I want to go to Blackcomb & Whistler and ride down a slope so long that I can listen to the entire track of Ghost Love Score by Nightwish.
You there, reading this: you'd better have a damn good excuse for why you can't come with us to blackcomb the next time we next. Unless you come. Then you are excused from needing an excuse for not coming.
Monday, November 28, 2011
Friday, November 25, 2011
Obligatory Recent Philly Trip Post
Actually I'm not going to write about it. I wrote three drafts, and all were squelched by my better judgement.
But here is a 4 line fizzbuzz program instead! Yay!
#!/usr/bin/ruby
for i in 1..100
fb = {0 => i, 2 => "fizz", 4 => "buzz", 6 => "fizzbuzz"}
puts fb[ (i%3).zero?.object_id + (i%5).zero?.object_id*2 ]
end
This problem is seductive because the requirement to not print the number when you are printing fizz/buzz means that a simple, clean IF statement won't work, and you'll have to use an ugly IF structure that bothers people like me. So I spent ten minutes researching the innards of ruby until I was able to remove the IF statement completely.
But here is a 4 line fizzbuzz program instead! Yay!
#!/usr/bin/ruby
for i in 1..100
fb = {0 => i, 2 => "fizz", 4 => "buzz", 6 => "fizzbuzz"}
puts fb[ (i%3).zero?.object_id + (i%5).zero?.object_id*2 ]
end
This problem is seductive because the requirement to not print the number when you are printing fizz/buzz means that a simple, clean IF statement won't work, and you'll have to use an ugly IF structure that bothers people like me. So I spent ten minutes researching the innards of ruby until I was able to remove the IF statement completely.
Monday, November 14, 2011
Bleh
Rachel deleted my number. Said she got a new phone. Then I got a new phone. I am a complete idiot but I have all my numbers. I even have new ones. Thanks to stupid ass Google when I text people their email address shows up as well. Also typing on this thing sucks. I can't even tell you why because it would take an hour to type it. There are no keys. Just a flat screen and tiny squares that are easy to miss. I don't think I can safetly text while driving anymore because I have to look at the screen now. On the plus side I can now get GPS and internet on my phone. Except I can't type the address in while driving. Bleh
Sunday, November 6, 2011
The First Person Shooter Called "Space Marine"
Space Marine covers a single engagement on a single planet. The plot revolves around two betrayals, one so obvious that the game would have been more interesting if it hadn't happened, and one during the final cut scene that makes you feel like you just wasted $50 and ten hours. That cut scene is a cliffhanger. THQ probably won't be making a sequel.
I've played two..."modern" first person shooters recently, and both of them had similar retarded gameplay elements. One is the stupid shield recharge thing from halo. You have this shield thing that takes damage but only recovers when you're not being hit. This forces you to constantly find cover and sit there, waiting for your shield thing to recharge. Fun Game Activity #1: Sitting around waiting for your armor to recharge. Mostly the reason I was playing this game was because I wanted to pretend I was a Space Marine. Given that the main character is a Space Marine, I thought that would work out, but Space Marines actually don't burst out, kill some people, and then run back to cover. Space Marines don't actually ever run away, because thanks to conditioning that likely makes them homicidal maniacs, they are literally unable to experience fear. In this game, though, you have to run away and hide in cover. Because of your Halo shield. Sometimes people blow your cover while you are sitting around, waiting for your shields to come back up. Then you die.
Another element is this thing where you can only carry around a limited number of guns. In real life you can probably only carry around one or two large guns. This is one of the reasons I don't go around shooting people in real life. Video games are fun because you aren't actually killing people, and you can deviate from real life in order to make it fun. The main character in this game is a human that has probably lived for hundreds of years, wearing a special armor suit that magically repairs itself and which is made of some fantasy material that can withstand high powered impacts but is so light that it doesn't cause a large crater and kill the wearer when you fall 50 feet. You're fighting aliens that don't exist, who can be shot more than five times directly in the face without dying, and the realism they chose to add was that I'm not allowed to carry more than 4 guns. So, obviously, on a planet that was recently besieged by 2 million orks, you, at regular intervals, come upon rings of supply boxes perfectly arranged for you to select various weapons. Fun Game Activity #2: Trying to decide which weapons you have to take. Many of the weapons in the game only work well on certain enemies. Many enemies in the game can only be effectively with certain weapons. When choosing which weapons to take with you, you rarely know which enemies you will face. The best way to choose weapons is to pick some at random, die, and then come back and pick the right ones.
