Thursday, July 31, 2008

Orcs Have No Prom: Part 1

Quick question: Where are the girl orcs?

I’ve read The Lord of the Rings and the Silmarillian dozens of times. I’ve seen the moves three or four times all the way through. I have killed, literally, hundreds of thousands of orcs while playing video games and DnD. I have even played an orc on a few occasions.

Yet, I rarely hear mention of the female of the species. Tolkien, if I remember correctly, said that orcs were tortured elves and that the orcs bred more when evil was strong. I cannot, however, recall a single female orc ever being mentioned.

Obviously, there have to be some around somewhere. They would have to be pretty tough and/or vicious as well, to survive both childbirth and frankly, other orcs.

This sort of explains a lot about orc culture in so much that they don’t really have one. Think about it: what do guys do when there aren’t any women around? They drink beer and watch football. If they’re without women for an extended period of time, it gets even worse. First the hygiene goes, then the trash doesn’t get taken out, the toilet doesn’t get scrubbed, and pretty soon, guys are building fires in their living rooms, painting themselves with mud, carrying sharp weapons, and following the Dark Lord.

Tomorrow: Part 2

Wednesday, July 30, 2008

Tough Jobs

The other day I noticed that one of the ‘educational’ channels was launching a new show called ‘Hard Hats.’ It is yet another reality show that follows the lives of a bunch of steel workers in (I think) LA.

This new show joins Deadliest Catch, Axe-Men, Ice-Road Truckers, and probably some show I’m forgetting in celebrating the lives of guys with dangerous and often horrible jobs.

Now, before you leave a comment complaining that these jobs are not ‘horrible’ and that I, being a limp-wristed computer jockey, know nothing about them, let me point out that my dad was a contractor and I grew up on job sites. I even cut my finger off in a table saw once, so there.

NOTE: When I say ‘off’ I mean ‘off,’ as in ‘dangling by a strip of skin.’ The surgeons put it back on, though.

So, let me just say that I fully empathize with these guys. I do know what it’s like to be very high in the air, utilizing power tools, and hoping a sudden shift in the wind doesn’t pitch you off the side. That sort of experience is what led me to pursue a life of relative safety with computers. Well, that and my dad’s favorite game: ‘Yes, the Power’s Off’ (it never was).

However, I can’t shake the feeling that the people that make these shows are going to run out of ideas sooner or later. After all, there are only so many dangerous, physical jobs out there to be filmed. Pretty soon, there’re going to be shows like ‘Crossing Guard: Life Between the Lines’ or ‘Fry Cook: Life and Death in a Fast Food Kitchen.’

So, let me suggest the most horrible job I can think of for a new reality show:

Public High-School Janitor

This might not sound too bad to you, but my high school bathrooms were some of the most horrible, fetid, nasty places I have ever seen. I literally never used a toilet for the four years I was there. If I really had to go, I ran across the street to the Jack in the Box.

We used to literally dare people to go use the bathrooms. Freshman would throw themselves in garbage cans rather than face the possibility of being tossed into a stall. The bathrooms were a no-man’s land, where only the insane or desperate would venture.

Forget driving across a frozen lake. Forget welding steel 20 stories up. Try cleaning a 1920’s toilet that has been regularly used by a couple hundred teenage boys with the hygiene of Uruk-Hai.

That, my friends, takes a real man.


Tuesday, July 29, 2008


For those of you who loved the original TRON, a new film is in the works! I don't know if it will be a remake (or 'reimagining') or an actual sequel, but it does have Jeff Bridges.

Check out the Light Cycle action!!


Sunday, July 27, 2008

Disappointingly Good

On Friday night, I sat down to watch In the Name of the King: A Dungeon Siege Tale with Leigh and his wife.

Our previous exposure to Uwe Boll movies had been House of the Dead, which was so bad it was hysterically funny. I have also seen BloodRayne, which though not as funny as HotD, it did have its moments.

In the Name of the King was disappointedly good, in that it wasn't nearly as bad as I'd hoped. It was just a bad fantasy movie that used a lot of shots straight out of LotR.

So, I guess, Uwe Boll is getting better. Good for him, though I kind of miss the old Uwe, with ravers fighting zombies with kung-fu, machine guns, and bullet time. There was a certain purity in the hilarious weirdness, where you can't believe that he just did what he did, but were delighted he did it.

