Thursday, January 26, 2012

..Battleworld, updates, (finally) a new Featured Link, and some other stuff.


Randoom Blog!

Do you want humor? Do you want random facts and what-not? Fuck you, here Randoom!

No, seriously, my homeboy Shockgrubz can be found over at Randoom Blog, which is, for want of a better term, a blog about...well...random shit.

Yeap. Random. Randoom.

...I think there's a pattern there...

Anyway, wander over and take a look at his articles featuring his current attempt at pitting state against state, musing about girlcotting (you'd have to see for yerself), PLUS the dude's already got 11 freakin' articles and January ain't even done? That's nearly three times more than some bloggers do, with their once-a-week posting and their infrequency of posts and...

...okay, NOW I just made myself feel bad.

Extreme Existence: Battleworld

So I've posted some stuff out of the ALREADY 30 and some-odd wordpad files I've developed for Battleworld. A clear six or seven of those files is in a folder I call "Battleworld Public," since I don't want to give away any spoilers or anything that gives away simply too much of the storyline, yet I still have to tailor stuff so I can draw a crowd, y'knowwhatImean?

Namely 'cuz what I need are artists (nothing too major) and programmers (now THAT I'll be needin', eventually, if anything just to double-check my messy programming).

The consumables I posted were my first draft and were only a small section of what I've done with it since then. I've already got the individual units (names, descriptions, what to expect) written out for all four main kingdoms and I've got a ton of leftovers I've thrown at the Goblin Forces, the subservient kingdom under the Krieg Army. Altogether each kingdom's units and abilities are unique enough that it should feel like you're employing completely different tactics with each one without there being any (er, at least boring) crossovers. I mean, each kingdom has access to at least one unit that is anywhere from Giant to the largest unit to be found in the "Big McLargeHuge Oh Shit Fly Me To The Moon Group" (or just OS-sized, "Oh Shit!"), and with side rulings determining what sizes are necessary in order to take on anything from Giant on up.

And the Kriegers, holy comment, man. No fucking comment. If there ARE any true "antagonists" to be found in the game, it's damn near solely in the Krieg Army. The Horde can be considered badguys only in that they have high-as-fucking-hell Charisma bonuses, making it easier to schmooze and schmaltz your way through the game, taking over towns and even kingdoms while barely lifting a combative finger. The Legion is just as bad, what-with the Hivemind Brainwash capability. Plus Demnos himself, their "leader," is a nasty figure with plenty of dark secrets to be unearthed. Theeen you got Nepthis the Everdust himself, who (depending on which storyline you play through) is either the be-all end-all antagonist, a sympathetic figure, or even a pawn.

Now, I'll be posting up some stuff on The Pen Is My Sword on Battleworld pretty soon, and suffice it to say it's nowhere near up to date with what I'm currently working on. Still, what SHOULD I post up? I've got that public file, and it's mostly design notes to entice actual artists to draw stuff up from, but otherwise there's not too much else in there. So, what should I post up that won't give away all the juicy stuff I've got goin' on story-wise for this game?

Lemme know, y'all.

Current Projects

So yeah, y'all know 'bout Extreme Existence: Battleworld (obviously, it's all I talk about here and as of late), but didja know I'm currently doin' some other stuff too?

Wanna know 'bout it?


Well too bad, I'm gonna post it right here for your viewing "entertainment":

Scream - A collection of poems, a few lyrics, and a coupla short stories from yours truly. I've still gotta invite certain artists to draw stuff up for it, though any publisher I approach will probably want their own artists on it...I dunno, I've never done that kinda thing before.

My Main Band - See below. Suffice it to say I'm still writing stuff up for it, and have recently begun being VERY busy for it.

KAOS: Chaos Party Radio - We've done ONE podcast, though damned if I know where it is. Starting next week though we'll be posting some shit up on it, with my homeboys dropping a line for me there. Hey, free internet radio advertisement? Why not?! It's good to know motherfuckers, even if they're just startin' out. Now I'm not ON the panel (though my homeboy says he'll invite me sometimes up for it), but I've written up some material that my homeboy'll be using, if anything because I can (in the very least) present a list of subjects to bring up that he can refer to whenever he runs outta shit to spout.

And trust me, this nigga know how to bullshit already, yo.

Gettin' A Job - sure this isn't inexactly a project, but it's up there in priority, y'know? Just as important to me as anything else I'm doin', at least. Now that the ice and snow have blown over, it's time to get back on that track (the way I damn near ALMOST DID back in the beginning of January) and get a motherfuckin' job. Ain't that hard to do, but with the way the economy is one never knows.

