When I was a kid I used the abbreviated word "Misc." (as in, miscellaneous), as a word all on its own. My elementary school desk was often full of it, I once displayed it proudly as a collection.
I now present this collection of misc to you.
I just realized, like right now, that I can often tell what kind of a day I'm having by how early I drink my Mountain Dew. Today I rolled into work a little late (I don't have a set time to come in, it's just that the later I come in, the later I get to go home to my loving little family), so almost from the get-go, I'm off to a bad start.
It's 10 a.m. and I'm already thinking hard about that Code Red in the mini-fridge.
I wish I could remember where I first came across this concept, so that I could give "propers," but I've heard it told that if you replace, "um," or "uh," or "well..." or any of those fillers in conversation that make one sound indecisive and unable to properly deliver a message with "now," you suddenly seem like a go-getter. Someone who is doing something with their life. Someone who can put together a sentence.
Greenpeace, fresh off their last criticisms of the video game industry, has decided to focus their upper-middle class college student rage on one of this generation's most prized advances: fully destructible environments.
"As you know, we've always been critical of Link's wanton slaughter of living trees in the Legend of Zelda games," one Greenpeace activist, who preferred she only be referred to by her Spirit Mother title of Sunflower, said, "but the trees almost immediately grew back. We were dealing with a renewable resource. These new video game characters are destroying literal acres of precious video game rain forest and old growth."
When videos started cropping up online of people destroying entire islands' worth of trees on Crysis, and word got out that video game characters will be able to chop down trees in Fable 2, Greenpeace activists immediately sounded the call to other trust-fund babies to put down the bong and unite. Within a few days, patchoulli wafted in the air around both Microsoft's Redmond office and wherever the Crytech team is located as protesters rallied around.
An activist at the protest, Soleil Moon-Frye, took a break from waving her hand-made "Reduce Greenhouse Gases in Albion" sign to sound off about the potential ramifications that millions of players cutting trees apart in the Fable 2 universe might have on greenhouse gases. "I mean," she said, "it's just, you know, totally messed up, that these kids, like, who play these video games, they can like, cut the trees, you know, down? They spend all this time getting, like, a wife and some kids and stuff, but they don't even realize what they're doing to their family, you know? It's just soooo ignorant, right? Whose going to preserve that forest for that kid who's growing up?"
When asked if she realized that the world of Albion was, in fact, a fantasy world consisting of only computer code, Moon-Frye was quiet for a moment before saying, "Well, my boyfriend was saying last night that, you know, maybe none of this is real, right? Like, maybe we're just somebody's dream or something? He's, like, really deep."
Back when I was in elementary school, the very worst insult you could level against someone (or something) was that they were "croded." I guess it was kind of like cooties, but worse. The dirty kid who smelled bad? Croded. The nasty drinking fountain downstairs by the computer lab? Croded. And the tube slide that the big kids supposedly peed in? Cuh-roded.
Looking back, years later, I realized that we were saying corroded. The most common kind of corrosion we're familiar with is rust. Moral of this quick little story? Kids are weird.
Anyway, for fun, and to see if someone else has this same memory, I googled "croded." Thanks to a lot of people who can't spell worth the proverbial beans, I have these examples:
First off the bat, we've got "The croded streets of Washington." This theme is followed for several entries down the page. There are croded beaches, croded streets, and this amusing question:
"How croded does Cape York get during school holidays?"
If it was anything like my school holidays, I would say pretty croded. Pretty croded indeed.
I especially like this one, from one anime fan offering room space to another for the big anime festival: "You are perfectly welcome to crash in my room if you want... it's a little croded but bathtubs can be comfortable too."
No thanks, homes. As much as I like some good anime (and believe me, I don't), I'll keep looking at my options.
Kristin has informed me that based on my most recent blogs, the ladies in the neighborhood are going to "think I'm weird" (like it's not too late for that). In an effort to remedy that just a bit, I give you a normal blog entry.
Don't get too excited.
Anyway, a week ago we went down to Ogden, and I had a very specific list of goals. I had called my friends down there in advance and informed them that during the Labor Day Weekend I would longboard, play ping pong, go bouldering, and go on a long mountain bike ride. I was going to do all of these things in spite of the threatening rain. Funny thing about weather forecasts. When they're wrong, you're like, "man, what's with the weather forecasters? They're always wrong!" When they're right, though, you've been counting on them being wrong, so you're mad anyway.
The point of this? Freaking weather forecasters. Bouldering and mountain biking ended up being out.
