The Purple Tux
With just enough education to perform.Sunday, January 26, 2003
Last night we had the Epic dinner at our apartment. Viet, you are the man. Viet knows how to cook. Viet dominated the night. Without Viet Nguyen, the Greala, the V-Rattic, the night would not have been possible. To Viet, I give major props. Viet, you are the heart and soul of Epic. Or at least you keep us well-fed. Viet, you rock. Viet is too cool. So word up to Viet.
As for Jigga Yoon and Roy- I think we'll remember Lunar New Year. Heh, heh, heh... heheheheh hahahaha HAHAHAHAHA BWAHAHAHAHAHA!!!
Sunday, January 19, 2003
Something different.
I am in Davis this three day weekend. I thought I was going to get much work accomplished, but it's already Sunday evening and I haven't done any homework yet. In fact, I haven't even started. Actually, I haven't even touched my books yet. That's not to say that it's been a wasted weekend, though. I think I'll just note what I did this weekend so far, to organize my thoughts and pump myself up for Monday.
After class on Friday, I ate at the Hut with Ma, and we saw freshman Ben Lo there. Ma had to go back to class, so Ben and I chatted for a while in the restaurant. I returned to Oakshade in the midafternoon and basically spent my entire afternoon just recharging my powers; essentially, I sat around by myself in my room, listening to music and taking advantage of our new router to download more stuff. I definitely could have done some reading, but I didn't. I think I just enjoyed hanging out with myself without having to actually exercise my mind. My memories of Friday evening are pretty blurry. However, when it got late, the man J. Go came over to my apartment, and we hung out with the Greala, talking for a couple hours. During that conversation, I learned some rather disturbing information that I'm not sure I quite wanted to know. Oh well, it's too late now, and I despite the fact that I've lost my "ignorance is bliss" status, I'm hoping that the truth will set me free. Whatever that's supposed to mean. J. Go left around 1:30AM or 2AM early Saturday morning, and Viet and I were about to hit the sack (taken out of context, that last bit could be taken as some kind of raging homosexual innuendo), but for some reason, when it's night, Viet and I just get talkative. We ended up talking about stuff for another couple hours and went to sleep (not with each other) around 4AM. You might wonder what we talk about at such crazy hours, and for such lengths. I think that guys need to spend more time talking with each other. Communication is crucial. I didn't really tell you what we talked about, but you can ask Josh Go about the crazy gossip. It sounds far more disturbing coming from his mouths than from my keyboard anyway.
I woke up around 11:45AM on Saturday morning. Viet had already left for Antioch, so it was just Ma and me in the apartment (Matt went back to his house Friday afternoon). Called up Ben Lo, and he biked over to Oakshade. The three of us had some Dos and then we hung out in our apartment to digest a little bit before we went to Allegre to shoot some hoops on their ghetto court. We shot around and played some horse and then some more guys showed up, so we played a few pick up games. I think the shrimp burrito I had at the Dos gave me heartburn because when we were running, I was really feeling weird. By the time we were done, it was probably around 6PM or so. Ma, Ben, and I went over to grab some food at Quizno's and ate it back at the apartment. Watched TV for a couple hours. Blind Date is such a trashy show. Everyone who participates on that show is some kinda horny freak. Either that, or shallow. Usually it's both. There was a basketball game on as well, so we watched that. Then, around 8:30PM, Ultra Roy and another Josh, Jigga Yoon, came over, bringing along their guitars and their roommates' Magic cards. Tight. Before we started playing with Magic cards (a nerd game I used to be so into back in 6th-8th grade... I feel sorry that I gave all my cards away... man, I had such great stuff), we went to Marble Slab to get some. Ice cream, that is. Then Ma, Roy, Josh, and I played Magic for hours while watching the basketball game on TV. After the Kings lost to the Clippers (heheheheh), I tried teaching Roy and Josh how to play some MvC2. I don't know what Ma and Ben were doing, but eventually Ben biked back to the dorms and Ma holed himself in his room, probably downloading stuff. Roy, Josh, and I ended up talking about stuff (one of the best words ever) until like almost 4AM. It was tight, even though I was tired this morning.
Yeah, so I woke up at 10AM and went to Roy and Josh's church in Sacramento. I came home and spent a great deal of time sorting out some of the MP3s I downloaded. Then somehow Ma convinced me to build a Magic deck, so we spent a bunch of time checking out websites for cards. About an hour ago, I ate some cereal for lunch, and I think I'll take out the trash now. Then, I'll try to think of some other excuse so I can put off starting my buttload of homework.
Thursday, January 16, 2003
I wrote this next rant back on December 6, 2002 when I was still playing tons of SF. Many of you will be surprised that as of Jan 6, 2003, I am undergoing a 40 day fast from playing at the MUGA.
