he can then use that attacker's abilities.

Blue Mages do the exact same thing.

The only difference is that Kirby does it by ingesting his enemies and absorbing their powers as they die slowly, being digested over a thousand years.

The devs decided to leave that particular animation out of the Blue Mage.

Mario - Dragoon

He jumps on things.

This isn't rocket science, people.

Link - Paladin

I kind of labored over this one. Theoretically, he could be a Warrior. He runs around stabbing things with a sword.

Also, vandalizing lawns and pottery.

But considering he carries a sword and a shield, I'd have to lean towards Link being a Paladin.

What bothers me is that he really doesn't have the best defense. His "armor" basically amounts to a green tunic he's been wearing for over a decade.

Also, his HP is somewhere around 4.

Basically, Link is a bitch Paladin.

Sonic - ... Thief?

I'm stretching here, but only because Sonic is a retarded character.

Yeah, sure. His older games were really good. There's no denying that.

That still doesn't change the fact that he's a blue hedgehog that spins in a circle and collects rings for no apparent reason.

He doesn't even have a weapon.

Still, the speed thing means he has flee. Therefore, Thief.

I didn't say I put a lot of thought into it.

Ironically, the amount of time he spends using Flee seems like a movement hack. If he were actually a player in FFXI, I'd have banned him long ago.

Go hang out with Tails, cheater.

Then... Then someone asked the inevitable question:

Guy>> What job would Cloud Strife be?

Cloud Strife - Take a shot in the dark.

He's skinny, effeminate, and is obviously emo.

He also has a penchant for giant swords.

Gee... I'm going to have to go with White Mage on that one.

As much as it pains me to say it, I'd have to say Cloud Strife was solidly in the Dark Knight column.

He runs around with incredibly large swords (that are totally not at all phallic) while looking sad and listening to Dashboard Confessional.

Until the devs create a new job called Cutter, I'm pretty sure we have to give Cloud to the DRK side.

See what I did there?

Honestly though, that really pisses me off. The DRKs get Cloud and who do the DRGs get from that game?

That's right. Cid.

Hey, we got the third string old guy.

Yay.

That's totally fair.

Even the Monks got Tifa. Yes, anatomically questionable Tifa was a MNK.

On the bright side, at least we didn't get stuck with that little bitch Yuffie. If Yuffie had been a Dragoon, I'd probably have to kill myself.

I pity the poor job that got stuck with her.

Suck it, Thieves.

Jesus. Thieves got stuck with Sonic and Yuffie. They're one wheelchair away from being a Special Olympics dream team.

We were busy trying to figure out what in the hell class we could put Barrett in when our supervisor came out of his office and told us to get to work or go the hell home for the day.

I hate being told what to do.

On the bright side, LONG WEEKEND! WOO!

Once More Into The Breach...

2009-09-30T19:07:00.000-07:00

Something big happened yesterday, something epic.

Nintendo decided they'd had enough of the homebrew shenanigans. They've heard about all the crazy hacker stuff that them darned internet kids have been up to and they decided to drop the hammer on that shit.

And this wasn't just messing around with the hackers like last time. See, last time, they just removed a small glitch that made it ever so slightly harder for new people to install homebrew programs. It didn't actually undo anything.

No, this time, their new update not only checked for homebrew files and erased them, it runs the check on every start up and erases them AGAIN.

Holy freaking shit.

They weren't screwing around with this one. Oh hell no, they meant serious business this time.

With one fell swoop, these hackers and their nefarious homebrew were forever wiped out. This entire update was meant for only one purpose: bringing an end to the age of homebrew.

Truly, the gauntlet has been thrown and I don't see how the wii homebrew scene could possibly ever recove...

What?

They ALREADY have a workaround for this?

Seriously?

Oh.

So...

Yeah, how've you been? How's the family?

What the hell was Nintendo thinking? I mean, I understand that they're not happy with the whole homebrew thing, but they're basically just pissing them off at this point.

This isn't a rival company. This isn't some guy across the street in an office building trying to figure out how he can make his own game business.

It is, quite literally, thousands of people with nothing better to do than poke holes in Nintendo's code.

Do you know how hard it is to write absolutely perfect code?

Neither do I, but I assume it is really difficult.

