Tuesday, November 30, 2010

Dishes and Taxes

Fun things! Today, when I was at Max, I paid attention to two boxes that have always been by the entrance of his door. They were boxes of dishes. I asked Max if could inspect them, and found that they are two sets of these adorable dishes! White porcelain with gold stars! Each box has 4 big dinner plates, 4 soup plates, 4 dessert plates, 4 saucers and 4 little coffee cups. So, so cute! Max said I could have them, so now I have a very nice set of matching dishes. I was originally just going to go to Value Village and pick out something eccentric, but I like these much better.

I want to live in this new house now :(

Also, I went to my momma's house and did my taxes today! It was pretty confusing at first, but not actually that hard. And if everything goes smoothly, I might be getting back $1295 from it! Damn, why do people hate doing taxes? They seem pretty awesome, if you get money back.

I want to change my blog settings, so it can only allow certain people access, but I'm not really sure how to do it. I wish there was an option for selecting people from the list of those already following it, because there is one person I need to remove. Ah well, I'll figure it out.

Hopefully there will be something more eventful to update with soon. Until then, peace out.

Sunday, November 28, 2010

New Houses and Old Annoyances

Why has it been so long since I last updated, you ask? Because I am a lazy, good for nothing retard who's only desire is to play Fallout all day. Yup.

My children, I have fabulous news to share with you. The most fabulous news that ever... was... news? Whatever, I'M MOVING! AAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!!!

As you can maybe tell, I am ridiculously excited about this. I've never moved before! Well, I moved to Vancouver from Toronto when I was just about 2 years old, but that hardly counts since I don't remember it at all. And since I was 2, I'm assuming I didn't do any of the packing and whatnot. But this time, I'm going to do everything! Eee, I'm so excited! Also, this will give me a chance to throw out all the useless shit I have laying around.

Okay, let me tell you about the house. It's this big, 60 year old house in North Burnaby, which is where I'm told all the other wops like myself live. It doesn't look like much from the front, but from the back it looks huuuuge! There's a big backyard, and a lovely big garden plot that we are going to grow so many things in! There are also two pear trees on the property. I wonder if you can make pear pie? I guess you'd make it the same as you would apple pie. But anyway. There's a big driveway that has enough room for all three of my dad's vehicles. The house itself has three floors: top, main and basement. At the moment, that basement is exactly what you'd picture a basement to look like: unfinished, no insulation, cold, dark, creepy, etc. But we're going to slowly, slowly fix it up and eventually add one or two bedrooms down there, for Rachel and Peter.

The main floor is where my dad and Nick will be living (in case I haven't mentioned him before, Nick is my dad's friend's son, who came here from Ontario and is staying with us for awhile). Their bedrooms are both pretty decent sized. The living room is nothing special, but it does have a fireplace (as does the basement). The kitchen on the main floor is huge! Just really spacious, with high ceilings. The bathroom is decent sized as well, and there are like a million closets everywhere. Also, the kitchen has one of those fold-down ironing boards that's really characteristic of old houses. I got so excited when I saw it. It has like, a little hinged door over it, and I was looking at it thinking "Oh my god, is this what I think it is?" and when I opened it and saw the ironing board, I was like YESSS.

But enough about those lame places. Let's talk about the top floor. My floor.

It's got this little, closed staircase leading up to it, with a door at the bottom and a door at the top, so it's very private. There's a small landing, and directly in front of you is the bathroom. It's just about the same size as the downstairs one, if not a little smaller. To the left is... the kitchen! Yes, the top floor of this house has a full, decent sized kitchen! There's no fridge or oven yet, but there are counters, cupboards and a sink. A nice big window overlooks the mountains and the rest of Burnaby, and there's a nice big table that I hope they're going to be leaving there for me. There a door in the corner of the kitchen that leads into what is going to be Peter's room. He's going to be living in my suite until the basement gets sorted out. His room is very cool, with sloped ceilings. It's the smallest room in the house, but I don't think he will mind.
Back to the landing, if you go to your right, there's a room that I'm going to turn into the living room. Nothing terribly special about it. Small, square, window on the left. But there's a door immediately on the right that leads into what is going to be my room.

