Twitter: Part 2

Basically, even if I wanted to Twitter, I really wouldn’t know what to Twit about. My ego is not quite large enough to think that a bunch of people would actually want to know what I’m doing on a minute by minute basis.

NOTE: My ego is actually growing at an exponential pace. Soon I will need to reserve two seats on flights just to accommodate it.

So, in lieu of me actually Twittering, I figured I would come up with a list of standard activities that I routinely engage for you, the reader, to choose from. If you’re ever wondering what I’m doing at a given moment, you can then consult the list at random and be reasonably certain that I’m actually doing that.

For you nerds out there, print it out and keep a twenty-sided die handy. Roll it and use the following chart to determine what I’m up to!

1. I’m staring blankly at the computer screen because I’ve forgotten what I’m doing.
2. I’m exercising.
3. I’m arguing the merits of AD&D vs all the other D&D systems (THACO sucks).
4. I’m working on Wayfarer’s Moon.
5. I’m working on some random writing project that involves people hitting each other with vegetables.
6. I’m not sleeping due to chronic insomnia.
7. I’m hallucinating at work, because I didn’t sleep the night before (or have been drugged by my coworkers).
8. Fighting ninjas.
9. Sitting in the dark, crying.
10. I’m writing a blog.
11. Pondering man’s inhumanity to man.
12. A random movie quote has just flashed through my mind and I can’t recall what movie it’s from. This is driving me insane.
13. Playing hackey-sack with my coworkers in the parking lot.
14. I’m swearing at the computer, ‘cause the AI in my level won’t FREAKIN’ DO WHAT I WANT IT TO!
15. Fondly remembering a bygone era that I’ve idealized to the point of ludicrousness.
16. Dating a super model.
17. Getting shot down by a super model.
18. Talking to a coworker. There is a 73% chance it is not work related. There is an additional 12% chance the conversation is really, really stupid.
19. Talking to Leigh.
20. Playing D&D or thinking about playing D&D.
Cheers,
-Jason

Twitter: Part 1

A few days ago, a reader suggested I should start Twittering. Here is the actual email:

Hello.

I am a Nigerian prince who has ben fled the country of Nigeria. Because of the sudden of my leaving, I lose much money. I am look for a good friend to help. Are you a good friend? Do you like large men with many muscles? Everyone says I am best man in whole of Nigeria.

Oh, wait. Wrong email. Here’s the actual text:

You should totally twitter.

Now, I’ve heard of Twitter, but wasn’t exactly sure what it entails. Apparently, you send very small messages (140 characters or less) to friends and such (I assume). 140 characters is not much. I’m not sure I can express the wonder and majesty that is my life in a mere 140 characters (91 characters, if we’re counting spaces).

The other question: what the hell would I twitter about? (56)

I realize my life sounds exciting. I mean, I design video games and have a (barely noticed) blog. In reality, designing video games is a lot of hard work. Sure, I fight ninjas, race speedboats, romance super models, and find forgotten cities of gold on a weekly (daily, if we’re crunching) basis, but trust me, it’s not as exciting after you’ve been doing it a few years.

Tomorrow: Part 2

Holiday off.

No page this week. I'm feeling a bit under the weather (as in sick, not as in trapped under a snowdrift) and so I'm taking advantage of the holiday.
Back to the normal schedule next week.

-Leigh

The Russ Manning Award!

So, if you haven't heard yet, our own Leigh Kellogg has been nominated for the 2009 Russ Manning Award!

This is a very prestigious award and Leigh would be the first to tell you it's an honor just to be nominated. We'll find out who won at the San Diego Comic Con, when the Eisner Awards are given out.

Obviously, I'm rooting for Leigh, but congratulations to all the other nominees as well!

In other news, I created a Tyrannasaurus Rex in my basement from frog DNA and have tamed it. I will be riding it into battle against Gorgoth the Unholy and his zombie armythis weekend. Obviously, the fate of the world rests on my shoulders (again), but there you go.

Well, in truth, I don't have a basement (or a T-Rex or an Unholy Terror to stop, or frankly, any plans this weekend). I do have some frog DNA though. At least, I think that's what it is. It might just be fridge mold.

So, yeah.

Anyway, the latest installment of Art the Wanderer will appear on Monday and there will be a new page on Tuesday.

Everyone have a fun and safe Memorial Day!

Cheers,
-Jason

Simon Says: Part 2

For those of you who don’t know, Simon Says is very, very simple. One player is ‘Simon’ and tells the other players what to do. If your boss happens to be named ‘Simon,’ this would be very familiar. Legal commands start with ‘Simon says’ and you need to do them to continue. If a command does not start with ‘Simon says,’ you must not do it.

