And Iran, Iran so far Kuwait
In lieu of seeing my friend Anthony this Saturday (whom I seldom see anymore, our schedules rarely coinciding and he living in Los Angeles) I opted to spend the night with the Mrs. The wisdom of this choice notwithstanding, while visiting the friend he did end up spending time with yesterday, I was informed Ol' Anthony had left me something during his visit.
One; he'd left me a thing... this thing he left. This thing he left was a thing I'd given him three years ago... or some figure very near that. This thing, which he'd left, which was a thing, was called, "Oops a Daisy," and constituted largely of a plastic cow that, when you pressed down on it, would 'poop' out jellybeans. The other part of this "Oops a Daisy" were the actual jellybeans, colored a tasteful gradiation of brown and yellow. CLASS.
So I'm hanging on to that for another few years until I can give it back to him. I wish, at times like these, that I was either a wiz with machinery or magical, because it would be so much easier and, indeed, far more likely to actually happen if I could build a box to hold it, just a discreet one to hang on the wall (perhaps able to link with other boxes for similar purposes in order to save space) that, when a few years had passed, would spring open and deliver unto me the Poopin' Cow. Or... you know... do that with magic. The magical equivalent. You can imagine something, I'm sure.
As it is, I'm going to put it in a drawer and probably forget about it forever. Of course, I could only forget about it for a few years, then stumble upon it one day, laugh, and promptly give it back to Anthony. So that'll work out then.
The other two things he gave me, (gift-wrapped, no less) were Prince of Persia: Sands of Time and Viewtiful Joe for my Playstation 2.
This really isn't fair. The Mrs. didn't even buy these games, and yet she's the one who's going to have to do without me for another month or so as I finish them.
All kidding aside, bully for my buddy. Anthony's a credit to friends to come into money. Come into money... I should say squeeze money out of their very sweat glands. Anthony works hard, and he gets just compensation for it (perhaps less-than, in his opinion) and then he goes and spends so much money on his friends. I tell you... it makes me angry that I'm not more like that. I mean... choked up. It makes me choked up. Or... want to choke someone up. Something like that.
Anyway, I've been up since 11 (THE SUN RISES, DAWN IS UPON US) and playing Prince o' Persia since about then. Really, really fun game. I'm enjoying it. It makes me a little morose that the game is informing me that I'm already pretty much halfway through it. I doubt, once finished, I'll want to play through it again... but we'll see. Maybe when you beat the game it unlocks a level consisting of nothing but unlimited time-zombie demons and lots of obstacles and corners to vault and dodge off of. One can dream.
Viewtiful Joe, while not as critically acclaimed as P o' P, I have played before, and found to be wholly enjoyable. If nothing else, the game looks unlike anything I've ever seen. I'm looking forward to working through the fun of POPers so I can get to it.
Now that I think about it, and from what I can remember about Viewtiful Joe, these games both have something in common. Both have gameplay that directly involves the manipulation of time. I don't mean a simple Pause feature, either... You slow down time in both, and in the more Middle Eastern of the two you actually reverse time. Time time time. See what's become of me?
Thing is, Anthony's a programmer for games like these (not specifically, but the guy programs video games), so recieving a gift like this from him is kind of an oily, unmarked package, if you follow me. Brown paper. Tied with string.
There's every possibility that these are some of the games that have made it past the labyrinthine, deadly obstacle course that is Anthony's review system, and that these are some of the best games around. The boy is extremely picky about his games, as can be expected, so the games he's given me might just be some of the best you could possibly imagine! WOOOO!
On the other hand, I worry he may be using the games to feel me out. To gauge my reaction. What if they're crappy games, in his eyes, and I like them a lot? Does that mean he'll never respect my opinion again? Has he ever? What happened to Fibber McGee? WHAT?
At any rate, I'll be playing AND enjoying them both until more light is shed on the matter. I really do like the games, and I think they're an awesome gift. My friends rock. All of them.
QwikThot: (I'll be using this preface to denote sporadic and stacatto bursts of thought and consideration that come to me from now on. No, I am not sorry.) When does chili, through dint of the progressive addition of ingredients, cease being chili and become gumbo? Or is it the other way around? The questions that keep us from developing a cure for hunger, born here, in DeadLanguageLand.