Blog Schedules and convenient links

Ahem ahem ahem, not to sound, y'know, high-muck-a-muck or anythin', but I'd figure I'd at least drop mention of what I've been thinkin' 'bout and why I'm not posting shit up every other day like I WAS doin'. With six blogs, a ton of shit I'm doing IRL, and for my own sense of organization I reckon it'd be best to actually do it BY a schedule or, in the very least, present a schedule and then work around that.

It may not make sense to YOU, but it certainly does to me.


That Bastard On
Updating at least twice a week.

The Pen Is My Sword
Updating whenever, mainly 'cuz I've just got THAT much shit to upload.

Netflix This!
Updating once to twice a week, depending on what kind of material I'm suggestin'.

Man-Flavored Milk
Updating whenever, 'cuz it's INCREDIBLY EASY to post shit from youtube up with a bunch of gibberish.

Soothe Your Freaking Beast
Updating at least twice a week, 'cuz it's RATHER HARD to post music from youtube that not even hipsters know about.

The Bellingham Jerk
Updating whenever I have money to spend at a restaurant, mang.

My band: Update

SO, where are we right now? We haven't a clue what's goin' down with our guitarist (haven't known since December) and he might not even want to stay with us after we tell him that this shit is going down.

With that stated, this shit is going down.

Now, I think I've mentioned that we've made a connection to a particular executive at a particular company, right? Well, all we need is anywhere from 3-7 songs (he'll probably only listen to the first thirty seconds of each) with an optimal of four songs, two of which are covers, one of our serious songs, and one of our WAY-not-serious songs (i.e. - 1200 lbs. of penis).

So, I go about calling one of my peoples who happens to HAVE a basement recording studio (the very same one I've been practicing in for, like, a year before we had to jam outta it) and...

Well, I think I've made mention that it feels like there is an honest-to-goodness entity of some sort trying to stop us from recording, right? Ergo why we don't have ANY product to show y'all, or anyone. Well, it appears to have hit again.

His basement flooded. flooded last week, when we were all iced and snowed over and shit.


Now, for some plusses. He has a standby place where, for a coupla bucks, we can get this shit recorded. HOPEFULLY I can rope him and our other homeboy in for the guitarwork (mainly 'cuz they both KNOW how to do the punk rendition of Nights and White Rabbit that I need done), but if not I have a backup plan for THAT.

Namely, drop the two punk covers, record the four songs we already know (and kneecap our current guitarist if he doesn't at least hook us up with a guest spot on it) and send that out, hopin' for the best.

It'll be incredibly raw and hopefully an "average level" (which is all we ever really want - neither our best, nor our worst, just the average that we'd bring raw to a stage) recording. Honestly, that's all I can hope for at this point.

Trust me kiddies, I'm not too thrilled at the idea of having to fall back on ANY backup plans and, to be quite honest, I'm tired of it. I'm tired of whatever the hell it is that keeps us from recording shit, like it's some kind of weird curse or some shit.

But either way, I'm going to be closing this deal one way and one way only, y'knowwhatImean? Just record this shit and get it out into the ether of existence. It'd just be nice to actually get it DONE already. What's even worse is that due to gas necessities, it's going to have to wait 'til next Saturday either way.

A whole week where something can, and will, pop up.

Shiiit, and everyone wonders why I'm so bloody aggressive.

Saturday, January 21, 2012

...bachelor chow, literary shiznits, Battleworld, surviving the elements.

On the Personal

So yeah, I've been living pretty rugged the past coupla days. Now, after visiting my parents they've actually got me using this as my tagline: "I LIVE IN A CABIN DEEP IN THE WOODS WHERE I'VE WRITTEN 37 MANIFESTOS AND AM ALSO STOCKPILING BOMBS FOR THE START OF THE REVOLUTION!!!!"

No, seriously, EVERY chance he'd get my dad would chime in about my tiny-assed cabin in the woods where I'm writing manifestos and building bombs. Then my MOM chimed in.

The last time I visited them I still hadn't undergone surgery for my fucked up knee yet and was still in an immobilizer, so THAT time it was all "Don't you dare do anything, we got this, don't you dare move from that couch you turtle!" I was then called turtle for the entire visit.

As is, yeaaaaah. I prefer this new Unibomber look with my parents rather than turtle. At least it denotes that I'm participating in SOME kind of activity, y'knowwhatImean?

