Sunday, November 6, 2011

11 Ridiculous Armies I've Used To Beat StarCraft Computer Players

A long time ago, I wrote an article about Dragonball Z and the terrible things that resulted from stupid decisions from a wide variety of characters. It was beautiful. Ladies from across the land flocked to read that inspiring piece of writing, because apparently women are wild animals in my mind. I actually have no knowledge of women whatsoever, so I'm just assuming that's how they behave. Anyway, everything was going so well, until someone dropped a piece of criticism that forced me to confront a dark truth. I neglected to provide any backstory in the article, so only I really knew what I was talking about. I realized in that moment that a lot of people just don't watch Dragonball Z, though I can't imagine why not.

He's either casting a spell, or threatening to tickle someone's nipples

Since then in all of my writings, when I deem necessary, I'm into describing things in great detail. Partly because I do want my writing to be accessible to anyone except my parents, but mostly because when you describe things vividly, the frequency of dick jokes in your writing goes up by about 30%, which is very befitting for me. So for those of you who have no idea what StarCraft is, you're welcome. Now, for those of you who do know what StarCraft is, you may be surprised to know that there a lot of people who don't even know what StarCraft is. Don't feel bad, deprived people. I think it's acceptable not to be familiar with StarCraft if you live in any country besides South Korea, because over there, it may actually be legal for someone to murder you.

StarCraft is a real time strategy game where you craft stuff on stars, sort of. What the term "real time strategy" or "RTS" basically means is, you sit on a cloud and stare down at a tiny world, construct buildings and order little conscripts to destroy shit. In the case of StarCraft, these little conscripts can range from giant space war ships, to guys that can summon violent electrical storms with their minds, to enormous spiked vaginas that either float or can burrow underground. It's sort of like Monopoly if everything was on fire and you could literally drop a nuclear bomb on Boardwalk if they put a hotel on it, or drown them in Water Works.

Then hide their body in the community chest

Even though the game has been out for over a decade, it never seems to lose its charm. I still find myself popping in the disc every now and then and playing a few games. However, the experience can get a little stale after doing the same strategies for several years. I needed something different. I needed a challenge. But most importantly, I needed to be bored. Normally when I'm bored I just put a towel over my penis and pretend it's a ghost, but instead, one day, my boredom took the form of a question. "What would that base look like covered in fire?"

So to honour a game that let us play with so many possibilities, I took the most absurd options available, amassed enormous armies of them, then wasted my life attempting to beat lifeless computer players in the hopes of amusing the two or three people who may read this. I've provided a replay pack for StarCraft players, which you'll be able to find at the very bottom of this article, which is fun because actually getting there via scroll bar is a lot like descending a gorge. I've also provided youtube videos for anyone and everyone who is interested to see what this all looks like.

 
11. Reavers
I'll just get this out of the way now. Reavers are essentially giant, fat, slithering dicks. I could have described them as enormous snakes encased in armor, but y'know, the whole dick jokes thing. Anyway, when I started this project, reavers were the first unit I wanted to try, because I'd never done it before, and it sounded really funny. I also thought it was going to be challenging, because there's a lot of problems associated with reavers.

The buildings that you need to produce reavers cost a fair amount of money, the reavers themselves cost a lot, then they take a little while to build, then you have to pay to actually arm the things, and finally, they move slower than a priest's sex life. Originally I wanted to move them around on their own, but then quickly realized my family and friends might be concerned about me if I didn't leave my room for several weeks. Charging from one side of the map is less "charging" and more along the lines of awkwardly cheering for a fat kid in a track meet. Heaven help you if you want to move a large number of these dim bastards down a narrow path. It's like watching a crowd of women when they see Robert Pattinson. It's nothing but an uncoordinated, confused, rage-fueled orgy, and occasionally a few of them will apparently stop to eat grass.


Om nom nom

On the plus side, reavers deal enormous amounts of damage with a single attack. 125 points of damage with a simple upgrade, to be precise, which is enough to level most structures in a few shots. The attack also deals out splash damage, so if there's anything within close proximity of the target, it will either be reduced to ribbons or be severely injured. It's like firing a cannon at someone's house. The house is the clear target, but you are guaranteed to fuck up at least one piece of furniture as well.

Anyway, I solved the problem of moving reavers around on their own by building these things called shuttles, and flew the reavers from base to base, which made things faster. But even then, shuttles are fairly weak and reavers can't shoot air units, so I was very interested to see where they would end up on this list. Then my first attack completely obliterated an enemy base within seconds. Something occured to me then: reavers are fucking unstoppable. Here's the heart of an enemy base, rich with life:


Here it is again moments after my attack:



So it turned out to be fairly simple in the end, but at least now I know that nothing lasts very long against a sea of angry dick monsters.



 
10. Ghosts
Before you fill in the blanks on the appearance of the ghost, I should tell you that the ghost is just a guy in a fancy suit that didn't survive death in a non-physical form, and thus doesn't possess any other-worldy qualities, so I'm not sure where the name comes from. Not that that should be considered a fault, mind you. Every ghost I've ever known is a little bitch, like that happy ass ghost Casper. Although in fairness, the ghost is a lot like Casper, if Casper had the ability to freeze mechanical units with a missile, summon nuclear warheads and had a personal... cloaking field... Come to think of it, that's probably where the name came from.

So, ghosts are known for their special abilities. Four or five of them can be absolutely lethal if you know how to use them properly. Hell, just one of them can ruin someone's day if they aren't careful, like a bird shitting on your head. You never see ghosts in a massive attack force, because there's a couple drawbacks to doing it. First off, they're incredibly weak. They can't take more than a couple shots before being grounded into pasta, like if a small child ever joined the UFC. Second, their sniper rifle is about as effect against just about everything in the game as stopping an asteroid with a staple gun.

But as I learned, the ghost becomes a fairly effective unit when you find yourself with about 150 of them at your immediate disposal. I was expecting this to take far longer than it did being that the ghost is so weak, but then I ended up shitting all over every single base I entered harder than a lactose intolerant who loves cheese. I could almost feel the game world begin to tilt under the weight of their massive balls.



 
9. Vultures
The vulture is pretty easy to describe. It's a little race car with a rude, boorish douchebag inside of it. The vulture is fast as hell, is cheap to build, is very effective against light units like say, ghosts, or workers (which I'll describe later), and each individual vulture can lay three "spider mines". Spider mines are essentially land mines, but when these mines spring from the ground and explode (after a unit walks within a certain proximity), they'll leap a short distance and then explode, dealing out enormous damage to units, but not buildings, something I still can't figure out. It makes sense from a balance stand point, but makes no sense from a realistic stand point. How does an explosion not harm a building? Is it like a selective explosive or something? Although I suppose we abandoned realism around the time Tassadar flew a space ship into a giant talking eyeball.