A third, actually, stupid element of the modern shooter is the inability to save the game. Being able to save and load games has actually been a part of PC (not console) video games since the beginning of PC games. In recent times, though, I guess, they don't want you to be able to save and load whenever you want, because I guess people keep, you know, cheating, by saving right before the difficult parts and just loading them again and again until they beat them. Fun Game Activity #3: Running down the same long-ass hallway and playing through the same boring battle twenty times in a row because you keep dying sometime after that. Now, take this auto save thing, and combine it with only being able to carry 4 weapons. Now imagine there is a part of the game where you have to fight these flying enemies that are all flying around a tenth of a mile off the edge of a cliff, but you accidentally chose weapons that are nearly useless when trying to kill flying enemies. Now lets imagine that the gave auto saved for you right after you chose those weapons, with no way to go back and change them, so that no matter how many times to reload the game or die, you still come back in the game with the wrong weapons and your only choices are basically to fight a UAV with a pistol and an axe OR go back and play the entire game all the way through again just so you can reach the same spot again but hopefully remember to choose the right weapons this time. Remember, though, you're not allowed to save the game, ever, so if you restart it, you lose everything you just accomplished in the past few days.
Space Marines fight in squads. You are given probably the smallest number of people that could ever count as a squad: 2. Its just you and these two guys. You don't command them, at all, or use any kind of squad based tactics. You just fight near them, and they follow you around like little puppies, and they are invincible, and also all of the enemies inexplicably target you instead of them so you can't even invent your own tactics based on being followed around by dogs. Later, one of them dies unnecessarily to add weight to a cut-scene, and the other betrays you while you are (literally) single-handedly saving the world. There is a brief bridge battle where you get to fight alongside other Space Marines for real. That was fun. And lots of them are Blood Ravens, the chapter that I wish this game had been about.
Sometimes you can to use a Jump Pack, the things that make assault marines able to fly. Jump packs dont work very well but they are fun. You can use them an infinite amount of time without them running out of fuel, but when you enter certain hallways after certain battles they always run out of fuel right then and the main character discards them.
The only way to get health (most of the time) is to perform an "execution" by pressing F on an enemy that is "stunned." The computer tells you an enemy is stunned but putting circles near his head. There are many enemies that you are told are stunned because they have circles over their head (and because you just beat the shit out of them) but when you try to execute them they suddenly wake up and fight back and hurt you a lot. The only way to execute these enemies is using a special melee weapon that is a Hammer. Yup, futuristic science fiction game where you fight with hammers and they thought limiting the number of guns you can carry would be important realism. The reason this hammer is special is that while carrying it, the number of other weapons you can have drops from 4 to 2, and the 2 weapons you are allowed to use are the least useful ones. So you have a choice between not being able to get health back from half of the enemies or having ineffective weapons. I made my choice and started carrying that damn hammer everywhere, because I was tired of dying, but that was when I ran into that part where I had to fight flying vehicles and couldn't go back and get more effective weapons. I realize that this is serious business and all, but wouldn't it be cool if you had a thing where you could pretend to be a space marine and could use any weapon you wanted? It would be like a game.
In the Space Marine universe there are these people that are like doctors who fix you up. We call them Medics. Space Marines call them "apothecaries" because space marine medic just wasn't badass enough. There isn't a single fucking Apothecary anywhere in the game. By the way, the main character is a Captain in command of hundreds of space marines. He could probably requisition an apothecary if he needed one. Nope. Only way to get health back is to execute enemies. Fun Game Activity #4: running around trying to find small enemies to "execute" instead of fighting for real. Executing enemies leaves you vulnerable to ranged and melee attacks while you do it, which means that by the time you finish and execution you took a lot of damage and need to perform another execution in order to regain health, which is literally a vicious cycle.
The Apothecaries, had they been in the game, would have had this cool-looking white armor.
The gameplay is a lot like Duke Forever, which I guess is how most modern first person shooters are done now. You are let along the most constricting critical path from cut-scene to cut-scene like a balloon full of coke being squeezed through someone's colon. There is almost always exactly one path you can take, and all of the door handles glow. You can't ever go backwards; you have fewer choices than I've ever seen in an FPS. Its like you are just being spoonfed tiny bits of a game.
