Time to pay the fiddler, whore!
I wanted to suggest a few new ideas for those white-on-black message from God billboards, but I just keep coming back to the same one:
YOU KNOW THAT THING ABOUT NOT DOING YOUR NEIGHBOR'S WIFE? WELL, FUCK IT! GIVE THAT ASS A SMACK FOR ME!
-The G Dawg
Other possible signatures could include Gizzawd, Godd, The Almiggitymighty, G Diggity, and YHWHizzle. (some of these ideas come courtest of G Dogg's righthand man, Goathizzity for Shizzity).
Anyone remember the Indy Jones and Last Crusade game for the NES? I played the hell out of that thing (the tank battle was either particularly vexing or particularly fun, I can't remember which). Near the end you have to walk across the bridge of crumbling letters, spelling out "Jehovah" as you go. Now, there were two points of confusion here:
1) I had no idea how the hell to spell Jehovah.
2) In the movie, Indy almost falls to his doom because he forgets that in the Latin alphabet, Jehovah starts with an I.
So I trundled my tubby child arse out to the back porch, where my dad was repairing televisions and other manner of electronics.
"Hey," I said (and you have to imagine my little whiny kid voice), "how do you spell Jehovah?"
To which he, of course, asked "Why?"
My explanation—I'm trying to get to the Holy darn Grail, gosh!—didn't seem sufficient, but he told me anyway (as you may know, he used to be a preacher, which qualifies him to spell Jehovah).
So I went back into the bedroom, where meagan and her half-brother were waiting. And I stepped on I, and fell to my doom. Then I decided that I would just go with English and use a J, and I saved the day. Well, almost—I had to choose the grail, which, as I recall, was a bit more difficult than it is in the movie, even with no Arian temptress to distract me. But at that age, I would have been more distracted by a bologna sammich.
So, as some of you know, I am moving this week. The apartment: a two-bedroom. The roommate: my girlfriend. The apartment is divided into sections, with my room being "Fedual Japan" and the kitchen being "The Year 2462." As in, "I'm traveling to the year 2462 for some coffee." Any other sort of designation is outlawed, and will be swiftly punished with karate chop action.
This apartment movery also explains why I will not be around much this week—it's really quite a bitch moving an entire apartment's worth of accumulated junk forty minutes across town. (That's about twenty minutes from ryan, I think). So I will probably not go out Thursday, and very likely won't see anyone until this weekend at the very earliest, although that's the carpet-shampooing/vacuuming, window-cleaning, wall-scrubbing, etc day. Also, my parents are coming up. I'm a bit concerned about how they'll take my girl-living-withing. But my dad seems cool about it.
For John, since Goathead didn't make it to Amber: I've decided it's not for me. Although it was good to see everyone again, I'm not much of an RPGer. I think it's the time issue—last week I went there straight from work and didn't get home until collapsing-into-bed time. But I will miss Ghostwheel, who was by far the coolest character. I wrote an obit for my character, something along the lines of:
"While Ghostwheel was distracted, Bastardo! the Beggar rifled through his pockets in search of a few happy pills. He accidentally popped rat poison, and died."
Or, if happier endings are preferrred:
"Confused and disoriented, Bastardo! thought he saw Ghostwheel's halo flickering above a nearby stream, beckoning him to come in. Which he did, and was promptly eaten by a whale who'd lost its way. The whale became beached in the shallow water and died, but not until digesting the beggar."
YOU KNOW THAT THING ABOUT NOT DOING YOUR NEIGHBOR'S WIFE? WELL, FUCK IT! GIVE THAT ASS A SMACK FOR ME!
-The G Dawg
Other possible signatures could include Gizzawd, Godd, The Almiggitymighty, G Diggity, and YHWHizzle. (some of these ideas come courtest of G Dogg's righthand man, Goathizzity for Shizzity).
Anyone remember the Indy Jones and Last Crusade game for the NES? I played the hell out of that thing (the tank battle was either particularly vexing or particularly fun, I can't remember which). Near the end you have to walk across the bridge of crumbling letters, spelling out "Jehovah" as you go. Now, there were two points of confusion here:
1) I had no idea how the hell to spell Jehovah.
2) In the movie, Indy almost falls to his doom because he forgets that in the Latin alphabet, Jehovah starts with an I.
So I trundled my tubby child arse out to the back porch, where my dad was repairing televisions and other manner of electronics.
"Hey," I said (and you have to imagine my little whiny kid voice), "how do you spell Jehovah?"
To which he, of course, asked "Why?"
My explanation—I'm trying to get to the Holy darn Grail, gosh!—didn't seem sufficient, but he told me anyway (as you may know, he used to be a preacher, which qualifies him to spell Jehovah).
So I went back into the bedroom, where meagan and her half-brother were waiting. And I stepped on I, and fell to my doom. Then I decided that I would just go with English and use a J, and I saved the day. Well, almost—I had to choose the grail, which, as I recall, was a bit more difficult than it is in the movie, even with no Arian temptress to distract me. But at that age, I would have been more distracted by a bologna sammich.
So, as some of you know, I am moving this week. The apartment: a two-bedroom. The roommate: my girlfriend. The apartment is divided into sections, with my room being "Fedual Japan" and the kitchen being "The Year 2462." As in, "I'm traveling to the year 2462 for some coffee." Any other sort of designation is outlawed, and will be swiftly punished with karate chop action.
This apartment movery also explains why I will not be around much this week—it's really quite a bitch moving an entire apartment's worth of accumulated junk forty minutes across town. (That's about twenty minutes from ryan, I think). So I will probably not go out Thursday, and very likely won't see anyone until this weekend at the very earliest, although that's the carpet-shampooing/vacuuming, window-cleaning, wall-scrubbing, etc day. Also, my parents are coming up. I'm a bit concerned about how they'll take my girl-living-withing. But my dad seems cool about it.
For John, since Goathead didn't make it to Amber: I've decided it's not for me. Although it was good to see everyone again, I'm not much of an RPGer. I think it's the time issue—last week I went there straight from work and didn't get home until collapsing-into-bed time. But I will miss Ghostwheel, who was by far the coolest character. I wrote an obit for my character, something along the lines of:
"While Ghostwheel was distracted, Bastardo! the Beggar rifled through his pockets in search of a few happy pills. He accidentally popped rat poison, and died."
Or, if happier endings are preferrred:
"Confused and disoriented, Bastardo! thought he saw Ghostwheel's halo flickering above a nearby stream, beckoning him to come in. Which he did, and was promptly eaten by a whale who'd lost its way. The whale became beached in the shallow water and died, but not until digesting the beggar."
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