Did that make sense? Hard to tell.

Anyhow, there will be the regular update on Tuesday and blogs the rest of the week, as usual.


Thursday, July 24, 2008

Reality Politics: Part 2

Here’s my idea. We find a log cabin somewhere in the middle of nowhere. We mike and camera everything in a ten-mile radius around it, including the outdoor toilet.

The cabin will be simple, with no electricity or running water, but it will be stocked with a week’s worth of food and the tools and supplies necessary to survive and provide food.

We take the two candidates and dump them there for three months.

Then, as a nation, we watch them.

The first week, maybe, they’ll be able to keep ‘on message’ so to speak, but once the food starts to run out and they have to start fending for themselves, we’ll get to see the REAL candidates.

We’ll see who whines and pouts, who shirks work or doesn’t do their fair share. We’ll see who isn’t afraid to kill spiders or go out and get dinner. We’ll see which one of them can really lead and which one can’t take it.

At the end of the three months, they get to come out and one week later, we hold an open forum so they can answer questions about what they did and why. Then, we vote.

Like my dad used to say: ‘You don’t know a man ‘till you’ve seen him get in a bar fight in- Dammit! Fire stays outside the house!’

Dad didn’t get to finish saying very often.


Wednesday, July 23, 2008

Reality Politics: Part 1

If you have been paying attention over the last, oh say year, you may have come to the realization that an election is coming up. Actually, there’s been so much coverage that babies are coming out of the womb with firm opinions about the next presidential election. This is obviously not true, because if it were, politicians would be aggressively advertising to the unborn.

“Do you know where your diapers will be made? Are you concerned about the rising costs of rattles, pacifiers, and those annoying popper things you push around? Do you wonder what will the world be like when you finally arrive?”

“If so, vote for me, Bob SoAndSo, the only candidate who truly understands the needs of the not-yet born.”

“This inter-uterine message has been approved by me, Bob SoAndSo.”

NOTE: This would imply that television signals can be beamed at fetuses, which would probably be bad in several ways.

Anyhow, the basic problem with the upcoming election and indeed, any election, is that politicians lie. Well, maybe not all of them, but even the ones who don’t have had every word sanitized for maximum impact and minimum chance of offending anybody. You’re not so much voting for a politician, rather you’re voting for a finely honed product that the campaign managers think you’ll like.

NOTE: Yes, I am slightly cynical.

Therefore, you can’t get a good feel for the person. You can’t judge who’s truly got strength of character, who would make a good leader, who would cry when Bambi’s mother got shot, or who screams like a girl.

What we really need is a way to view these men and women off-camera, so to speak, where we can learn what they’re really about.

Ladies and gentleman, I have the answer.

Reality Politics

Tomorrow: The Idea

Tuesday, July 22, 2008

Food to Avoid

The other day, whilst on my weekly errands (grocery shop, get gas, fight ninjas, eschew vegetables, etc), I noticed a large sign on the outside wall of the nearby gas station. It was one of those combo gas stations/convenience stores/mortuaries that are omnipresent nowadays.

Anyhow, the sign read ‘2 Corn Dogs for 99 cents!’ This gave me pause. Corn dogs, if you didn’t know, are basically the lowest rung of the ‘meat-in-a-tube’ family of foods. These are the hot dogs that weren’t considered palatable enough to sold individually, so someone shoved a stick in them and covered them in breading.

NOTE: I originally typed ‘shoved a stick in their bums,’ but realized that hot dogs do not have bums. This is probably for the best, as it would make eating them kinda weird.

So basically, the sign read ‘The cheapest possible meat-like product at a discount!’

I thought long and hard about this and after great debate decided that I, a person who once ate a piece of salami that fell on the carpet, would not purchase and consume these corn dogs. Frankly (heh), I’m not seventeen anymore. I can afford to buy food that is identifiable as having come from an animal.

Like my dad used to say: ‘If a deals too good to be true, then it- hey, no chainsaws in the house!’

Dad was easily distracted.


Monday, July 21, 2008

An Inspirational Story

Here's a pretty funny bit I found detailing the plight of an unusual athlete.

Tomorrow: Two For 99 Cents

Sunday, July 20, 2008

Not Much Going On

It was a good weekend over all. Shopped, worked out, watched the final episodes of Avatar, hung out, argued over the grammatical rules of Pig Latin.

