Today, September 19th, is Talk Like a Pirate Day.
It was started by two guys who, for a variety of reasons, decided that there needed to be a day when everyone talked like a pirate. You can visit their website here: http://www.talklikeapirate.com/piratehome.html.
I wholly support this day and will endeavor to call my friends dirty bilge rats at every opportunity. Just to mix it up, I might also call them filthy bilge rats.
This does raise a question, however: why do pirates say Arrrrr? I have actually tried to look this up, but have found nothing of note. Was there some pirate captain long ago with a speech impediment? Did they do it just to mess with people and it stuck? Does it just sound fierce?
Here is my personal theory: I have said Arrrr on a couple of occasions when I was in so much pain that I went completely inarticulate. For example, the time when I accidentally tore out a toenail (as opposed to the time I did it on purpose). When it happened, I ended up dancing around while holding my foot and making sort of an extended growl that was pretty close to an Arrrr.
So, at some point, there was a pirate who, in the course of his piratical duties, was injured and went Arrrrr! The other pirates thought this was cool and begin imitating him. Or, alternatively, they thought it was funny and began mocking him, as pirates have never been known for their sensitivity.
At any rate, pirates go Arrrr (and the cow goes Mooo and the dog goes Woof and the Black Mamba makes no sound at all). So be sure to say Arrrr, matey! a few times today. All the cool kids are doing it.
Arrrrr,
-Jason
Wednesday, September 19, 2007
Monday, September 17, 2007
A New Pizza
I caught a new commercial the other day. This is from Dominos and features their new Oreo Dessert Pizza (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UkEc67m_jvM) if you are really interested).
It is apparently a pizza made out of Oreos, drizzled in Oreo sauce (I presume), on some sort of probably sugary crust.
I had two immediate reactions upon seeing this commercial:
1) That thing will kill you
2) I totally want to eat one of those
Pizza, despite its innate deliciousness, is horrible for you. So, what better way to finish the meal than by eating another pizza made almost entirely of sugar? I anticipate there will soon be an Appetizer Pizza made out of nachos and French fries (which frankly, sounds fantastic).
I do not know what to think about the Oreo Pizza. On the one hand, this is America, a country where we are free to eat whatever we want (its in the Constitution, right after we are guaranteed the right to play the kazoo in public). On the other hand, we are fat enough as it is. On the other, other hand, nothing rhymes with orange.
So, eat an Oreo Pizza if you are so inclined. Or not. If you happen to be a representative of Dominos and like the sound of the Appetizer Pizza, lets talk.
Cheers,
-Jason
It is apparently a pizza made out of Oreos, drizzled in Oreo sauce (I presume), on some sort of probably sugary crust.
I had two immediate reactions upon seeing this commercial:
1) That thing will kill you
2) I totally want to eat one of those
Pizza, despite its innate deliciousness, is horrible for you. So, what better way to finish the meal than by eating another pizza made almost entirely of sugar? I anticipate there will soon be an Appetizer Pizza made out of nachos and French fries (which frankly, sounds fantastic).
I do not know what to think about the Oreo Pizza. On the one hand, this is America, a country where we are free to eat whatever we want (its in the Constitution, right after we are guaranteed the right to play the kazoo in public). On the other hand, we are fat enough as it is. On the other, other hand, nothing rhymes with orange.
So, eat an Oreo Pizza if you are so inclined. Or not. If you happen to be a representative of Dominos and like the sound of the Appetizer Pizza, lets talk.
Cheers,
-Jason
Friday, September 14, 2007
Darger of the High, Soft Boots: Part 3
I then decided to open the first door in the hallway, which I did.
Darger found himself face-to-face with five orcs in an otherwise perfectly empty room. Why there were five orcs in a perfectly empty room is one of those great mysteries of life. Maybe they were interior decorators? Maybe they were lost? No one will ever know, as I did not ask. I was nine. Five orcs in a perfectly empty room seemed eminently logical.
Darger looked at the orcs. The orcs looked at Darger.
I decided five-on-one was bad odds. I decided to talk to them. This was my first ever attempt at roleplay.
Me: Hi.