It. Is. So. Cute! More sloped ceilings, and much more space than I've ever had. There's a window that looks out over the street, which will be perfect for my people-watching habits. There's a weird little closet, and an alcove that I'm going to stick a desk in and turn into my work area. The floor, as with the downstairs, is all the original hardwood.

I was so excited about it the other day that I couldn't sleep! I can't wait to pack, and then unpack, and paint everything!

In other less satisfying news, my Uncle Tony seems to be staying with us for awhile. I haven't seen or spoke to him for the last 5 years, and was kind of happy not to. I'm pretty sure he was a homeless drug-addict for awhile. Also, two and a half years ago, he fucked my dad out of $1400. He said he wanted to move back to Vancouver, but needed money to bring himself and all his stuff over. So my dad, being the way-too-nice guy that he is, sent him the money. Tony told him that he'd call him in three days... and then my dad never heard back from him. For two and a half years. Then my dad heard he was back in town, and spent ages searching for him. When he finally found him, he was told that Tony had been sleeping in a storage garage. So now he's staying with us.

You may be able to detect that I'm not Tony's biggest fan. You'd be right, because I really don't like him. Even when we were kids, my siblings and I hated his visits. He's pretty much batshit insane, and ever since I found out about how he took that money from my dad, my opinion of him has gotten worse. I know dad's trying to be a good brother, but it's not my fault that Tony is a washed-up loser. He's a grown man, and if he can't take care of himself, then tough titties. I want to move into my nice new house without having the dark cloud that is Tony hanging around. I just know he's going to end up staying for a few months. He's like this bad smell you can't get rid of.

I have no sympathy for people who are losers, for people who rely on others to get by in life. If you can't make things work out for yourself, what use are you? You're the weakest link, and society doesn't need you. I don't care if you think me harsh and cruel. I KNOW that it's harsh and cruel. But it's true. Dad and I are trying to make a nice little life for ourselves, and I don't want Tony raining on our parade. He's just going to freeload, and then leave again. Hopefully then I won't see him for at least another 5 years. I don't care if it's mean. I don't. My opinion is the same for all of the losers in life. Life is hard, and if you can't deal with it, then fuck off.


Anyway. I better get going. Max is leaving for Japan on the 2nd, and we're trying to hang out as much as possible before he leaves. I also have to nip over to my mum's so she can help me do my income tax return whatever, because apparently I owe MSP about $357, unless I can prove that I'm a broke. If I make less than $20,000 a year, I don't have to pay anything! And I definitely do not make over $20,000. Dope.

Tuesday, November 16, 2010

Nice Little Life

So I had such a strange, straaaange dream last night. There were a lot of bizarre elements to it, but the main part was about the afterlife.

A group of children and I (I was either one of the little kids, or a teacher) went on a field trip to a science base, somewhere in the woods. They were apparently doing experiments with time travel, and this being my crazy dream world, they were talking groups of school children on tours throughout time. We showed up, and everything was a flurry of activity. The military was there, and scientists were buzzing around in white lab coats. There was a long, dirt road that disappeared into the forest in front of us, and apparently that was the entrance to the portal. There was a large metal gate in front of us. We waited.

And waited.

We were there for a few hours, and everyone was getting pretty restless. The scientists were all ignoring us. Then, two young boys in my group just ducked under the gate and made a dash for it, laughing that they couldn't wait anymore. The scientists didn't seem to care, but I was frantic.

Then some kind of fight broke out behind us, and we all made a run for it. But it wasn't for time traveling. It was a portal to the afterlife. It wasn't really that great. Lot's of white, and things you wanted but couldn't have. There were all these beautiful clothes I wanted, and I figured that this was heaven so I could just take it, right? No, I was told that I would need to get a job so I could pay for anything I wanted. Worst heaven ever, right?