The vulture does have its disadvantages. It's pretty weak, does very little damage to heavier units like tanks, and does virtually nothing to buildings. Not to mention it can't shoot air units, so sending a pack of these things into an enemy base is a great way to see what the inside of a paper shredder basically looks like, and far more entertaining. But I disregarded all the negatives, figuring they would hold no meaning when I was driving hundreds of vultures into a base. To an extent I was correct, but my god these things take a long time to destroy an entire base. It was like trying to demolish a city block by throwing bits of rolled up newspaper at each building.



 
8. Firebats
When you say "firebat" out loud, am I the only one who immediately thinks of something like this?

Is it too late to pitch this sketch to Blizzard?

That's almost as bad as the time my girlfriend and I went to the Calgary zoo, saw the bats and I said, "Look, they keep pokemon here. It's a Zubat!". I intend for her to regret spending several years in my company. Anyway, the firebat looks nothing like that, it's just a dude who carries two flamethrowers and references fire more than necessary. If you click on him or move him around he'll say shit like, "Let's burn!" or "Fired up!" or "Wanna hurt up the heat?". Basically a collection of phrases useful for encouraging arson, or making your partner feel awkward during sex. Personally whenever I want to service that ambition, I just start playing with my belly button, or carefully fold my girlfriend's clothes after I remove them.

Moving on, this is more firebats than ever needed

Now, the firebat is very useful in certain situations, and I feel is generally an undervalued unit, but his efficiency doesn't go up at all in large numbers. In fact he almost seems less efficient, which of course made him an ideal choice for this list. The firebat is easy to finance, but the only way he can attack is by walking straight up to something and setting it on fire, which sounds awesome when you say it out loud, but isn't very effect against air units, or units with any kind of range attack, like basically everything else in the game. But thankfully the firebat shares my out look on life in that there isn't a problem that can't be solved by being set on fire, and eventually my wall of fire conquered. It was kinda like Independence Day played in slow-motion.



 
7. Photon Cannons and Sunken Colonies
There's a famous quote that goes, "The best defence is a good offense." After this ordeal, I'd suggest adjusting the wording slightly to something along the lines of, "The best defence is a good offense... eventually." In StarCraft, it's not just units that can attack, certain structures have that ability as well. So you've probably seen Star Trek before. You ever heard Kirk or Picard say, "Arm photons!"? The photon cannon is that, but the photons come out of a cannon. It's the same fucking thing is what I'm saying. Sunken colonies, however, are just begging for dick jokes, but I honestly think they're better described as giant tongues that whip spikes at shit, or headbutt things to death at close range. Seriously:


*WHACK*

Photon cannons in particular are no stranger to being used as an offensive tool, but only in small numbers. Not often in competitive games do you see players eager to make their entire army consist of them. This is where I come in. The photon cannon can shoot ground and air units, but has several disadvantages. You have to build them in proximity to these things called pylons (like all protoss buildings except two, including the pylon itself), and they take a little while to build, so they're vulnerable in that time. They can only shoot a short range too, so if an asshole computer has tanks, well, you're kinda screwed. Unless you're a cheater like me, of course:


Don't lie, you would have done the same thing

So I would kill any ranged unit immediately, then slowly move my wall of cannons forward until they would consume a base.



Sunken colonies are a little more difficult to use than photon cannons, because sunken colonies can only be built on "creep", which is that weird gray scaley looking stuff surrounding them:



With photon cannons you can build a pylon wherever you want, but if you want some creep, you either have to build something called a hatchery which takes forever (meaning the computer players can kill it while it's building), or slowly expand your creep by continually building creep colonies (which you can morph into sunken colonies). I took column B for this one. Sunken colonies can't shoot air units though, so it's possible to have an entire field of them thwarted by a single air unit. Thankfully you can also morph creep colonies into spore colonies which, well, literally look like assholes:


I had little need for them though, considering I cheated again and killed just about every range and air unit with a mass of flying units, enabling my ever expanding field of tongues to slowly cockslap my enemies to death, however that makes sense in your mind. I'm curious now if this is similar to how the prison system operates in Japan.





 
6. Arbiters
I know what you're thinking. "My god, I've been reading this article for so long I could legally be considered dead, and he's barely half way done." Well, however long it takes you to finish reading this, I guarantee I spent longer making arbiters. Massing arbiters is difficult for a number of reasons, but it's weird for me personally because after playing Halo 2 so much, whenever I think of "building an arbiter", I always picture this dude:


"How many bitch asses would you have your Arbiter kick, Prophets?"

Arbiters are an aerial unit that cloak every unit around it (except itself), have the ability to freeze units for a short period of time and teleport your units places. One of the biggest problems with arbiters, however, is that they're expensive. One or two is reasonable, but when you want a massive army of them, they add up. They also take about as long to build as raising a child to high school, then they attack so goddamn slow and do very little damage. Mainly because you can't build very many of them because they soak up your supply something fierce (supply is basically a limit to how many units you can build). There's one thing you want to avoid when massing arbiters: having to do it twice. So naturally I had to do it several times.

Yet, as tedious and awful as the experience was, it was oddly satisfying to continually freeze the computer's army then slowly pick away at his base, like throwing pebbles at someone tied to a chair.

I should tell you that I wasn't describing the replay file/video I have, but a past experience. The video I have is me locking a zerg opponent in his base then murdering him. My actual experience with massing arbiters was about as painful as taking off one of my socks, then kicking an anvil as hard as I can. I would rather have dental work done on my eyeballs than do that again.



 
5. Infested Terrans
Out of every unit on this list, Infested Terrans were what I was looking forward to making the most. Partly because their only purpose in life is to run at whatever you tell them to and explode, which is hilarious, but mostly because they look like ant eaters:


I'm not sure why that was a selling point for me, but there ya go

You never see infested terrans when you're playing, which is such a shame, but understandable. Here's what you have to do to get an infested terran. First, you play as the Zerg:



You have to be playing against a Terran:



Then you get yourself a Queen, which is basically a flying ass cheek:



Then you damage the Terran's Command Center:



When it's been damaged enough, you fly your queen in and infest the shit out of it:



Congratulations, you can now build infested terrans one at a time! As you can see they're not exactly the most tactical unit, but simple things that made sense weren't on my mandate, so I had to try this out. Of course, my goal was to amass an army of these bastards, so my road to doing that took a little bit longer. First, I played as the Protoss:



Then I made these things called Dark Archons:



The dark archon has an ability called "Mind Control" (more on this later), which I used to steal a drone from the zerg computer player, and an scv from the terran player. Essentially, I now had the ability to play as all three races at once. After a little while, I ended up with this:



So I went around and damaged every single one of those command centers, and then infested every last one.