The "art" of Reverse Rushdown???
I've been playing a lot more CvS2 (Capcom Vs. SNK 2) lately. I don't know, there are a lot of things I really like about that game, but a few major things about it that piss the crap out of me. Actually, there's only one thing: JUST WAITING. I mean TURTLES. Also known as Reverse Rushdown, which is one of the lamest but funniest SF terms I've heard in a long while. Basically, turtles just "hide" in their "shells" by running away from you the entire match. They wait until you whiff an attack and try to punish you. One annoying aspect of CvS2 is how it actually seems to reward turtling. Even in MvC2, most of the time turtlers get killed (unless the turtler is Cable or a runaway Storm, or has Captain Commando Anti-air Assist). But in CvS2, I get friggin' killed by these lesser skilled players who just turtle all day. Piss the crap out of me!!!
I admit that I am an unapologetic tierwhore (I use Blanka and Cammy), but at least when I pick my top tiers, I attack people! I run at them and just try to keep applying as much pressure as I can. And I also use K-Groove, so when I get my meter Raged out, turtlers be running away like mad... I mean, don't make it TOO obvious, huh? I can always tell who's a true turtler, because when I taunt the other guy, he doesn't attack me. How lame is that... Like this one dude I know said, "You KNOW a guy's turtling when you taunt him and he can't attack you." SOOOO true. And man, some fools are such huge turtlers that I can just straight up walk to them and throw them. Heheheh, that usually frustrates them and gets them riled, and it makes the scrubbier ones want to throw me back, which is so obvious it's stupid. One time I seriously got the turtler in the corner, and just kept throwing him. I threw him 5 times, and that's how I killed him, coming back from a big deficit. Boy, he sure got pissed. That kind of stuff always makes me feel good inside. It gives me an enormous sense of well-being to be able to send a weak turtler away, especially when they get so mad that they just leave the arcade. Hahahaha!!
To quote some old school Street Fighter II sayings:
"Anyone who opposes me shall be destroyed!" -M.Bison
"Go home and be a family man!" -Guile
"You must defeat my Dragon Punch to stand a chance." -Ryu
"Handsome fighters never lose a battle." -Vega
Cool- and by that I mean, like, totally sweet- I can finally post...
I actually wrote this mini-essay during English class on Monday, but I couldn't post it until now. That is, assuming I CAN post more than 3 lines now...
01/13/03
Who knew sex could be so sexless?
The quarter started a week ago, and it looks like it'll be a better quarter for me this time. Yeah, it's early, so I'm actually a bit pumped up. I'm taking English- Intro to Drama, German 2, Geology- Dinosaurs, and Avian Sciences- Intro to Poultry (Chicken class). All I know is that I don't have math class again, and last year my best semester by far was spring, when I didn't have math to drag me the crap down.
So in Chicken class the past few days, we've been going over the reproductive systems of chickens. The professor is one serious, strict old disciplinarian. You'd think that a three unit course entitled Introduction to Poultry would be an easy B.S. class, but nope. Not with her. She doesn't even let us chew gum or wear hats in class!! How old fashioned can you get, sheesh. The professor takes the subject matter very seriously. You know how at a funeral, everyone is all serious and solemn, but then the guy who eulogizes the deceased is still able to bring a smile to all the mourners by telling a few jokes about what the dead guy did when he was alive? Well, I think that if our professor were to eulogize someone, it would be a completely jokeless, utterly formal affair. She'd say, "So and so was a great friend, even though he played a few pranks here and there," but she wouldn't mention what kind of humorous pranks he played.
The professor is so serious, nothing can shake her out of it. I mean, c'mon, it's freakin' CHICKEN class!! Listen to the name of the class... How can you take it completely seriously? She could at least make an attempt at humor by cracking (haha, get the pun?) a few "Why did the chicken cross the road?" jokes. Then again, she has a PhD in like Avian Sciences, or Chicken Science, or Fowl Studies, or Poultry Development, or some such crud. Plus, she's fairly aged now, so she's dedicated a major portion of her life to studying chickens. That'd probably be enough to drive anyone insane. Try to imagine spending forty or fifty years of your freakin' life studying CHICKENS! Studying how they're conceived, how they reproduce, how females lay and incubate eggs, how they digest food, what kind of texture and crap their feathers have.. I mean, shoot, I wouldn't throw my life away studying freakin' chickens. Give me comic books, rock 'n' roll, Street Fighter, or Bill Walton, but please, don't make me waste a lifetime on... chickens!