I assume that because they keep putting out system updates and games that have more holes than the plot of Lost.

While it is really difficult to write code without holes, it is pretty damned easy to find those holes and use them to do some seriously messed up shit.

Do you want your Wii to play DVDs? They can totally do that.

Yes, I know you already own like eighty seven things that can play DVDs. All the other systems play DVDs. Your toaster plays DVDs.

That's besides the point.

I'm not sure what the point is, but the point plays DVDs now.

So, yeah.

Okay, okay. I know that a few (read: A LOT) (read: MOST) (read: PRETTY MUCH EVERY F&%@ING PERSON ON THE PLANET) are using homebrew programs to run illegal back ups.

That's bad.

Unfortunately, there's really no conceivable way to stop people from doing this.

They're organized. They're focused.

They're lacking any other hobbies.

Other than playing games.

Illegally downloaded games.

These people live to find new and creative ways to use Nintendo code to do new and creative things.

This whole new system update thing came down like fire raining from the heavens. Homebrewers ran for cover, their entire world crumbling around them.

For like seventeen minutes.

Then, the guys behind the homebrew scene, the guys doing the seriously crazy things with Nintendo code, decided to break that shit down.

Most people guessed they'd have a viable workaround by the end of the week.

They were off by about three days.

Less than 48 hours went by and that shit was already solved.

Boom! Headshot!

I realize Nintendo was trying to send a message. They were trying to get a point across to these terrible hackers/pirates/people in need of one more DVD playing thing.

Apparently, that message was "We're going to temporarily inconvenience you. Probably."

That is not how you take on a hacker scene.

That is how you take on a group of British school children.

"Pip pip. Cheerio. Please stop that. Alright, since you will not stop, I will be forced to tell you to stop again."

Honestly, the best thing they could do at this point is to wave a goddamned white flag. Just throw that thing up there and pray the hackers don't make the flag play DVDs or something.

They're already as rich as F&%@. They should just let it go.

It's starting to get embarrassing.

WTF, Video Games?

2009-09-27T16:53:00.000-07:00

Tomorrow is my birthday.

As I turn one more year older, I think back over my life and one thought occurs to me...

What the F&%@ happened to my life?

I'm not saying I'm not happy with my life the way it is. Between my beautiful wife and beautiful daughter, things are pretty damned good.

Still, I feel I should have done more.

I know I'm not even old yet, but years of video games have taught me that I'm starting to fall behind.

According to video games, I should have already:

a) become a Pokemon master

b) undergone extensive military training

c) broken into and robbed countless houses

d) saved the entire world from unmitigated evil like seventeen times

I have done... Well, none of those things.

Hell, I don't even know how to turn myself into a ball and navigate my way through alien space installations.

What the hell have I been doing with my time?

Yeah, yeah. Drinking.

Why do people keep bringing that up?

What's really left for me now?

I suppose I still have my Mario years ahead of me. I can become a plumber and save a kidnapping-prone princess from the retarded offspring of a turtle and a dragon.

There's still time for that.

Plus, I get to grow an awesome mustache.

Oh, I can save the world from terrorists using giant robots.

All I need is a cardboard box and a pack of cigarettes.

Also, a headband.

Bitches love the headband.

You know, I just re-read this entire post and I just now realized my future life goals are to grow a mustache and buy a headband.

Reach for the stars, kids.

A Conundrum

2009-09-25T20:05:00.000-07:00

I find myself in a philosophical predicament.

Is Megan Fox really hot?

Now, the red-blooded male in me says "What the F&%@ is wrong with you? Of course, she's hot, you moron!"

Incidentally, the red-blooded male in me is a bit of a dick.

Looking at her, you'd have to be retarded not to see that she is at least physically attractive. She's one of the main reasons why most men (and possibly women) went to see Transformers.

But is that enough?

See, as much as the girl is nice to look at, the geek in me is saying "She's as dumb as a box of hair. Seriously, her IQ is probably -7."

I realize we're not hiring as a UN ambassador or anything, but there has to be a line somewhere. We have to have some limit on exactly where you'd be willing to put your penis.

I probably wouldn't even care if half the news posts on Digg and Reddit didn't have something to do with the latest patently retarded thing to come out of this girl's mouth.

She compared Michael Bay to Hitler.