You don't get to pilot any vehicles or tanks. The only Space Marine equipment that appears in the game is the Thunderhawk transport. You occasionally find a heavy bolter but can't carry it around around for long. Since you don't have a squad, you don't have the option to give one of your nonexistent squadmembers a heavy bolter, or heavy flamer. No dreadnoughts or terminators appear.
The game appears to have been designed to force you to use hand-to-hand combat in almost every encounter. If you prefer shooting...you should probably play a different game. Tactics don't matter a whole lot beyond choosing which stack of crates to cower behind.
During an Ork invasion, the main character, Captain Titus of the Ultramarines, rescues an Inquisitor who turns out of be an agent of chaos when he betrays Titus and opens up a warp rift, allowing the Chaos Marines, arch nemesi of the Ultramarines, to invade the planet. Then Captain Titus watches his best friend die and single-handedly saves the planet. While he is busy saving the planet a rookie space marine calls the Inquisition (basically secret police) on Captain Titus, and once the planet is saved a second inquisitor arrives and threatens to have the inquisition start a war to kill all of the Ultramarines and all other humans on the planet unless Titus surrenders and lets himself be arrested. This second inquisitor is a hollow, flat, single-minded character who probably doesnt care if Titus is innocent or not, who takes Captain Titus away in his gay little shuttle just as the game ends. Again, there probably won't be a sequel.
I've played two..."modern" first person shooters recently, and both of them had similar retarded gameplay elements. One is the stupid shield recharge thing from halo. You have this shield thing that takes damage but only recovers when you're not being hit. This forces you to constantly find cover and sit there, waiting for your shield thing to recharge. Fun Game Activity #1: Sitting around waiting for your armor to recharge. Mostly the reason I was playing this game was because I wanted to pretend I was a Space Marine. Given that the main character is a Space Marine, I thought that would work out, but Space Marines actually don't burst out, kill some people, and then run back to cover. Space Marines don't actually ever run away, because thanks to conditioning that likely makes them homicidal maniacs, they are literally unable to experience fear. In this game, though, you have to run away and hide in cover. Because of your Halo shield. Sometimes people blow your cover while you are sitting around, waiting for your shields to come back up. Then you die.
Another element is this thing where you can only carry around a limited number of guns. In real life you can probably only carry around one or two large guns. This is one of the reasons I don't go around shooting people in real life. Video games are fun because you aren't actually killing people, and you can deviate from real life in order to make it fun. The main character in this game is a human that has probably lived for hundreds of years, wearing a special armor suit that magically repairs itself and which is made of some fantasy material that can withstand high powered impacts but is so light that it doesn't cause a large crater and kill the wearer when you fall 50 feet. You're fighting aliens that don't exist, who can be shot more than five times directly in the face without dying, and the realism they chose to add was that I'm not allowed to carry more than 4 guns. So, obviously, on a planet that was recently besieged by 2 million orks, you, at regular intervals, come upon rings of supply boxes perfectly arranged for you to select various weapons. Fun Game Activity #2: Trying to decide which weapons you have to take. Many of the weapons in the game only work well on certain enemies. Many enemies in the game can only be effectively with certain weapons. When choosing which weapons to take with you, you rarely know which enemies you will face. The best way to choose weapons is to pick some at random, die, and then come back and pick the right ones.
A third, actually, stupid element of the modern shooter is the inability to save the game. Being able to save and load games has actually been a part of PC (not console) video games since the beginning of PC games. In recent times, though, I guess, they don't want you to be able to save and load whenever you want, because I guess people keep, you know, cheating, by saving right before the difficult parts and just loading them again and again until they beat them. Fun Game Activity #3: Running down the same long-ass hallway and playing through the same boring battle twenty times in a row because you keep dying sometime after that. Now, take this auto save thing, and combine it with only being able to carry 4 weapons. Now imagine there is a part of the game where you have to fight these flying enemies that are all flying around a tenth of a mile off the edge of a cliff, but you accidentally chose weapons that are nearly useless when trying to kill flying enemies. Now lets imagine that the gave auto saved for you right after you chose those weapons, with no way to go back and change them, so that no matter how many times to reload the game or die, you still come back in the game with the wrong weapons and your only choices are basically to fight a UAV with a pistol and an axe OR go back and play the entire game all the way through again just so you can reach the same spot again but hopefully remember to choose the right weapons this time. Remember, though, you're not allowed to save the game, ever, so if you restart it, you lose everything you just accomplished in the past few days.