No, really. We were that bored.

I also did see the Dark Knight and enjoyed it a great deal. I will post some thoughts on it tomorrow.

And possible more about Pig Latin.


Thursday, July 17, 2008

Dr. Horrible's Sing-Along Blog

I was going to post the last bit of Confidentiality, but this takes precedence. This is one of the single, funniest things I have ever seen.

I'm posting it now, as it will be offline next week. Thanks to Gillsing for letting me know this.

This is Dr. Horrible's Sing-Along Blog. Written by Joss Whedon and starring Neil Patrick Harris, Nathan Fillian, and Felicia Day. The last episode will air on Saturday.

It is frelling and frakking fantastic.

Behold: Dr. Horrible:


Wednesday, July 16, 2008

Confidentiality: Part 2

I now know more about this random stranger’s sex life (and that of her friends) than I do my own and that’s saying something, as I live in my head. She used terms, frankly, that I would be shocked to learn my mother already knew.

This woman was already talking when I sat down and was still going when I got up. It was a tsunami of gossip, innuendo, dirt, more gossip, a couple of fetishes I hadn’t heard of, more innuendo, more dirt, and then a complete abandonment of innuendo, featuring graphic descriptions of various people’s body parts and what they liked to do with them.

Note: Steve and Cheryl, you should be ashamed of yourselves. Or film it and start selling it on the web. Either one.

It was amazing, but it got me thinking. You all know I’m sure, about doctor/patient confidentiality laws, which also include lawyer/client and priest/parishioner. This basically states that your doctor can’t tell anyone about things going on in your body without your permission, no matter how funny they might be. Well, after listening to that woman, I think Hairdressers (including stylists, barbers, and anyone else connected to the hair-removal/trimming professions) need this same law applied to them, because that woman would be in so much trouble if her stylist told the wrong person a tenth of what she said.

Tomorrow: The Conclusion!

Tuesday, July 15, 2008

Confidentiality: Part 1

I got my hair cut the other day. Hardly news worthy, I know. It can be a bit of an adventure, as I have to remove my glasses while the stylist works, so I have no idea what they’re doing. They could literally be cutting their initials into my hair and I would be completely clueless. In general, I have had pretty good luck, as only one stylist has attempted to give me a ‘Flock of Seagulls-esque’ pompadour. A few others have gotten fancy, but that’s another story.

Anyway, there I was, sitting in a chair, completely blind, and trusting that the stylist isn’t having a bad day and recreating Edward Munch’s ‘Scream’ on the back of my head.

NOTE: I have a stylist. I would rather have a barber, but the stylist is okay. My basic problem with a stylist is that they have a tendency to get, how shall we say, artsy. I don’t want art, I want my hair to not look like I just French-kissed an electrical socket.

NOTE: I do not recommend French-kissing an electrical socket. Or kissing an electrical socket in general. Frankly, I would advise against a physical relationship of any kind with an electrical socket. Unless, of course, you really, really love each other.

So, I’m in the chair, not saying anything, as I don’t like to chat when I’m getting my hair cut (‘cause I want the person with the scissors to be paying attention to my hair). In the next chair over, however, is a woman who is telling her stylist everything. And I mean EVERYTHING.

Tomorrow: More of EVERYTHING

Monday, July 14, 2008

Warning: No Lightsabers

I have been accused in the past of only posting videos of people being cut in half by lightsabers. I plead mostly guilty. Sometimes I post videos of people being cut in half by other things.

Or blown up.

Or cut in half and then blown up.

Regardless, I have decided to post not one, but two videos today.

The first is just cute.

The next one is actually heartwarming. It's a true story involving men and a predator.

See, not one decapitation or dismemberment.

Tomorrow: Haircuts


Sunday, July 13, 2008

PINS and Needles

Well, I'm going to start this blog off by saying that I finally remembered my PIN. Many of you have emailed and commented on this, so thanks for your helpful suggestions (though I don't think I'll be getting a 'PIN tattoo.'

The prologue to the story is that after I remembered my PIN, I also remembered a mathematical device I created to help me remember the stupid thing.

NOTE: Anyone who knows me is laughing right now at the thought of me creating some sort of mathematical cypher (even my mother).

I have taken the step of writing down my PIN number in a safe place where no one will randomly happen upon it. Granted, I now have to remember where that is.