Amazingly yes, I do get laid often

I now had the ability to mass infested terrans. It was only at this point did I realize that after playing this game since the day it was released, I had never actually used infested terrans. I figured it would be pretty straight forward. Point them at something I wanted to die horribly. But it turns out infested terrans are kind of retarded, which I guess I should have seen coming since they look like vomit that achieved sentience. If you send an infested terran to attack in some general direction, he won't just attack everything along the way like normal units do. He'll run straight by a building or whatever is shooting at him, pause, THEN explode. As I also discovered, if you're clumsy, they'll also be kind enough to run into a dense cluster of their own kind and detonate. I also discovered if you direct them to a random part of the map with the attack command, they will reach the destination, then explode. So at the very least, the infested terran is loyal, albeit a bit counter productive.


But if you point at exactly what you want them to kill, so long as it's not an air unit, that bitch is going to die. There's no question of that. Why? Look at how much damage these fuckers do:



So it took a while to actually make the army, but it was worth it to march hundreds of these portable nukes into a base and watch it disappear.



 
4. Defilers
Those of you who know StarCraft well may be thinking at this point, "Wait... Defilers...?" Some of you may have figured it out already. But for those who have no idea what defilers are, let me explain. They're a strange mix of a scorpion and a centipede, and are constantly fucking the ground:
                                                             

But why would people who know the game have reason to scratch their heads? That thing looks menacing enough. Well, the defiler doesn't actually have an attack. It does have special abilities though, including the ability to create a small cloud around your units (which makes it so the enemy can't shoot at them accurately), and the ability to eat other zerg units for energy. It's a lot like how humans gain super powers after digesting caffeine. It also has an ability called "Plague" which inflicts constant damage on the target, whether it be a unit or a building, but it doesn't actually kill anything out right. So what's the point of massing an army of these things if they can't really do anything? By remembering basic mechanics.

In StarCraft, it doesn't matter if you have a giant standing army. If every one of your buildings is destroyed, you lose the game. If you play as Terran and your buildings go below a certain health, eventually they will burn down. You can repair the buildings to avoid that, but repairing costs money, and eventually you run out of money. What can the defiler do that inflicts damage? That's right, baby.

It can spray ketchup on stuff!

The defiler was the first unit on this list that I had no choice but to make in large numbers. Plague costs a lot of energy, and there was no way I was going to the trouble of having one defiler eat all of my units to cast it once every five seconds. That's just silly. Besides, the poor guy would get all fat. No, it was much more practical to just make a bunch of them and plague the shit out of my poor terran opponent. Although I suppose it would be more practical to just go outside, but fuck that. I have an army of wiggle monsters to make and something to melt to death.

This was kind of disquieting, honestly. I waited until this guy ran out of money then slowly watched all of his buildings burn to the ground while he could do nothing. I also locked the bastard in his own base and prevented him from flying away. It was like locking someone in a cell and farting at them until they die.



 
3. Workers (Probes, Drones, SCVs)
Workers are the first and only unit you have at the beginning of a game. If you play as Zerg, you start off with Drones. If you play as Terran, you start off with SCVs, which aren't a mix of a truck and a jeep. They're just black dudes in suits of armor forced to do endless physical labour, with the possibility of horrible death looming over their heads. Is anyone else getting the very possibly slightly racist vibe, or is it just me?


And finally, if you play as Protoss, you start off with Probes, which surprisingly, but fortunately don't go in someone's anus. All you do with these units is get money and build structures. You can attack with them in certain situations, but if your army consists entirely of them, well you must be one sexy son of a bitch with nothing better to do with your time.

MUWAHAHAHAHAHA!

As you can see, I did the Mind Control thing again so I could play as all three races, and nearly tripled the size of my slow, confused, generally useless army. Workers can't attack air units, but can attack ground units and structures in a fashion similar to the firebat, except minus the fire. Probes and SCVs slowly zap things to death with these adorable little cattle prods, while the drones spit acid on things, something that reminds me of most women I know when they're mad. The counter for this army is just about anything behind a wall, but computer players are stupid and don't defend for shit, so I could just waltz right in and begin the slow devestation.

I would say that my massive army was extremely or oddly effective, but I'll never really know because much like the arbiter, I tried this before and failed miserably, so I played against a dumbass computer player instead. Seriously, what a fuckin' idiot:



I realize this may not be as impressive as it could be, but you're welcome to try this yourself and end up choking your computer to death. But even if this dumb bastard did construct some sort of defense, when you carpet an enemy base with over 500 units, it lags the game to shit and the computer player can't really do anything about it. Watching workers attack in absurd numbers is like watching a pack of children surround and beat the shit out of a birthday clown. It's as much adorable as it is cruel.




 
2. Dark Archons
I've mentioned these guys a couple times assisting behind the scenes, but now it's time for them to take the spotlight... sort of. The Dark Archon is part giant furball, part lava lamp, and exists for the sole purpose of being an asshole. In StarCraft terms that makes the dark archon a great addition to an army. The only strategic advantage to having a massive army of them would probably be to force your opponent into leaving the game from sheer confusion. Unless you're me of course, then magic happens.

The dark archon can only attack units with energy, but can't attack other units or buildings. What then is the solution? I've mentioned "Mind Control" a couple times. It's one of the dark archon's special abilities and does exactly what it says. You can fucking possess people, or in other words, you can steal shit. You can steal units from other players. I did it to mass infested terrans and workers, but that was just stealing one unit. With several dark archons, I could steal everything.

So I did.



This was very befitting for me, because I'm a lazy person who adheres to low expectations. I just let a computer player do all the work then stole all his shit, something I would absolutely do if I had telepathic abilities, after convincing women to show me their tits, of course. This was one of the rare scenarios where I could amass an army by not making one. I can only imagine what it must have looked like from his perspective, watching his units turn against him one by one, while a field of flaming balls gazed on. His troops turned on him faster than your family would if you started peeing on the thanksgiving turkey.
 


 
1. Broodlings
We come to it at last. The unit that took home the gold medal, soaring ahead of all competitors in all categories: annoyance, difficulty and absurdity. The Broodling. I honestly don't know why I did this to myself. This was bullshit, and I'll explain why.

The broodling is unique in that it's one of the two units in the game that isn't produced in a building, but is the only one you can actually control. Mr. Broodling comes from ol' flying ass cheek, the queen. I'm not sure where the broodlings come from, exactly. It kinda looks like she spits them out, but then it looks like she shoots them from her ass, but biologically speaking it makes sense to say that it comes from her huge, gaping vagina. I'll just run with that. The queen gives birth to what looks like two little toy cars.