I'm not even kidding.

My knowledge of history is admittedly lacking, but I don't recall Hitler making over the top, barely sensible action flicks that replace any thread of plot with explosions.

And I assume I might have read about it if Michael Bay tried to annihilate an entire race of people.

How am I supposed to respect this person in any way?

I don't really care if everyone thinks she's the hottest woman in the universe. I need a woman to at least have an IQ higher than her shoe size.

That isn't asking too much, is it?

Is it really?

There are tons, literally tons, of incredibly hot, SMART women out there. Why aren't we giving them any attention?

Can we at least get Megan Fox a tutor or a library card or something?

I don't ask for a lot out of the human race. Basically, dfon't kill me when I'm on the freeway and don't talk to me unless you have to.

That's not a lot to ask for.

But can we maybe get over the whole Megan Fox thing and find someone else to obsess over. At least, someone with an intelligence that doesn't rival that of a grilled cheese sandwich?

I'm glad we had this talk.

Just Good Parenting

2009-09-22T17:16:00.000-07:00

Thinking about the citizens of Vana'diel and their strange little lives put me in a very weird place the past few days. Suddenly, I found myself wondering about the lives of other video game characters.

This struck me as funny because I don't really care about the lives of actual people.

I hate people, but I've spent two days thinking about Mario's daily routine.

That's messed up.

Does Mario ever get freaking sick of jumping on obviously retarded turtles?

Does Master Chief watch movies like Starship Troopers and laugh his ass off?

Why doesn't Mega Man just shoot Wiley in the face already?

Of all the game worlds that I spent time thinking about, there was one that seemed more messed up than any other, one world that is really, REALLY scary if you think about it.

That's right. Pokemon.

What the sweet bacon Jesus hell is wrong with that world?

You're nine.

Everything is perfectly normal in your life. You're a regular fifth grader, doing the whole school thing. Math isn't your best subject, but you're not failing. And you're starting to wonder if you might like that girl that sits in front of you.

Then you turn ten.

Suddenly, for no explicable reason, your parents kick you out of your house and expect you to roam the countryside completely uncared for.

Here's a backpack and a mutated woodland creature.

Get the F&%@ out.

Does no one see a problem with this? Seriously?

I'm all for fostering independence in children, but I think there's a line between independence and sending your child to die in the woods.

It's not even like this is a normal world either. In the regular world, a child would only have to deal with the elements.

No, this world has forests teeming with animals that breathe fire and spit lightning. It is a regular occurrence to encounter an animal entirely capable of murdering and dismembering a small child.

It happens about every five to ten steps.

Sure, sometimes you run into a mentally handicapped caterpillar or fish or something, but quite frequently, it's some Godless monster with razor sharp teeth and claws.

Get him, Squirtle!

Oh, and let's not forget the marauding bands of criminals, terrorists, and rather obvious child molesters roaming through the woods.

As if you never thought about it before.

I'm sure they'll all be bumbling morons who only fail to thoroughly torture or murder your child because they are too freaking stupid to actually get shit done.

Yes, let's put all of our hopes in the complete incompetence of the people trying to kill your kid.

Good job.

Don't worry though. I mean you gave your child everything they would need, right? They've got their own blood-thirsty monster.

Pictured: Blood-thirsty Monster

Or functionally retarded ninja turtle

And a backpack.

And...

...

Did you remember to pack any food for the kid? A change of clothes? Water?

Of course not.

That's a sweet freaking backpack though.

Not to worry. I'm sure everything will work out. I mean, your kid is setting out to become the world's best Pokemon master.

Just like every other kid their age.

This is dozens and dozens of children leaving their homes every other week, setting out to become the best.

They can all be the best, right?

It's funny. Remembering all of the Pokemon games and how every city had it's own little theme, I don't remember a town made from the skulls of all the children sent out to die alone in the wilderness.

Maybe it'll be in those new Gold and Silver remakes. Right outside Pallet Town or where the hell ever, you'll find Skull Town.

Or Rotting Corpse Town.

Or Huge Pile of Dead Children Town.

Actually, maybe that's where all of those freaking ghost Pokemon come from. Those Ghastlies and Gengars aren't mystical. They're the obvious and easily predicted result of SENDING YOUR KIDS OUT INTO THE WOODS TO DIE.