So I left. But on the other side, all hell had broken loose. There were either aliens or zombies stalking around, killing everyone. I had a pole that I was using to beat their heads in. Most of my fighting took place in what appeared to be a thrift store. Having defeated them, I went out to talk to the scientists to get some straight answers. They said that the group I was there with wasn't supposed to be there for a field trip. We were test subjects, meant to be sent through the portal and, if we returned, taken to have tests preformed on us. A few of the kids that went in with me did come back, but they were changed. They were all really wild and manic looking, and they couldn't stop smiling. They were really scary and savage though, and there veins stood out against their skin, electric blue, and their hair stuck up at odd angles, as if they'd been electrocuted.
There was one boy though, who was actually from the afterlife, or whatever it was supposed to be. He was freakishly intelligent, but looked just as manic and blue as the other children. The scientists kept him around to solve all their big problems.

Ah, it was just such a crazy dream.

So today after work, I went to the Vietnamese restaurant next door and ordered two Lemongrass Chicken Subs to take home for dinner. They were pretty busy, so I took as a seat and waited for my order. It took awhile. The lady brought me a cup of warm jasmine tea to drink while I waited. And as I sat there, drinking the warm tea and feeling the warmth spread out inside me, I was surrounded by the delicious smells of the restaurant and let my sore body ease into the chair. The only thought that came to mind was "What a nice little life I have." It is nice, to be able to take so much pleasure from such simple things.

And now, I think I will make some tea, and play some Fallout. Goodnight.

Sunday, November 14, 2010

Mother Mother and Cute Earrings


I fell in your arms tonight.
I fell hard in your arms tonight,
it was nice.
I died in your arms tonight.
I slipped through into the afterlife,
it was nice.
White lies in your arms tonight.
I lost sight in your arms tonight,
it was nice.

And hey, you, don't you think it's kinda cute
that I [I] died [died] right inside your arms tonight
that I'm fine even after I have died
because it was in your arms I died.

I cried in the afterlife
I cry hard because I have died,
and you're alive.
I try to escape afterlife.
I try hard to get back inside
your arms alive.

And hey [hey], you [you], don't you think it's kinda cute
that I [I] try [try] to escape the afterlife
that I [I] try [try] to get back in your arms alive,
that I died in your arms,
that I fell hard in your arms,
I went and died in your arms that night..

I fell in your arms tonight..
suicide in your arms...

And hey, you, don't you think it's kinda cute
that I [I] died [died] right inside your arms tonight
that I'm fine even after I have died
that I [I] try [try] to escape the afterlife
that I [I] try [try] to get back in your arms alive,
that I died in your arms that night.
I fell in your arms tonight.
I died in your arms tonight.
I lie in your arms tonight.
I fell in your arms tonight


I think this song is incredibly sweet, and always reminds me of Max. It makes me sad too though, and kind of speaks to one of my fears: dying before my loved ones. Oh, I know. I am super fucked up. That is an actual fear I have. Well, maybe this is just a general fear of death, because I'm scared of all my loved ones dying before me too, haha. I've decided though that I'm going to live until I'm 110, and I will be the last one left alive of everyone I knew. I don't really want to give that burden to anyone else.


Okay, so you may may already have an inkling of what my feelings for Mother Mother are like, but I'm going to come out and say I'm in love with them. The whole band and all their songs. And, maybe best of all, they're from Vancouver! So that's just adding to the awesome. One of their other songs that is my total favourite is called Heart Heavy, and please oh please follow that link and listen to the song. The lyrics are really great. I just... I don't think I could really describe my feelings for this song.

So I'm making everyone Christmas cards, and it's very fun! I need to get way more supplies than I already have that, but that trip's going to have to wait until I get paid. Right now I just have pretty papers, blank cards and scissors and glue and shit. I think this will be a nice project to keep me occupied, and then everyone gets handmade cards for Christmas.
Hm, kind of sad to think that I'm putting all this effort into nice cards, when they're probably just going to be tossed after Christmas. Unless the person is a shameless hoarder like me, in which case they'll keep it in a forgotten, dusty box for many years to come.

Also, I bought these the other day:

So cute! I love them, and apparently so does everybody else.

Now, the gravest question of all: Take a nap, or play Fallout? Hm I think I'll just have a shower to wake myself up, and then play Fallout. And then drink limeade! Yesssss. These are all good things.