Orc#1: Hi.
Loooooong pause.
Me: Are you orcs?
Orc#1: Yes.
Looooong pause.
Me: I am a fighter.
Orc#1: Cool.
Loooooong pause.
Orc#1: Did you kill the rat.
Me: Yes.
Orc#1: Lets be friends.
Me: Okay.
Looooong pause.
Orc#1: There is a vampire in the room next door.
Me: Really?
Orc#1: You shouldnt fight him. Hes tough.
Me: Okay.
Looooong pause.
Me: Im going to leave now.
Orc#1: Bye.
And I left the room. Obviously, not quite Oscar-level performances, but not bad for a nine-year-old talking to a bunch of orcs.
I decided to keep going and wisely skipped the room next door. Why a vampire was living in a room next to five orcs is once again a question that can never be answered.
I opened the third door and discovered a baby red dragon. Flush with excitement after my victory over the rat and successful parley with the orcs, I decided to attack.
I rolled the twenty-sider and was informed that I missed. The dragon attacked me and hit, doing approximately 57,000 points of damage. Darger of the High, Soft Boots was no more.
I was disappointed, but immediately rolled up another character, who also promptly died. We were nine. We did not grasp the concept of level-appropriate encounters. If the random encounter table said Horde of Pit Fiends, by god, we fought a Horde of Pit Fiends (and died). Eventually, we hit upon the concept of running away, so our characters started to live a little longer.
Our DnD group eventually expanded with a couple more guys and we played constantly through early high school, when we started to find new friends and drift apart. Chuck and I kept in touch over the years until, sadly, he died in an accident when he was twenty.
I like to think, however, that somewhere out there, an Ancient Red Dragon is sitting on his massive hoard. His scales are scarred and twisted from countless battles and the bones of hundreds of would-be adventurers are piled high about his lair, mute testament to his might. And at the very bottom of his hoard, almost forgotten, lie the trophies of his first victory: a pair of black Converse All-Stars.
Cheers,
-Jason
Darger found himself face-to-face with five orcs in an otherwise perfectly empty room. Why there were five orcs in a perfectly empty room is one of those great mysteries of life. Maybe they were interior decorators? Maybe they were lost? No one will ever know, as I did not ask. I was nine. Five orcs in a perfectly empty room seemed eminently logical.
Darger looked at the orcs. The orcs looked at Darger.
I decided five-on-one was bad odds. I decided to talk to them. This was my first ever attempt at roleplay.
Me: Hi.
Orc#1: Hi.
Loooooong pause.
Me: Are you orcs?
Orc#1: Yes.
Looooong pause.
Me: I am a fighter.
Orc#1: Cool.
Loooooong pause.
Orc#1: Did you kill the rat.
Me: Yes.
Orc#1: Lets be friends.
Me: Okay.
Looooong pause.
Orc#1: There is a vampire in the room next door.
Me: Really?
Orc#1: You shouldnt fight him. Hes tough.
Me: Okay.
Looooong pause.
Me: Im going to leave now.
Orc#1: Bye.
And I left the room. Obviously, not quite Oscar-level performances, but not bad for a nine-year-old talking to a bunch of orcs.
I decided to keep going and wisely skipped the room next door. Why a vampire was living in a room next to five orcs is once again a question that can never be answered.
I opened the third door and discovered a baby red dragon. Flush with excitement after my victory over the rat and successful parley with the orcs, I decided to attack.
I rolled the twenty-sider and was informed that I missed. The dragon attacked me and hit, doing approximately 57,000 points of damage. Darger of the High, Soft Boots was no more.
I was disappointed, but immediately rolled up another character, who also promptly died. We were nine. We did not grasp the concept of level-appropriate encounters. If the random encounter table said Horde of Pit Fiends, by god, we fought a Horde of Pit Fiends (and died). Eventually, we hit upon the concept of running away, so our characters started to live a little longer.
Our DnD group eventually expanded with a couple more guys and we played constantly through early high school, when we started to find new friends and drift apart. Chuck and I kept in touch over the years until, sadly, he died in an accident when he was twenty.