Christ. I know this is a game, people, but this is some seriously messed up shit right here.

Luckily, the Google image search did help to clear up one of the most troubling parts of the whole Pokemon story.

Mind = Blown

I don't know about you, but that's a weight off my mind.

Vana'diel Career Day

2009-09-20T18:31:00.000-07:00

I was sitting down today, thinking one of my deep thoughts.

What? I do enjoy philosophy, you know. I'm not all about the video games.

And you think you know me.

So, I was thinking about FFXI and about how everyone ends up an adventurer. Every single person who logs in ends up as a hero bringing justice and peace to Vana'diel.

Really? Everybody?

I don't want to question the realism of the game, but what the hell? Are you really telling me that EVERYONE gets to be an adventurer?

You'd think someone would have to log in and end up as a janitor.

Or a bus driver.

I mean, I'm all for people having a good time, but somebody's got to pick up the trash.

Can you imagine the amount of garbage left around Vana'diel? Monster corpses and noob corpses, broken synths and dropped items.

Geez, the Sushi wrappers alone would flood the streets.

Shouldn't some people get to log in and roll up a nice janitor character?

Maybe there are players with REALLY low standards. Maybe all of that running around and adventuring looks like too much work.

Even if they don't want to, shouldn't we MAKE some of them?

I'm just saying that not everyone gets to be a special, unique snowflake.

Not everyone gets to be a doctor or a lawyer or a quarterback. Somebody has to get stuck with the really shitty jobs in life.

Why should an MMORPG be any different?

You log in and get your retarded ass a broom.

And what about the NPCs? What does it tell the children of Vana'diel that everybody gets to grow up to be a famous adventurer?

Kind of setting them up for disappointment, isn't it?

See, the thing is everybody gets to grow up and be a famous adventurer EXCEPT THEM.

Somebody has to mind the Chocobo stables or those fruit stands in every city.

What the hell was wrong with those people that they didn't get to be adventurers? We have functionally retarded players everywhere that get to go out and kick monster ass. What f&%@ing remedial class were these people in?

Oh, Billy, you colored outside the lines. Hope you like shoveling chocobo shit for the rest of your life.

Speaking of kids, why don't we see more kids around Vana'diel?

Yeah, yeah. We got the retarded kids who run up and down the same street day after day. We all know about those guys.

But where are the regular kids?

This is a world full of weapons and magic. You can literally make fire appear out of nothing and use it to light small woodland creatures ablaze.

If this game was realistic, West Ronfaure would be filled with children lighting bunnies on fire.

You'd assume they'd have some pent up rage to get out what with finding out they were destined to be selling distilled water for the next fifty or sixty years, while players who can barely string a sentence together get to save the world from unstoppable evil.

Tell me you wouldn't light a goddamned bunny on fire.

Honestly, I don't now what's worse: the fact that an entire world's native people are stuck acting as or menial servants while we run roughshod over their land...

Or the fact that I spent more than an hour thinking about that today.

And where I could find a bunny and some lighter fluid.

... Don't judge me.

Enough Already...

2009-09-18T20:31:00.000-07:00

We get it, okay? Somebody said something funny and now it's popular.

We all freaking get it.

Do you know what's not funny? When people use the same freaking phrase over and over AND OVER until you just want to scream and shoot someone in their stupid face.

Okay... Kind of went to the dark place there for a second.

Apparently, and you probably haven't heard of this as the news media has been very restrained about the matter, Kanye West was kind of a jerk to Taylor Swift.

You've heard about it? What are the chances?

Maybe it has something to do with the whole world going FREAKING INSANE OVER IT!

Kanye West was a dick. This isn't exactly news.

And yes, he made the poor little girl cry. Boo freaking hoo.

That does not mean every other sentence has to include the words "Yo, I'mma let you finish, but..."

If you're somehow not familiar with these words (you lucky, lucky person), feel free to Google it. You'll find around seventeen bajillion pages and videos and quotes.

And pictures.

Oh, Lord, the pictures.

I will admit, some of them are funny.

SOME.

But I think it's time we let it go.

Now, don't get me wrong here. I love to beat a stupid joke to death.