Wednesday, November 10, 2010

Adventures With Boiling Water and Butter

A few days ago, when I was on my way to Futureshop so I could resurrect Fallout: New Vegas, I noticed I had a missed call from Peter. He was just asking if I was going to deal with the game problem, and then said "Oh, I saw Heather on the bus today. She said something about baking." I was like "Oh dope! I haven't seen Heather in ages!" So I texted her, saying that Peter had seen her on the bus and she'd mentioned baking. She replied with "Uhhh, I don't remember seeing your brother on the bus ever, but I love baking, so I'm down." Turns out Peter was referring to my cousin Heather, and she was talking about the Christmas baking that we were planning for December.

It all worked out though. Made plans for today with Heather to do some good, old-fashioned baking. I told her to text me the ingredients we needed while I was at work. She replied and told me that we needed "16 eggs, 4 cups icing sugar, 1lb of cream cheese, a lemon and chocolate chips. 4 glorious cakes. Stoked." My face was basically like Whaaaaa? and I texted back "Holy shit, 4 cakes?? You're a madwoman, but it's why I love you." to which SHE replied "Lmfao. Two each homie!"

So I bought 16 eggs, and 1lb of cream cheese, etc, and headed over to my good friend Heather's. Heather and I have been friends since pretty much the first day we met, in grade 4. She was the new kid from Newfoundland, and I invited her to play Grounders (if you don't know what Grounders is, you pretty much had no childhood). She doesn't actually remember this day. To her, the first time we met is when she moved into the townhouses that I grew up in, just three houses down from mine. I was shy, but my mom made me go over and say hello. I am so, so glad I did. I haven't been friends with anyone else for as long. It's been 11 years so far. We're not constantly in touch; sometimes we go for months without speaking to each other. But when we do get reunited, it's like we saw each other just the day before.

Anyway, I was talking about cake.

So we made an insane amount of batter, complete with 4 cups of butter and 4 cups of sugar. It was... an abomination. A delicious abomination. When they were cooking in the oven, however, it looked like they were baking in pans full of bubbling butter. They tasted like we'd deep-fried them. Actually, they kind of tasted like cornbread, which I love. We also made lemon cream cheese icing to go with them, and topped all that off with pure milk chocolate chips. Heart attack cake!

In more devastating news, I had a pot of boiling water spilled on my left foot. Heather's lovely friend, Molly, who is really very nice despite maiming me, was trying to drain the gargantuan pot of potatoes that had been boiling quite merrily on the stove. Her hand must have slipped, because I heard her yelp. I didn't actually feel anything for the first 1, 2, 3 seconds, and then OOOOHHHHHHMYYYYFFFUUUCCCKKKIINNNGGGGGOOOODDDDDDDDD. What an unholy pain. I've had burns before, but never on a large scale like this. I was kind of caught between flailing and being frozen in pain, when Heather shouted to take my sock off, which was keeping the boiling water against my raw skin. Then I shakily laughed it off and hobbled upstairs to put it under cold water. Honestly, that's the worst part of the burn, the cold water afterward. I never keep it under for as long as I should. Heather and her mum tried to convince me to put some stuff on it, but I'm too tough for that shit, so I sucked it up and politely declined. Because if I'm anything, it's all man, baby.

If you have never listened to Mother Mother, I strongly suggest you do so. Right now. They remind me a lot of The New Pornographers, actually, which is another great Vancouver-based band that my high school English teacher told me about. So all you guys better listen to them, because music is cool, and Vancouver is cool, so bands from Vancouver are obviously double cool.

Anywho, it's pretty late for someone who has to be getting up at 6:30, so I suppose I should get going now. However, here are two Things That Suck:

-I'm suddenly hungry, but I already brushed my teeth, and have to go to bed.
-Wearing socks and shoes with my burned foot tomorrow is going to be suuuuuch a bitch.

Hm. I think I might make that a regular thing.

Saturday, November 6, 2010

Nothing, Nothing, and I Need Some New Material

Still haven't tried writing anything for that website. I think I'm scared. Wait, I don't think I'm scared, I KNOW I'm scared. I just wish I could think of something to write that fits their criteria of being informative. I really don't think I know anything worth knowing. I know webcomics, I know writing, I know books and cooking. To quote Charlie Brown: "AUUUGH"

I have a feeling I'm going to end up not signing up for those Italian classes at VCC. Why? Because I'm a huge pussy. Whine whine bitch bitch.

