I was in Seattle this past weekend for the Penny Arcade Expo. It was crazy busy and although it was a lot of fun, could have benefited from a little more organizational skills on behalf of its, er, organizers. No line will ever seem long to me now, having been to PAX. Still have a shitload of fun, just had to wait in lots of lines with no indication I’d even get to see what I wanted to because the Enforcers did not cut off the lines at any point - people only found out they wouldn’t get into something AFTER the line started moving and after the venues/theatres were already full. So that’s great, and by great, I mean fucking ridiculous. I hope they address this next year, and I hope the organizers spend some time at other conventions at some point so they can learn a few things about crowd control.

Hopefully next year will be even better.

That’s all I hear right now. Low tones, high tones. Notes held for way too long. The ringing in my head has company.

Beginning to wonder if what I have is just a case of summer allergies. In fact, I’m kind of hoping it is. Today at work I finally crossed the last thing off my ever-fluctuating “to do” list and it felt pretty good. Then I had a feeling of dread - now what? It didn’t last too long because I found a bunch of other stuff to occupy my time with.

Tomorrow is X’08. It’s a big (huge!) media event where upcoming Xbox 360 games will be shown. Last year’s event was actually the first press event I’d gone to concerning gaming, and it was before I even had a good creative outlet to write for because at most Chart would have published a 60-word overview of what happened maybe three months after the fact (if at all). And in fact, they didn’t ask that I write anything for it so it was mostly a chance to just play games. Not that I minded that. For tomorrow, I’ll be taking a camera and tape recorder. I will even make internets happen afterwards. Ah, technology, you make me complete.

Today was the first day in what feels like ages that I didn’t get a bajillion visitors looking at Professor Layton Deleted Scenes. Instead, I got about a half bajillion visitors to my write-up but not a review of Too Human, which is an Xbox 360 game that is cool to hate. I’ve already established myself as not being cool some time around 1979 - so I really like the game. What are you gonna do, give me a wedgie because of it?

Also, found these awesome dudes at the Bible-y thrift store this weekend. They weren’t out in the open but instead tucked away in the box of a Star Tracks* Interactive VHS Board Game! How awesome are they? I love Captain Pickard*!

*I did this to piss off the Star Track fans.

Wow. The weather is finally nice this evening. Mark that down in your calendar, folks. The first nice evening of the summer and it’s already August 19! What a terrible year, weather-wise. We’re all going to die soon.

It thus comes as no surprise that on this first nice evening of the summer, I am coming down with what appears to be a cold. Itchy ears, scratch throat, and dripping phlegm are the signs that clued me in to this. I think I’ll be able to fight this one off because I have a lot of exciting things coming up in the next little while that I can’t emotionally afford to miss.

This Friday, I’ll be leaving work early to go to the FanExpo – FOR WORK. Yes, my workplace is paying to send me to a comic, sci-fi, anime, horror, and all-out NERD convention. I love it. Now I know I’ve been diplomatic in the past when discussing my previous and shitty job and comparing it to my new most excellent and amazing job – but aww, fuck it. My old place would never let me even read a comic at my desk, let alone send me to a convention. So uh, stick that up your ass, “old place of employment!”

Next week I’m also going to go to another giant nerdfest for work – the Penny Arcade Expo, in Seattle! Fancy stuff. Have I made it in life when my workplace pays to send me to things that I would otherwise have gladly paid to go to (had I the money)? I’d like to think so. So uh, stick it up your ass, guy on the train who has a Rolex but hates his life!

Haha. I’m horrible today. I blame David Bowie. You know, just ’cause.

I realize in my attempt to make this site look like the interface of a shitty old computer, I’ve made things a little difficult to read. If it hurts your eyes, I’m really sorry. On the upside, you could always just read this in your RSS “thingy” instead.

Finally going to have some coffee. The carafe broke 4 days ago and we had to buy a new maker just to get a carafe. Dying of withdrawal. Must…. Have… COFFEE.

Yesterday the video card on my computer fried, and it wasn’t even during a particularly intense rendering moment. Oh no. It fried while surfing for replacement coffee carafes. Why are they so expensive? $20 for a fucking pot to make coffee in? That’s how much I paid for the entire coffee maker!

And why is the glass they’re made from so bloody thin? It’s like they’re designed to break just so you have to buy a new one. They’re like the razor of the kitchen.

One thing I think is so hilarious is the concept of the “Man Room.” Are you familiar with this concept? I am, thanks to television shows such as “Take This House And Sell It” in which people who can’t sell their homes get help from professional designers to tidy their shit up and move on. In more than one episode that I’ve seen, the home has a “Man Room” in it.

And what is this fabled Man Room, you ask? Well it’s a room where the Man of the house apparently decides that all conventions of tidiness, neatness, and tastefulness need not apply. Simply put, it’s a room for the guy of the household to be a big fat slob and sit around with his nuts hanging out. Amirite?

Anyhow, I have no problem with people in long term relationships who live with their significant other to want to have a little place of their own to sit back and relax and just unwind to collect his/her thoughts. But do guys need to have a “man” room? I mean, seriously? You’re not eight fucking years old and women are not gross and will not give you cuties (or cooties, whatever). Do Man Rooms need to be so gross?

If you have a “Man Room” and you call it that, you’re a doofus. Might as well crush a beer can on your head ’cause you don’t use it for much else. Oh, and can I come over for a sausage party? I’ll totally show you my weiner!