Thursday, March 18, 2010

Check Out My Level 48 Dark Elf Paladin!!!

Sorry to everyone, the title was meant as bait for nerds and geeks. Sorry to nerds and geeks, we all know that Dark Elves could never be Paladins.
Now that I have you here, what if I told you that I could explain a mysterious concept in such a simple way that it would blow the magic seals off of our...heh heh, I mean your, fantasy world? That concept is love.
Your minds are geared for learning the sciences, advanced languages like Klingon, debating the possibilities of time travel, and the ethics of two superhero universes colliding. The best descriptions of love that you've ever heard is:

Q: What is love?
A: It's just everything and more.

Q: How do you know you're in love?
A: It just hits you one day and you know, you just know.

Not very informative right? If I can put this confusing conundrum on a level that you can understand, we'll start seeing Chess Club presidents taking head cheerleaders to the prom. We'll see mega-babes at the comic book store buying the latest JLA for their boyfriend, just 'cuz (if you don't consider yourself a nerd but know what JLA means...maybe you should reconsider). We'll see... gasp! dare I say it? dare I even imagine such a thing? we'll see girls shopping at Nordstrom on weekdays acting as Dungeon Master on weekends!! Put your tongues back in your mouths, geeks. I don't know if you can even understand what I'm about to teach you yet. So let's get right to it!

Lesson 1: For every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction.

Newton had it right. Want to know if a girl is into you? What do you do when you have a crushy-crush? Just because boys are boys and girls are girls doesn't mean that we act terribly different in similar situations. Let's say that girl you've had your eye on as much as that Gandalf staff down at the sword shop asked you out for Saturday (hypothetically), BUT, your questing party has an adventure that night. Are you going to say "sorry I can't make it?" Are you even going to make any mention that it might not be possible? Of course not! You'd say yes (without hesitating) and then figure out how to break your plans with your guild. No amount of ogre slaying, even with an ogre-slaying dagger that has +9 damage against ogres, is going to keep you from going on that date. So what I'm saying is if you drink so much Red Bull that you find your inhibitions disappearing, ask someone on a date and pay attention to how they react. Maybe she really did promise her sister two weeks ago that she would hang out the same night you wanted to see Avatar with her, but if she's letting you know about it... she's not as into you as you are into her. May the force be with you!!

Monday, March 8, 2010

Road Respect

Dear Bikes,

You are wondrous inventions with a still untapped potential. Your seemingly endless possibility for functional design and aesthetic styling will never cease to amaze us. Even your spandex-clad riders command an unquestioned respect in the fitness world. It is after great contemplation and with heavy heart that we make a simple request: if there is enough room on the road to be a bike, please be a bike. You are not a car. You will never be a car so stay out of my way. Cars have engines. Cars have power. It is sexy to pick up your date in a nice car. It is not sexy to ride a bike to your date unless you are 14 and have pegs so she can stand on them. Listen Bikes, I don't want to get into this right now. Bottom line, please quit riding 20 mph where I'm supposed to be driving 45, and I'll stay out of the bike lane.

All the best,
Me and my Mazda 3.

Saturday, November 28, 2009

My brains, my brains...