This ability is called "Spawn Broodling". It's actually really cool because you can kill a wide range of units with this ability in one shot, then two little broodlings pop up afterwards just to annoy the other player. They exist purely to poke things for a short period of time in the hopes of causing some kind of damage, similar to how I used to hide lego blocks in the carpets of my brothers rooms, hoping they would step on them. The first thing you need to mass broodlings is a fuck tonne of queens:



Then you can either spawn broodling the shit out of every unit your opponent has to slowly build up your army, or you can just spawn broodling your own units. You can also tediously spawn broodling a broodling, so two broodlings becomes three. There's also the option of saying spawn broodling five times really fast and eventually saying something that resembles "spoon pooping".

Anyway, that's the first problem. You need to spawn these bastards two at a time, but the spawn broodling ability costs a lot of energy, much like the defiler's plague ability. It's a little less painful if you have enough queens equal to the population of china, thankfully, but the broodling can't attack for shit, and it's about as weak as the tinfoil around a baked potato. One of the biggest problems is that these things only live for a couple minutes, so if your army dies because your opponent has any number of units above zero, or because your army explodes before it can finish its job, you have the pleasure of doing it all over again.

Of course, that's all very absurd and difficult in theory. I knew all of the disadvantages beforehand and simply played against a caged terran opponent, who eventually gave way under the might of my broodlings. Unfair, I guess, but still way more funny than it should be. I would have attempted this fairly, but seriously, fucking broodlings? Attempting this fairly could only result in one of two things. Either I would drown my computer with the Brood War disc inside, or literally eat my own face.

 


I hope we all learned an important lesson today, or over the course of the week, depending on how long it took you to read all of this. Stupidity is the answer to boredom, at least when it comes to gaming. I wouldn't recommend applying that logic elsewhere in life. Now a lot of you may be wondering, will I be doing this in StarCraft 2? I'd give that a solid maybe. If I do decide to do it, it will likely be some time after Blizzard releases the final installment, Legacy of The Void, sometime in 2035, so I'll have every option available to me. I'll probably have a family of my own by then, but I assure that I will promptly neglect them in the name of poor humour. Until then, do enjoy me nuking the tits off of this computer player:



 
Replay Pack (.rar file, you'll need WinRAR to extract the files)
http://www.mediafire.com/?9vvqrh4j4l3sz3p

Lastly, I put all of the youtube videos into their own playlist, for easier viewing:


Monday, September 12, 2011

The wonders of Xbox Live account creation

(I wrote this in the summer of 2010, so Halo 3 is long gone for me, as well as the account I made. Just FYI.)


So, I play Halo a bunch, mainly Halo 3 multiplayer, though I haven't been playing very much recently. You see, Halo and I have an off and on relationship. Sometimes it will entertain me and keep me happy for a couple months, then other times, it bores me. Now is one of the latter times. Turning on my console and actually having to try against my opponents, while my teammates are either beating their controllers to death with hammers or trying to eat them, is not my idea of fun.




You paid for a subscription to stand still and lose constantly... Cool!



I was taking a break from Halo for awhile, and decided to buy Team Fortress 2 for a friend so we could play that sexy ass game together. Sadly I realized too late that my computer is a useless bucket of asscrack and has randomly decided not to run the game properly anymore, despite running it flawlessly only days ago, so I can't play with him until I fix this fucking garbage for the ninth time (I've been counting). But for my generosity, my friend paid me back with a subscription for a three month account on xbox live. I can't game on the PC for awhile so I said, "Fuck it, might as well play Halo." So here I am making a new account.

Getting a new account on xbox live is wonderful. Instead of actually having to concentrate somewhat and strain my genius brain while I'm playing, I can fire up my xbox anytime I want and play against people who have no idea what they're doing. Actually it's less "playing against" and more along the lines of a complete ass kicking. Mowing down an entire team is a great stress reliever. There's something disquietingly satisfying about completely outclassing someone and ruining their day online. I don't get a lot of opportunities to be cool.

The only problem is actually getting there. At least it was today. I've never had any problems with account creation until today. Microsoft lead me into a false sense of security, then struck with increasingly bizarre and creepy methods.

 
My gamertag is available, but isn't...
First I check to see if the gamertag I want is taken. I go to the xbox website and Bungie, do a search, nothing comes up. Excellent. I begin making my account. First, you need an e-mail address to sign up for xbox live. I made one prior to this stage, so I was well prepared. I typed it in, thinking of all the extremely loud, stupid children I would soon have ready access to slap around (which would be worrisome on a medium besides the xbox), but was told my e-mail address was invalid. No spelling mistakes, nothing wrong with my password, but my credentials were invalid. What the fuck does that mean? Is my name and birth date unacceptable or something? Granted, I sign up for just about everything as Antonio Banderas, so I guess that could raise some questions.

I shrugged it off, made a new e-mail account and started making the account again. Having now put the previous incident behind me, I was punching in my account anxiously. It worked, and it was now time for me to join xbox live. "Cannot create windows live ID." That message was more confusing than a woman giving birth to a bucket of icecream. I cannot create a windows live ID, when I just punched a valid one in? What the balls is this?

So I made a third e-mail account, this time imagining putting an axe through my television if this one didn't work. Magically it worked, after I somehow managed to make THE EXACT SAME E-MAIL ADDRESS. How does that even make sense? Whatever, I'm getting the account, it doesn't matter. I type in my desired gamertag, only to see this message: "The gamertag you have chosen is already in use on xbox live."

Now you're just being a dick, Microsoft. You too, Bungie. You bastards must have lied to me over your website, then you paid someone to make my account during your absurd account creation process. Thankfully you're all bitches and are unaware that the lower case "L" looks exactly the same as a capital "i", so I was still able to get my gamertag, more or less. Suck it, losers.

 
Invalid existence and code
I could stomach the multiple invalid e-mail addresses, then things just started getting weird. Remember earlier when I jokingly asked if my age and name were unacceptable? Turns out that was actually a valid question, and Microsoft's reply was, "Haha, fuck you." So I just finish punching in my gamertag, and for some reason I'm asked to supply my age again. I type it in and was promptly rejected by xbox live for having an invalid age. I'm not even kidding. Invalid age. How can that be? 21 isn't an invalid age, it's a real number. I'm certain I'm old enough to join xbox live when there's 12 year old children who can join. I decided to type my date of birth in again, the exact same way, and it worked.



My xbox accepting the validity of my age coincided with the arrival of the icecream man driving slowly down my street. I dared not look out the window for fear of seeing a giant serpent driving a little yellow buggy, staring back at me with red, empty eyes. Ok, so my xbox is haunted. Whatever, I've made peace with that, I'm still getting my account, goddamnit. At long last I begin punching in the subscription code, which is a tedious 25 characters long.

"This code is invalid."