I suppose, then, that makes people like the professor some kind of super hero. She's like some kinda super patriot for sacrificing the meaning of her life so that the rest of us can eat chicken in all its delectable forms in good conscience. Actually, were I in my professor's provision, I would be evil and do my best to make chickens seem action-packed and ninja-level top tier. I'd tell all the kids that chickens have real ultimate power and crap, so then the kids would be interested. Then, when they graduate with a degree in Chickenology, they'd feel obligated to spend the rest of their pitiful lives in such a nugatory field. Hahaha, what a cruel trick! But does that mean my professor, by exposing us early on to the boredoms of chicken studies, is subconsciously warning us to stay away from the field? Is she saving our lives? Or is she merely a personality vacuum?
Earlier, I mentioned that for the past few lectures, the professor has talked about reproduction. Okay, I'm about to get a little crass pretty soon, so if you're prudish, you might as well stop reading this. All right. So, y'know, the subject of chicken reproduction is ripe for some much-needed levity in such a mundane class. So does the professor take the bait? Nuh-uh. Man, I never knew that talking about semen, sperm, ovaries, and ejaculation could be so unexciting. The professor drones in just about the most boring tone of voice ever, with a steady rhythm to her enunciation of words in sentences. It's almost enough to make me wish I were asexual.
And remember, this is chicken class. That means there are other terms which would be suitable for laughter. Take, for instance, a mature male chicken, which is technically a cock. Yeah, everybody knows that "cock" originally referred to these dirty beasts, but even so, unless you are a self-righteous boob, you have to admit that it's still funny that the word "cock" is still used to refer to chickens. The scientists should have changed the term once it gained its connotation of being a wang. Besides, hardly anyone ever still uses the word "cock" to refer to a chicken. I don't know about you, but I wouldn't say, "Yo, I'm going to KFC to eat some fresh cock." It just don't sound right, man.
I think the funniest thing ever occurred in class today, though. She was telling us about hormones and crap, and mentioned this guy named Bertholl who founded Endocrinology. She started off talking about him by telling us the years he lived and one of his most important experiments. She began with, and I quote, "Bertholl had a nice big cock with a large comb." I was freakin' about to laugh!!! I only saw two or three other guys trying not to laugh, but I swear, if one of my friends were in the class with me, we'd make eye contact and just freakin' roll off our chairs laughing like crazy!! I mean, it was just so hilarious, I think you had to be there. I don't think the professor even noticed what she said, she just kept droning on. But that was still super funny. He had a nice big cock with a large comb!! HAHAHAHA!!!
Monday, January 13, 2003
Alright, so I can post one line at a time. So close... and yet, so far.
Piece of crud, I can't post my awesome 2.5 page single space post. Can I at least post this one or two lines of text??
The DSL or the router has been acting up... I can't even post more than just a few lines on forums. I think I've got the problem stabilized now, though.
Friday, January 03, 2003
Wait, actually, it feels tremendously great to be able to just unleash a can of ruthless fury upon some weak people after struggling so much for a single victory against the guys I usually play with.
San Diego boosted my ego.
I'm back in SF, for another day or so. The Christmas Conference was cool- and by cool, I mean like totally sweet. San Diego is a pretty nice city. I know I'm a phat homeboy and don't go out much, but if I had to live in a city besides SF (only people who don't live in SF call San Francisco "Frisco"- such a nonsense term), I think I'd like to chill out in SD.
I managed to find a tiny arcade in an SD wharf, in Seaport Village. They had MvC2, so I played a bit, used some Magneto/Storm/Iron Man. A younger kid challenged me, and he was probably in middle school. He watched me play for a minute, and then asked me, "Are you good?" I just smiled and said, "Uh... I'm okay..." So the kid puts his tokens in and I don't know, I just totally mercilessly wailed on him. I took him down to his last character who had barely enough life to survive one 4 hit combo. Then I felt bad because my Magneto still had 3/4 of a full life bar (I obviously had no need to tag out). I let him kill Magnus, then I just put him out of his misery. Afterwards, he said, "I guess you are pretty good." Then he just walked away.
Then, some dude who worked at the arcade saw me beat the first kid, so he came up to challenge me. He looked at my team and said, "Man, you use a cheap team." Fool had the audacity to use the C-Word on me. I showed him even less mercy than I did on the kid. He was a huge scrub. I mean, think about it. He calls me cheap and acts like he's about to show me what TRUE SKILL is by picking Morrigan/B.B. Hood/Blackheart. I sodomized him badly, and overkilled his people with super cancels, etc. Dude, I'm not even that good, but it's pretty bad if MY Magneto/Storm/Iron Man rushdown (triangle jumping/overheads) confuse the crap out of you. After I owned the worker for free, he said, "Ahem, yeah, okay, well, I gotta get back to work now." That was too good.