I don't believe I'll be using that preface to denote anything ever again. Ever.
One; he'd left me a thing... this thing he left. This thing he left was a thing I'd given him three years ago... or some figure very near that. This thing, which he'd left, which was a thing, was called, "Oops a Daisy," and constituted largely of a plastic cow that, when you pressed down on it, would 'poop' out jellybeans. The other part of this "Oops a Daisy" were the actual jellybeans, colored a tasteful gradiation of brown and yellow. CLASS.
So I'm hanging on to that for another few years until I can give it back to him. I wish, at times like these, that I was either a wiz with machinery or magical, because it would be so much easier and, indeed, far more likely to actually happen if I could build a box to hold it, just a discreet one to hang on the wall (perhaps able to link with other boxes for similar purposes in order to save space) that, when a few years had passed, would spring open and deliver unto me the Poopin' Cow. Or... you know... do that with magic. The magical equivalent. You can imagine something, I'm sure.
As it is, I'm going to put it in a drawer and probably forget about it forever. Of course, I could only forget about it for a few years, then stumble upon it one day, laugh, and promptly give it back to Anthony. So that'll work out then.
The other two things he gave me, (gift-wrapped, no less) were Prince of Persia: Sands of Time and Viewtiful Joe for my Playstation 2.
This really isn't fair. The Mrs. didn't even buy these games, and yet she's the one who's going to have to do without me for another month or so as I finish them.
All kidding aside, bully for my buddy. Anthony's a credit to friends to come into money. Come into money... I should say squeeze money out of their very sweat glands. Anthony works hard, and he gets just compensation for it (perhaps less-than, in his opinion) and then he goes and spends so much money on his friends. I tell you... it makes me angry that I'm not more like that. I mean... choked up. It makes me choked up. Or... want to choke someone up. Something like that.
Anyway, I've been up since 11 (THE SUN RISES, DAWN IS UPON US) and playing Prince o' Persia since about then. Really, really fun game. I'm enjoying it. It makes me a little morose that the game is informing me that I'm already pretty much halfway through it. I doubt, once finished, I'll want to play through it again... but we'll see. Maybe when you beat the game it unlocks a level consisting of nothing but unlimited time-zombie demons and lots of obstacles and corners to vault and dodge off of. One can dream.
Viewtiful Joe, while not as critically acclaimed as P o' P, I have played before, and found to be wholly enjoyable. If nothing else, the game looks unlike anything I've ever seen. I'm looking forward to working through the fun of POPers so I can get to it.
Now that I think about it, and from what I can remember about Viewtiful Joe, these games both have something in common. Both have gameplay that directly involves the manipulation of time. I don't mean a simple Pause feature, either... You slow down time in both, and in the more Middle Eastern of the two you actually reverse time. Time time time. See what's become of me?
Thing is, Anthony's a programmer for games like these (not specifically, but the guy programs video games), so recieving a gift like this from him is kind of an oily, unmarked package, if you follow me. Brown paper. Tied with string.
There's every possibility that these are some of the games that have made it past the labyrinthine, deadly obstacle course that is Anthony's review system, and that these are some of the best games around. The boy is extremely picky about his games, as can be expected, so the games he's given me might just be some of the best you could possibly imagine! WOOOO!
On the other hand, I worry he may be using the games to feel me out. To gauge my reaction. What if they're crappy games, in his eyes, and I like them a lot? Does that mean he'll never respect my opinion again? Has he ever? What happened to Fibber McGee? WHAT?
At any rate, I'll be playing AND enjoying them both until more light is shed on the matter. I really do like the games, and I think they're an awesome gift. My friends rock. All of them.
QwikThot: (I'll be using this preface to denote sporadic and stacatto bursts of thought and consideration that come to me from now on. No, I am not sorry.) When does chili, through dint of the progressive addition of ingredients, cease being chili and become gumbo? Or is it the other way around? The questions that keep us from developing a cure for hunger, born here, in DeadLanguageLand.
I don't believe I'll be using that preface to denote anything ever again. Ever.
posted by DeadLanguage at 4:54 PM
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