Bullshit Manifesto

Added a new link to Loveline quotes on the left. I’m cracking up on some of these. Give it a look-see.

You’re Egypt!

Curator of ancient mystical secrets, your life on the surface is fairly
typical these days.  Though you are in denial about more things than most people.
 Nevertheless, you’re trying to convince people that you’re safe despite your more
volatile and unstable times that seem to be behind you.  You like cats a whole lot.
 You’d probably really appreciate The Blue
Pyramid.
Take
the Country Quiz at the Blue Pyramid

Of all the tests I’ve taken online, this has to be one of my favorite results. It ranks right up there with being Raiders of the Lost Ark. I’m worried about the cats thing, though. Nothing on the test had anything to do with animals at all. Creepy.

On a more serious yet still entertaining note, I’ve found a site where you create your own country and see how it would hold up under your rule. I’ve only started today, so I’ll let you all know how it unfolds. I’m not extremely hopeful, as most of my attempts at SimCity ended in me getting pissed and sending in Godzilla to kill the people, nay, CRUSH THE LITTLE ANTS of my Utopia.

*fixed the link

Grim. Grimm. Growing up I owned a copy of the complete works of Hans Christian Andersen, and the complete works of the Brothers Grimm. They were both slightly deranged, but the latter moreso. Milca got a book of their tales, similar to this one, illustrated by Arthur Rackham, who’s work is truly awesome. Having their fairytales at my fingertips yet again, I am reminded of how fucked up and twisted those brothers truly were. The stepmother from Cinderella, after cutting off the big toe and heal of her two daughters respectively, she was forced to wear red hot iron shoes and dance until she was dead. Not beheaded. Not a hanging. Oh, no, she gets some proper torture. My personal favorite was one of the last we’ve read to date. The story revolved around this boy and girl, who escape some fucked up death scenario. The end of the story reads, “And they are still alive today, unless they already dead.” What ever happened to “Happily ever after” as a happy ending? Now we’ve got the cynic’s ending.

Hans wasn’t much better. The Little Mermaid felt the tips of daggers on her feet every step she took with her new legs. Her sisters traded their hair for a dagger that Ariel was to use on Eric so that she could return to being a mermaid. She couldn’t bring herself to do it, however, so she jumped from the highest window at the end of the third day, landed in the ocean, and turned into sea foam. My favorite part of this original version is that not only does the main character lose, but her sisters are now all bald headed. The idea of bald mermaids is quite hilarious.

I love Zelda. This is quite an understatement, as I’m addicted to Zelda, and require some amount of rupee/triforce/sage medallion liberation regularly. I am pretty good at most of the Zelda games out there, and have only missed out on a few of the games because I didn’t own the respective system. This will be remedied with time, mind you, but at present I have beaten:

The Legend of Zelda
Zelda 2: The Adventures of Link (Incomplete)
Zelda: Link’s Awakening
Zelda Ocarina of Time
Zelda Ocarina of Time Master Quest
Zelda Majora’s Mask
Zelda Windwaker

The only ones I am missing out on are the Super Nintendo version, as I don’t have a Super Nintendo, and the two game boy versions that sync up, which I didn’t get because I felt like Nintendo was trying to cheat me, making me buy two of the same game. That’s likely the case, but I’ll buy them soon as they are likely cheaper now anyhow.

The 2d versions carry nostalgic value for me, but are arguably some of the best fantasy games out there, and are extremely replayable. The 3d versions are fan-fucking-tastic. The puzzles range from painfully simple to painfully difficult. They are getting better at including side missions/quests, extra fun things to do, and nifty new items and concepts. I am chomping at the bit for a new Zelda game, and welcome any suggestions of other Gamecube games that would appeal to a Zelda head like me.

Oh, and Link delivers the major ass kicking in Soul Calibur 2.