The power went out last week for a little bit. I know, no big deal right? I'm not afraid of the dark. Except that it was right in the middle of my attempt to overcome my fear of zombies. I was absolutely terrified because I realized that even though I've made a lot of progress toward being able to laugh hysterically at the undead (a.k.a. the living impaired, I don't know if they're protected by the Constitution to be able to sue for political incorrectness so I better play it safe) I'm still going to be a blubbering baby when the zombie apocalypse happens.
"Waaaah! But I don't want to see wrinkly Uncle Gerald again! He was scary when he was alive!"
Tough luck Timmy, he's 3-feet up from 6 already and yours is the first house he's looking to score some brains at! Hey Timmy's mom, are you still proud of your honor student and his big head?
I'm not that worried about global warming anymore. Don't write this off as some conspiracy theory, it's just the next most likely and completely original catastrophe to take place.
For the longest time I thought survival would be as easy as point and shoot but I've noticed some startling signs that indicate I won't last long. First of all my family doesn't own guns. We just don't like them. We have plenty of food and water saved up so step one to evading the hordes is to get some guns and ammo! That means I (it's my manly duty) have to make the trek to our local Wal-Mart armed with one of my precious guitars and the will to crack some skulls (thanks for the tip Left 4 Dead 2!!) before we can even board up the house! Why not go to the gun store which is much closer? Because all the good guns with the fancy gadgets and doo-dads that won't break from faulty construction will have already been taken by the redneck population. Not fair, I know. They already have enough weaponry to warrant another amendment guaranteeing the right to bear that many arms, but a reason to loot is a reason to loot. Knowing my luck if I actually do make it to Wal-Mart there will be one living employee who insists to help me (hooray for customer service) and when I tell him that I'm looking for firearms he'll take me to the Nerf section. Yay. Foam darts.
I even thought I could rely on my Mexican cousins, some of them could be cholos with low-riders and trunks full of pistols. But just like the movies, they'd be the last ones to believe in the impending crisis and the first ones to be zombified.
On my way back to save my family is when I'll hit the wall 'o' zombies. That's when it always happens, on the way back. Shooting games have taught me to aim for red barrels for large explosions and maximum points. On a recent gentleman's stroll between my house and Wal-Mart I counted a total of zero red barrels. Zero barrels of any color for that matter, so I took out a small loan and purchased a sizable number of 50-gallon drums, Super-duper-uber-premium gasoline (with Techron), and red paint. It took some hard work but I got a pretty sweet row of crimson death barrels (undeath barrels?) lined up. My escape route was guaranteed safe for about a week until every school and business for a mile south of me began reporting possible bomb threats. Excuse me for saving the world one street at a time!
After many failed attempts and thought experiments, I came to the conclusion that I will not survive Z-Day (zombie D-Day for all those who aren't on the same page as me). Too bad, so sad. Hopefully the city council will approve my petition for placing tarps on the ground in all the cemeteries. That should buy us some time.

Thursday, February 5, 2009

Discoveries...a new world!

I like to think I've lived a very epic life. Sure I'm no George Washington but come on, I'm going to be one of those people that History will look back on and say,"Well, he didn't completely destroy everything I worked hard to establish." Why don't we look back, back in time and see what things I have done in my life to merit an entrance into some obscure reference book that will sit on a library shelf until the end of time.
I invented Street Fighter G.I. Joes. When I was a kid my cousin and I were way into Street Fighter (who wasn't and still isn't?) and G.I. Joe (the movie is going to kick so much trash, they should release a Barbie movie at the same time so it can be killed in the box office). So I had the great idea that they should make Street Fighter action figures like G.I. Joes! Only, I didn't notice the corporate spy lurking in the bushes ready to steal a 10 year old's idea! Who made millions? I didn't. It was my idea and I was going to tell the toy company. Imagine my dismay, nay, outrage at discovering that someone had pilfered my ideas! Curses!
Next time you hear someone say, "Oh snap!" Think of me, not because I told you to, but because you know the person that coined the phrase. In junior high, before the phrase was ever used I was walking up a set of steps thinking about something cool no doubt when my lack of attention caused me to trip and nearly bang my shin! "Oh snap" I exclaimed. Then I thought to myself,"Snap? Who says that? Lame." But someone was listening. I don't know who. My theory is that whoever overheard my faux pas sent word back east of this new phrase. So it seems like the cool kids in New York were saying it first but no, it was me.
I'm pretty sure I would have invented MTV if given the chance. Potato chips? I hate ruffles so guess what, my new life goal is to flatten every crinkly chip I find.
Cotton gin? That was me. But I know you're saying,"Now didn't Eli Whitney actually invent the cotton gin?" No, he did not. I invented time machines too and I wanted to help out a struggling inventor in 1793. So sue me. The macarena? Mine. Shoes with buckles...pilgrims, but I let them have that one too. Reality TV? That one I apologize for. I didn't think filming a bunch of people doing nothing would catch on so I really meant it as a joke. Oops. The joke was on everyone.
Wow, now that I think about it I've had my hand in a lot of things. Space travel, automated-teller machines, super-sizing fast food, ping pong, the letter z, the 80s (everyone wanted to skip them but I said give it a chance), row boats. I've done a lot of things in my years and I plan to do a lot more so watch out!!

