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I Choose You
January 25, 2002
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Whoa out there peeps - as I mentioned before, this rant is being written early for your reading pleasure, as right now I am heading back to icy Minnesota to be reunited with my beloved (Web-Guy) Josiah. I also am being forcefully reunited with the whole concept of "school" and "homework" which will doubtlessly be an unpleasant experience. But none of you give two shits in a hat about that, so it's all good. Blue minds not.
Fallout 2 is dead, long live Fallout 2...yep, that's riiiiiiiiiiight, I finally graduated from the esteemed college of kicking its ass - with honors and a major in laser weaponry. And I got the HAPPIEST ending, dammit: stopped drug addiction and slavery, brought order to a lawless town, settled some racial issues between humans and mutants (beat that, Professor Xavier! ...Oh, wait, of course you do, and it stings... ow, stop that...), stopped an evil group of militants from committing some nasty world genocide, and generally tapped everyone bad in the game on the shoulder and said, "Oh, by the way, this here is your ass, and I'm going to make you wear it as a little hat." W00t me. And if I haven't fully expressed how wonderful this game is already, head to the ultimate Fallout site - No Mutants Allowed - and while you're at it you might want to help me out with the whole begging-them-to-make-it-an-MMORPG-already thingy. At least, I'm hoping you do. I guess I'm tired of this whole "having a life" business, and wish to retire forever from human sight, because that's essentially what a Fallout MMORPG would do to me. Call me a sucker for inhuman punishment. Or something. Yeep.
I'm sure I'm absolutely behind everyone else in this whole business of seeing games actually when they first come OUT, but as there is a slim chance there are people out there who have NOT seen the demo for the Spiderman game, good lord, go out and get it already. I may not have been a gigantic Spidey reader, but I am a Marvel fan, and love his character to bits - a character which comes across perfectly in the game, wisecracks and webshooting and all. I've heard countless stories about how wonderful Aliens Vs. Predator 2 is, except for the whole confusion with the aliens about "Oh Jesus, what the hell, am I crawling on the ceiling or not?" which leads to some very perplexed and easily-targeted aliens. Spidey, being in the 3rd person, pulls the whole ceiling-crawling thing across perfectly, making the surface you're crawling on transparent so the player can see whatever's beneath you. And if you want to nail someone below with webbing, BANG, up comes a little movable target from Spidey's perspective that helps you peg them, no-problem. Excellente. Plus this game is narrated by the God of the Marvel Comics world, Stan "the Man" Lee, so it has my stamp of approval no matter what. Hey, Stan wouldn't do anything that wasn't COOL, right fans? Just look at him in Mallrats. Like I said, exquisite taste.
Found out why my room feels so sub-Arctic: having your furnace limping brokenly on its shattered last leg will do that (sorry about the rather grisly image, but seriously, heat, like fame, seemed to be avoiding me with a kind of grim determination usually reserved only for Olympic skiers. Or something) So now, as of this morning, there are people on the roof, apparently to fix it, or something in its immediate vicinity. At least this is what I *hope* they're doing, and not drilling holes for listening devices to be placed in the roof, most of which will likely inadvertently record me shrieking old Billie Holiday songs in the shower. That'll show 'em (that I'm a complete moron. But then again, I suppose we all knew that already). But I'm heading back to Minnesota, which of course is *supposed* to be so cold that your eyeballs should be bundled to avoid freezing, so enough of that.
Nyeh. I'm starting to get that pre-trip packing anxiety now...you know, that crippling fear that you'll forget something vital, like liver medication (despite the fact that I don't even HAVE any of that), and they'll search your bag at the airport, and not only will they be dragging your embarrassing clothing out into the open, i.e. flinging your thongs at each other like rubber bands - EXPENSIVE rubber bands - from Victoria's Secret , all of a sudden you'll realize you forgot it, and your eyes will get all big and you'll start screaming and *BAM* your head will explode like that one guy's in Scanners. And as for that "thong" issue I just mentioned, I will take the 5th Amendment on the issue of whether or not I or any of my colleagues own any, and if you ask about it I will have no choice but to punch you directly in the junk (or boobs, as it were - I know both sting). I would take the 5th *Element* on the matter, but Bruce Willis is out of town ::ba-dum-PSSH::
Sorry. Had to say it.
Well, this rant's getting long enough, and I've got shit to do, so I'll just bid you all a fondue, be well, see you on Tuesday. Wish me a good flight, I think I'll need it.
Toodles,
Annie "Blue" VM
Thank you
For everything beautiful
For everything thank you
- Tom Maxwell
"Samsara"
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