Anyway, yeah. I hit the ground running pretty nice once I got back from California, but man I suddenly had to go headfirst into a wall known as Mother Nature. Just BAM, snowdrift and iced-up pipes. Winds blowing so cold and bitter that I'm stuck here. My heater doesn't work, my pipes are frozen so no water (except for what I trudge out from the laundry room, which thankfully was still running but even WITH my filters there's still that whole ew factor), plus I learned that since my door isn't on properly and there are huuuuge gaps between the door and the frame, I also had a wonderful bout of snowdrift comin' through into my cabin. So no heat, no real water except for what I'm bringin' in, cold as fuck outside (even THROUGH layers of clothes), my cabin simply lacks the ability to keep the outside outfreakingside, and the roads are completely fucked up, not to mention my car is a solid block of ice by now.

Game fucking on.

Suffice it to say, I survived. It SUCKS, but I survived.

Sure, others have survived such situations before, but this was on top of quite a bit more stress that I'm not going to point out here. Just suffice it to say, I survived. That's good enough for me, yo.

SO, with that stated, perhaps the next topic of conversation is up?

Music and Literary Shiznits

Yeaaaaaaah. I know some of you (Tracirz, I'm lookin' atcha) were screaming LOL GIMME DEMO, but to be quite honest it's been quite a hassle just to get a band together let alone practice. As I've complained about before in the past, we're having issues where we simply cannot record anything! All sortsa reasons, but no matter how you cut it all the shit just keeps droppin' on us the moment we get ready to put out product.

So. Sosososo. While I was out there in California, I made a contact (two, technically) with a particular record company. No promises, but my band is pretty much fired up to get some shit done. THAT, to me, is good news PLUS a friend of ours happens to have a recording situation all set up at his pad, including a set of e-drums so my drummer can lose his damn mind properly without waking up the neighbors. All we need is a raw cut of two covers (our punk versions of White Rabbit and Nights In White Satin, possibly Rocky Mountain Way) and a couple of our original songs.

Suffice it to say, these four can land us a full-blown record deal (with all the good and bad that goes with it), or just get us help with cuttin' that demo finally.

On a more personal side, I think I have enough poems now to actually compile 'em up, get some artwork done for it and put a book out. If so, badassed. Now comes the hard part: getting art for said book.

Now it should be easy if I can find a publishing company cool with their own brand of artists, y'know? BUT, I happen to have a few friends who are incredibly artistic already and one in mind definitely, to mind.

Anyway, I have some more stuff to post up so by all means, if'n you haven't checked it out already go read up at The Pen Is My Sword, you KNO-OOOOW!

Bachelor Chow

Shamelessly stolen from Sonics: the Outlaw Dog.

Angus Beef (lol) hot dogs
Hormel no beans chili
Medium cheddar cheese
Miracle Whip
ACTUAL freakin' hot dog buns
Onion rings
Sweet Baby Rays BBQ Sauce

Doesn't take nearly as long as it might seem to make and prepare, hell just start the onion rings a-bakin', cook up said bacon while the hot dogs and chili heats up, slather dat miracle whip on the buns, assemble cheeses, place dogs folowed by BBQ sauce, top with onion rings, slather with chilli, lovingly garnish with bacon.

Now far be it for me to perpetuate the stereotype of the "lolfat american," such as fat black people who sing/hum and maybe do a two-step shuffle while cooking....but I'll be goddamned if my palate didn't orgasm at the co-mingling of such delicious flavors.

Just...fuckin'...AWESOME! I don't care how highbrow, how haute your cuisine might be, from whatever georgian royalty stock you were bred from...if this shit don't scratch that itch, you don't deserve to call yourself human.

Put. This. In. Your. Mouth.

My Idea of Heaven

Y'wanna know what I think is heaven? What I honestly think is paradise?

Fuckin' Riverworld, that's what.

Okay, OKAY, okay, some of you have all sortsa religious and theistic "ideas' but let's face it: reincarnation has something going for it. If you don't believe me, read Job: A Comedy by Robert A. The Man Himself Goddamned Heinlein, and see if you view the idea of perfection the same way. When ALL houses are made of jewels and glass, when beauty is everyday and commonplace it loses its' luster.

Being humans as we are, we aren't MEANT to be around the almighty singing hosannahs all day, hell I'd kick the whole fucking lot of you right out of Heaven and right back into another world if I were God. After awhile, hearing the same hymns every day and the same bullshit everyday would drive me right the fuck nuts, and I WOULD deal harshly with y'all.

With THAT stated, the idea of simply hanging around perfection for a little while before being thrown back into the muck and chaos? That sounds right perfect to me.