Look for a new page on Tuesday! And blogs about getting a haircut. Really.


Thursday, July 10, 2008

Where the Bad Guys Go to Go: Part 2

Duke Nukem, I think, was the first game wherein I saw a bathroom in-game. Strippers too, actually.

NOTE: Strippers in a video game that is. I had seen them before. Well, once. From a distance. I was outside and they were inside. So, no (and yes), actually.

The other thing you almost never see in a video game is recreational facilities. Strippers sort of count, but I was actually referring to things like pool tables, swimming pools, weight rooms, that sort of thing. Your average Stormtrooper needs somewhere to blow off steam after a long day at the range not hitting the targets.

NOTE: I do not actually know if there are bathrooms listed on the technical blueprints for the Death Star. I would guess ‘yes.’ Someone let me know if I’m right or wrong.

I once drove a manager up the wall by constantly asking for a basketball court whenever he requested lists of new art assets. He finally asked why I kept asking for said basketball court and I replied ‘because the guys need something to do when they’re not fighting.’ Needless to say, the court was never made.

So what’s my point? Heck if I know. It’s probably something about how including real-life fixtures in video games help increase immersion and depth. Do you need bathrooms in games? No, but I think they can add value to a product.

Oh and can somebody tell me where the bathrooms are in Orgrimmar? My 70th Hunter hasn’t gone, well, ever.


Wednesday, July 9, 2008

The Most Awesome Music Video Ever

Yet another one that comes to you via my workplace, this video is, frankly, the most awesome music video ever done. It has axes, pistols, zombies, lasers, and Mikhail Gorbachev. Who could ask for anything more?

It is a touch risqué, so it might not be work friendly.


Tuesday, July 8, 2008

Where the Bad Guys Go to Go

The other day, I was busy at work, assembling a bathroom as part of a level I’m working on.

NOTE: I’m currently a level designer. I construct levels for video games. I did not actually build a bathroom. Well, I did, but in the game. Not in real life. I have actually built bathrooms in real life. Really. Ergo: I can build bathrooms in a variety of realities.

My boss happened into the office and said “What’re you working on?”

“A bathroom,” I replied, not adding the ‘duh’ on the end.

He paused for a second. “Why?”

I turned to look at him. “So the bad guys have a place to poop.”

He considered that. “Cool.”

I then showed him the kitchen I’d built (again, in the game, though I have built kitchens in real life too). I did not bother to tell him that that was where the bad guys got the food that they then turned into poop.

This is actually something that bugs in video games and a lot of movies. There are never bathrooms. You see the occasional kitchen and plenty of barracks, but you rarely ever see a bathroom. Doom 3, for example, had plenty of closets for critters to attack you from, but only two bathrooms in the entire game. They both happened to be towards the beginning of the game, which leads me to believe that the poor guys at the far end of the complex either had to learn to hold it or were issued Depends as part of their standard uniform.

Later: Part 2 brought to you by the number 2.

Monday, July 7, 2008

My First Senior Moment

A ‘senior moment’ is what my mom calls it when she momentarily forgets something, such as my name, who I am, and why I’m in her house. We always have a good laugh about it afterwards, though I have taken to hiding her shotgun ammo whenever I happen to visit.

So, last Sunday, I was a the local supermarket, purchasing my weekly allotment of Captain Crunch, Coke, and other products beginning with ‘C.’ Yes, I have the eating habits of an 9-year-old, though I dare say my collection of plastic cereal toys is unrivaled (for example, I have all the Indiana Jones light-up spoons).

NOTE: I don’t actually use the Indiana Jones light up spoons to eat my cereal. I’m keeping them in mint condition for when they become collector’s items (seriously).

I finished shopping and went to stand in the line to the self-service check out, where I surreptitiously read the covers of fashion magazines. A scanner opened up and I quickly and efficiently scanned in my items and then attempted to pay. I swiped my debit card and punched in the number, only to have ‘Incorrect PIN’ shine back at me.

I entered it again, with the same result. I then realized, I could not, for the life of me, remember my PIN number.

Now, in general, I have an excellent memory. I can recall events with amazing clarity, down to what people were wearing and the conversations that were held. Though, like Cassandra, nobody ever believes me when I point out what actually happened or was said. Frankly, just because they don’t remember the clown, it doesn’t mean it wasn’t there.