Anyway, we rolled into town Saturday afternoon. After hitting the Costco - hard - I got together with a buddy and we hit some nice hills on the longboards. These pictures are from early this spring, but who cares?
In order from top: Dave, Yours Truly, and Brandon
Almost immediately after this adventure, in which Dave and I spent a lot of time discussing offshore drilling (don't ask), and avoiding Latin-American Christians as they amassed on Weber State's campus for some kind of gathering, we hauled the ping-pong table down the stairs for some outdoor action.
In this one the blur makes my arm look really strong. So I put it in the blog.
In attendance: Ian (green shirt), Dave (bald), and Dan (Dan's the one who's back of the head you always see. I'm mad because he always won.) Joanna's really cute out there.
During this evening we discussed illegal immigration (in loud voices, to the point where Kristin called it "fighting"), global warming, and video games.
I started playing ping pong on a slightly more than casual basis back in high school. Dan had a table in his basement, and we drew all over it with sharpies. While our peers were out dating girls and going to sporting events, we friends spent our time in the basement, Tool on the stereo, chowing Lemonheads, screaming and laughing to the rhythmic, hollow sound of ping pong.
In a lot of ways, I'm kind of a loner. I quite enjoy a solitary mountain bike ride up the canyon, for example. As some kind of combination of guilt and self-sufficient delusions, I don't like depending on others; I hate putting other people out. There is one time, though, when I know I'll need some compatriots. When going it alone is just simply foolhardy.
You guessed it. Zombie invasion. I've had zombies on the mind lately, as have many of those who have surrounded me. I've finished World War Z - the post-apocalyptic tales of the Zombie Wars - and the Zombie Survival Guide, and I'm doing my best to get ready for the possible invasion. This includes practical things like stocking up on basic supplies (canned food, a backpacking stove, water filter, assault rifle), picking out the place where you might end up restarting the human race in safety, and learning some basic farming techniques.
The number one task, though, the one thing you can't do wrong, is the selection of your zombie fighting team. The team should consist of 4-8 folks you can trust (add two or three alternates in case members of your initial team get munched on the way to the rendezvous point) who will make up the survival squad.
I've thought about including real people who I know personally, but I'm afraid of alienating any of them. Plus, who's to say they want me on the team, you know? I'm working on my gun accuracy, and hope to have a plan in place with all of the contingencies worked out, but I'm not at tip-top zombie slaughter conditions yet.
Anyway, without further ado: my zombie survival team.
First of all, I want an old hand to the destruction of the undead. Someone who knows his way around a variety of weapons, someone who's been there, someone with a chainsaw for a hand.
Ash's prowess at beheading, shooting, and chopping up the undead with his car will prove to be absolutely crucial to the team. Nobody can get that many blasts out of a shotgun without reloading. That alone puts him at the top of my list.
Next, we'll need someone resourceful. Someone who can make something out of almost nothing. We'll need to know our way around motor vehicles, explosives, chemistry, defense, and more. I know what you're thinking. You're thinking that sissy MacGuyver. Man, that dude never killed anyone. Never shot a gun. Forget MacGuyver.
I'm talking about these guys:
The Mythbusters. I saw an episode where they rigged a cop car to be run with a remote control. How could that not be useful in a zombie war? Rig that thing with some explosives and you've got a way to lure them away from your camp and blow them to pieces. Mythbusters, I choose you.
Three: Mace Windu
Check it.
Surviving the zombie war isn't all about the fight. If it gets bad enough (and when planning for scenarios like this, you expect the worst) we'll be away from society for a long, long time. It's possible we'll be the last bastion of hope for a burgeoning new human civilization. For the kind of long-term planning, we need a lady's touch (and, let's face it, some wombs.)
For straight up know-how, including some handy healing, defense, and just time-saving help around the start-up community, you could do much worse than Hermione Granger. Who needs a doctor on hand when she can throw together some quick bone-mending charms? Sure, Harry gets all the press, but in the end, it's Granger who knows the spells and the knowledge to back them up. She knows some stuff about just about everything. When it comes to a wizarding representative (and hottie), she's my choice.
Oh yeah, we'll need them too:
Because, you know, they play field hockey. They can smash zombie noggins with those sticks. That's why. Why the Argentinians? It was the first team to come up when I googled "Field Hockey," that's why.
Really, and women's field hockey team will do (I'm leaning towards the Swedes, personally.)
Finally, since I'm tired and it's bedtime, here's my final choice. I think this'll pretty much seal the deal. We need crops, he's our man.