Riverworld, originally a series of books by the wonderful Phillip Jose Farmer (didn't he do the Labryinth series? I think he did the Labyrinth series...I'll call m'mom, see what she says), is a world that is 100 times bigger than Earth. It's pretty much a giant pangeac mess criss-crossed by a giant river...just rivers EVERYWHERE. There are these geo-globes or whatever that, once per day, dispenses out to you food, drugs, and alcohol - all meant to help aid in the process of finding perfection. Y'see, there's these divine aliens or whateverhaveyou (depends on if you read the books or watch the 4-part made-for-t.v. movies) who believe that humanity deserves a second chance...but that the problems with earth is that resources were limited, so outside stimulus is what ruined humanity's attempts at achieving perfection.

Amongst those resources is life itself. Should you die, via suicide or external reasons, you'll be reborn from one of the rivers and spat back out into the world. Sometimes it may take only a month, other times years. Perhaps even longer...but you'll come back, so long as the Riverworld exists.

All this is to help foster the switch from outside stimulus to internal, the alien thought of no longer having to worry about food or material things and, instead, help humans to start focusing more on their own internal search for perfection.

Naturally though, human nature being the way it is, the strong prey upon the weak and bands of humans set up slave camps around the geo-globes, rationing resources as they come once per day.

I'm not going to ruin too much (the various groups that are here, including a bunch of asshole conquistadors) of the storyline, especially the two groups amongst the aliens themselves and their various chosen champions....but all I want to point out is this: to me, the world of Riverworld is friggin' Heaven.

Slave camps to defeat? Brigands and raiders? Making friends with a colorful cast of characters led by Samuel Clemens, Captain of the Not-For-Hire (a nuclear-powered riverboat)? Having the captain of a awesome nuke-powered Zeppelin, the very same captain who made the original designs of the Hindenburg, you're homeboy? A world of rivers that's 100 times bigger than earth where resources are unlimited, you are reborn with your favorite weapons and clothes and such, and while pain and death are guaranteed resurrection?

Holy shit, either this is the best vidyuh gaem ever or Paradise.

Now, some of you are already saying, "Oh Bastard, that sounds horrible! How can you consider such a thing?~!" Well, here's something to consider: what YOU might consider to be heaven might be hell to others...and vice-versa.

I know, freaky ain't it? People are people, and being so while we have the same basic needs and desires (sleep, food, family, comfort, sex, friendship and camaraderie, entertainment) after that it gets VERY complicated, y'knowwhatImean? Environmental factors, culture, what time in history you live in and other nonsuch. All these factors come together to form the melange that is a human being.

So before I get too preachy and what-not, lemme hit you with this: you, no matter who "you" are or where "you" are from, are NOT the only one to desire and envision a paradise in the afterlife. But someone from a different culture, time and place will see their own version of heaven, their own version of paradise.

And it might even be antagonistic towards the idea that they might end up in YOUR heaven.

Now, maybe this is a concept you can't understand. Maybe this is something that you simply cannot accept. Perhaps I'm wrong, and have completely missed the point of all this...I dunno.

What I DO know is me, paradise is a grand adventure of never-ending violence, strife and conflict. Loot to gather, black-and-white morality where even grey is clearly defined, and enemies to defeat. Strength to gather, kingdoms to free, battles to lose and win. To defeat and be defeated, to rise up and defeat once more. Allies to win, loves to pursue, secrets to unravel and conquer.

To conquer and be conquered! To ravage and be ravished!! To beat and be beaten!!! The chance of victor or vanquished at any turn...hell, I even have an entire roleplay handbook-thing devoted to such an ideal. The players of such still talk about the awesomeness that went down, and though we haven't finished it yet (lol a year ago) there are plans of doing so next year, and also a new setting in the same world for a different group.

Now, to some of you reading this, this sounds like Hell (or something right outta The Elder Scrolls or Conan)...but to me?

Heaven in a teacup with cocoa, yo. Before I came to Bellingham, it's how I lived my life...and I'll admit, I miss it.

BUT, who knows what next year will bring up. I'm slowly getting my musculature back, and though my knee still isn't at the point where I can comfortably run again I am going to start working on increasing my flexibility once more. I mean, I wasn't a friggin' circus performer or what have you, but that was my crowning asset really. For a guy as solid and big as I am to be as flexible as I was.

Meh, we'll see. We'll see.


So yeah, y'all ever heard of Military Madness? Advance Wars? Ogre Tactics or, perhaps, Final Fantasy Tactics?