Legal commands would include:
Simon says stand on your left foot.
Simon says point up.
Simon says reflect on your life as a tool of the bourgeois Capitalist Imperial State.
Simon says ponder nothingness.

That’s pretty much it. If Simon uses the magic words, you do it. If not, don’t. This is fascinatingly unlike the real world.

Frankly, there really ought to be a Professional Simon Says League. The beauty is that it’s a completely level field. Other than an ability to follow the language being used, it is completely neutral in regards to gender, age, athletic ability, race, creed, religion, sexual orientation, political affiliation, favorite dessert, handiness, or IQ.

You could have a team of 4th graders competing against Wall Street brokers. Republicans vs. Democrats. Budweiser vs. Coors. Superheroes vs. the Mole People of Cignus IV.

It would rock. At least until the inevitable steroid scandals, the gambling, drugs, and the immense, inflated salaries took their toll. Granted, these sorts of problems haven’t hurt any other professional sport, so there you go.

Cheers,
-Jason

Simon Says: Part 1

There was a discussion about professional sports going on the other day at work. Since I’m smack dab in the middle of a cube farm, I pretty much hear everything that goes on around me.

NOTE: Yes, George, I can hear you picking your nose.

NOTE: NOTE: I was going to use ‘Steve,’ but there is an actual Steve that sits by me and I didn’t want to accidently imply that he picks his nose. I mean, I don’t honestly know. He might. However, he is a man of taste and intelligence, so I would imagine that if he did, he would do so privately.

NOTE: NOTE: NOTE: And his wife makes AMAZING scones.

Anyway, apparently there was a baseball game where the home team won by a touchdown in the last frame. Since the visiting team failed to pick up the spare, they had to ‘plink the mushroom’ in order to get the ‘funny bone’ out of the patient in time to shout ‘Uno!’

Yes, I have no idea what I’m talking about (though ‘plinking the mushroom’ sounds like fun). Anyway, the guys were talking about this baseball game and using all sorts of strange and intimidating jargon. I was half-listening, as I’m nosy that way, and realized that professional sports would be more approachable if the rules were simpler.

For example: Baseball, on the surface, is pretty simple. I get that a guy tries to hit the ball and run around the bases. If he makes it all the way, his team scores a point (or run or something). Once you take it beyond that, it gets rather complicated. The 1st baseman has to catch the ball and touch the bag to get the runner out. The second baseman has to tag the runner. The third baseman has to tackle the runner and wrest the Sacred Chalice of Northumbria from him, lest the Dragon of Upper-Cheddar appear and let fly with his macaroni breath.

Or something.

It then occurred to me that what we need are professional sports where the rules can be stated in one sentence.

Such as, oh, Simon Says.

Wallace & Grommit

I'm pooped. The weather changes (it's been bouncing between 40 and 70 all week) have been playing havoc with my allergies and I haven't been sleeping well (or much, as the case may be). This may explain this week's blogs, but I'm kinda like that anyway.

In other news, Telltale Games has sent the latest chapter of the Wallace & Grommit game along. If you like W&G and the adventure game genre, I would highly recommend them.

In other news, I'm pooped. Did I mention that? Yep.

No big plans this weekend, save for maybe renting a movie or two and getting some writing done. But not at the same time.

Look for a new page on Tuesday and a new installment of Art the Wanderer on Monday.

Cheers,
-Jason

Krunk Funny!: Part 2

Wait, where was I? Oh yes . . .

So what kind of comedy would orcs prefer? I’m going to guess that keen observational comedy or political satires really aren’t their thing. I would suspect that their tastes run to simpler fair. Think broad physical humor such as Abbot and Costello. Only as orcs. With swords. And one of them dies at end.

Simple word plays would also probably prove very popular.

“Knock knock.

Who’s there?

The orc.

The orc who?

The orc who’s going to kill you, desecrate your remains, and then burn down your home!”

Though not really comedy, I would imagine that sleight-of-hand would also go over very well.

“And now, sawing a Man in half!” Proceeds to saw a Man in half to riotous cheering.

Despite its simple structures and penchant for bloodletting and outright savagery, I would hesitate to call orc comedy lowbrow. I would imagine there would be a delicate undercurrent to their work, an almost melancholy air as the orc comedians struggle to define and illuminate the rich culture and history of their people. Their examinations of cherished orc traditions, their (perhaps unsubtle) views of the world hold up a mirror to the orc peoples and ask ‘Is this all we are? Can we not find a place where we can all live in peace?’