Still, I think we've managed to hit a dangerous level of saturation here. We went from no Kanye to all Kanye WAY too fast.

Seriously, when was the last time you heard anything about Kanye West? Yeah, he had that song that time that you kind of remember, but don't know the words of.

And now he's everywhere.

What the hell, internet?

We had a good thing going. We had cats with speech impediments and/or playing keyboards. We had fat guys singing Numa Numa or going Nom Nom Nom.

We had Chuck Norris.

Now... Now, we have a third rate singer with a speech that just barely made sense.

We used to be better than that. We used to have some dignity.

C'mon, people. I'm trying to preserve our cultural identity here.

Also, if one more moron starts a GM call with "Yo, I'mma let you finish...", I am going to have to kill people.

Lots of them.

I'm just saying.

It's Official

2009-09-15T16:09:00.001-07:00

SAM > THF

I'm just saying.

Seriously, Nintendo?

2009-09-14T16:26:00.000-07:00

I'm actually starting to wonder what the hell is up with Nintendo.

After the whole Mario e-mail incident, I thought Nintendo was done surprising me.

I've been giving them the benefit of the doubt. Maybe, just maybe, they knew something we all didn't.

Given the fact that they are rich as F&%@ right now, this could be a possibility. They must have some knowledge of gaming and popular culture.

Still, they did decide to develop a less powerful system. They did decide to focus more on kid and family-friendly games rather than the hardcore playerbase. They did decide to use a quirky motion control remote system.

Hell, they changed the name from "Revolution" to "Wii".

One starts to wonder if Nintendo actually does have its finger on the pulse of our community or if they're just making this shit up as they go.

Especially the name "Wii". It's hard to get past the fact that they would name their console to sound like a guy's wang.

Maybe "Wang" was already trademarked.

Also, the phallic shaped controller leans toward the "what the f&%@ are these people doing" side of the argument.

So, you're shaking your plastic penis at your Wii.

Yeah.

Maybe all of this shit just got past the approval committee. Maybe they've never actually been on or near the internet, so they weren't aware how readily our people can point out such things.

After all that happened though, they must have put someone in charge of checking these things out. They had to have hired someone to go through game titles being released for their console to look out for this stuff.

Even the third party shit. They'd have to be freaking insane not to be watching like hawks for more obscure sexual references.

Seriously, Nintendo? Seriously?

What the hell?

Maybe we should get somebody on this. You know, pay a guy to sit at a desk and read game titles looking for shit like "Money Shot" or "Meat Whistle".

Christ, it's like I'm the only sane person left on the planet.

Old Gray Man...

2009-09-12T19:01:00.000-07:00

What's happening to me?

I remember just a few years ago, I could stay up all night. I'd play games from sun down until sun up and it wouldn't phase me in the slightest.

I could go from an all-night gaming session straight to class and not even blink.

Not any more.

Thing is, I'm not even old or anything. Yeah, I'm not 20 any more, but I'm still in my twenties.

Hell, I should be up until 5 am baying at the moon.

I honestly have no idea what that means, but I should be doing it.

Instead, as soon as the clock hits midnight, I start going narcoleptic. My eyes start to drift closed whenever I sit still for more than a minute.

This may or may not have something to do with the huge sleep deficit I've built up over the years. By my calculations, if the average person sleeps 8 hours a night, I owe roughly three years of sleep.

That's a big freaking deficit, let me tell you. Especially when you're paying it back in twenty second blackouts while you're trying to eat your cereal.

The worst is playing FFXI late at night. If I'm not totally rested, there's a pretty good chance I will pass out while playing.

Back when I first started playing, staying up late was nothing. I'd hunt NMs or run through quests until light started to creep over the horizon.

I even joined a late night Dynamis LS. We'd run Xarcabard until 3 am and I'd be there until the last mob fell.

Or until the White Mages could raise everybody.

But now... Now, I'm pretty much dead weight after 1 am.

I'd blame getting older, but I'm guessing part of the blame may belong to the tiny human I live with that insists on waking up with the sun every morning.

EVERY.

MORNING.

She's like a cute little alarm clock.

Possessed by Satan.

The only extra sleep I get is the very few blessed mornings that Susan lets me sleep in.

Ironically, I usually stay up even later the night before because I know I can sleep in.