Well, my dad got an actually playable chess game this year for christmas (he's got a killer crystal set from back in the day, but he never touches it 'cuz it's a collectors item or some such - in the very least there's tremendous sentimental value in it for him) and, naturally as we always do, we begin to argue about whether or not chess is truly a good example of a "war game."

He argues that it's war at it's most stripped down, mobility and "this attacks this" only. I argue that it's bullshit, that war and combat in general has WAY more facets to it than simple mobility. If it took two pawns to take a knight, or you needed at least a rook to truly take down a king, I'd be happier about it. If the attack and defensive abilities of each piece was different, I'd be satisfied. If you could gain a tactical advantage by securing a particular choice of territory, then I'd agree that this is indeed a superior combat game.

But it is not. It does not. And it simply does NOT satisfy my conditions of a war game.

So, out of the blue I get the idea of making my own, y'know? Thusly Extreme Existence: Battleworld.

Now, the Extreme Existence is something I used to take part of back in the day, and my friend (who created and ran the thing) pretty much gives me run of the storylines simply because of how awesome I can pull it off. So anyway, naturally I shoot him the idea of Battleworld (just to give him heads up) and he goes "Well shit, you know the canon as much I do, nyukka! GO FOR IT!"

So here we are. So here I am.

Now the Extreme Existence started out as a simple forum where people could roleplay (i.e. - litfags like me) not only just any character, but what we call a "Mary Sue" nowadays, but back then we called them "Overpowered." Basically we were a collective of every fuckhead that would show up in your favorite roleplay forum, bring out a character that was not only Gary Stu levels of fuckpowerful but actually had a credible storyline, actual methods of how to be beaten as well as how to get stronger, and basically just DBZ'ed shit up.

Sure, it could be fun at first but eventually people with no imagination would eventually start clamoring and that person would leave. My homeboy, the guy who owns/ran Extreme Existence, added it into the meta-storyline of the origins of the group: that there are levels of reality a sentient person can achieve. Eventually they can become as powerful as gods, then higher gods, then a couple of other levels but the final be-all end-all (1000 gnosis points) were the Overpowered. Out of the entirety of the multiverse (you can see this comin', yah? Each action and choice spawns a new dimension of reality, etc), each reality (sometimes fewer) can provide a single Overpowered out of the countless millions of trillions of souls.

These Overpowered would eventually find a place in a far-flung universe and, banding together, would turn to face the great dangers and "S Grade" threats to the multiverse. Not all people in the Extreme Existence were heroic, in fact there were quite a few villains who would deign to simply be an anti-hero from time to time (especially S or even S+ grade villains, creatures and beings who could destroy all of existence if they weren't stopped), only to turn around and attempt to fuck us up themselves during times of weakness.

Altogether it was fun. I don't think we numbered any more than thirty or forty people, but we were all bona-fide forumwreckers who hungered to write out awesome fight scenes, spectacular moments of violence, and pretty much indulge in the idea that power alone did not a character make...but it sure made things fun.

Not to get distracted, but I remember one guy who roleplayed a hobo who had the powers of a god so long as he didn't have any money. Suffice it to say his reality-warping abilities was almost NEVER fucked over because no one caught onto this until yours truly hit him in the face with a pocketful of change.

Yeaaaah, that shit was fun.

Anyway, Battleworld takes place on one of the Extreme Existence's "experimental worlds," a series of worlds they themselves established in order to create more heroic Overpowereds in order to ensure that the rising threat of S-grade (and increasingly stronger) threats could be dealt with properly. The only problem is you can't just mass-produce and clone Overpowereds, they have to be spawned out naturally. Sometimes this came through technology, or a mass-consciousness, or magic, or even simple biological drives but the definition of an Overpowered was always the same:

1) The ability to achieve 1000 gnosis either temporarily or permanently
2) The ability to travel the multiverse on their own
3) The ability to visit the home universe of the Extreme Existence on their own.

Sometimes rules have been bent (they've allowed "Overpowereds" as low as 900 into the fold, and it's been noted that a few of the so-called "Shadow Council" and "High Council" themselves were able to travel between worlds but not realities, and sometimes a little push was given via friends and contacts) but for the most part these were the three traits that all within the Extreme Existence shared.