I like to think, however, that somewhere out there, an Ancient Red Dragon is sitting on his massive hoard. His scales are scarred and twisted from countless battles and the bones of hundreds of would-be adventurers are piled high about his lair, mute testament to his might. And at the very bottom of his hoard, almost forgotten, lie the trophies of his first victory: a pair of black Converse All-Stars.
Cheers,
-Jason
Thursday, September 13, 2007
Darger of the High, Soft Boots: Part 2
Upon entering the dungeon, I found it was a sparse 10-foot wide corridor with doors down one side, approximately every 10-feet. It was, as dungeons go, pretty basic.
I was thrilled. I proceeded down the corridor towards the first door. Now, a more skillful player might have paused to search for traps, hidden doors, or invisible things. I did not. I pretty much charged forward. I was nine.
This is when I encountered the rat. It was, apparently, a big rat. I know because I asked Chuck.
Me: How big?
Chuck: Big.
I could have asked for specifics, but that seemed beside the point. I declared my intention to attack.
Me: I attack it.
Chuck: You cant.
Me: Why not?
Chuck: You dont have your sword out.
This precipitated our second DnD argument, as I pointed out it would be foolish to walk around without ones sword drawn and therefore it would always be drawn, whereas Chuck insisted I had not told him it was drawn. This argument probably lasted another 30-minutes. Finally, I ended it.
Me: Fine! I draw my sword.
Chuck: Okay. You can attack.
Me: What do I do?
Chuck: Roll a 20-sider.
Me: Which one is that?
After a pause to examine all the dice and compare numbers, we figured out which was the 20-sider. I rolled it and Chuck told me I hit (In retrospect, I think he just said I hit. I doubt he knew about to-hit tables). We then had to figure out how to roll damage. 2-8 was a complicated number. We eventually figured out I had to roll a d4 twice. I rolled well and the rat died.
I was victorious.
Knowing what I know now, I should have just had Dergar turn around, walk out of the dungeon, and retire. But I was flush with my first victory and decided to press on.
Tomorrow: Orcs and the Art of Diplomacy
I was thrilled. I proceeded down the corridor towards the first door. Now, a more skillful player might have paused to search for traps, hidden doors, or invisible things. I did not. I pretty much charged forward. I was nine.
This is when I encountered the rat. It was, apparently, a big rat. I know because I asked Chuck.
Me: How big?
Chuck: Big.
I could have asked for specifics, but that seemed beside the point. I declared my intention to attack.
Me: I attack it.
Chuck: You cant.
Me: Why not?
Chuck: You dont have your sword out.
This precipitated our second DnD argument, as I pointed out it would be foolish to walk around without ones sword drawn and therefore it would always be drawn, whereas Chuck insisted I had not told him it was drawn. This argument probably lasted another 30-minutes. Finally, I ended it.
Me: Fine! I draw my sword.
Chuck: Okay. You can attack.
Me: What do I do?
Chuck: Roll a 20-sider.
Me: Which one is that?
After a pause to examine all the dice and compare numbers, we figured out which was the 20-sider. I rolled it and Chuck told me I hit (In retrospect, I think he just said I hit. I doubt he knew about to-hit tables). We then had to figure out how to roll damage. 2-8 was a complicated number. We eventually figured out I had to roll a d4 twice. I rolled well and the rat died.
I was victorious.
Knowing what I know now, I should have just had Dergar turn around, walk out of the dungeon, and retire. But I was flush with my first victory and decided to press on.
Tomorrow: Orcs and the Art of Diplomacy
Wednesday, September 12, 2007
Darger of the High, Soft Boots
Some of you may have guessed this already, but I am a DnD nerd. I have been playing since the 4th grade, when my best friend Chuck introduced me to this cool game that had funny dice and you killed stuff. Needless to say, I was hooked.
Currently, I am DMing a campaign that has been going on for about 14-years. It has an over-arching plot and everything and the players are really close to actually finishing it (I figure another two-odd years should do it).
In working on my game the other day, I was reminded of my first DnD adventure and my first character: Darger the Fighter. Chuck helped me roll Darger up and DMed my first adventure.
