Monday Morning Commute: Intergalactic Turkeys Up In Your Ass, Yum!
What up, playahs?! And a happy preemptive Thanksgiving to all your asses too! If you’re like me, you’re going to spend this week eating five-hundred pounds of mashed potatoes, sneezing on blankets and giving them to Native Americans, and punching an old lady out in Walmart at 5 am on Friday morning so you can get that fucking deal on the new Nintendobox Wii-3.
Seriously though, it’s that special time of the year again. And by that time, I mean when the temperature drops, the sun goes away, and I spend all night getting salsa in my beard as I eat my way into hibernation shape. Kiss a loved one, fire up a video game, and count the months until your testicles/ovaries won’t shrivel into non-functioning status if you stay outdoors for a prolonged period of time.
Monday Morning Commute. Every Monday I’m going to detail the various things I’m either currently or will be watching, reading, playing, and listening to in the next seven days. It’s Monday. You’ve got a long week of school, work, or compulsive masturbation to get through. Tell me the arts that you’re indulging in, to stave off suicide.
Playing | Mass Effect
I’ve been playing a shit load of Mass Effect recently. With the sequel dropping like really fucking soon, I want to brush up on my knowledge of the original. It doesn’t hurt that I never got to see half of the game and skipped right through to the story missions. So I’m digging the hell out of it.
That said, the game is shockingly broken in retrospect. The engine sucks, the planets are empty, driving the Mako is the worst thing ever, combat is clunky, and the interface blows. And yet, I love it. There’s enough pixie dust sprinkled on this piece of shit to keep it remarkable.
That, and I’m a fucking whore for space epics. Or by that I mean, anything that reminds me of Battlestar Galactica or Star Wars. Sorry Babylon 5 or Stargate fans, it’s not that I hate you, I just haven’t delved into said experiences.
Also, it should be worth noting that Modern Warfare 2 continues to be straight cocaine to my gaming synapses. I haven’t played a game until 3 am in a long, long time. But MW2 keeps me up, and keeps me screaming. If you ever want to be entertained, join up with me on XBL (Caffeine Power) and watch as I shout an amazing stream of obscenities as everyone on the map dominates my ass.
Eating | An Unfathomable Amount of Mashed Potatoes
Yeah, fuck yeah, mashed potatoes! What! What’s up now! Do you think I’ve been self-purging and saving up all my Jenny Craig points for fucking nothing? Oh wait, are points for Weight Watchers’? Guess what, I don’t god damn care! Since the fascist pigs that are my parents and relatives don’t cook pizza on Thanksgiving – and isn’t that fucked up, I mean, is there ANYTHING MORE WORTHY OF BEING THANKFUL FOR THAN FUCKING PIZZA?! – I corner and consume the mashed potatoes with a ferocity unbeheld by many. Those who witness it on Thanksgiving day usually thank their PREFERRED NONEXISTENT DEITY OF CHOICE (Mine is Gorgious, my own fashioned god of gorging) that they won’t have to witness such a horror for another year or so.
Fuck you mashed potatoes, you’re fucking dead!
Doing | Drinking Caffeine and Gaming Until I Die
For a while I was forlorn that The Girl I Don’t Deserve was going home for Thanksgiving. I saw a barren wasteland filled with nothingness! Who was going to pull the gravy bits out of my beard? Who was going to get caught under a blanket with me and one of my bile-inducing ass-rippings at 2 am? If you think I can’t unleash sphincteral hell after Thanksgiving, you don’t know me! Who was going to sit and watch television with me all weekend? Fuck! Frak! Fock!
But then I realized that in life when things don’t go your way, you must simply adapt. And instead of dwelling on the fact that I didn’t have anyone to annoy by quoting the same Lil Wayne line to over and over, I saw a perfect opportunity!
I’m going to sit around and play video games all day! Fuck showering! I’m going to drink Diet Mountain Dew and go into an aspartame-induced psychosis! I’m going to play three-hundred hours of Modern Warfare 2 and eat enough pizza with my friends to fill my room with an anal gloom that can be physically touched!
This weekend, this long weekend, will probably be the one where Pepsibones finally comes down into my room to speak. And instead of finding me shooting polygonal foes, he’s going to find me on the floor, bent over and grasping my 360’s controller, my pants shit, my mouth foaming but open with a smile, dead and at peace.