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Shoot the Breeze: Red Eyes and Ragged Blogs

Donning a shirt fresh from the dryer is the closest to plucking apparel straight from the tree that a man can get.

Gah. Who�da thunk it would be such a big deal to pass a few little bytes from one computer to another? I miss the internets. Life without is a drag. I don�t know how our forefathers managed. They probably invented dinosaurs just to relieve the boredom. Cheerfully forced ignorance out of the way, let�s get on with another pictureless blog. If we were going to be uncomfortably honest with each other, the kind of honest that is best served in the buff (nakedness being the most truth anyone can wear and more than most can handle), I�d admit that if I had bothered to come into work a few brief minutes earlier, I probably could have found some images for you. Hell, I could do it now, were I so inclined.

It�s a good thing I�m not that honest or life would be tough.

Also, apologies for the lengthness. It�s the second short(ish) blog in two weeks and while some of you might see that as a plus (and who could blame you?) I still wish I had a little more for those looking for it. This weekend�s writing energies were directed towards code, not words. I was up well past my bedtime last night, but I haven't felt this good in a while. Hey, maybe next time I�ll throw down about programming?

Reader.printf(�Oh god no�);

In Which Wandering is Done

Hi, Bey.

Brain! Haven�t heard from you in a while. How ya been?

Good, I took some time off and � Bey, what�re you doing there?

What�s it look like? Playing Shiren the Wanderer. Man, I thought you were supposed to be smart.

I � no, what�re you doing right now? Because it looks like-

Yep. Rice balls. I�m collecting them. I probably got, like, fifty of �em by now. Jars and jars full. It�s like Christmas, but with rice instead of snow. And rice instead of stockings, and cheer, and Mom�s Christmas whiskey. Kind of a mess, really.

Yeah, you�ve, uh, you�ve got rice leaking out of your shoes. Why is this happening?

Well, Shiren�s gotta eat. Guy loves his rice balls. And y�know, you�ve got to stock up if you�re going to get anywhere. It�s sort of like how I spend the first Sunday of every month stuffing my fridge with pots of instant Ramen. Saves me the trouble of hunting down a meal later. Time for supper? Noodles in the fridge. Breakfast? Ramen is the most important meal of the day, every day. Three in the morning, stumbling home soaking wet and covered in fish guts? Noodles will welcome me, even if my so-called roommate is busy calling the cops.

Yeah, your digestive track has been meaning to have a chat with you about that. Anyway, that�s great. Really. I�m happy for you. How long have you been at this?

I�m not entirely sure. I think I�m growing mold. Or maybe turning into a houseplant. Do my hands look oddly verdant to you? If I remember my medical training, CPR is probably the cure.

I wouldn�t call two weeks in a Guatemalan prison with a druglord named �The Doctor� medical training, but far be it from me to stop you. You can�t seriously be enjoying yourself here. You keep doing the same things over and over. I think you�ve talked to that blacksmith more times this week than you have any real people.

I didn�t get this +32 katana making memories with loved ones. And before you ask, yes, the gold plating will stave off the black Megazord of my combined loneliness, despair, and regret just fine, so don�t bother trying to convince me otherwise.

Sure, yeah, I�ll told my brain stem. See, it�s a joke, because I don�t have a to- ah, it�s probably beyond you. Tell me, is all this grinding for anything? Are you ever actually going to go anywhere? Not with your real life, obviously, we�ll go ahead and write that off, but will your little wanderer be doing any wandering?

Wondering about my wandering, eh? Well, tell you what, I think I�m just about ready to set out. I�ve got my rice balls. I�ve got my scrolls, herbs, staffs, and staves. Nothing in the world can stop me.

See, look how far I�m going. All that grinding�s paying off. I�ll be at that golden condor in no time. Yes, a golden condor. No, I don�t know how a bird made out of metal could possibly fly. Doesn�t matter, just watch-

Oh. Okay, I found a monster house. The whole floor�s teeming with monsters. Alright, no problem. I ran out of blastwave scrolls a little while ago, but I�ll just use a scroll of confusion and run for the exit while they�re all dazed.

Wow. Okay, wow. While they were confused, some of the monsters killed some of the other monsters and now they�re super monsters. That�s, uh, that�s fine. I�ll use a scroll of sleep and just beeline it for the exit. Once I get off this floor, everything will be just fine.

So, the monsters woke up before I could get to the exit. And now they�re faster. That�s good, it�s all okay, I�ve just got to-

Well. I�m pretty much surrounded. But the staircase is right there. All I have to do is survive one turn. There�s no way they can kill me in one-




Bey? You okay? Listen, I know it must be hard to lose all of your time and effort like that, but you�ve got to trust me, this is a positive step. You can move on with your life now. You don�t have to keep playing this game. You can put down the DS and move on.

Rice balls. I�m going to need more rice balls.
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About Beyamorone of us since 1:10 PM on 06.24.2009

I�m a gamer. Take a minute and get over that shock. I can say I�m an Xbox man, though I�ll support anything that advances gaming (I love you Sackboy). I�ve also got a DS Chunky, so I can take this whole nerd thing on the road.

As far as genres, shooters and western RPGs top my list. Halo, Fable, and Morrowind, for instance, rock my socks hard. Of course other things, stuff like Animal Crossing and Kingdom Hearts, do their share of stocking rocking.

In the world outside of buttons and pixels, I�m an engineering student (that nerd thing I mentioned? I do it hardcore) on the west coast of the Great White North. I�m a fan of a harder rock, bands like Breaking Benjamin and Hurt, though I�ll kick it (very much figuratively) to stuff ranging from The Fray through Franz Ferdinand to Five Finger Death Punch. Optimus Prime is my hero, but I do love Starscream. Finally, thumbs up to you for reading this. You�re never getting that time back.

Kirbey by the talented and generously endowed (probably) Enkido