I always wondered.
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Which Firearm are you? |
With my head still spinning and feeling like an over inflated balloon about to burst, I decided to make it worse by sitting in front of the TV and playing video games. The vicodin isn't working anymore so why not pass the time quickly.
Taking Puppet's advice, I bought Zone of the Enders. Graphically the game was amazing. I was impressed. But the game ended about 3 hours later. Figuring I must have skipped something, I looked online to see where the other 90% of the game went. Here's a snip from one review I found:
"I thought rating this game above 7 was being too generous. However given it's 8.6 reader review rating I am reminded of Vanilla Ice, NKOTB, Boys to Quebes, and the Backdoor Boys and their outrageous undeserved fame and fortune and realize that no one has probably ever went broke for overestimating the bad taste of Americans."
This person may be on to something. I've noticed that most of pop culture seems to be the worst crap imaginable. Why is it that everyone will make fun of the most successful acts around? Not everyone must hate them. Somebody must be buying their stuff. Are people just too embarrassed to admit they love things so easily made fun of?
Think of the biggest things around over the last few decades (boy bands, Pokemon, Spice Girls, Barney, Michael Jackson, etc.) and you'll find sub-par talent. Britney Spears, for all her success, has her music written by others. She sounds like Katherine Hepburn with a sore throat. I bet she couldn't hit the same note twice to save her life. Industry creations with little substance are the ticket to fortune.
Oh yeah, Happy Thanksgiving.
Concussions suck. My head feels like it's filled with blood. If I lean more than a few inches in any direction I get dizzy. The pain was so bad that I couldn't talk. Moving my jaw, scratching my head, even burping, causes a sharp pain in the back of my skull.
For the first time in my life, Vicodin is working. At least I can lay back and sleep now.
Just to appease the 2 or 3 animal fans who might stumble across this blog, I thought I'd share something sick. I got really pissed off the other day.
There I was minding my own business. I approached a dental office and the secretary stops me about 20 feet from the door. She tells me there's a stray dog sitting there. It's scared and hungry so she's worried that it might attach it's fangs to my ass (wearing a uniform seems to bring that on). She takes the boxes there and I get a glimpse of this poor dog. The dentist comes out of the front door with some food. This german shepard is covered in dirt. Not like "stray dog dirt," but like someone shoveled it on him. Across his body, in bright neon orange spray paint, some cunt wrote "FREE."
Asshole.
Tonight (for some godawful reason), the puck will be dropped at 11pm. Aside from working all day, I've had one (yes, 1) meal all day. It should end a little after midnight. I'll be home about 1am.
Forget scoring.
Forget winning.
I'm just hoping I don't die. That would suck.
So I finally netted the biscuit in Anaheim. Mark comes down the center with speed. I see a 2 on 1 forming and sprint like hell to the net. The lone defensman screws up and goes after Mark instead of covering the pass (me). Screening the goalie should help Mark's heavy shot so I park myself about 1 foot out of the crease. Mark wrists a rolling puck hard in my direction. I slant the blade and redirect it through my legs just inside the far post. Woohoo!!!!
Sometimes, you wish a video camera would capture it all.
Of course, we still lost 6-2. We also managed to piss of the other team with our style of play. Witness the method to our madness....
1). They skate circles around us.
2). We get frustrated.
3). Since our big guys average 70 lbs. heavier than those teenage twerps, they start squashing the little bastards.
4). Small guys (like me) start using our sticks to tie up their forwards.
Result: We rule the penalty box (and have a lot more fun doing it)!!!
Plus, Dan brought beer so everything worked out. We got drunk in front of the main doors and Todd blasted LG through the car stereo. All was good.