Basically, I'm seeing just how far I can run this body into the ground before it just stops functioning. I'll be walking down the street one day and my eyes will suddenly go all Blue Screen of Death.

All so I can spend so many hours playing video games. All so I can rescue princesses and kill the evil bosses, save the world and destroy ultimate evil.

Now, any sensible person would tell me that is REALLY stupid. They'd say that they're just games and totally not worth losing sleep over.

I'm pretty sure we've established that I'm not sensible.

Sure, I could put away the games and sleep more. I could log out at 10 o'clock and get a good night's sleep. I could wake up renewed and refreshed.

But why would I do that?

I have lived countless lifetimes in these games. I have seen kingdoms rise and fall, eras begin and end.

I have killed the ultimate evil, the Shadow Lord himself.

37 times at last count.

So, I'm sleepy all the time. So, I drift off while driving.

So what?

It's a small price to pay for the countless lifetimes and countless lives I've lived.

Sleep is great.

Gaming is better.

Work In Progress...

2009-09-08T19:07:00.000-07:00

Alright, folks. You know the drill.

Theme week is over, so I'm spending the night working on the fan pack.

In between pop windows.

What? Where do you think I get time to camp NMs and shit?

Anyway, the first part should be ready tomorrow. All of you who donated should wait anxiously at your inbox.

Starting... NOW!

7 Deadly Sins of Gaming - Sin 7

2009-09-07T17:07:00.000-07:00

Sin 7: Voice Acting

Oh.

Dear.

God.

This is, without a doubt, the absolutely worst, most terrible sin committed by game designers.

Not including Superman 64, of course.

Obviously, in any game involving dialogue, voice acting is going to be superior to text. Anyone would prefer to hear actual dialogue rather than reading cold, dead letters.

Until the exact moment they actually hear voice acting.

The quality of voice acting in games ranges somewhere between horrible and makes you wish you were deaf.

I'm not sure if I misspelled that last word.

I really don't understand what the problem is. I would really assume that whoever is involved with recording the voice actors is able to hear them.

That would probably be helpful to the job.

And yet, the fact that they could hear these horrendous mockeries of human speech and still press them to discs and charge people money for them suggests that they are all very, very deaf.

Not just regular deaf. Like... SUPER deaf.

I don't know what that means, but even a regular deaf person would be able to hear just how freaking terrible these voices are.

Where exactly do they find these voice actors anyway?

Wanted: voice actor for video game work. Must have references and be completely unable to express appropriate emotion. Being a robot considered a plus.

I'm not asking for Sean Connery doing Shakespeare or anything, but at least get someone who can attach inflections and emotions that suit the dialogue being recorded.

No, instead, we end up with people who not only can't express emotion, but may not even understand the emotions they're trying to express.

They have the acting range of a piece of driftwood.

Bad driftwood.

The driftwood that all of the other driftwood makes fun of.

And these are the people that are trying to create atmosphere and substance in our games, the people that we are supposed to immerse ourselves in.

Not bloody likely.

It's kind of hard to get into a game when every other minute is ruined by inane and annoying voice acting.

Hey, it's a cutscene explaining an incredibly important plot point that ties together the whole game.

And I'm here trying to figure out if the main character is being voiced by that kid from Saved by the Bell: The New Class.

Not pictured: People with future careers

Yeah... Total immersion there, folks.

I don't think there's any one of us, any gamer, that has not played a game involving voice acting and not wanted to bring those responsible to justice.

Hell, anyone who ever played FFX.

Or FFX-2.

I love me some Final Fantasy (Who knew?), but damn. That game could make someone take a power drill to their ear.

And Stella Deus... If you've never played the game, go buy a PS2, find a copy, and then take a few hours to play.

You may also want to buy a hammer to smash the PS2 when you're done.

That MAY get the memory out of your brain.

If not, Home Depot is having a sale on power drills.

Honestly, I think there should be federal punishments for people who put out games with terrible voice acting. Severe criminal penalties for anyone involved with ruining good games.

The actors should be shot before they can act again.

Imagine the fake, tone dead screams.

And the people who made the games... Oh, there's only one punishment that would fit the crime.

They should have to play their own games. Over and over and over.

Wait... That's too cruel. Even for me.