Space Marines fight in squads. You are given probably the smallest number of people that could ever count as a squad: 2. Its just you and these two guys. You don't command them, at all, or use any kind of squad based tactics. You just fight near them, and they follow you around like little puppies, and they are invincible, and also all of the enemies inexplicably target you instead of them so you can't even invent your own tactics based on being followed around by dogs. Later, one of them dies unnecessarily to add weight to a cut-scene, and the other betrays you while you are (literally) single-handedly saving the world. There is a brief bridge battle where you get to fight alongside other Space Marines for real. That was fun. And lots of them are Blood Ravens, the chapter that I wish this game had been about.
Sometimes you can to use a Jump Pack, the things that make assault marines able to fly. Jump packs dont work very well but they are fun. You can use them an infinite amount of time without them running out of fuel, but when you enter certain hallways after certain battles they always run out of fuel right then and the main character discards them.
The only way to get health (most of the time) is to perform an "execution" by pressing F on an enemy that is "stunned." The computer tells you an enemy is stunned but putting circles near his head. There are many enemies that you are told are stunned because they have circles over their head (and because you just beat the shit out of them) but when you try to execute them they suddenly wake up and fight back and hurt you a lot. The only way to execute these enemies is using a special melee weapon that is a Hammer. Yup, futuristic science fiction game where you fight with hammers and they thought limiting the number of guns you can carry would be important realism. The reason this hammer is special is that while carrying it, the number of other weapons you can have drops from 4 to 2, and the 2 weapons you are allowed to use are the least useful ones. So you have a choice between not being able to get health back from half of the enemies or having ineffective weapons. I made my choice and started carrying that damn hammer everywhere, because I was tired of dying, but that was when I ran into that part where I had to fight flying vehicles and couldn't go back and get more effective weapons. I realize that this is serious business and all, but wouldn't it be cool if you had a thing where you could pretend to be a space marine and could use any weapon you wanted? It would be like a game.
In the Space Marine universe there are these people that are like doctors who fix you up. We call them Medics. Space Marines call them "apothecaries" because space marine medic just wasn't badass enough. There isn't a single fucking Apothecary anywhere in the game. By the way, the main character is a Captain in command of hundreds of space marines. He could probably requisition an apothecary if he needed one. Nope. Only way to get health back is to execute enemies. Fun Game Activity #4: running around trying to find small enemies to "execute" instead of fighting for real. Executing enemies leaves you vulnerable to ranged and melee attacks while you do it, which means that by the time you finish and execution you took a lot of damage and need to perform another execution in order to regain health, which is literally a vicious cycle.
The Apothecaries, had they been in the game, would have had this cool-looking white armor.
The gameplay is a lot like Duke Forever, which I guess is how most modern first person shooters are done now. You are let along the most constricting critical path from cut-scene to cut-scene like a balloon full of coke being squeezed through someone's colon. There is almost always exactly one path you can take, and all of the door handles glow. You can't ever go backwards; you have fewer choices than I've ever seen in an FPS. Its like you are just being spoonfed tiny bits of a game.
You don't get to pilot any vehicles or tanks. The only Space Marine equipment that appears in the game is the Thunderhawk transport. You occasionally find a heavy bolter but can't carry it around around for long. Since you don't have a squad, you don't have the option to give one of your nonexistent squadmembers a heavy bolter, or heavy flamer. No dreadnoughts or terminators appear.
The game appears to have been designed to force you to use hand-to-hand combat in almost every encounter. If you prefer shooting...you should probably play a different game. Tactics don't matter a whole lot beyond choosing which stack of crates to cower behind.
During an Ork invasion, the main character, Captain Titus of the Ultramarines, rescues an Inquisitor who turns out of be an agent of chaos when he betrays Titus and opens up a warp rift, allowing the Chaos Marines, arch nemesi of the Ultramarines, to invade the planet. Then Captain Titus watches his best friend die and single-handedly saves the planet. While he is busy saving the planet a rookie space marine calls the Inquisition (basically secret police) on Captain Titus, and once the planet is saved a second inquisitor arrives and threatens to have the inquisition start a war to kill all of the Ultramarines and all other humans on the planet unless Titus surrenders and lets himself be arrested. This second inquisitor is a hollow, flat, single-minded character who probably doesnt care if Titus is innocent or not, who takes Captain Titus away in his gay little shuttle just as the game ends. Again, there probably won't be a sequel.