Battleworld in and of itself is yet another example of the Extreme Existence's experiments, a place where four distinct groups (The Kraze Armada, the Legion of Demnos, the Horde, and the Krieg Army) are destined to battle and from them a single (if not more - all four leaders are pretty much of a proper level to become Overpowereds on their own) Overpowered could arise and be brought into the fold, if they so desired. That all four groups are distinctly of the philosophy that they probably WOULD accept such an enrollment was also something they took into account. That and the Overpowered (Nepthis the Everdust) designated to this sector was on the verge of imploding unless he got out and, so the Extreme Existence told him, if he cannot find a replacement of sufficient power he's doomed to stay chained to the planet itself.

All sortsa fun reasons as to why, and I won't give it away here but you get the point. The oldest of the four groups are the Horde, and they're actually native to the planet (though I won't give away anything more than that). Next would be the Legion of Demnos who, like the other two final groups, came to this planet in search of Paradise. Next would be the Kraze Armada, descendants of Harkonnen Kraze herself (my own personal Rule 63 Mary Stu and a fave reoccurring character of my homeboy's - she's practically in the canon even after the disbanding of the forum), the legendary Imperial-blooded Planeswalker of Neo-Tokyo's origin. Last but not least are the descendants of yet another of my rage-fueled characters, Maximum Krieg, the "Krieg Army." Out of all four groups, the Krieg Army is the youngest on this world, having crash-landed a mere two years ago and have already entrenched themselves within the Wastelands to the east.

Anyway, I'm done transcribing all the crap I wrote over the holiday vacation, and am attempting to figure a way to post it without posting spoilers, y'know? What do YOU guys think? Lemme know and if I get enough of ya sayin' "Hey, let's see this!" I'll post the write-ups on The Pen Is My Sword and go from there.

I'd REALLY like to drum up some artists and programmers for this, but more than likely I'll hafta use crap ASCII characters and program it m'self. At least in the beginning...I dunno, maybe I'm being too optimistic?

Lemme know.


So some of you know I play the vidyuh, right? Well here's a coupla titles that have really been eating up my gametime otuside of Ultimate Marvel Versus Capcom 3 (in b4 LOL COMBOLOCK I got into it for my tourney friends - the MOMENT Guilty Gear 3 or XXX comes out, I'm on that shit).

Katawa Shoujo in a nutshell

Shizune: Bang Misha first, get bad ending. No drills, but still bangworthy even if a bit melancholic and unfappable. Screw Shizune multiple times 'cuz I keep fapping to her route. It's not even that she has gigantic tits, she just has a small frame and an hourglass figure. I just, honestly, really dig her competitive, aggressive nature. As a fellow competitive, aggressive type I find it an absolute turn on to actually make love to an equal.

Narcissistic? Naw, I don't mind masturbation but I wouldn't want to fuck myself or my own clone. UNLEEEEESS it was a rule 63 situation, then holy hell we'd be in trouble.

I'm just sayin', yo.

Rin: 2deep4u. 2deep4u EVERYWHERE. So many feels, but not the usual assortment: namely I just enjoyed her cloud cuckoolanderness and thought the whole gallery situation was a bit forced. The art teacher needs to be taken out to the ol' wood shed and put down like the frothing idiot he is.

I hate people who live their lives vicariously through others. Get your own talent, you hack.

Emi: Don't wanna talk about it. Not even because I liked the h-scenes or because of the ending, if you've read the post you know why.

Don't wanna talk about it.

Hanako: Mmmm, crispy bacon and sweet rabbit. Seriously, she smelled like bunny from the get-go, and something about her just drives my sadistic streak completely wild.

Pretty good h-scene too. For whatever reasons, I refused at the time to play the bad ending or "worst" ending, even if that meant a rape scene. Just wasn't up for it, really.

Lily: Her h-scenes really kinda disappointed me, except for the blindfold sex. Then Hisao disappointed me. For a girl with a "normal adolescent sex drive," she sure didn't show it. Emi had a better sex drive. BUUUUUUT, I can really dig Lily's classiness and various faces.

Plus she's a tall, blonde, half-scottish half-japanese hottie with impeccable taste for tea. A+++, great buyer, would bang again.

...I still prefer Shizune though. She's just more exciting.

Hell, I only WISH they'd let you bang either Miki, Yuuko (OH GOD YUUKO HNNNNG) or Akira.

Shit, I could already see Akira's route being a Phoenix Wright-ish situation. Not that I played the PW games, but my god do I wanna get my hands on 'em. Might as well anyway, thanks to the internuggets I know a bit of the lore of the games and they do agree with my sense of storyline writing.

That and I've already got that horribly translated PW porn game, so might as well, y'know?

Where was I? Oh yeah, Akira.


Just so fucking cool. Girl works a business pantsuit, for real.

