I am the Community Blog Manager for Destructoid. I am also the resident Resplendent Black Grandmother. My mind is broken glass and my heart is swollen and corpulent, like a cheeto left in a puddle of Diet Coke.
Well that certainly sounded dramatic.
I, with the full support of the Shadow Council, have taken it up myself to hand out decoder rings to all new members here on the C-blogs. I also like handing out little bonus gifts as well depending on what's in the trunk of my car on any given day. I do this because I have things growing inside me. Dark, twisted things that need love. So let me love you.
This is a past banner of mine that was made by fellow Dtoider and sexting partner Char Aznable. I have tattooed this on my heart. My apologies for it being cut off but I don't know how to make it smaller and screaming at the screen hasn't worked yet.
This is a picture Science Jesus and kind-voiced personal savior Beyamor drew while thinking about me. It's my old avatar but it still rings true in the hearts of men and beasts alike. I bet he wasn't wearing pants when he made it. A man can dream, right?
I was recently gifted with a Dtoid card. Its hard to put into words how much this means to me that I am finally a playing card.
I am the God King of my Heart.
Here are some pictures of things I like. I hope you like them too.
Why is it that shorter weeks at work always feel longer? I hate that feeling. Another week here in the waking world, another edition of Occam Thoughts.
So Mardi Gras happened here or as I like to call it, Low Tide: Renegade Edition. Other than traffic, racism, and hipsters, large crowds of drunk people are my least favorite thing on earth. So every year that Mardi Gras rolls around, I go find a king cake (imagine a giant cinnamon roll in drag) and hide away from the festivities. I donít live in New Orleans but am close enough to where I see the spill over from the crowds and the clusterfuckery. Now I donít begrudge anyone a good time but Iíve been to Bourbon Street during Mardi Gras and seriously, it is an environment not unlike what I imagine Kim Kardashianís vagina to be like. New Orleans has some fine moments, interesting places and some really great food but Mardi Gras is my least favorite aspect of the city.
Also that whole show me your tits thing...just fucking ugh. I'm no prude but I don't want to see your tits any more than you want me to pull out my dick and do cock puppet theater.
So my dad had his pace maker replaced. Apparently every eight years or so the pace maker dies but hey, better the pace maker than the pace make-ee I figure. It was a fairly simple outpatient procedure and my dad is now fine and back to accusing me of replacing his heart pills with Flinstoneís Chewables. However, before the procedure I humbly requested that he ask the doctor if I could keep the old pace maker. God love the old man he didnít blink an eye and simply said he would see. So the procedure is done and I get a phone call from my mom.
Mom: Your father is resting and ok.
Me: Good deal.
Mom: We got the pace maker. In itís a pee cup.
So now I have this pace maker and I sorta want to make a necklace out of it.
I recently completed Dead Space 2. What a treat. Really liked it and it felt a lot more fleshed out this time around. People knock it for having cheap scares and being too action-oriented but shit, thatís why I like it. I would love to see a return to the slower, more methodical mind fuck survival horror games of my youth and maybe that'll happen later on. But Dead Space does the action hell monster eat your face thing really well and I fully embrace that. The explanation of the Marker religion, the larger setting and some of the death scenes all made me smile a porcelain doll faced grin. Especially one particular death scene that happens towards the end of the game that I wonít elaborate on here but sufficed it say I called my friend after it happened and told him about it and we jumped up and down giggling over it. So yeah, if you havenít played it and are on the fence, give it a shot. Itís a lot of fun and has some really great moments. Oh and I tried the multiplayer. Its as necessary as Crystal Pepsi.
So Marvel vs Capcom 3 came out. I like it. It has Haggar in it. I like Haggar. I love Haggar. Heís my biological father you know. Now Iím not particularly good at the game. In fact, Iím rather mediocre in the grand realm of things but my one and only goal is to have fun and by God I do. I picked up that Tekken 6 wireless controller just to have a fight stick to use. That is rather unheard of for me to buy a peripheral for a game so I know that my heart truly sings the praises of this game. Plus the fight stick was super cheap at Best Buy.
So I have Haggar, Dante andÖno one. I cannot for the life of me find a third I am competent with. Deadpool, Hulk, Amaterasu, and Wolverine are all enjoyable but Iím not clicking with any of them. I figure Iíll either power through until I find someone I can jive with or they will release Strider via DLC and Iíll be ok again.
I recently had to go to Chiliís for lunch on an out of town work trip.
It was recommended to my co-workers and I during our business trip. Who in the fuck recommends a Chiliís as a place to eat to anyone? You either A) hate that person or B) have no taste buds. I tried pointing out the tiny diners and quaint cafes we passed along the way. I tried threatening their lives. I even tried explaining to them how Chiliís is really just a front for the Westboro Baptist Church to funnel money into anti-gay activist groups, all to no avail. So we end up at Chiliís and I resign myself to some kind of chipotle ranch chicken dipper abortion. I browse the soups and the burgers and the fiesta finger bang lunch specials but I just canít do it. There was nothing on the menu I wanted to exchange my hard-earned money for.
So I ended up getting coffee (which was weak) and water and sitting there tweeting to keep sane and counting all the rat tails that passed me by. For those of you that smirked at my tweeting comment, look at it this way: itís like tiny stream of conscious poetry that you share with your friends. Sometimes Jean Benet is mentioned. I can definitely get behind that. I hadnít been to a Chiliís in close to a decade before that experience and I hope that its at least another decade before I have to step foot in that sad factory again.
Couple of quick hits for the remainder of our time together.
-Magicka: Vietnam looks awesome and I adore the concept behind this. Someone should take the idea of wizards during wartime and make an RPG based on it. Maybe something like the glorious comic book Gravel by Warren Ellis. Thatís the stuff Occam dreams are made of.
-Last week I was a groomsman in a wedding. While I am happy to see my friends get married (as they are perfect together) and was tickled to wish them ďgood fuckingĒ before they headed off on their honey moon, I have to say, paying $140 to rent a tux is just rude. Seriously, I can go buy one of those tuxedo shirts and then a bunch of beer and we would have a much better time than having me stand there in a tux looking like the physical manifestation of a shart. However, since I never ever ever ever dress up or even tuck in my shirt for that matter, here is me in my tux.
I really really really hate this photo but I love love love all of you so here you go.
-The lady was playing Bioshock 2 and put a trap rivet through a catís neck and it looked awesome so hereís a picture.
-Through the magic of my Dtoid buddies, I have discovered the true joy of
this site. Itís amazing and I can assure you it works very well even if it cuts longer words and phrases off.
Lastly, I want to leave you all with the greatest picture I have found so far this year. It asks all the right questions and begs for stories to be told. Itís been the background on my home PC for a few weeks now and no one like it at all but me. Good. Fuck them. Itís a perfect thing and I adore it. Hope you enjoy it too.