Thursday, February 23, 2012

Beat Games

Have you ever beaten the video game, Super Contra? That game is awesome. Have you ever beaten Contra? That game is awesome, too. I flipped both of those games on countless occasions with my good friend, J-----. We would blast the audio out of the stereo speakers in the dorm room, and then the RA would come by and scold us. Ironic, is it not? We were able to defeat the Vile Red Falcon, but we were not able to defy some RA dude. That is the mysterious way of things.

Have you ever tried to beat the game, Milon's Secret Castle? That game is so impossible. Have you even heard of that game? It was really obscure. I got it from my uncle on the weird, obscure side of my family. You have to be really good at video games to beat that game.

When I was in college, I played a lot of Quake. I played online. Freshman year. My friend played online, too, and his screen name was "'Tude Adjuster." He went to Vassar, which was a better school than mine, and he would always beat me in Quake, because he was smarter than I was. Neither of us had friends.

"'Tude Adjuster" and I went to golf camp during the summer in high school. We would play golf on this small, unkempt course where all the holes were par 3's. My other friend got a summer job there, and he said he saw one of the college-aged workers beat a beaver to death with a 9-iron in the tool shed.

At that same club, we would sometimes get stuck playing golf with this weird kid, E-----, who would rub dirt on his face when he got frustrated/fatigued. "Oh man, E----- got a double-bogey, and now he's exfoliating his skin with a divot." That kid wasn't a talented golfer. He's probably good at other stuff. I, too, am not much of a golfer. I am much better at racquet sports.

Wednesday, February 22, 2012

Cesspool Sweeper

I have been sitting at this cafe all day. I don't usually do that, but I secured a good spot near the outlet, and now I am dug in like an Alabama tick. Who loves references to the movie, Predator, as much as I do? Cool. Great film.

My friend and I were watching the guy who works at the Thai restaurant across the street sweep filthy sidewalk water into the sewer drain. He was wearing a bathrobe and open-toed lounge slippers, like Ray Liotta, at the end of Goodfellas, when he retrieves the newspaper in the front yard of his Witness Protection Program house. Not a good outfit choice for sanitation work. That guy is going to get some sort of foot fungus. It made it seem like he just sleeps in the restaurant, next to the Pad Thai machine.

Tuesday, February 14, 2012

Belgian Zombocalypse

I am reading World War Z, by Max Brooks, son of Mel Brooks. I'm pretty sure I hate the book. Absolutely no character development whatsoever. Whenever I grow to like a certain character in the story, the perspective changes, and I have to get used to a new character. It's a little exhausting. Hopefully, by the time I finish this book, I will love it.

I brushed my dog, today. You could tell he felt conflicted about it. He mostly liked it, but it clearly made him somewhat uncomfortable.

Tonight I told my dog to "come" and "sit," and then, when he followed my commands, I explained that I just lost respect for him, because he shouldn't just do stuff because people tell him to. I'm trying to train him to be less of a patsy.

As I ate three and a half Belgian waffles tonight, I considered how I might be making a dining error, but I went ahead and completed my feast of doom. Now I feel like a baking soda volcano.