|
|
 |
 |
Say Hello To My Little Friend!
Dirty Cock-a-roaches
I would like to think that if I ever rise to the head of a large criminal organization I will surround myself with henchmen who are intelligent but not ambitious and ruthless but not psychopathic. These henchmen will at all times have heartbeat sensors on them. That way when they are silently killed by the ninjas that have been sent to attack me, I'll still know about it. I might also have them wear little bells. You know, like cats do. That way I know if they're trying to sneak up on me.
It shouldn't be a problem to staff the headquarters of my crime syndicate. There seems to be no real lack of henchmen to do one's bidding. Rarely have I seen a gangster film where the main characterts are not surrounded by all assortments of weapon-wielding thugees. It's not a bad life, when you think about it. Your main job is basically to stand around with a machine gun for about eighty minutes. Then, with about ten minutes left in the film the action sequence will start. That's pretty much the end of the road for you though. You're just not going to live past the climactic shootout scene if your name is "Criminal #13".
Say goodnight to the bad guy
When I am head of this organization, I will take great pains to eliminate people who are generally considered to be insane. Anyone with a nickname that involves "mad", "crazy" or "sick" gets popped real quick-like. No matter how much they are revered by their peers for their craziness, they will have an accident. One thing that you don't need when you are a prime target is one of your guys randomly deciding to take offense at something that another bosse's henchmen says. This can only lead to tears, bloodshed and your eventual capture or demise.
And speaking of capture, that's one thing that I would plan to avoid. These criminals always seem to be arrested on tax evasion charges. Well, that's just no good. My plan would be to set up some shell company whose cover story is internet gambling. This gambling site would have dummy players who would stop by and convienently lose millions of dollars on a regular basis. Then, you know what, I'd go ahead and pay the damn taxes. Yeah, that's right. I'd pay the taxes. Hell, in that bracket and with a decent lawyer I'd only be paying about $5 annually anyway, so what do I care. Everyone is happy in this situation. The government gets their money, I get my money, and nobody goes to prison
I always tell the truth. Even when I lie.
I will also be sure to not sink into a downward spiral of despair, drugs and alcohol. I will not be melancholy and depressed whilst sitting atop my jewel-encrusted Throne of Power. There will be no binge-drinking alcholoism or inebriated shouting. There's just no point in it. Instead of self-destruction, why not try channeling that energy into something positive. You know, like basketmaking or needlepoint? Something that you can be proud of!
Saldy I don't think that I'm cut out to be the head of a ring of international drug smugglers. It seems like a lot of work. Always having to order people's executions. Eating Italian food all the time. Reloading my gun after spraying bullets everywhere. I think I'd rather just sit in an office chair and write code. Less effort.
Posted at 11:41 am by plki76
I'm only happy when it rains
Here comes the rain again
I live in a city where it rains approximately 200 days out of every year. The rain is a constant companion, kind of comforting in a way. No matter what else happens in life, you can always be sure that those ugly grey clouds are just around the corner, waiting to restore normalcy to life.
The constant rain does have its advantages. The number of depressed people in Seattle is low, because they just don't last that long. The sunlight and the uplifting moods that it brings means that distraught people in California can hang on for months or even years before they finally succumb or get better, but up here they're either getting help or taking the plunge right quick. Plus, there's the savings on sunscreen to take into account. That's gotta add up to at least five, maybe six dollars every year. So, like I said, there are perks.
Raindrops are falling on my head
However, there are also a few downsides. The most annoying downside is the fact that people cannot seem to figure out how to drive when it rains. It's odd, too, since it rains so often. One would expect them to have ample amounts of driving experience in wet weather conditions and be confident in their skills. I would expect people to be cruising around town at 90 miles per hour and power-drifting around corners like some kind of Rally Car driver on crack.
Instead what we get is people who refuse to take their car out of second gear and plod along at approximately thirty miles an hour. If they see a puddle up ahead they will immediately slam on the brakes, lest they go through the puddle only to discover that the road has washed out. Even though the previous ninety cars ahead of them went through without incident, it's better to be safe than sorry. You never know when a sudden sinkhole will appear.
This is especially frustrating when one is riding a motorcycle. My crotch slowly accumulates water as I manhandle the clutch for miles on end behind these drivers. Since they have no concept of how the defogger on their car works, they change lanes without bothering to look, preferring to rely instead on the wisdom of Mr. Kenobi to get them through the day. By the time I get home there is a family of goldfish living in my boxer shorts and my heart is thumping like a motel six headboard.
Singing in the rain
I think that the driving test out here should reflect actual road conditions. None of this "make three left turns and try not to run anyone over while you do it" crap. No, take people out to a track and spray a firehose at their windshield as they attempt to slalom and parallel park. While they're doing that, have little old ladies in huge beater cars come careening at them from random angles while screaming their death kell. Anyone that can't take the pressure is denied a driver's license until they get it right.