Xbox is kind enough to delete the code when it fails, so I had to type it in again just to see if I made any errors, only to have it flash the invalid message again. What happened afterwards is a matter with the proper authorities, but it's possible that I might have strangled several children to death and committed arson. It's a little blurry.

I eventually did get the account to work, which meant I had to go through the entire subscription process again. What was really creepy is that everytime I repeated the process, I was given a completely different starting screen each time. It made no sense. Then when I finally did punch in the code, I was taken to another screen and had to give more of my information to xbox, some of which was frighteningly personal. Stuff like my name and age. Again. You motherfuckers, Microsoft.

Oh, and the problem with the code was the very last digit. A "B" that looked exactly like an 8. So not only did Microsoft creep the ever-loving shit out of me, but kind of made me hate myself. I say "kind of" because the subscription codes are always so fucking small and the font looks like if I tried to write with my left hand after leaving it in the freezer for several hours. But it's all over now, and now I'm going to play the shit out of Halo. If you decide to play on xbox live and get your shit handed to you by "i iove Sushi", I say you send that person hateful messages, because I have no idea who that is. The type of person who delights in making your online experience miserable and humiliating, that's terrible.

Thursday, June 9, 2011

The bathroom in Earls Restaurant is retarded


I miss being a kid. Everything during those years of my life was powered by simplicity, naivety, or sometimes a complete disregard for my well being, but that's a different story. Earls was very simple when I was a kid. It was a restaurant populated by giant women with enormous boobies who would bring me chocolate milk, and I seriously thought it was the only place on the planet that sold chicken fingers and fries. Not much has changed over the years. The women at Earls still have boobies big enough to lose your pet gerbil in, and they still bring me chocolate milk, which eventually makes me pee. My relationship with Earls has never fluctuated until recently when I had to use the bathroom there. Now it's like if Oprah suddenly grew a dick on her forehead. You just couldn't look at her the same way ever again.

I never realized this until I found myself in the bathroom at Earls, but I seriously never use public bathrooms. Ever. It's not simply because most public bathrooms have poop splattered on the wall opposite of the toilets, or because I hate it when there are at least five to ten free urinals, and some guy decides to use the one directly beside me, I just never have to pee or go number two when I'm out in public. No, that delight is usually reserved for my brother's bathroom in the basement. But this trip to Earls was different, it couldn't be avoided. Why you ask? I caught a stomach bug a couple weeks ago and I've been taking frighteningly huge shits ever since, at least two or three times a day. Big, loud, stinky ass bowl fillers. If you'd like a mental picture, the next time you go to the bathroom, imagine an upside down giant jellyfish in your toilet:




So I'm with my girlfriend one night, which is as much uncommon as it is weird, because I spend all my time listening to Led Zeppelin and eating. I'm not sure how she fits into my life exactly, although this does provide an explanation as to who keeps making out with me and massaging my feet while I play videogames. I don't know too much about her, but apparently she gets hungry sometimes. I know, I think it sounds made up too, but in any event, common etiquette dictates that I'm obliged to feed her. The thing is, common etiquette to me is kicking my neighbour's cat into a tree, so this particular day I was like, "Fuck it, let's go to Earls." So we find ourselves in the restaurant when my ass feels like it's on the verge of opening a vent to hell, so I head for the bathroom. The problems with the bathroom presented themselves immediately, before I even stepped foot inside it. Also, before you ask, my girlfriend is with me purely for my charm.

First of all, I couldn't find the damn thing. I knew what general direction to go in, namely towards the sign that said "Washrooms", but as I rounded the corner, I found myself staring directly into the kitchen. I paused for a moment after the entire kitchen staff stopped what they were doing to look at me, like I'd crossed some sort of forbidden boundary, when I noticed some stairs leading to the basement. I looked over at a server just to make sure, and she reassured me in her forced annoying squeak voice that I was actually headed to the bathroom. She sounded like she was trying to talk after just eating a lemon while sitting on a cold toilet seat, or attempting to communicate with a squirrel. I wanted to tell her how creepy and unnecessary that voice was, but my ass was in DEFCON 1, so I darted down those stairs as fast as I could.

The journey took a little longer than I expected because I was walking in that awkward about-to-take-a-shit way that looks like you're trying to walk in a potato sack, but when I finally reached the bottom of the stairs, suddenly everything got cold. On reflection this was probably because I was in the basement, but the tiny lobby I was standing in gave this inscrutable feeling of unease, and this feeling of being utterly alone like suddenly waking up in Silent Hill. To my left was two doors, one unmarked and the other a janitors closet. I stared at both half expecting to hear someone whispering "help me" just before the door knobs started shaking and the walls started bleeding. Thankfully they didn't.

At last I made it to the bathroom. The only trick now was to actually get inside. I've never considered opening a door to be a difficult task before, but the door leading inside was like the fucking gates of Minas Tirith. I started kicking the heavy ass thing to try and get it open, half expecting to hear cheers of relief from anyone clearly trapped inside. At that moment I realized I was sweating profusely, likely from the enormous strain of keeping my ass clenched tighter than a snare drum to contain armageddon for a few moments longer. When I finally did get the door open and stepped inside, it was like a gateway to another dimension. As soon as it shut, two things occured to me. First, the room was completely sound proof, meaning the people in the restaurant above would mostly be spared from the forthcoming onslaught, and secondly, oh fuck, am I going to be able to get out of here?

After that I noticed there was only two stalls, meaning Earls clearly underestimates how badly their food makes people have to shit, and a single urinal. What the fuck is the point of having only one urinal? So the guy waiting behind me can pee on my leg or in my cupped hands? Great thinking, Earls. Although there was a garbage can conveniently placed right beside the urinal, which could serve as an effective urinal in desperate situations. But I wasn't there to shit in the urinal as some people do, I was there to melt a toilet bowl, so I looked to the stalls. I still wasn't sure if there was actually someone in the bathroom with me, or as I would have called him, my unfortunate poopmate. Both of the stall doors were closed, but they were so ridiculously low to the ground I couldn't see underneath them, so I was in the awkward situation where you're not sure if you should knock on the door, or bend over until you see a pair of shoes or a stream of piss that's suspiciously missing the toilet. I looked underneath because I have no shame and saw nothing, so I walked into a stall.

As I mentioned before, the door was very low to the ground, which makes those stalls an ideal fall out shelter for a zombie apocalypse (I think), or more realistically, ensures that some asshole won't lock them from the inside and crawl back out with his dignity intact. The door was also the size of the door leading inside the bathroom itself, so it was nice knowing that unless someone was extremely determined to see my half naked ass, that is, willing to smuggle a trampoline into the bathroom, no one was going to look over the wall. But if someone or some thing casually did, at least I'd know for sure I was going to die. It was at this point that I finally looked at the toilet.