Sing for the laughter, sing for the tears
Sing with me, sing for the year
Sing for the laughter, sing for the tears
Sing with me, if it's just for today
Sing for the laughter, sing for the tears
Sing with me, if it's just for today
This birthday girl had a boyfriend, so it was a five couples/sixth wheel kind of night. We went to some piano bar in Pioneer Square. Most of my other piano bar memories are either from Vegas with these asshole pianists who were ostentatious tip whores, or the night I tagged along to some overcrowded one in philly with Chris' ex and a bunch of her gay friends. It was the least I could do after he bought me "The Rules of the Game."
This piano bar wasn't bad though. The pianos were on a stage and they had a drum set. The music was good. I was fairly certain that they have never heard of Ever Dream, so I requested Dream On by "Aerosmith or Eminem" by writing it down on one of those little papers. Based on my experience with the tip whores in Vegas, I added a dollar to sweaten the deal enough for them to actually play it.
Then the DJs complained a lot about not having enough requests, but never mentioned Dream On. Various birthday girls all hung out on stage, and the DJs sang to them or whatever. The worst anyone had to do was sit on the piano, in a normal seating position. <-- foreshadowing
They were still complaining about running out of requests and not playing Dream On. Birthday girl--the one with our group--wanted to dance in the aisle so I pulled out some stuff I learned in the Blues club. She gave me the 3rd degree regarding the exact date of my birthday. She's not an asshole about it like Chris and Kev, so I just played the mystery card. Thought she was just being kind and thinking of others, because she is like one of those unselfish people. I was wrong.
When I wanted to cash out it was difficult waiting for our server to appear so I went to the bar. The people at the bar looked through some cards, didn't find mine, and then looked at me funny and told me I had to go find my server. Storing plastic cards with names on them is a solved problem. They fail. I made a mental note to never come back and hunted my server down so I could get my fucking card back. Then I stopped at the bathroom. Thats when they played Dream On. Ha! I wish. That's when they started calling my name, my full name, via the microphone.
Suddenly I'm on stage, sitting on a piano. No one told me why I was up there. They made me sit on the piano for some random song that was not Dream On. It was so boring. The song was finally over and I slid off, thinking I had done my time, but then the DJ told me to lay on the piano face down and pose like a playboy centerfold. Not making this up. Then they told me to hump the piano while they played another song that was not Dream On. I am so not making this up. Some girls in the front did that screaming thing or whatever but I was pretty sure they were just excited to be drunk and none of them wanted to make out later. I stayed as long as I could stand it and then left. They never played Dream On.
I didn't really want to go home, but I was too drunk and too cold to go for a ride. Some girl flagged me down in Pioneer Square to ask why I was walking so fast. Started talking to her but these two bums descended on us like vultures and my reflexes were dulled by the rum. She backed off. I went home, thinking of a dozen ways I could have kept that conversation going.
In conclusion: need to hit the blues club again.
Saturday, November 5, 2011
Fucking Girls Man
I'm sick of sleeping with these insipid Manhattan debutantes. Nothing shocks them anymore.
I drank to much to go for a ride, so I'm stuck here with my blog. Went to a hipster club tonight. I don't mind hipsters. I'm willing to play a hipster as long as I don't have to grow anything gay on my face. A girl tried to hit on me, asking for a cig. Actually I don't know what she asked for, but I searched my jacket that I was still wearing in the fucking club cause I"m lazy and I had neither a cig nor my awesome lighter. Then she said something about "I don't usually smoke either." I'm pretty sure that meant she wanted to make out somehow, sometime in the future, but the best thing I could thing of to say was "Good luck [finding a cig]." She got one from someone else and smiled at me on her way out. After she was gone I thought of a million things I could have said to her, but I was too slow. I think talking to girls runs in O(n) or O(n^2). We need to get it to O(1). Whatever the case, my damn lighter is in my hand now, and its pretty fucking awesome. The awesomeness of my lighter may not have gotten her shirt off, but that's the way I'm going to tell it. Fucking A. What the hell am I writing about. Yeah. I'm buying a pack of smokes tomorrow, and I'm going to smoke one (because I've never had a cigarette in my life and I'm not going to try one in front of a girl like a bad 80s movie), and leave the rest in my jacket for the next time I am in a fucking hipster bar. There are many, many reasons a girl might not want to make out with me. Some stupid shit I say should never be one of them (long story). Me not having a lighter/pack should also never be one of them.
