Plants Versus Zombies

I would like to bring a problem to light that may be soon affecting your own neighborhood.

Zombies

That's right... You heard me. Zombies.

They're coming to eat your brains.

But fear not. Never fear. For your next-door neighbor who wears a pot over his head and everyone thinks is crazy knew this was coming all along and has supplied you with a weapon to defend your lawn from the approaching zombie horde.

Seeds.

But not any seeds. No, no. These grow plants in an instant, and these plants aren't useless. They fire peas at incoming zombies to destroy them! You've survived the first wave, but what about the next? Again, you needn't fear for you get more plants with varied uses to protect that pink squishy thing inside your skull.

...Annnnd that's pretty much the premise for the game Plants Versus Zombies. I got this game a month ago for my laptop and have been addicted to it lately. At its core, this game is basically a grid-based defend-your-castle kinda game and does its genre well. There is a lot of strategy involved and many ways to do it. Tons of game modes, mini-games, and extras that are enjoyable as well. The zombies and plants are cartoon styled and have humorous descriptions in the Zombie Almanac that makes me laugh my ass off sometimes.

Overall, a good game that only costs twenty bucks. And get the collector's edition while you're at it. It's the same price and comes with a zombie figurine. Now, they just need to make a portable version for the DS, and I'll be happy. Well, more like happier.

Or you could not get it and be unprepared for the upcoming zombie Apocalypse. Your choice. Personally, I like my brain in my head and not in a zombie's gut.

Not Your Average Fairy Tale

I just had this crazy awesome idea to take my top seven words off savethewords.org/ and write a short nonsensical story. It's both challenging and fun. This sounds like a potential assignment for a creative writing class. 

Anyway... let's get this started.

...

Um...

...

Okay, I've got something.

Once upon a time, specifically WWII Germany, an airgonaut was flying through the air in his biplane, 'cause that's what airgonauts do, when his plane was shot down by some Nazis. He survived, but his plane was toast. He was in quite a predicament. Without a plane, how could he call himself an airgonaut? He wasn't all that worried though, 'cause he saw himself flying a plane again in the future using his essomenic powers he gained from secret British experiments on psychic abilities that were never mentioned in the history books.  However, he didn't know how he got a new plane in the future. Suddenly, he remembered that the biplane he was flying was one of the ones the Nazis used, so he figured out that he must have stole it from the Nazis!

Now having a concrete plan with absolutely no holes in it whatsoever, he dawned a fake moustache he had prepared ahead of time just in case something like this happened and traveled on foot to Berlin. Once he arrived at the cynicocratical (at the time) capital of Germany, he blended in seamlessly with the German citizens. Confident in his xenization, he didn't look where he was going and walked right into a Nazi officer and his escort. The Nazi officer was outraged and demanded to know who the airgonaut was. The airgonaut was in a pickle. Even though the airgonaut knew enough German to get by, he didn't know the icasm the officer used, so he tried somehow to talk his way out it with his very limited German. 

Unfortunately his quibbleism didn't fool the Nazi officer who knew that any real Berlin citizen would have understood his icasm. With his cover blow, the airgonaut decided to say, "Screw it", headbutted the escort, and stole his StG 44 assault rifle. The Nazi officer tried to shoot him with his Walther PPK 7.65 semi auto pistol, but the airgonaut kicked the officer in the place that houses a man's soul (Ya know the place). With his newly obtained weapon, he proceeded to moderncide (at the time)  the officer and his escort and ran towards the air base blindly firing his weapon wildly in the air. Somehow, he made it to a plane with no injuries on his part and only thirty Nazis killed. And what luck, the former pilot left the keys in the plane!

So, the airgonaut finally made it back to sky and lived happily ever after... until his own allies shot his plane down  'cause they thought he was the enemy, and he crashed into the Alps
 

Fin.

...

I really don't know exactly what this was.

Well, anyway, I hoped you enjoyed reading it as much as I had fun writing it, and if you didn't, well that's too bad.

Words, Words, Words

I just want to give heads up to this novel idea I encountered on one of my many Internet adventures.

www.savethewords.org/

Basically, the premise is to bring to light old words that nobody uses any more before they vanish in the ashes of time. I find this vastly entertaining. Who doesn't like words? (Don't answer that 'cause the answer would probably upset me and get me on a rant about modern society or something of that nature). So many new words to add to my vocabulary arsenal that will one day become ammo for the War of Grammar. Side note- anyone who gets this very  esoteric  reference is instantly my best friend.

Here's my top seven in no particular order of the words that have gained my interest.

1. xenization, n. - fact of traveling as a stranger
2. airgonaut, n. - one who journeys through the air
3. essomenic, adj. - showing things as they will be in the future
4. icasm, n. - figurative expression
5. quibbleism, n. - act of beating around the bush
6. cynicocratical, adj. - pertaining to rule by cynics
7. modernicide, v. - to kill modern people

Do it. It's free. Adopt a word or two. Get it on a t-shirt, although you don't have to.