The bowl itself was moderately sized. Small enough to ensure that your ass won't gradually sink in, but if you got an erection it would most certainly touch the cold inside of the bowl, which feels weird. Never go poop when you have a boner, ladies. Anyway, it was almost as low to the ground as the stall door, so who ever designed that bathroom has somehow managed to go his or her whole life without taking a shit. As soon as you sit down your knees are practically right up to your face, so if you happen to squeeze hard enough you'll end up peeing on your own chin. But before I sat down I looked inside the bowl, because that's just what you're supposed to do, and I saw a tiny puddle of water at the bottom. At first I was pleased that water wouldn't splash up on my balls, but then I wondered how this toilet was going to survive. I took comfort in the fact that I wouldn't have to deal with it, so I sat down.

The massacre that took place immediately afterwards was I'm sure responsible for the death of at least one person by radiation poisoning. Either the next person to use the bathroom (at this point it could have been considered a bog), or the person who was forced to clean it. They say second hand smoke is deadly, but the stink that my ass produced was unlike anything I've ever imagined. I wasn't aware my body was capable of something so horrifying. The stench could have choked a full grown horse to death. I'd be very surprised if the bathroom wasn't excavated at least 50 feet deep then filled with cement to ensure that nothing could rise from that accursed land. I began to worry at some point if I could be criminally charged for disturbing the peace or extensive property damage.

The initial fart was so mighty it was like the coming of rapture. Somehow I managed to bring the tiny puddle of water in the bowl high enough to splash my balls after all, and dramatically raise the temperature as well. The colossal force my ass produced may have also created a tiny wave pool at the bottom of the bowl. The initial poop was like the Jericho Missile from Iron Man. During the atrocity, I was half expecting someone to come downstairs to check and see what was making the entire restaurant shake, and I was curious if the smell managed to waft up through the ventilation system and started choking the people sitting at the tables directly above me.

After I was done, I looked down to admire my handy work. What I saw is best described as a giant brain made of steaming poop that appeared to be breathing. I laughed like the sick bastard I am then went to wipe my ass. The damn toilet paper holder dispenser thingy was a foot off the ground so I kept on having to reach way underneath it, and because public bathrooms insist on using that thin ass paper which I'm sure is designed purely to get poop on one of your fingers, I kept accidentally tearing off tiny sheets of paper. They always put those things on so fucking tight too, so you end up clawing at this roll of paper like a cat for half a goddamn hour and getting next to nothing. Waiting for a raccoon to run by to wipe your ass with would be more effective.

After that ordeal was over and my butt was nice and clean, it was time to flush. I half expected the toilet to pathetically try and flush all of that terror down the drain then die, like a small child attempting a 500 pound deadlift. This part was so bizarre, frightening and goddamn hilarious all at once. What the toilet did first was push the mound of poop a little higher, effectively smearing it all over the inside of the bowl, but then holy shit bricks did it flush that motherfucker. It flushed the whole thing at once with such force, you could probably flush an xbox down that thing. Of course after that things got far less funny.

Some genius decided it was a good idea for the stall door to open into the stall, but the stall was so damn small I had to back up until I was standing over the toilet (which at this point made me extremely nervous) before I could finally walk out. When I did, I debated whether I should wash my hands or do what I usually do and rub my hands on someone's face and laugh. Just kidding, hygiene is awesome and manly, so I walked over to the sinks. There were two sinks which I guess is an appropriate number for such a small bathroom, but not for an entire restaurant. I have four sinks in my house. Two more men could wash their hands at once in peace on my property (three if you include the garden hose), even if one sink usually has old underwear in it, dead spiders or paint brushes. You suck, Earls.

At first I wanted to complain about the height of the counters, because a man of average height could easily take a piss in one without having to stand on a box or the tips of his toes. But then I realized that this was probably designed with children in mind, which is understandable. Kids are all smelly fuckers, they should learn to wash their nasty ass hands, or just stick to manual labour in cramped spaces. Now, the faucets were controlled by motion sensor. Motion sensors are cool. They let the police know when random people are walking through your home so they can show up and beat them with sticks, and you can understand why public places use them in their bathrooms (so some asshole can't leave the tap on) despite all the inherent problems (do you get hot or cold?). I have no problem with motion sensors, unless they don't fucking work, as was the case with these faucets. You've probably experienced this before. You put your hands under, then about three seconds later the water shuts off, so you wave your hand again to get a couple drips, then it shuts off again, like the tap is just finishing taking a piss. Then you wave your hand again and nothing happens, so you keep waving progressively faster and faster as your rage rises, until it looks like you're furiously masturbating over the sink.

While I was doing this I spotted the paper towel dispenser. The fact that there was only one was stupid, but what made it worth mentioning is that it was in the strangest spot imaginable: directly beside the sink, imbedded in the counter. It wasn't in a case or anything, it was just sitting there. Strange that the designers of that bathroom went to the trouble of preventing anyone beyond the extremely determined from flooding the sinks or pissing on the toilet paper, but someone could easily ruin all the paper towels if they wanted to, and take an upper decker shit I suppose, but that's a different story. Although come to think of it, this does provide an explanation for the pathetic water pressure in those sinks. You'd have to be determined to ruin the paper towels as well. Not as determined as you'd have to be to flood the sinks, mind you, but there would have to be clear intent. Or you'd just have to be a dick.

As I discovered moments later when I reached for a paper towel, the party never stops at Earls. The bundle of paper towels detached itself from the holder and fell into the depths of the counter the second I touched it. I say "depths" because I didn't actually hear a thud when the bundle hit the floor. It's like it fell into an abyss, Gandalf style. I backed away from the counter slowly and looked for something else to dry my hands with. Thankfully there was another hand-drying apparatus at my disposal, also known as a hand dryer. It was controlled by motion sensor as well, but it had no markings telling you where to place your hands to turn it on, so I was awkwardly feeling around this thing with uncertain hands. Wait, was I talking about drying my hands or my first experience with vagina? I can't remember.

Now, I've never had a good experience with a hand dryer before. They either blow boiling steam on your hands or air that's as cold as witch titty, neither of which do a particularly good job of drying your hands, not to mention they're fucking loud. Why do they have to be so fucking loud?! I appreciate approaching a simple task like drying your hands as intensely as possible, but some of us just like having dry hands and having our hearing remain intact. There's a reason why I don't dry my hands by sticking them infront of a jet turbine. Partly because I enjoy hearing things, but mostly because I don't have access to a jet. If I did have access to a jet there would be different things on my mind.

Hand dryers have always been something to be avoided for me, there was no good reason for me to utilize this one, but by this point in time I was fully aware that I wanted to write an article about this bathroom. I knew using the hand dryer would be a painful and demeaning experience, but I'm committed to my writing. I wouldn't have been able to get this far knowing that I didn't exploit every inch of that bathroom, so I waved my hand under that fucker for about ten minutes until it turned on.