Then, so, after that I realized that I should wake up and pay attention. Saw this girl standing by herself, looking like...something about I should go dance with her. She wasn't smoking hot like the girl who wanted to go grab a smoke, and I really didn't think I was going to do it, but for some reason I walked up to her and asked her name. She shot me down with a drunk version of the rude hand wave that Sebastian used in cruel intentions to diss the meter maid. It was cruel. I tried to console myself that she was not that hot but it still burned. I guess I got to get used to it.
If I got sad every time my code didn't compile I wouldn't be able to program for shit.
So...then I thought about Betsy, and Shea, and after realizing I was too drunk to ride I figured I'd be a nerd and write about it. I have this fantasy where my life is so exciting that my inability to meet girls in Seattle didn't matter, but in that fantasy I'm never trapped in my apartment because of my blood alcohol content.
Oh, and there was this guy at the club...a friend of a friend...my friends told him I'm a pilot and he turned out to be a flight instructor at one of the places down at boeing field. And we were right next to the speakers. We had an entire club-style shouting conversation...a shoutversation, about my flight club and where I like to fly because there was no way I could explain I lost my medical certificate in a noisy club. Stupid fucking friends; I wish no one knew I ever had a pilots license.
Tuesday, November 1, 2011
Philly Down
I scheduled my flights. I arrive in philly on the 12th and depart on
the 21st.
November. Possibly not my favorite month, but the best month in the year.
I had a "housewarming" party when to moved to my cheaper, crappier apartment. People actually came this time. I seriously had like an outline for an epic post about all the shit I screwed up with the move and the 48 hour moving marathon that ensued, culminating on a Saturday night with me, after having climbed through the boxes in my new apartment to approximate a shower sans curtain and trekked all over capitol hill trying to meet up with some friends because of what later turned out to be false promises of single girls, sank in disappointment as I was sitting on my sportbike--the last thing I needed to liberate from Fountain Court--after just witnessing exactly what happens when you trying to put a bike with a bad clutch line into first gear. I did it twice, because I didn't believe it the first time.
So then the party...I had a good time. Not sure if everyone else did...I just know that I made myself two flaming Dr Peppers and that all of my friends are cool. Oh yeah, this was the night before my buddy lowsided his Aprilia. Fuck, maybe I did write about this already. Well, anyway. There were no single girls there. Two friends from across the sound came, and they were both attractive and fun and except for the fact that they both had husbands/boyfriends, they were roughly the type of demographic we'd like to see more of around here. They also, I found out later, thought my friends were nerdy and left early because we were all too...whatever. I have no opinion on that. I'm pretty sure I'm the one who brought up LaTeX though. I don't know how, or why, all I know is that when I get a chance to bitch about why I think someone gave something a stupid name (like our fucking building at work!) all of the pleasure centers light up in my brain. And then, I guess, my buddy tipped his hand by trying to explain what TeX was to them. I don't know. My memories of all that are fuzzy and mostly second-hand. I should probably stop mentioning LaTeX around girls. Yeah. That'll be number two in my own version of "The Rules:"
2. Never talk about LaTeX around girls.
Do you have an opinion about #2? Fuck off. Oh and there is a #1...I just don't want to talk about it right now. Here's the moral of the story: we finally have critical mass for good parties. And whistler trips. And possibly ridiculous journeys on sportbikes. Oh, and:
3. Continue never playing Dungeon and Dragons. Fuck D&D. You know, there only two D&D players I every really liked: one was this guy Drumin, who dated Colleen's roomate who looked like Claire Danes, and two is a placeholder for any person in a conversation who plays D&D but doesn't mention it until after I start bitching about how stupid it is. Maybe this rule should be number 1.
Ironically I am still willing to play magic, because at neoquest, the magic players had fun personalities, and I don't actually care that much about that thing with the girl. Girls on OkCupid are super bitches; he knew what he was getting into. Did I write about my own OkCupid recent experience? Oh it never got published. It's a classic (but not horrific) tried-to-meet-a-girl-but-instead-got-guys story. Tell you what, I'll give you the first half:
November. Possibly not my favorite month, but the best month in the year.