Posted at 01:52 pm by plki76
Happy 4th
This fourth of July has been a pretty good one for the penguin clan. Not only do we celebrate another anniversary of our ninja minions liberating this fine country from the oppressive regieme of those brutish British, but my sister has birthed her second child. Thus our numbers are bolstered as little Evan Ryan Penguin joins this universe as a separate entity.
Current reports indicate that all he really does so far is cry and poop. Although this does put him roughly on par with our president, I do expect little Evan to expand his repritoire to include vital living functions such as opening his eyes, gurgling and complaining about slow drivers.
Little Evan weighed approximately nine pounds at birth, which I hear is a lot. Doesn't seem like all that much to me though. Just today in fact a tiny Japanese man ate seventeen pounds of intestines stuffed with calf brains and pig snouts. Seventeen pounds of what can only loosley be called meat compared to a mere nine pounds of baby flesh. I think we have a clear winner.
You don't always get what you wanted
My sister originally did not want the Evster to be born on July 4th. This is because she is a kill-joy. Mothers are like that you know. No fun at all. Who wouldn't want to have their birthday on the fourth? Every year you get fireworks and parties. Every year people celebrate the day of your birth with much fanfare and carousing. It's like a free ego boost once a year. "All this is for me", one can imagine. "Yes. Light the fireworks and make merry with the music. I shall allow you to honor me in your own quaint peaseant way. Celebrate! Celebrate, my minions! Celebrate and let the heavens shake with the fury of your adorement! LET THERE BE LIGHT!" Or maybe it's just me. Could be just me.
Regardless, Mac Daddy E is a little patriotic bundle of joy. Or at least a patriotic poop factory. Viva la Evan!
Posted at 12:49 am by plki76
My xbox is so dirrrr-teee!
Like a zombie, it just. won't. die.
I was flipping through the channels the other night and managed to catch some kind of talk show on ESPN. They were discussing the effect of video games on children, specifically the impact that unsavory elements in sports-related video games have on the kids that play them. The theory was that a child who sees Derek Jeter kick The Big Unit in his big unit will mimic this behavior in his own backyard game.
Of course, most sports games don't really have that much violence in them (other than boxing or wrestling of course. That would kind of defeat the purpose). Even the more violent sports don't really encourage fisticuffs. The NHL has mandated that any video game about hockey cannot have more than 1.5 fights per game. No, seriously. Heck, these days motorcycle races have more fights than the average hockey game.
A little late to the ball
ESPN had to stretch a little to fill up the entire time slot. Since there wasn't enough violence in games, they talked about how in NBA Ballerz you could hook up with beautiful women. I'm not sure if the people behind the show ever watch the headlines, but basketball players and women are not exactly strangers to one another. Someone ask Wilt the Stilt if he things being a basktball player improved his luck with the ladies. I think the answer is pretty clear.
The final game highlighted as salicious was Backyard NFL, where the players can... And this is going to shock you... *Engage in excess celebrations*! That's right. You apparently get points for celebrating after a touchdown! Disgraceful! What kind of perverted world do we live in when video games will reward people for expressing themselves? It's a travesty. A travesty I tell you.
The issue of violece in video games isn't even a new debate. Kudos for ESPN for managing to jump on the 'video games are bad' bandwagon a mere twenty years too late. Cutting-edge journalism, that. Republicans had a fit, Congress had hearings, and in the end a ratings system was enacted. Shockingly enough, this has not led to a wholesale decrease in violent offenses by minors.
Smoke em out, smoke em out, wayyy out!
Then today I pick up my copy of Game Developers Magazine and read an article about how lawmakers in California have declared video games to be worse to children than smoking. I would expect this kind of rhetoric from the legislature of South Carolina, where tobacco is a man's best friend, but California? WTF is up with those hippies these days? I'm embarassed to say that I'm from that state these days. It's getting to the point where I'm almost ready to start saying I was born in Alabama.
Regardless, I decided that I had a great game guarenteed to generate a ton of publicity. It's called "Puff Puff Revolution", the worlds first smoking simulator. The entire point of the game will be to defeat various hard-core conservatives and liberals by blowing large clouds of smoke at them. This will be achieved by puffing on the unfiltered Marlboro Reds that the game provides and blowing your exhaust at a special sensor that will detect how much damage you've done to your lungs since the game started.
If this game does well I plan to follow it up with "NBA Smackjunkie" and "Steroid Fighter II Championship Edition".
Posted at 02:58 pm by plki76
From my sister
Come and peep at voyeuristic penguins!
Because it's funny
Here are two pictures from the beach party yesterday of me digging a volleyball. Note the look of concentration, the superb form, the fact that I have so much passion for the game that I literally jumped *out of my shoes*. Also note that in the second picture the ball is, in fact, going up.
That's right, I made the hit man. I kept that ball alive. That's mad love baby. I'm not a hater, so don't you be. But if you gotta hate, don't hate the player... Hate the GAME.
Cue the Kenny Loggins...
Posted at 05:24 pm by plki76
|
 |
|
 |
|
 |
|
|
|