Actually, no. I’m totally messing with you. Orc comedy basically revolves around orcs killing others and each other horribly. And yes, I majored in English (hence the truly amazing b.s. of the preceding paragraph).

If I had to guess, I would say the Mouth of Sauron got his start as a comedian:


Cheers,
-Jason

Krunk Funny!: Part 1

I was thinking about orcs the other day. I don’t know why I do this. Most people think about sane things like mortgages, their jobs, getting braces for Junior, and lawn care. Me, orcs. And stormtroopers. And Cthulhu waking up after untold millennia of sleep, checking his watch and going ‘Crap! I overslept by three thousand years!’ and rushing off to get his tentacles waxed.

But, as is typical, I digress.

So, orcs. I was wondering, in those moments in betwixt fighting, eating, making more orcs, and the civic light opera, what do orcs do for fun? My first thought was ‘macaroni ducks,’ but they’d probably just eat the macaroni and the paste (and frankly, the paper plates). Also, lacking fridges, they would have no real place to display them. Not to mention the fact that they probably don’t know what a duck looks like. If they ever got that far into the process, they’d probably just end up making ‘macaroni orcs’ and then get into a fight over whose was better.

NOTE: Macaroni Saurons could be a nice alternative.

Then it hit me: stand-up comedy. Other than a good sense of humor and the ability to shout, you don’t really need any equipment. Unless, of course, you were a prop comic, in which case you’d just need a variety of severed heads, of which there would probably be dozens just lying around.

Tomorrow: Part 2

This is Cool

This went 'round work the other day and I though it was very, very cool. I didn't even know you could do stuff like this on a bicycle.

It starts out rather slow, but give it a minute. It gets better . . .


Cheers,
-Jason

San Diego Comic Con!

As you might have noticed, Leigh and I have been accepted at the San Diego Comic Con!

We will be there all four days, hawking our wares and being generally overwhelmed by the near-endless tides of people. I am both excited and stunned by getting in, as I was pretty sure we wouldn't. I don't know why not, I just kind of assumed that we wouldn't.

Seriously. I honestly thought we wouldn't.

Imagine my surprise when I got the envelope. My first thought was 'Holy crap! We got in!' followed closely by 'Holy crap, we need a flight, hotel, more comics, more bookmarks, a rental car, and an actual camera for taking pictures!'

I then fainted, only to be awakened by a dog peeing on me.

Anyway, there will be more info upcoming (and don't forget, we'll be at the Olympia Comics Festival next month). Look for an update to Art the Wanderer on Monday and a new page on Tuesday.

Cheers,
-Jason

The Isthmus Gland

If you watch any television at all, you will probably have noticed a plethora of commercials for a variety of ‘magical’ weight loss products. All of these commercials claim that if you take their supplement and ‘eat right and exercise,’ you’re practically guaranteed* to lose weight.

*Supplement is only to be used under a doctor’s orders. Studies have shown that the supplement, if combined with diet and exercise, will cause weight loss. The supplement is just that good. Seriously. The diet and exercise have almost nothing to do with it. Because everyone knows, diet and exercise just won’t cut it. You need a REALLY expensive pill to provide the real weight loss magic.

These supplements generally claim to stimulate some portion of the anatomy, but the funny thing is, they never claim to stimulate the same part. One pill flexes your adrenal glands, another constricts your duodenum, while yet another gets your pituitary in a headlock and makes it produce whatever the hell a pituitary produces.

NOTE: I love the word ‘duodenum.’ It’s (almost) my favorite body part. I don’t actually know what it does, though I like to think it makes us unpalatable to hostile aliens intent on consuming the human race for food.

You’d think that that if there were a magic weight loss organ, modern science would have found it and used it to make boatloads of cash. “Eat all you want” the ads would blare. “We’ll just hyper stimulate your Isthmus Gland and you’ll never gain a pound.” And while they’re at it, they’ll tickle your Fjord Prospect and you’ll grow three inches, while gently caressing your Hippo Conflux to make you irresistible to super models.

Obviously, the thing that actually works is eating right and exercising. But that’s boring and difficult, which is how these companies make their money.

Though having your Fjord Prospect ticked sounds like a good time.

Cheers,
-Jason

I Got Nothin'

No funny today. Funny tomorrow. Long day. Very tired. Sleep now.

ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ

Cheers,
-Jason

TNG

A buddy of mine turned me onto these Star Trek: TNG shorts. The maker has recut TNG episodes for, how shall I say, comedic value. They're weird, but some of them are staggeringly funny.

Be warned, some are not work safe. Or safe for children. Or dogs. Or your brain, for that matter.

There are a lot more of these on YouTube, but here's a sample:


Cheers,
-Jason