Yeah, we'll just shoot those guys, too.

Even I'm not that evil.

7 Deadly Sins of Gaming - Sin 6

2009-09-06T20:40:00.000-07:00

Sin 6: Shovelware

Now, before you think I'm about to pick on the Wii here, let's get one thing straight: every system has a heaping helping of shovelware.

Have you ever seen the bargain bin at a Walmart?

Okay... so the Wii has the majority of the shovelware. Probably more than twice that of the other systems.

It's just a side effect of its popularity.

Making good games is hard. It takes time and energy. It takes a careful understanding of what an audience really wants and the desire to create it.

Unfortunately, this also costs money.

Making bad games is easy. Throw a mediocre control scheme at a tired or pointless story and bing bang boom, you got a bad game.

It takes extremely little effort and yet, bad games often sell for the same price as a good game.

Yeah, once we figure out it's crap, that game is on a one way trip to the discount bin, but for a brief, glorious time, that game makes some serious coin.

Little effort + generous return = good idea

Right?

From a business standpoint, I get it. They're making games that are easily cranked out and yet still sell.

This is the definition of a practical business plan.

Unfortunately, it produces a glut of useless, terrible games that no one in their right mind could say are worth playing. These are the games that only sell when your Aunt Edna, who has no idea what a gamestation 380 is, decides to be cool and buy you game for your birthday.

Damn you, Aunt Edna.

Now, shovelware shouldn't be held against a system. Saying a system is bad because of a huge amount of terrible games doesn't make sense.

It should be held against the game companies.

There is no way most of these games could go through the development process and someone not point out that they're basically producing digital shit.

I would.

You would.

Someone in that company had to.

Someone had to point out that they're doing a huge disservice to both their consumers and their profession. Someone had to point out that they are the dregs of gaming society, a blight on our community.

And when they fired that guy, someone may have pointed out that they'd make more money if they made better games.

Not great games, mind you. I'm not saying they should be creating epic works of art or anything.

Just make games that don't make people want to jam their fingers into their brains and swirl them around.

I don't think that's asking too much. I really don't.

Here's a little system that I invented. I call it Reactive Quality Control.

Someone at the game company has to play their product. If that person:

a) becomes terrifyingly angry
b) becomes violently sick
c) threatens to destroy all of humanity
d) dies

Then you don't release that game.

Crap. Billy died. Back to the drawing board, people.

Then you start over with the next game you make. Not only will this increase product quality and decrease shovelware, but it provides a steady supply of jobs as previous testers just die.

It's like a make work program, but with more spontaneous death.

The worst that could possibly happen is that every single person at one of those companies could end up dead.

Still, it'd solve the shovelware problem.

Oh, well. You can't make an omelette without killing hundreds of people.

Since none of those people are me, I'm actually okay with it.

Isn't that funny how that works?

7 Deadly Sins of Gaming - Sin 5

2009-09-05T21:15:00.000-07:00

Sin 5: Exclusivity

Exclusivity, the practice of a game franchise being exclusive to a specific console, is a lot of things. It is a sound business plan, a means of increasing console sales, and a way of associating newer consoles with major titles.

Sounds great, right?

Unfortunately, the one thing exclusivity is not is good for gamers.

Basically, and I don't want to overstate my point here, exclusive titles are game companies' way of screwing us in the ass as consumers.

See, no matter what console you purchase, each of the other two major consoles is going to have exclusive titles. Microsoft has Halo. Playstation has Resistance.

Nintendo has all the Marios forever.

But what function could this really serve?

It's not doing anything for us. It does not present a new value, but instead creates a system that centers around us not getting to play many games.

That just sucks.

Sure, these are business decisions and all, but really, shouldn't someone think of the consumer?

ie, Me.

Like most people on the planet, I just can't afford to have every single game system on the market. It's just not financially feasible.

Especially since my daughter will just not go without food.

This perfectly normal situation, however, means that I will have to go without playing several major titles this year.

What the hell?!

So, I'm stuck either shelling out for the other system OR missing out on what could be the defining game of the decade.

And, to top it all off, the entire idea is counter-intuitive. Somehow, these companies decide they will make more money by selling games to a smaller group of people.

How does that even make sense? They're going to make more money by selling less games?