I am very critical when it comes to the level of service I recieve at a restaurant. I’m not exactly as bad as Mr. Pink, but I do base the tip on performance. I notice how often my cup is filled, whether or not it has ever been empty, how long the food takes, the attitude of the waiter/waitress and other staff, and the salesmanship of the waiter/waitress. The latter is mostly because I am a salesman, and appreciate a good sales pitch. My best experiences have come from California Pizza Kitchen.

The servers have always been extremely personable, and looked me in the eye. One even sat down opposite Milca and I to take our order, which has never happened to me before. They have all offered appetizers or soups by their name or flavor. Upsells are not foreign to me, but I still take them up on it from time to time, without regret. They typically offer me a beer when I go in, or some other alcoholic drink. That’s only really an issue for me because I ate at the Ritz Carlton’s Grill once, and the waiter sneared when I didn’t order the wine he offered. I was underage, and didn’t want to drink. At CPK there is no snear. The appetizers are good, and well priced. The meals are awesome, well priced, and filling. I hate paying $15 for a plate that only barely fills me. I’ve been to places where the service has been good, but CPK has just made a significant impression on me.

Order the tequila chicken, or the jambalaya. Thank me later.

My first year at Burning Man was life changing. I discovered a great deal about myself, those around me, society as a whole, and the wonders of the human imagination. On the lighter side of my findings, I will tell you the story of my gecko “wrap.” For this story, I will be using some terms that you might want to look up at the burningman site.

The night of the burn, I was haning out in camp just chillin’. The camp next door had been playing music, live and recorded alike, all week and was currently playing the audio from the Wizard of Oz. That’s not the soundtrack, mind, but the audio track from the movie. A bunch of us were reenacting the movie. It was a hoot. Anyhow, after dancing about like a crazed munchkin, I sat down at camp and noticed a crumpled blue mass in the middle of the street. I approached it, and thought it to be a shawl, or wrap. It was navy blue with white geckos all over it. It was quite cute. I was going to be in drag for the burn, and thought that this would make a perfect addition to my outfit. That proved to be a great decision.

That night was very cold. I was in a nightie and heels. The only reason I am alive today is that the shawl kept the wind from chilling me to the bone. It wasn’t much for insulation, but in those short moments when the wind opened the shawl, I nearly froze to death. I napped next to the burning embers of the man, then made the long trek back to camp in the bitter cold.

I kept the shawl and wore it again the next year as an extremely long head bandana. It was quite impressive in the wind, though it was slightly heavy. The next morning I had a wake up call. This “shawl/wrap/bandana” was in fact a sarong. I hadn’t ever heard of a sarong. It turns out that several of the Canadians we were camping with had some of their own, and let me in on the wonders that they truly possess. Simple, fashionable, comfortable, they are arguably the best thing to happen to fashion since the toga. Since then I have bought and been given many sarongs. I wear one almost every day at home. I used to walk around the house in my boxers and a t-shirt, which is kind of grubby and crude looking. The sarong and t-shirt is neither grubby nor crude.

All you men out there, go get a sarong. If you sleep in the nude, it is the best thing you’ll have ever bought. When you need to get up in the middle of the night, and don’t want to risk running into someone in the nude, it’s easy to put on, and even easier to take off. Those midnight bathroom trips are quick and easy.

Not to mention, I fucking hate pants. My balls can’t breathe.

I used too party pretty hard. Specifically, I used to drink quite a bit. I’d drink no fewer than 4 beers in a day, and when I went to the bar I wouldn’t have anything weaker than a bloody mary, and a double at that. I was known for my Loop-ini, which is really just a vodka martini made to my specifications, and for drinking my Glen Livet 18 on the rocks. I stopped drinking beer and hard booze last August, only having no more than ten beers since then, and even fewer hard drinks. I do drink a fair amount of wine, mostly 2 Buck Chuck, but nothing like the days of yore.

Then, Saturday, Milca and I had the great idea of drinking vodka. I was okay that night, having 3 drinks, but the next morning I was hung over like you wouldn’t believe. I never used to get hung over. I guess the party is over.

