Duooooodenum!

A small group of people are running through the dark countryside, tripping over roots and blundering into trees in their mad dash. Behind them, zombies slowly and relentlessly pursue, their decaying arms outstretched, their feet shuffling them ever forward.

The zombies catch sight of their prey and one lets off a mournful wail.

Brains!

The cry is taken up by the rest of the horde.

Brains! Brains! Braaaaaains!

Except for one zombie.

Duodenum! Duoooooodenum!

The rest of the zombies pause, turning to look at their fellow.

Brains?

Duodenum!

The zombies stare at one another. One scratches its head, a gesture remembered from its days among the living.

One zombie seems to hesitate

Pancreas?

Another zombie raises its hand, which falls off.

Liver?

The zombies seem to consider this, swaying slightly, and then begin to move again.

Brains! Duoooodenum! Pancreas! Bronchomediastinal Trunk! Braaaains!

Keep It Simple, Sometimes

So, my Tuesday-night WoW group made its foray into Blackrock Depths. We have not played in a couple weeks, due to real-world obligations, but we were kitted up and ready to go.

We cleared around the Detention Block to get the escort quest (for the Kargath Expeditionary Force guy) without too much trouble and then got ready to take on High Interrogator Gerstahn. We formed a plan and rushed in.

We got our butts kicked.

The Interrogator kept fearing half the party. Her buddies stabbed, bit, and generally mauled at will. We wiped. We tried it again, with a slightly different plan. And then we tried it again.

After three wipes, we were despairing of taking this boss. We were a bit low for the encounter (49-51), after all. It was then that I suggested we just rush the Interrogator and see what happened. I figured since complicated was not working, we should just try simple.

We dropped in her under thirty-seconds and then creamed her buddies.

And so, we learned a valuable lesson. Sometimes, all you need to do is just stab them until they fall down. Armed with that newfound knowledge, we proceeded to the arena event (the Hall of Iron, I think).

We got out butts kicked.

So much for newfound knowledge. Next time, we will try it complicated and see what happens.

Cheers,
-Jason

A Very Small Rant

I was trying not to write rants. I really was. However, something has been bugging me for a while and I feel the need to share it with you, the anonymous people I talk to.

Mashed potatoes.

Yes, mashed potatoes. I like mashed potatoes. They are among the most perfect of foods (which include chili, Ding-Dongs, Lucky Charms, and burritos). However, when ordering mashed potatoes at restaurants lately, I have noticed a disturbing trend. You can not just get mashed potatoes.

Instead, you get Garlic Mashed Potatoes, Red Skin Mashed Potatoes, Chunky Mashed Potatoes, or Potatoes con Carne et Fromage du Porc.

I like all of those mashed potato variants, I really do, but sometimes, a guy just wants a giant mound of smashed tubers and enough butter to kill a Marine platoon.

So there. See, I told you it was a very small rant.

Cheers,
-Jason

The Terrible Ball in the Sky

It has been hot lately in the Pacific Northwest. By hot, I mean small-dogs-exploding-in-the-sun hot. Fans are sold out everywhere. Car windows are rolled down. People are considering getting AC. It is actually uncomfortable walking from your car to the nearest Starbucks (There is one every 50 yards – It is a state law in Washington).

How hot was it, you ask? Slightly over 80 degrees!!!!

Please stop laughing. For us, this is HOT. We are wearing shorts, people, and as a general rule, we do not tan. The glare from the white legs can probably be seen from space.

Now I realize that many of you live in much hotter climes. I spent a few years in Fresno, California. I will forego the typical jokes about Fresno and point out that 110 degrees Fahrenheit (-23 Celsius) was not uncommon in the summer. Everything in Fresno has AC: homes, cars, baby-strollers, walk-in freezers. You have to, otherwise you just die.

Some of you are still laughing. Some of you live in climates where its 110 in the shade in winter. The inside of your refrigerators is probably higher than 80 degrees. Good for you. I will not be visiting any time soon.

Even as I am writing this, the clouds have rolled in. Ah, blessed clouds. The temperature is dropping and soon there will be rain again. Life will return to normal and we will be able to get our triple-mocha-latte-expresso-chinos without actually sweating. Enjoy your hot climates, I like a little rain.

Cheers,
-Jason

A Vicious, Unprovoked Attack

I am back. The milestone has passed and I will once again be regaling all three of you with my semi-coherent ramblings.

That being said, I hate to report this, but I was viciously attacked this Sunday. The perpetrator was a sausage.

As I have grown fond of saying, I am not kidding.

You see, a friend who will remain nameless (Mike) got married recently and gave me a gift basket for being in the wedding. Included in said gift basket was a package of sausage with the rather inauspicious name Cheesy Bavarian. So during the nice weather yesterday, I headed over to chez Leigh and we barbecued.

Now, we are not savvy barbequers. We understand that fire is involved and that food is placed in proximity to it. We accomplished this and then stood there, staring at the food. Below is an actual transcript of our conversation.

So, how long does it take?

Dunno.

How long has it been on?

30 seconds.

Is that enough?

Dunno. Maybe we should check Wikipedia?

Anyway, eventually, we actually ate the sausage. That is to say, pieces were put in our mouths and the sausage viciously attacked us. This was not a mild, wimpy sausage. It had cheese placed directly in it, like land mines. It was strong.

And it did not stop there. Once swallowed, it continued its unrelenting assault, as evidenced by the copious amounts of gas produced. Even now, as I write this, I am sure it is savagely mauling my arteries.

The sausage was not bad, in fact it was quite good. It was just . . . powerful. I ate a whole link. Leigh only ate half of his. This proves I am more manly than he, but probably not as bright.

Cheers,
-Jason

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Milestone Alert

I work in the computer games industry. We have things called Milestones. They are large and important and like Godzilla, can easily destroy whole cities if you let them.

So, no real blog today. The Milestone is due Monday, but hopefully I can get some blogs up this weekend.

Cheers,
-Jason