Not all women can pull it off, but then again not all men can pull off pink shirts or silk pajamas.

I'm just sayin'.

Skyrim in a nutshell

RIP November 2011.

I don't even fucking remember you.


~That Bastard

Wednesday, January 18, 2012

WARNING: Tons of emo. Just gettin' stuff off of my manly chest.

I don't know where to begin.

This is funny only because I'm a punk writer, have been writing...well, maybe not GOOD but consistently...for nearly a decade now. That is, the style of writing that I employ has been stabilized (but hopefully steadily improving!) since my early twenties. Certainly to the point where I can communicate as clearly in writing as I can vocally, a skill that I am also pretty good at.

Yet despite all that, I don't know where to begin.

I guess...tonight. Tonight would be a good place to start.

Y'see, I was finally able to sob the way I deserve to. Even worse, it wasn't over the incredibly cliched events that have shortly rent my current life asunder.

I didn't cry when she dumped me after three years, even if it was over something that should've been dealt with the first hour of us meeting. I didn't cry at my crushing loneliness both before and after her. I didn't cry at how low my personal standards have fallen, both hygienically and physically. I didn't cry at how much of my physicality I've lost. I didn't cry at my horrible prospects of a future, being pigeonholed as a minimum-wage factory worker, with tens of thousands of dollars of debt (medical, student, an old repossessed car, everything I've ever failed at) crushing my broad shoulders. I didn't cry at my current lodgings: a sad little cabin, smaller than a dorm room with no proper plumbing and only cold water, a door that never keeps a draft out and windows that lack proper locks. I haven't even cried at past shame and pathetic squandering of my talents, revealed to me as I recently burned ten years of old paperwork I've lugged around in four huge cardboard boxes, bills and worse kept secreted away like a packrat's folly.

I haven't shed a real tear about how I currently live in this cold hovel, my clothes in need of updating, my wardrobe sparse. I didn't cry at donating so many books, so much of the life we've built these past three years...together.

I didn't cry when she told me that our religious beliefs weren't the same, so we couldn't build a family together.

That nearly did it, honestly...but it didn't.

I didn't cry hearing from quite a few others that it was better off this way, that it wasn't my fault. I know it wasn't, but it still hurt all the same.

It's not that I believe crying is unmanly, in fact quite the opposite: manly tears should only be shed for a good reason. Tears are the lubricant of the soul, so it is said.

And it wasn't until tonight that I could finally let loose with body-shaking, soul-wracking sobs and wails, finally able to stop blaming myself and simply accept my situation. I am far from the pedestal I've placed my previous self, back when I ruled unopposed and happy.

Back when I thought being alone was my only worry.

Perhaps this is growing up? I dunno. If growing up means simply shouldering the burdens of ever greater pain, then perhaps Peter Pan isn't as much of a coward as I used to think.

The saddest part is that pain seems to have always been a part of my life. To take it, to deal it out, to control it and get the job done.

To go cold and do what needs be done. Practical but what I've lost in the interrum...

Maybe this is yet a new step for me, in my personal growth? I don't know, again. I hate admitting that, but there you have it. To feel the pain yet feel numb to it at the same time...I don't think that's a good thing. It may not be a good thing after all, but it's something I'll have to accept.

I'll start this with tonight, but I think I can finish with it tomorrow. Perhaps the days after?

I don't know, but at least I'll try.

The sad part is, I can't even claim that this fatalistic, blockheaded viewpoint is an adult one. Amongst the papers I DID keep rather than consign to the fire was a school journal I had found, one that I had kept back when I was 14. Apparently I haven't changed as much as I thought, save that I can explain myself a bit better. That and I understand a bit more the innate reasons of why I do the things I do, and who I actually am.

When I was a child I knew these things inherently, but the older I get the clearer I can communicate and explain those reasons.

So yeah, I know this isn't my fault. But I can deal with it.

I can get back up, hell I already have since returning to WA save that my emotions finally caught up with me.

So here I am in this cold, snowed-in and weather-blown cabin, my body aging, doing my best to catch up to tomorrow. I honestly don't know if I ever will be able to, but I think...well, y'know that sayin'. It's not in the destination, it's in the journey.

I don't think that it's as important that I catch up tomorrow, just that I'm still unafraid to reach out and try.