I had a "housewarming" party when to moved to my cheaper, crappier apartment. People actually came this time. I seriously had like an outline for an epic post about all the shit I screwed up with the move and the 48 hour moving marathon that ensued, culminating on a Saturday night with me, after having climbed through the boxes in my new apartment to approximate a shower sans curtain and trekked all over capitol hill trying to meet up with some friends because of what later turned out to be false promises of single girls, sank in disappointment as I was sitting on my sportbike--the last thing I needed to liberate from Fountain Court--after just witnessing exactly what happens when you trying to put a bike with a bad clutch line into first gear. I did it twice, because I didn't believe it the first time.
So then the party...I had a good time. Not sure if everyone else did...I just know that I made myself two flaming Dr Peppers and that all of my friends are cool. Oh yeah, this was the night before my buddy lowsided his Aprilia. Fuck, maybe I did write about this already. Well, anyway. There were no single girls there. Two friends from across the sound came, and they were both attractive and fun and except for the fact that they both had husbands/boyfriends, they were roughly the type of demographic we'd like to see more of around here. They also, I found out later, thought my friends were nerdy and left early because we were all too...whatever. I have no opinion on that. I'm pretty sure I'm the one who brought up LaTeX though. I don't know how, or why, all I know is that when I get a chance to bitch about why I think someone gave something a stupid name (like our fucking building at work!) all of the pleasure centers light up in my brain. And then, I guess, my buddy tipped his hand by trying to explain what TeX was to them. I don't know. My memories of all that are fuzzy and mostly second-hand. I should probably stop mentioning LaTeX around girls. Yeah. That'll be number two in my own version of "The Rules:"
2. Never talk about LaTeX around girls.
Do you have an opinion about #2? Fuck off. Oh and there is a #1...I just don't want to talk about it right now. Here's the moral of the story: we finally have critical mass for good parties. And whistler trips. And possibly ridiculous journeys on sportbikes. Oh, and:
3. Continue never playing Dungeon and Dragons. Fuck D&D. You know, there only two D&D players I every really liked: one was this guy Drumin, who dated Colleen's roomate who looked like Claire Danes, and two is a placeholder for any person in a conversation who plays D&D but doesn't mention it until after I start bitching about how stupid it is. Maybe this rule should be number 1.
Ironically I am still willing to play magic, because at neoquest, the magic players had fun personalities, and I don't actually care that much about that thing with the girl. Girls on OkCupid are super bitches; he knew what he was getting into. Did I write about my own OkCupid recent experience? Oh it never got published. It's a classic (but not horrific) tried-to-meet-a-girl-but-instead-got-guys story. Tell you what, I'll give you the first half:
Some girl on OKCupid was all about karaoke. Given my new affinity
for these private-room karaoke clubs where you drunkenly play with
karaoke machines, I figured I had an opening and messaged her something
about I bless the RAAAAAINS down in AAAAAFRICAAAAA. We had a boring
conversation about karaoke and I told her that the private room thing is
the shiznet and hey, why don't I get some friends, and you get some
friends, and we'll all go sing some Toto together?
I was proud of myself. I have single guy friends who like going out and doing fun things and don't live 30 miles away. I figured she had some lady friends, and we would instantly have a good time.
I talked to my guy friends. They were down. Then the entire operation fell apart. She had trouble getting some friends...I said if there's too few people lets switch it to happy hour...and then I found out that the one friend she was going to bring was a dude. She was going to bring guys to karaoke. I don't know what the fuck this girl was thinking; I figured the whole "I'll bring friends you bring friends" thing made it kind of obvious that her contribution to the group would be ladies. Did she really think it would be not weird to have a bunch of guys all singing songs to each other in a private karaoke room? I don't even know...anyway.
I was proud of myself. I have single guy friends who like going out and doing fun things and don't live 30 miles away. I figured she had some lady friends, and we would instantly have a good time.
I talked to my guy friends. They were down. Then the entire operation fell apart. She had trouble getting some friends...I said if there's too few people lets switch it to happy hour...and then I found out that the one friend she was going to bring was a dude. She was going to bring guys to karaoke. I don't know what the fuck this girl was thinking; I figured the whole "I'll bring friends you bring friends" thing made it kind of obvious that her contribution to the group would be ladies. Did she really think it would be not weird to have a bunch of guys all singing songs to each other in a private karaoke room? I don't even know...anyway.
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