Now I've never been in an active warzone before, but I feel the experience of having that dryer turn on is best compared to standing next to a dense cluster of explosives then having it detonate. At least in terms of severe hearing loss and temporary loss of basic motor functions. My limbs remained intact, although I couldn't feel my hands because the air that was just shot at them made it feel like I'd held them in buckets of icecream for several hours. I was sure I remained standing through the ordeal, but I did lose the ability to hear for a brief period of time, and during that time I realized that this would probably contribute very little to this writing, and that I hate myself. Might as well have just used my fucking pants. Also, why the fuck does the garbage can look like a laundry basket?

After I'd managed to open the door that was seemingly glued shut and released the vile stench that was trapped inside with me, I started the faster and far less strenuous journey back upstairs and casually returned to my table, uncertain if the smell of my bathroom excursion was following me around and suffocating everyone around me, like I was a black hole made of fart and everyone around me was too close to the singularity to escape. No one seemed to be passing out on their food though, so I suspect I was ok in the area of smell. Appearance was a different story because according to my girlfriend, I was showing signs of blood poisoning and hypothermia. From her description I seemed to have lost a dramatic amount of weight, I was sweating, I was slightly pale and my hands were extremely cold. I had also suddenly become paranoid of the sound of sirens. We left a few minutes later.

Just to clarify, this bathroom is located in the Earls on the University of Alberta campus. I may not be remembering all of this accurately, so someone should eat there and confirm everything I've written today. I myself plan to just shit on the side of the building on my next visit. Although come to think of it, while I still stand by the title of this writing, the act of discharging waste in public restrooms is kinda fun. I don't know why I've avoided it for so long, I should do it more often, or I could just shit in your bathroom for a nominal fee. It would be a memorable experience for the both of us, plus the exorcist you'll probably need to hire.

Friday, January 21, 2011

7 Positive Strides I Could Have Taken Today, But Didn't

I came across a good quote earlier today: "It does not do to dwell on dreams, you forget how to live." I don't often remember my dreams much less dwell on them, with the exception of that one dream where I was fighting zombies and had a flying rhino, so I completely agree with that quote. It does not do to dwell on dreams. You need a take charge attitude in life. If you want something, you just reach out and grab it, a lesson that could potentially land you a kick to the balls and a jail sentence. But I do believe in taking charge of my life, or at least I did...
 
You see, I had the day off work today, so I planned to seize this day, this opportunity, to take positive strides in my life, to make my life better. Something had definitely lit a fire under my ass, but sadly forgot to fill the cauldron, so I ended up squandering the entire day doing absolutely nothing. It was a little disgusting, to be honest. If only I had been able to summon any enthusiasm today, I could have:
 
7. Went for a bike ride
There are a number of convenient activities that one can engage in to get in shape. You can pick up a sport like soccer, basketball or volleyball where all you have to do is run around and either kick, pound or throw balls. You can also go jogging, which is basically just walking a little faster than normal. At that point you have no excuses for not trying something to get in shape, excusing the generally absurd clothes you have to wear and perhaps extreme allergies. But none of those activities I listed actually matter, because the best one ever is also the one I enjoy the most: biking.
 
This summer it was my intention to make an upstanding effort towards getting in better shape. I'm not a big tub of goo or anything, but the winter usually makes me feel like one. After a few weeks of rigorous biking, I'm happy to report success in my endeavour. After biking every day and eating healthier, I find myself to be more energetic, I'm falling asleep easier, and good god, the shits I'm taking? Terrifying, and strangely buoyant. Now, when you set your mind to something, it's a good idea to keep determined and sternly refuse to flounder. So after playing soccer on sunday and biking on monday, I wanted to keep the streak alive by going for one long ass bike ride this morning.
 
What did I do instead?
I slept in like a goddamn cow, or some other animal that sounds lazy. I slept so well and for so long, I'm pretty sure I could have been pronounced legally dead. The thought of having to get up, put some pants on, make and eat breakfast, brush my teeth, go outside then go biking for a few hours, it was too much. I didn't even get as far as making and eating breakfast. Simply having to put pants on put me off the idea immediately. There was also definitely a point in there somewhere when I scratched my ass.
 

6. Registered for upgrading courses
It's amazing how times and people change. For example, I actually garnered enjoyment from school when I was a kid. I enjoyed going, I enjoyed the atmosphere, and I enjoyed feeling superior to everyone else because I already played three sports, played two instruments, had a mild understanding of C++ and Calculus, and I wrote a book. Granted, it wasn't a very good book, it was based off of my lego creations, but a book nonetheless. Incidentally, I may have also enjoyed cocaine.
 
Cake is awesome too. Just throwing that out there

It was right around the time junior high hit when I started experiencing withdrawal issues at not having recess anymore, and the little hairs manifesting around my nipples were more interesting than school. The math equations at that stage had more than three numbers, and that just didn't fly with me. Then when high school hit, you could have simulated my existence just as well by poorly drawing a face on a plank of wood, much like the rest of the student body, with the exception of people on school teams, those shaved-legged cunts. Well the first two years were fine, I just stopped going in grade 12 because it was a pointless bullshit year.
 
If you're wondering why, well first they wouldn't let me in to two courses despite having the required prerequisites. When I asked why, it was like trying to hold a discussion with a flock of pigeons that'd been huffing nitrous oxide. Then my guitar teacher would leave 10 minutes into the class and never come back, my teacher for another course didn't exist, and finally, my social teacher talked about conspiracy theories every single class instead of teaching the course. He once brought up that fake story about subliminal messages being used in movie theaters, and when the audience was flashed pictures of popcorn, suddenly everyone got hungry or something. I raised my hand and suggested that maybe people just like eating popcorn at movies, then he insulted my heritage infront of the entire class. We were supposed to be studying ideologies... People are so surprised when I tell them that I hate school.
 
But a year and a half after high school, I felt I was ready to finish my courses. I simply had to head into the city to register, and today was the perfect day to do it. It's summer, and it's one of the rare days that it's actually warm, so women walk around in skirts and tan their titties and stuff, it's awesome. Nothing could go wrong.


What did I do instead?
I'm sure it would have been a fulfilling endeavour, but I'm afraid that I was still too busy refusing to leave my bed. You'd think I would be more open to getting up after I farted in my own sheets twice, but my bed was abnormally comfy. It didn't want me to leave. I think it wanted to have sex with me, which is probably the plot to some japanese manga, come to think of it. Or maybe it's because I'm so used to sleeping on tires. Eventually I did get up, and I'm fairly certain that right when the bus that I could have been on was leaving, I was taking a huge piss in my toilet. A frighteningly long one too. I could have drowned my neighbour's annoying cat with my urine. I rationalized this decision later by telling myself that going pee was more fulfilling than getting my life back on track, or rather, unfulfilling! BAH HAHAHAHA! Get it, because I'm peeing? Sorry, I'll stop.