How is that even going to work?

Theoretically, they stand to make more money by broadening their scope to include all consoles.

Ever see those freaking Disney games that come out for every single console ever made? I'm pretty sure there's a version of The Incredibles that will run on a toaster.

That's how you make money while also not alienating gamers.

Sure, it's shallow and completely self-serving, but at least we get to play the game no matter what system we have.

But no. The big guys constantly throw their exclusive title in our faces, big letters printed on the case just to turn the blade a little more.

Oh, you don't have an Xbox 360? No Halo games for you.

Not because they wouldn't be awesome on a PS3 or even a Wii, but because the game designer totally pinky promised that you'd be the only one allowed to sell it.

And the whole thing just screws us over.

Yeah, occasionally our system of choice gets its own exclusive title and we feel all happy about it.

Still, there being three major consoles on the market, you basically have a 67% chance of being dicked over.

So, the entire concept of exclusivity revolves around limiting your potential market, insulting your potential market, and then abusing your potential market.

Good job, guys. Way to think outside the box.

7 Deadly Sins of Gaming - Sin 4

2009-09-04T20:30:00.000-07:00

Sin 4: DLMFC

I'm going to kind of bite the hand that feeds me here, but I HATE DLMFC.

DLC stands for downloadable content.

The M stands for the word 'mother' and the F stands for something you shouldn't theoretically do with your mother.

I'd hope.

DLC is the hip new thing in the world of gaming. Basically, they sell you most of a game for full price and then charge you EXTRA money to get the rest of the game.

I realize that sounds entirely insane.

That's because it is entirely insane.

Yes, yes. You can play the game without buying the DLC. No one is forcing you to buy the DLC. No one has a gun to your head saying "You're gonna buy some DLC."

Actually, I'm sure if they could figure out how to do that, they would.

And then they'd charge you for the service.

I wouldn't mind so much if the original game were cheaper and then you could opt to purchase DLC to bring you to a full price point. If there's twenty dollars worth of DLC, the game should be twenty dollars cheaper.

Can you imagine buying a car only to find out the seat and headlights were optional?

Sure, if it's months or even years later AND they're providing a new experience and not just a slight addendum to the game you already purchased, then I can accept that.

Grudgingly, but still.

But games today have DLC on day 1. Game hits stores and they're already asking you to spend another twenty bucks.

It took one creative/sadistic motherf&%@er to come up with that shit.

I know that they're just trying to find ways to make more money. Given the high level of competition in the video game market, game companies have to find a way to pad the bottom line.

And they do have to struggle with a sort of glass ceiling when it comes to game pricing.

Unfortunately, the reason that glass ceiling exists is that they're already charging the highest amount any reasonable or non-reasonable person might spend on a single game.

Now, they smash your head on that glass ceiling and then charge you more money to clean up the mess.

What the hell is that all about?

If you're already charging an arbitrarily chosen maximum price for a game, it is downright ludicrous to THEN charge more money for the rest of the product.

Even if you can play the game without the DLC, they're basically telling you that you need to spend more money to have a complete game.

Yeah, completely optional stuff like gold horse armor you can go without, but they're still slapping you in the face saying you have an incomplete copy.

Am I the only person on the planet who thinks this is some seriously f&%@ed up shit?

Make a game. Put game on disc. Put ENTIRE game on disc. Look around for some more stuff to put on disc. Put disc in case and sell for one price.

Is that so FREAKING HARD?!

I'm not asking you to make games cheaper.

By the way... Make games cheaper, already.

All I'm asking is that when I buy a game, I get the entire game. I don't want to buy cards or points or tokens or whatever other freaking bullshit you're making up right now.

Give me the game, the extra characters, and the new hat.

For no extra money.

None.

None at all.

I shouldn't even need a wifi connection for my console unless I feel like having a twelve year old gangsta wannabe question my sexuality because I just beat him.

That's what wifi was intended for.

Now, if you want to give me free stuff for my game, that's cool. I'm totally cool with that.

Hey, a free hat. Sweet.

But telling me I just bought a game, a game that has an opportunity to wear a hat, a game with hat wearing potential, and then asking me to pay for the hat?

So not cool.

What happened, man? You guys used to be cool.

Now, it's all about the hat money.

You sicken me.