I'm going to go and get the New Vegas problem sorted out tomorrow, so hopefully I'll have that back by the end of the day so I don't have to think about anything other than killing ghouls, raiders and Deathclaws.

On my way to work, I saw a house on fire! Well, I didn't really see the flames or anything, because the house must have been like 5 minutes away from me, but I could see this huge pillar of black smoke reaching up into the sky. I wanted to go and see so bad! That made me feel guilty though. Someone was losing their home and maybe all their possessions, or worse, their life, and I wanted to go oggle at their misfortune.

...I still wish I'd gone and looked though.

So I got these new boots the other day, and ohhhhhh my god, I am in love with them. They're made for -20 weather, and they are sooo warm, and sooo cool looking. They're water-proof, and they make me half an inch taller! It really doesn't get much better than that. So BRING IT, winter! I was worried when I heard about how terrible winter was going to be this year, but not anymore. I've got a warm jacket and the fucking sweetest boots ever, so I don't even care.
Haha, do you want to know what size my boots are? 11w. Yes. I have huge feet. It's pretty unfortunate actually, because they don't make very many stylish shoes for women with big feet, and I love shoes. So I have to buy the gigantic ones.

Why are my feet so big? It's a bit of a mystery, really. I was in for a routine checkup one day at my doctor's, and she commented that neck looked a little swollen. I felt slightly miffed at this, because I've always been sensitive about the fatness of my neck. Then she asked what size my feet were, and when I told her how big they were, she said that was odd, considering I'm only 5'5". So she thinks that since my feet are so big, I was actually supposed to be much taller than I am, but a possible defective thyroid squashed all hope of Giant Lisa from ever becoming a reality. Wow, riveting stuff here! What will I think of next? Maybe I'll talk about how small my hands are (you know what they say about people who have small hands... They make terrible piano players), or the last time I got my hair cut! Whoooowhee, fuckin' party up in here.

Also, as I was googling exactly what a thyroid is, I came upon the word 'goiter', which I'd heard before but never really knew that much about it, so I looked at a picture. I warn you, don't do it. Now I'm terrified of goiters.

ALSO, as I wrote 'googling' up there, a read line appeared under it, indicating that it is not a word. Why haven't they just made it a word yet?

In My Wildest Dreams

I was reading in the newspaper that something like 51% or 57% of Canadian women prefer catching up on their sleep on the weekends than sex. Honestly, I can totally believe that. Not that sex isn't swell, but I LOVE sleeping. I know some people have trouble getting to sleep and then staying asleep, but not me. Once I'm out, I'm out, and then it's off to my insane dreams.

Now, I know I talk about my dreams a lot, but that's only because they are the best. I know people like my sister who have the most boring dreams. She told me that once she had an entire dream where all she did was tie her shoes.

My dreams tie in to previous dreams. I can have dreams on different nights, hell, from different years, and somehow that first dream will have some meaning in the second one. Like, in Dream A, someone will mention something, like a phrase, or tell a story, and then months later, in Dream B, I'll remember it. It's kind of like I'm two different people: Dream Me, and Real Me.

Recently, I've been experiencing this really cool thing that used to happen to me a lot when I was a kid. I would be sleeping, and then just wake up for some reason. Not wanting the dream to be over, I would lay back down and let myself fall asleep again, and then pop right back into the dream, pretty much from the exact spot that I left off at. It's so great. Today I did it about 3 times.

My dreams are mostly always borderline-nightmares. We were in this strange warehouse, and Max was there, and a few other people, and we were... planning something. But something didn't want us to carry out our plans, so every time we started talking about it, this fog would come pressing in, and these... standing corpses would appear. I didn't think of them as zombies, but they were aware of us, and would stare. They were rotting and had worms and bugs crawling out of them, and they were covered in dirt. They didn't walk, but kind of floated, and would get way too close to you, like right in your face and just stare. Everyone else would just ignore them, but I was terrified. I would cling to Max,close my eyes and feel sick. I just wanted to run, and to wake up actually. It was awful.