5. Learned how to drive
Driving is an invaluable skill that makes your life more convenient, just slightly ruins the environment, and unintentionally promotes laziness. It's a skill that I probably should have invested time in earlier in life, so that when I eventually charm the right woman with my ceaseless arsenal of stale jokes, I won't have to enlist the services of my mommy to take us to the movies, or take the bus with weird smelling hippies and drunken homeless people. However, for the past few months, I've been studying the driver's handbook relentlessly, dead set on taking and passing the learners exam, perhaps even violating it slightly in the process.
 
I felt I was as prepared as I'm ever going to be, and this morning was a wondrous opportunity to just go in and get it done. I was going to be in the area anyway after registering my courses, why not go for it? That is also question I encourage men to think of while they're making out with sexy ladies, minus the registering courses bit. And when I say that I was in the area, I mean that the registry is literally 30 seconds walking distance from the school, so the only excuse I could have had to skip out on that would be if I got shot or attacked by a mob of women. All signs pointed to yes. If I had opened a fortune cookie, it would have slapped me in the face and screamed, "fuck yeah!" That is the best joke I've come up with today.


What did I do instead?
If you've been paying attention thus far, you may remember how I was going to the bathroom instead of going to school. When the thought of taking the learners exam came into my head, if I remember correctly, that is about when I treated myself to a bowl of cheerios so big, if I had any kind of decency in general, nevermind the decency to share, realistically I could have fed about 10 people. But I didn't. I poured that bowl and shamelessly ate all those sexy cheerios all by myself. It's not that driving isn't important to me, it's just not important today. Unless my hypothetical girlfriend who wanted to see a movie today was prepared to carry me, or show up at my house with a saddle on her back, I reserve the evening for microwaved spaghetti and Halo.


4. Met a nice girl
For a guy like me, it's difficult to meet women. I work in a kitchen, so I don't interact with customers often, and I hate going out to the bar. That doesn't open too many doors. However, I've been in a good mood lately, feeling pretty good about myself. I'm staying in shape, making money, eventually going back to school despite the set back this morning, and hey, if there's a law against being handsome, guilty as charged. So I had all the confidence in the world today. It was my day off, why not go out and shamelessly hit on girls? I'm sure nice ones exist somewhere, and I'm sure I could get one of them to fall in love with me.


What did I do instead?
Nothing, really. That confidence I mentioned earlier, I just used it to line up sick no scopes in Halo 3. A good, normal excuse would be that the promise of bear mace and getting a boot in the testicles detracted from the idea of flirting with women slightly, but no. I'm more honest and realistic. I think that since I now wash dishes and make appetizers in a restaurant, the only thing I have to do now is move into my mommy's basement and the ladies will simply come to me. Then I just proceed from that point.


3. Wrote a hit song
Have you ever just been sitting in your house alone, all manner of inspiring, extraordinary ideas racing through your mind, but you can't seem to pinpoint exactly what it is you want to do, and you forget to write shit down, so you just sit there doing nothing and eventually all that adrenaline has been leeched from your body and you hate yourself? Story of my life. But today was different. Rather than let my grandiose ideas and energy go to waste, I decided to channel it and focus it on music. I've been playing guitar since I was four, and I do enjoy writing from time to time, why not combine the two and write a hit song?
 
It's not hard to write a song. Think about a girl that pissed you off once, write two paragraphs about how she's a bitch and repeat a certain line over and over again for the chorus. Bingo. Blink 182 only used about five chords for the entirety of Enema of the State, I'm sure I can handle writing one song. With a catchy beat and deep lyrics, I would soon be having sex with ladies on top of my enormous money pile, because people don't write music for any other reason, except acquiring drugs.


What did I do instead?
I watched Mantracker. It was off the hook! Mantracker did all this dramatic stuff like closely examining irregular debris in the forest to gauge the direction his victims went in, then he chased down this poor woman who felt it was a good idea to run through an open field. The man has a goddamn horse, lady. What were you thinking? Then he caught her partner and gave his ass the beatdown in the middle of the forest. Hahaha, he fell down then tried to get back up, then fell over again and Mantracker shut him down, "Had enough, bitch?" The dude was obviously gay too, which made it a little bit more funny. And to think I used to think this show was retarded! Needless to say, I forgot about the song fairly quickly. Besides, Justin Timberlake already stole my idea for Rock Your Body, so what's the point?
 
My beautiful eyeball fucking hollowed out lite-brite cube... Damn you, Justin!


2. Wrote a best selling book
You may have already guessed that I enjoy writing a little bit and think I'm extremely funny. You've also probably figured it out by now that I had the whole day off. Maybe it's because I've mentioned it about six times now. Pay attention, asshole. So after failing to make myself leave my house, I had nothing to do all day. Normally I just sit around coming up with knock knock jokes, but why not employ this time to a useful end, like parlaying my satirical, offensive writing talents into a best selling book? I've written books before, it aren't that hard. It can't possibly be that difficult to assemble a best seller in a single day. That bitch Stephen King does it all the time.
 

What did I do instead?
I filmed my music video to "Sucks To be You" by Prozzak. There's always the possibility that I could somehow become a professional writer some day, so I will be getting paid to horrify you. If that ever happens, I figured it would be wise to have a video sitting around of exactly who any potential future employers will be dealing with.


1. Hell, I could have done my laundry
Clean clothes are like the garden hose, they're both nice things to have around when you get dog shit on you somehow. On the days that I work, I don't have time to do laundry. First I sleep in, then I eat cereal, then I play videogames for several hours, then I shower, then I refuse to do laundry, then I go to work. Cut me some slack, it's a demanding schedule. But there was no schedule today, because I had the day off wor- oh come on. I had the whole day infront of me to pick up my laundry basket, walk downstairs, and throw my shit in the laundry machine. It practically does all the work for me.

What did I do instead?
I just didn't do my laundry, so I have to continue wearing this underwear for the next two days, because I don't plan on doing my laundry tomorrow either. Wait a minute, why didn't I go out and meet a girl today? I'm irresistible. So what do I plan on tomorrow? Pressing my ass against my front window to see how many people notice sounds like a good place to start.

Incase you're wondering, yes, I made that all up for the sake of comedy, to congratulate myself in about the weirdest way possible. You see, I actually did do all that stuff today, minus meeting the nice girl part. Psh, women. Misleading the innocence with their disingenuous emotions, who needs them? Incidentally, I'm still not gay.