Darger was a human with 15 strength and 6 hit points. He had a broad sword, ring mail, a small shield, and high, soft boots. I hesitated about the boots, as footwear seemed like an important decision, but neither Chuck nor I were clear on what high, soft boots actually were.
Being nine, we of course argued the point for the better part of 30-minutes. I championed the idea that high, soft boots were more like high-top sneakers, while Chuck insisted that they were more like army boots. This debate could have gone on all day, but then Chuck said that he was right because he was the DM.
This was my first encounter with DMs Prerogative, which loosely translated means I am the DM, so shut up.
I was forced to give in. However, when Chuck went to the bathroom I drew a quick picture of Darger and he was clearly wearing a pair of black Converse All-Stars. So there.
With footwear decided, I entered the dungeon.
Tomorrow: The Rat of Doom!
Currently, I am DMing a campaign that has been going on for about 14-years. It has an over-arching plot and everything and the players are really close to actually finishing it (I figure another two-odd years should do it).
In working on my game the other day, I was reminded of my first DnD adventure and my first character: Darger the Fighter. Chuck helped me roll Darger up and DMed my first adventure.
Darger was a human with 15 strength and 6 hit points. He had a broad sword, ring mail, a small shield, and high, soft boots. I hesitated about the boots, as footwear seemed like an important decision, but neither Chuck nor I were clear on what high, soft boots actually were.
Being nine, we of course argued the point for the better part of 30-minutes. I championed the idea that high, soft boots were more like high-top sneakers, while Chuck insisted that they were more like army boots. This debate could have gone on all day, but then Chuck said that he was right because he was the DM.
This was my first encounter with DMs Prerogative, which loosely translated means I am the DM, so shut up.
I was forced to give in. However, when Chuck went to the bathroom I drew a quick picture of Darger and he was clearly wearing a pair of black Converse All-Stars. So there.
With footwear decided, I entered the dungeon.
Tomorrow: The Rat of Doom!
Tuesday, September 11, 2007
Jason is having more technical difficulties.
Jason is having technical difficulties once again. His DSL seems to be really unreliable lately.
Rather than attempting to be funny or informative myself, I will simply link to something that amused me recently. Warning, viral music included. http://www.albinoblacksheep.com/flash/badgerphone
Apologies to any who have already seen it.
Apologies also to those that follow this link and get it stuck in their heads.
-Leigh
Rather than attempting to be funny or informative myself, I will simply link to something that amused me recently. Warning, viral music included. http://www.albinoblacksheep.com/flash/badgerphone
Apologies to any who have already seen it.
Apologies also to those that follow this link and get it stuck in their heads.
-Leigh
Monday, September 10, 2007
THWAP!
It is true. One of the greatest cinematic heroes of all time is making a comeback.
Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull
http://www.indianajones.com/site/index.html
I freely admit I love the movies, even the rather pedestrian Temple of Doom. I love the car chases, the gun fights, and the booby traps.
I especially love the fist fights and the fact that when somebody gets punched, there is a THWAP! that is louder than a gunshot.
This does not actually happen. I train in martial arts and punch people and get punched on a regular basis. In fact, last Saturday, I got bludgeoned once and nearly stabbed, but that is neither here nor there. The point is that there are never any really cool sound-effects.
Obviously, Indiana Jones is not real life. It is better, which is why we queue up and pay 10-bucks a pop to watch it.
Memorial Day, 2008. I will be there.
Cheers,
-Jason
Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull
http://www.indianajones.com/site/index.html
I freely admit I love the movies, even the rather pedestrian Temple of Doom. I love the car chases, the gun fights, and the booby traps.
I especially love the fist fights and the fact that when somebody gets punched, there is a THWAP! that is louder than a gunshot.
This does not actually happen. I train in martial arts and punch people and get punched on a regular basis. In fact, last Saturday, I got bludgeoned once and nearly stabbed, but that is neither here nor there. The point is that there are never any really cool sound-effects.
Obviously, Indiana Jones is not real life. It is better, which is why we queue up and pay 10-bucks a pop to watch it.
Memorial Day, 2008. I will be there.
Cheers,
-Jason
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