So, there I am, standing there at the self-service check-out, staring at the PIN pad. I am painfully aware that there is a large line of people waiting for me to leave and probably wondering why I’m staring at the pad with a stupid expression. Just for the hell of it, I try again, with the same result.

I cannot remember my stupid PIN. I can remember the one I had previously. I can remember the one I had before that. I can even remember my brother’s, as I had to make a deposit for him once over fifteen-years ago. Yet I cannot remember the number I’ve used three to six times a week for the past three years.

Thinking quickly (for once), I then use my credit card, as it doesn’t require a PIN, gather my groceries and receipt and exit the store.

Of course, I can now recall my PIN and have had a good laugh over the incident with the blokes down at the pub.

I’m lying. I haven’t used my debit card since then and I am still not sure what my PIN is. I think I know, but am not sure. I suppose I could call my bank and ask, but I would feel foolish doing so (as opposed to telling all of you about it).

Anyway, I suppose I’ll have to use it again at some point. I’m sure I’ll just punch the numbers again without thinking about it. I’m pretty sure. I hope. I think one of the numbers was even . . .


Sunday, July 6, 2008


Wayfarer’s Moon had a bit of a milestone last week. We hit #18 on Buzz Comics, our highest ever ranking. This means that lots of people are voting for us, which we genuinely appreciate

However, we really want to be #1. So, as an incentive, if you happen to run into us and you mention that you vote for WM regularly, we may give you a genuine US nickel.

Yes, that’s right, a real, honest-to-god, nickel! They’re made out of some shiny metal and have stuff engraved on them! Worth nearly 5 cents, they can be exchanged for goods and services ANYWHERE in the US!

NOTE: Offer only good if one of us happens to have a nickel

Honestly, all kidding aside, we really do appreciate the votes. Both Leigh and I nearly wept (in a manly, bear-punching way) when we saw that we were #18.

So, please, keep on voting.

Tune in tomorrow for a new blog!


Wednesday, July 2, 2008

A Couple Things . . .

It's Thursday again! Which means a video plucked fresh the perpetual torrent that gets passed around at work.

Today, I have two for you.

This one is about WoW and contains science (you've been warned), but is extremely funny. I could not find a way to embed this, so here's a link:

This one is really short, but is also quite funny.


Tuesday, July 1, 2008

This Blog is Rated ‘S’ for Stupidity

I watch a fair number of movies and have noticed that the MPAA ratings seem to be getting weirdly specific. For example, a PG film used to say ‘Some material may be inappropriate for younger children.’ This was fine and dandy.

Now, however, they’re getting more and more specific about what’s actually in the film. The Spiderwick Chronicles, for example, was “Rated PG for scary creature action and violence, peril and some thematic elements.” Stardust was rated “PG-13 for fantasy violence and some risqué humor.” Saw III was rated R for “grisly violence, and gore, terror, language and drug content.”

NOTE: I have no idea why all the movies I listed began with ‘S.’ I blame my mother.

Obviously, the MPAA is trying to give parents a greater degree of information so they can make informed choices about what they’re kids are watching. However, if you can’t guess that The Texas Chainsaw Massacre: The Next Generation contains “demented mayhem and torture, and strong language,” you probably aren’t paying attention.

However, being the concerned citizen that I am, I have decided to create some new, more informative rating descriptions for the MPAA.

“Rated PG for comedic violence to the groin with a baseball.”
“Rated PG-13 for language, including the ‘F’ word, the ‘S’ word, the ‘PH’ word, and several misused vowels.”
“Rated R for a really sweet scene where I guy gets machine-gunned by a Chihuahua.”
“Rated R for strong sexual content, nudity, heavy petting, 1st through 3rd base, and a designated hitter.”
“Rated NC-17 for some seriously demented Sh*t. Seriously. We totally warned you.”
“Rated R for sexual misuse of Mexican food.”
“Rated G for cuteness. Teddy Bears are singing and dancing. Your five-year-old will love it. You will be bored out of your mind.”
“Rated PG-13 for stupidity. We warned you.”
“Rated R for something. We didn’t actually watch it, but the poster looked kinda violent. There’s a guy with a gun, so we figured an ‘R’ was a safe bet.”
“Rated NC-17 for being incomprehensible, weird, nonsensical, cacophonic, and in French.”