Back in the day, a friend of mine had a book, some papers, and some dice and asked me if I wanted to play Robotech. That was how it started. I play roleplaying games. I’ve been playing them for over ten years at this point. To date, the games I’ve played are:

Robotech
D&D
AD&D
D&D3
Star Wars
Rolemaster
Chill
Amber
In Nomine
Vampire
Werewolf
Ars Magica
Teenagers From Outer Space
Call of Cthulu
Swordspoint
and
Cyberpunk

I can’t seem to remember any more at this point, but you get the general idea. I love this shit. I’ve played an alcoholic Irish priest in the 30’s, an Austrian guitarist vampire living in San Francisco, a twisted wizard named Zerid, and even the Demon of Stoner Ideas. I’ve been shot, stabbed, crucified, possessed, burned… you get the picture.

Lately I’ve been playing Vampire and Werewolf, run by my boy Justin. Vampire is on hold, and has been for a bit over a year. Werewolf has been the game of late, and my boy Phil is also involved. We’d played together back in the day in Rolemaster, and several other games.

I ran into Justin last night. He’s been busy writing (him being a writer I guess you could call it work), and he said that game will be starting again soon.

My character in this game is named Jimmy Ryan. He used to play baseball in high school until he got hit in the temple by the ball. Now he lives in the sticks, and is a werewolf. I’ve grown to like him, and yearn to play him some more. More soon after game has happened.

And, yes, I know I’m a dork.

At least once a week someone tells me that I look like Bill Murray. He is one of my favorite actors, and I don’t think he’s bad looking, per se, so I take it as a compliment. Of course, you hear it often enough and it starts to get a bit old. Two women came into the store just now. One turns to the other whiile I am ringing them up, and asks “Do you remember Ghostbusters?” Shit, here we go again. “Doesn’t he look like that guy?” His name is Bill Fucking Murray. “Yeah, I get that all the time,” is my typical reply. “Really? Because you really do look like him.” Wait, I keep hearing that I look like him because I really look like him?! Stop the fucking presses.

All joking aside, if anyone hears that they are doing some sort of Bill Murray story, or a movie about the early years of Saturday Night Live, lemme know so I can make me some money.

“I don’t have to take this abuse from you, I’ve got hundreds of people dying to abuse me.” -BM

I’ve been trying to learn how to cook more things of late. Milca’s family does a good deal more cooking than my family did, and I’m picking things up here and there. I’m still confident that I could kick some culinary ass in the camp kitchen, but I know I need to learn a lot more. I’ve been flipping through The Joy of Cooking of late, and I am learning that all those quick meal ideas are only a tad bit more complex when done from scratch, and taste infinitely better. Example? Buttermilk pancakes. I forget what it was, but Milca had cooked something that required buttermilk. Having buttermilk in the fridge, I thought, “Why not make buttermilk pancakes?” So, I looked it up in The Joy of Cooking, and found that I had all the other ingredients, which were all very basic. If you’re a bachelor, you likely don’t have flour, baking powder, or baking soda, but otherwise you should be okay. The recipe in the book doesn’t mention adding water to the mix, but I do anyway to thin it out a bit. It serves about 8 pancakes, perfect for two people, and they are the crazy bomb. I will never buy instant pancake mix again, unless camping, but even then I typically get the ready to pour stuff. There are never lumps, no mixing bowl to clean, and you just pour the stuff, for pete’s sake.

Long story short (too late), go buy The Joy of Cooking NOW. I’ve linked the thing 3 times already, just click one of them. Come on… you can do it. It tells you how to cook anything. I can’t stress “anything” more. It tells you how to cook bear. Yes, bear. Even squirrels. but then you can also learn the finer arts of a fondue, and what a fondue pot really is. The index is magical. It’s the backbone of any kitchen.

I’m thinking I might make some cookies soon… maybe peanut butter… with chocolate chips… *drool*