Monday Morning Commute: Brock Lesnar Double-Fisting Ninjas
A listless dragging on of the summer has revealed something to me: I don’t care for the summer. I mean, theoretically when I’m not a bum and I have an actual job teaching, it shall be my reprieve. Theoretically. But once I get into July, all I’m doing is sitting around, hating the heat, hating the fact that I get pit stains within moments of getting dressed, and waiting for crisp air. I love the Fall. I sort of like the Winter. But once you get past 75 degrees (I don’t know what that translates to in the measurement system outside the Empire), I’m a sweaty groaning mess.
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 what you’re diggin’ on to get through the drudgery.
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Playing / UFC Undisputed 2010
As awesome as it may be to take your favorite UFC fighter and guide him through the ranks as he ascends to immortality, my fleeting experience with UFC Undisputed 2010 has centered around a more juvenile dream. I dream the dream of creating a character after my likeness and punching a friend’s likeness in the face.
As time slows down and they hit the carpet, I rejoice through sustained giggles as I mash their dome-piece into skull-mush before Herb Dean jumps in and stops the fight. It’s delicious.
My friend and resident pedophile Bags snagged a copy of UFC over the weekend, and as I’ve intimated, it’s pretty fucking amusing. There’s something so satisfying about feeling like you’re doling out an ass-whupping. And while this is a feeling not native nor confined to this game, it was doubly-enjoyable because we had all crafted custom characters.
A powerful sense horror was revealed when we saw Pepsibones’ character, a frightening beast that taught us that perhaps not everyone should be left to play with a character customization screen. If I can get my hands on a picture of it, I will inflict the horror on you.
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The fall brings with it several things I love: a triad of awesome holidays: Halloween, Thanksgiving, and most importantly Christmas. It also marks the beginning of football and hockey season. You can sit outside and feel a sexy snap by the air towards you. I want nothing more than to slap on a sweater and some jeans and eat myself delirious while watching the boys throw around the pigskins. All sweaty, slappin’ asses. Trying not to stare as my girlfriend hovers. Oh yeah.
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Reading / Shadowland #1, by Andy Diggle & Billy Tan
For years I’ve delighted in watching Matt Murdock spiral into insanity. Losing his wife to dementia, his friends due to his actions, and what appears to be his Murdock identity altogether, it’s been an exercise in schadenfreude. All those years of spiraling down the toilet have finally come to fruition in Shadowland, as it seems Murdock has finally begun to trip the Insanity Fantastic.
After a few weeks where my comic book store wonderfully didn’t have any fucking copies, I was lucky enough to grab a second printing. God forbid they have a copy for a loyal customer of fifteen years!, fuck! But what can you do. It didn’t disappoint, ya’ll. If you like descents into madness, ninjas, ridiculous fight scenes, discussions on the sacrifice that comes towards achieving selfless goals (and if those goals are selfless) or just fucking things that rock, you should really snag this comic.
I beseech you. Don’t make me cut you.
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I do dig crickets, though. There’s something nice about feeling the atmosphere around you sizzling with sexy insect glory. It’s a nice compliment to the hum of the universe. If you listen quietly to the crickets while staring at the stars on a summer evening, you can feel the sublime and beautiful pointlessness of your own existence. On second thought, perhaps I just hate the blazing afternoons. I do dig on the quiet evenings of the summer.
What the fuck do I know, anyways?
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What are you guys diggin’ on this week? Share yourself with me. Open up. Spread your mind. Let me infiltrate it.