Of course, there is a reason why some of the words are archaic, but that's no excuse for them to disappear. Wanna know something kinda sad? Most of these words aren't in the spellcheck.

I Think I'm Accident Prone

My morning has been full of injuries. While cutting a piece for a Styrofoam bust, I've burned my hand with a hot glue gun in several places and stabbed my thumb with a cut-away blade. I was bleeding a lot everywhere. There weren't any bandages or anything, so I had to McGyver one using masking tape and tissues. Earlier this week I cut my fingers twice, however, those were just nicks, and I had access to bandages.

This is making me think I may be accident prone, but it's not like these were my first injuries.

I've melted the skin of my right hand with scalding hot milk that overflowed onto my hand when I used to work at Starbucks, and before anyone says anything it wasn't my fault. The customer ordered an extra hot cappuccino, which we're not technically suppose to make extra hot (only cappuccino) for the very reason it will overflow, but
"The customer is always right!" 

(coughbullshitcough)

And of course, I can't forget the half a dozen times I cracked my head open when I was a little kid of one or two, and the fact that I slammed my head into the ground repeatedly 'cause I had teeth problems when I was still little and it hurt. And don't make a joke about how this explains a lot about why I am the way I am 'cause I've already heard it. Hell, I was the first one to say that joke.

All of this points to me being accident prone. Then again, it could all be in my cracked head. I'm such the actual accident prone people are much worse off than me.

This Might Be A Problem

Second week in the semester and already I think my schedule is going to kill me slowly and painfully, while draining away all of my vitality, willpower and creativity, not unlike cancer or a potentially good manga plot that either ends prematurely or has a horrible ending despite being given time to mature.

I'm being completely, three-fourths serious.

You don't want to see me when I'm 100% serious... when my cynicism is at its peak.

...

I barely have enough time to complete the work assigned Tuesday for the class Thursday, and on Wednesday I pretty much spend the entire day at the college. Overall, a hell of a lot to finish and do research on with just barely enough time to complete it, as long as I don't sleep much and embargo almost everything that makes me happy.

I do know what I have to do about all this, in order to make all of this much easier to do without losing my last reserve of sanity.

Right now, however, I feel like complaining.

Tomorrow, I will start organizing myself, but 'til then I shall complain.

I like to complain. My grandfather, who I'm told I resemble, complained a lot, too. So, I shall complain as well, then get my act together. But not until I'm finished complaining. I'm not happy 'til I'm unhappy.

...

......

.........

Okay, I'm done.

A Thought Just Dawned Upon Me

I know that only like three or four people have actually read this blog, and all of them are my friends who know me relatively well. The point of this short exposition is to ask...

What would someone who has never even met me think about me from reading my blog?

To make a point clear, I could care less about what 83.8 to 97.8 percent out the billions of people in the world think of me. This is more a case of intellectual curiosity than anything of that nature. I've been told by my friends who read this blog that the way I write sounds exactly like things I would say and how I would say it in real life. I know that may sound redundant (Of course it sounds like you, you fucking wrote it!), but it's harder than it looks. I am not really sure that an outsider would even partially get who I am from reading this blog. Everything that is written here is the stuff that I don't care if anyone reads, but all of the things I regard as personal or private I don't write about here or anywhere else for that matter. Even the slightly more personal posts leave out necessary details I would rather not write, and I immediately deleted that one very personal post I made one time when I was really pissed.

The Internet is one vast public form after all, and it's never a good idea to display one's entire life for all the world to see. A complete stranger would need more than the random ramblings posted here and my very brief profile info to really know who the hell I am.

I could go on with this and even add a discussion about social psychology, motivation, and personality tests, but I'm getting a little sick of how serious I'm being right now and miss the the humor a bit.

So, I'm ending this for now...

Back And Slightly Better Than Ever

My plan is to go back and add posts than I probably would have written if I had actually maintained this blog over the course of the summer break and then pretend that the blog has always looked like this.

Yay for denial!

That is all.

Now for something different.

First, I am very surprised to find that the Government class that I was kinda forced into due to circumstances I don't want to take about 'cause it depresses me is not actually that bad. It will still be a little horrible 'cause I hate the topic with a passion greater than any hate ever known to man or beast, but the teacher seems like he could make it at least mildly interesting. Plus, I assumed that because it was class about government, it would also be about politics as well. Yes and no. It's impossible to completely separate the two because politics influences government, but it's not a political science class so not as much politics as I thought there would be.

All of my other classes are going to be a ton of work but fun as hell, except for the class that shall not be named 'cause it depresses me. Other than that, it will be awesome.

Oh, and I have no class on Fridays, which is good since the rest of the week except Monday will be so full, I doubt I will receive much sleep. On Fridays I can crash and hopefully not burn.