Imbrolio
What level of dorketry is it when you talk to other people about web comics that you've read which they have not seen? Is any salvation I may have gained from finally getting off the "Peice Mail Dragon" negatively counterbalanced by the humor that I find in and constantly reference in daily life from these last-bastions of easily-consumed free speech?
Let me tell you this, though: Quitting D&D was tough. It's still tough, you have to wake up every morning and fight the urge to roll a D20. I keep my bag of dice on my shelf, as a reminder of my past, or perhaps to leave the option open, a secret hope that I'll someday relapse. Not only is the game a social interaction, something I got to do with a good number of friends, which facilitated the whole myth behind the ol' Dung an' Drag, but there's an irresistable allure to creating characters and following storylines, even bad ones, that exists, it seems, within my own mind. I seek these things out, and it's difficult to turn away from them.
My Gender in U.S. Politics professor was talking about the NWSA (the National Women's Suffrage Assn.) and saying how, apart from voting, they were also interested in temperance, equal rights, the rights of black women, etc. She said that, unlike the AWSA (the American samethingsamethingsamething), the NWSA had a very "broad agenda." She shot me a dirty look when I laughed.
I had to stop in at a local coffee shop near school last night while out with the Mrs. because. after eating Caribbean-style filet mignon, my bowels were arguing my taste for the dish. After having the service bell not answered for the longest time, we walked outside,only to see the owner of the establishment (I can only assume) looking through the window after us. We walked back in, I asked to use the bathroom, and the man bruskly pointed out the bathroom key while cleaning a mug he held between us. Once I was gone, the G-friend tells me, he asked, "Whaddaya want?" and, intimidated, she ordered a coke. On our way out, I left the guy a couple of bucks on the counter, as he seemed really put out by someone coming through and using his fucking bathroom without paying two fucking dollars for a fucking coke.
I am less tolerant of unjustified unfriendliness than most people you'd hope to meet in the world, and am less polite when confronted with it. And the guy is running a college-town coffee shop, not a saloon in a Gary Cooper western. Dick.
There are... swine... at my place of employ. Pigs... that perform. Harold is a piglet. Petunia and Nellie are older, the former much younger than the latter, but both adults. All are adorable. All jump over hurdles. Among other things.
I bought a new guitar last night, one that I've been thinking of buying for a good long while now. Through the Mrs.' logic and the Bro.'s nagging, I finally bit the pickguard and bought it. Neat thing was that they had a deal where if you bought any guitar, you get a crappy twleve-string for FREE. I AM NOT ONE TO PASS UP ON A FREE GUITAR!
I've been playing the twelve string more, in the single day that I've owned them, than the guitar I meant to purchase lo these many months. It's pretty nifty and, not to pigeonhole myself or the b-b-b-band too much, I think it matches nicely with our sound. Definitely some of the stuff I've written, at least, sounds better played on the thing. Free guitar people! FREE!
I'll feel better about spending so much money... again... once I've been reimbursed for my textbooks and have been paid for some video-editing work I did and am currently getting retroactively stiffed on.
War is coming. Next weekend, and I'll be there. This pig-place has scheduled me for the Saturday in concern, but I shant be attending. I made my obligations clear to them, it should come as no surprise that I am unable to fulfill their unreasonable requests. A shift lead wants a month off during a huge show we have running, the guy gets it. I'm a better worker than any of these people. Any of them.
I'm making a sword, which I don't normally fight with, so I think, in order to have it reaady for today's practice, I'll go outside and work on it before the time to battle is come. Ought to be a pretty cool war.
Ought to.
El Platano Macho... THE MANANA!
Let me tell you this, though: Quitting D&D was tough. It's still tough, you have to wake up every morning and fight the urge to roll a D20. I keep my bag of dice on my shelf, as a reminder of my past, or perhaps to leave the option open, a secret hope that I'll someday relapse. Not only is the game a social interaction, something I got to do with a good number of friends, which facilitated the whole myth behind the ol' Dung an' Drag, but there's an irresistable allure to creating characters and following storylines, even bad ones, that exists, it seems, within my own mind. I seek these things out, and it's difficult to turn away from them.
My Gender in U.S. Politics professor was talking about the NWSA (the National Women's Suffrage Assn.) and saying how, apart from voting, they were also interested in temperance, equal rights, the rights of black women, etc. She said that, unlike the AWSA (the American samethingsamethingsamething), the NWSA had a very "broad agenda." She shot me a dirty look when I laughed.
I had to stop in at a local coffee shop near school last night while out with the Mrs. because. after eating Caribbean-style filet mignon, my bowels were arguing my taste for the dish. After having the service bell not answered for the longest time, we walked outside,only to see the owner of the establishment (I can only assume) looking through the window after us. We walked back in, I asked to use the bathroom, and the man bruskly pointed out the bathroom key while cleaning a mug he held between us. Once I was gone, the G-friend tells me, he asked, "Whaddaya want?" and, intimidated, she ordered a coke. On our way out, I left the guy a couple of bucks on the counter, as he seemed really put out by someone coming through and using his fucking bathroom without paying two fucking dollars for a fucking coke.
I am less tolerant of unjustified unfriendliness than most people you'd hope to meet in the world, and am less polite when confronted with it. And the guy is running a college-town coffee shop, not a saloon in a Gary Cooper western. Dick.
There are... swine... at my place of employ. Pigs... that perform. Harold is a piglet. Petunia and Nellie are older, the former much younger than the latter, but both adults. All are adorable. All jump over hurdles. Among other things.
I bought a new guitar last night, one that I've been thinking of buying for a good long while now. Through the Mrs.' logic and the Bro.'s nagging, I finally bit the pickguard and bought it. Neat thing was that they had a deal where if you bought any guitar, you get a crappy twleve-string for FREE. I AM NOT ONE TO PASS UP ON A FREE GUITAR!
I've been playing the twelve string more, in the single day that I've owned them, than the guitar I meant to purchase lo these many months. It's pretty nifty and, not to pigeonhole myself or the b-b-b-band too much, I think it matches nicely with our sound. Definitely some of the stuff I've written, at least, sounds better played on the thing. Free guitar people! FREE!
I'll feel better about spending so much money... again... once I've been reimbursed for my textbooks and have been paid for some video-editing work I did and am currently getting retroactively stiffed on.
War is coming. Next weekend, and I'll be there. This pig-place has scheduled me for the Saturday in concern, but I shant be attending. I made my obligations clear to them, it should come as no surprise that I am unable to fulfill their unreasonable requests. A shift lead wants a month off during a huge show we have running, the guy gets it. I'm a better worker than any of these people. Any of them.
I'm making a sword, which I don't normally fight with, so I think, in order to have it reaady for today's practice, I'll go outside and work on it before the time to battle is come. Ought to be a pretty cool war.
Ought to.
El Platano Macho... THE MANANA!
posted by DeadLanguage at 9:57 AM
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