Tuesday, February 3, 2009

Top Five Musical Instruments...ever!

So my cousin Jacob and I were having a very intense debate the other day about how cool guitars are (way cool btw) and like a mighty crack of thunder we realized that though it rules the world of rock, the guitar is NOT the coolest instrument ever. It's not even in the top 5! So after much research (none at all) and a professional process of elimination (we threw out ideas until we laughed at one) I present you with THE official top five musical intruments list!

5. The zither...I don't even know what it is. Mystery makes things cool.

4. The kazoo! Kazoos are great because they make anyone a musician! Ironically, and very unfortunate, is that kazoos make anyone a musician.

3. The third coolest intrument is the timpani, those monstrously huge drums you see in the orchestra.....waaaaay in the back. I vote it at number three because these guys do so much but you only hear so little. Most people talk to a timpanist (one who plays the timpani) and they say,"So what do you do?" "Oh I'm a timpanist." "Oh that's amazing!" The rest of the conversation is very awkward because the first person still has no clue what just happened, and the timpanist goes home yet again without a phone number. Sad face.

2. The Gong. I'm sure it takes four years at a prestigious music school to gain the credentials to play this one but really? Is it that hard? No. Is it that cool? YES! It had an entire TV show named after it (The Gong Show...obviously, but I guarantee someone didn't know that.) Basically, what's cooler than walking into a room and having your presence announced to all by some super tough dude smacking a gong? The only thing cooler I can think of is being heralded by.........

1. .....The CANNON!! BOOM!! *The following history may or may not have occurred...let's face it though, this is all true. It's like Tchaikovsky was thinking,"I'm writing the 1812 Overture (how cocky to claim the overture was sufficient for the entire year) and it's gotta be good!" See, he probably had a whole bunch of people telling him,"Whatev T-dog! You're just a joke! Your music has brought about the premature end to so many dinner parties in Europe that our women are no longer plump, for lack of a nightly meal! (That's how they insulted each other in those days.)"
So the Kovmeister was super mad. He knew for a for a fact that the women were still perfectly plump. He wanted revenge! He wanted blood...and revenge! He immediately went to the city's reserve artillery corps and hired them to stand behind the symphony and choir for the performance and blast the naysayers to the new world. The original plan was to wait for the performance to end and then let loose the lead.
Since cannon operators are deaf anyway they were waiting for the sight of the audience's applause to fire the cannons. But during the final moments of the piece one of Tchiakovsky's harshest critics let fly one of the sauciest anecdotes, all around him were highly amused and applauded the effort. BAM! BAM! BAM! Not a single cannon ball scored a hit on the audience. They shelled for the
remainder of the song. As luck would have it the cannon fire was in perfect sync with the rhythm of the now classic tune so everyone believed it was all part of the show! Tchaikovsky was furious until he was approached by those who should have now been filled with cannon balls. "We are sorry," they said," we were wrong about your music. This is the most amazing collaberation of song and black powder that the world has ever witnessed. Please, forgive us." So T-Dog did. That's how T-Dog rolls. The cannon became part of the 1812 Overture and he went back to make it appear as though it was originally included in the score. He never told anyone about the true, murderous plans he had originally intended for them...and yet somehow I know exactly what happened.