On the geekier side, would you like to know why I feel the need to write all this, to share with (some) complete and total strangers? Well, y'see while I'm fighting back against frost and freeze, my car a solid block of fucking ice, I've been taking time by getting caught up on various written projects (namely transcribing a whole bunch of stuff I wrote in a notebook over the christmas holiday) and alongside that playing a Virtual Novel by the name of "Katawa Shoujo," a dating simulator where you play a character with Arrhythmia who for whatever reason goes to a school that is mainly for the disabled. Hell, smut as well as a romantic comedy VN? Why the fuck not, y'know?

Except three out of five of the girls, I saw so many aspects of my ex-fiancee and partner-in-crime that I began to worry. Then the last one hit, a girl by the name of Emi who was spunky, extremely physical, short and cute. Sure she was missing her legs from the top of the calves down, but she got by with legblades (look 'em up yerdamnself, googles is over there -> ), and was a track star even before then apparently.

Now, here's the thing...I was going right along with the usual business, choosing options and conversational choices that would lead me towards the good ending 'cuz, hell, I simply don't enjoy a bad ending for any of my lovers in real life and my video game characters mirror that.

Then comes the drama part of it, which hits me in a flash: as she says some rather hurtful words ("I can never allow you to get close to me, I can only rely on myself") to the main character I tear up and realize what's wrong with this.

I kept thinking that this chick reminded me of my ex, like the other three (for whatever reason Shizune is nothing like that at all, which I guess is why I keep replaying her segments - that and totally rocking bewbage) but in that singular moment, that flash of a couple of phrases that it hits me...

That's me. That's not my ex, that's me. I've been enjoying this route the same way I enjoy anything that is...well, me-related.

And in that moment it also crushes me, just...everything. Everything just hits me like an unblocked roundhouse to the fucking dome. Everything.

The hurt, the pain, the shame, the loneliness, the pathetic surroundings I find myself in, my constant paranoia because of the drunks and mentally insane that inhabit these campgrounds. Is this how my friends see me? Is this how I make them feel when I point out that I'll get through things fine on my own?

Jesus fucking christ, is this why my dad's been calling me every other day rather then waiting a week or two for me to call him?!

Now that I've calmed down (half an hour of soul-cleansing sobbing, finished the game with the happy ending but then immediately started writing this) I can see the past week and a half or so since I've come back from a different viewpoint. I've hurtled myself headlong into just being busy, dealing with seeing my ex and her father as we halved and dealt with our storage unit, all I've been doing is keeping my emotions at arms length until I could deal with them on their own terms.

But...I could've visited a friend of mine, who probably would've let me cry on his shoulder. I could've let the friends I DID visit (mainly 'cuz, in hindsight, if I had visited that particular friend I probably would've ended up breaking down and crying) know how I was feeling about the whole situation. Hell, I could've even gone to older friends of mine, on the internet and in real life, who probably would've given me a clear ten minutes and a listening ear while I cried into my keyboard. I now, well...I think I now...can empathize clearer as towards how others might feel when those who are close to me know that I'll be there for them when they show up at my doorstep in the fucking rain at 3 a.m. in the morning and I've immediately got their back, yet I won't do that to anyone else.

Then again, I've always been completely honest about being selfish and egocentric. But, and I'm not making rationalizations here, it's in that brutal honesty that I've always staked my life on, the ability to back up my claims with honor and deed.

So...I don't know.

I fucking hate not knowing, but I can accept it.

Is this catharsis? Will I be able to wake up, cold and alone once again?

Yeah and yes. Tomorrow will come, or it won't. Did I learn anything at all from any of this?

Naw. Not at all.

But I'll deal with tomorrow headlong, once again focused on getting shit done and doing what I must. 'S all, really.

Whoever you are who reads this, even if you're said ex-fiancee...don't worry. Seriously, don't worry.

I'm fine now. I'm alright. I'm not okay, but I'm getting better.

And I AM going to get better. Tomorrow's gonna be a better day, y'know?

One way or another.

Sincerely, That Bastard

P.S. - Yes, it is cold and storming as a motherfucker out here. The wind is blowin', it's too fucking cold to watch movies on the PS2 (the av connectors are all freezing up), and all I've had to do is type and try and stay warm. Despite all that, this comes up.

Coincidence? Naw, mang. 'S that sentimental side of yer boi, 's all. Just watch, the MOMENT things get warm I'll get all alpha male dominant again.

'Til me a favor and hold me, just this once?

Also, no I will not delete this post. I was honestly thinking of doing just that, whining and bitching to you guys...but that seems dishonorable, somehow. In the very least disrespectful to both myself and anyone who's reading this.

So instead, let's just not talk about this post again, alright? I'll have something funny/enraging/offensive up next post.

Just for now, let's get through this cold, stormy night together.