There was also something about running around on a mountain I'd been to in my dreams before. And... damn, I really can't remember anymore.

Anywho, it's time I be getting ready for work. Peace.

One More Thing...

New Vegas is dead.

If I Were An Animal

If I was an animal, what kind of animal would I be? I always want to pick something beautiful and different, something bold. I always wanted to be a bird, for the freedom that they symbolize and the patterns of their feathers.

I would generally say that if I was an animal, I would be a dog. But dogs run in packs and desire the company of others, when I really do not. Then I would say I was a cat, but cats are too aloof, and I never really considered myself a cat-person. My Chinese horoscope tells me that I am a Horse, but I don't feel like I would be a horse if someone waved a wand and turned me into an animal. I want to be something smaller than a horse.

I would want to be a parrot. I want to be colourful and talkative and exotic.

Man, I don't know where I'm going with this. I think I'm just trying to get my creative juices flowing again.

Thursday, November 4, 2010

New Vegas and The Walking Dead

Hahaha, just listening to come Linkin Park and remembering what an angsty little r-tard I was.

Doing a lot of thinking lately, about what I really want to do. I want to be able to make a decision and then start moving forward in the right direction. I'm leaning towards something, but I don't want to say anything about it in case I jinx it. You think I'm being silly, but I need all the luck I can get. This is something that deeply bothers me. But I do plan on going to VCC in January for Italian classes, so that will at least give me something to do. I'm excited to learn Italian! Then I can converse with my father in the mother-tongue.

I know a couple of people who are bilingual, but when I say "Ooh, say something!" they won't! Carol knows Mandarin, and Amina knows some Arabic, but they won't indulge my curiosity! "Nooo it sounds so weird when I say it! My accent isn't good/I can't speak it that well" Dude, like I'm going to know the difference? Man, when I know Italian, I'm never going to shut the fuck up. But maybe that's more me being a show-off douchebag than trying to culturally expose those around me.

In other news, I bought Fallout: New Vegas, and it is consuming me. All day I think about it. At night, I dream about it. I just want to stay home and play. Sometimes, I honestly forget that the game and I are seperate things; I get so caught up in playing that I feel like my character is me, and it's me out there fighting Deathclaws and Cazadors and Raiders.
Also, this is the first game that I've ever started playing immediately after it was released. It's kind of interesting. Like, with games like Fable II, Left 4 Dead and Fallout 3, I got into them long after they'd been released. It was easier, because when I was stuck, or had a question, I could turn to the multitude of forums, Wiki pages and GameFAQS available from those who had already mastered my recent obsession. But with New Vegas, I'm part of the first wave of people discovering new territory, features, hacks and glitches. It's very exciting!

All in all, they haven't changed much from Fallout 3. The graphics look the same, and all the basics are the same. The only thing that bothers me is that items like food and water don't restore health the same way. In the older games, if you were low on health you could drink some water (Dirty or Purified) or eat some food (Iguana-on-a-stick, Mole Rat Meat or Mirelurk Cakes) and you would gain more health. In New Vegas, you can still eat food and gain health... but only for a couple of seconds. Kind of lame, but it does make you more diligent in keeping out of harm's way.

I'm sure I will talk much, much more about New Vegas.

So, on Halloween, I stayed and watched The Walking Dead premier. I only have one thing to say:

REALLY not impressed.

...Okay, I have a few more things to say.

What the FUCK, guys. The Walking Dead is a fantastic comic series, and I should have known that it was too good to be true that they were going to make it into a good TV show. For one thing, they changed just about everything except the basic storyline. Rick gets shot in gunfight, Rick wakes up in hospital, Rick helps dude and his kid, Rick finds horse and goes to Atlanta, Rick's horse get's disembowled. That stuff was the same. But they changed the way he went about all of those things. Instead, Morgan has a gun before Rick takes him to the police station. Morgan had a wife who was zombified and it still hanging around, traumatizing him and his son Duane. Rick walks what seems like half a mile into a park to put a zombie out of it's misery, which was supposed to be immobile. Rick's wife, Laurie, and the other survivors happen to hear Rick talking on his police radio before he meets up with them, and are unaware that it is him. Rick hides from the hordes of zombies in Atlanta in an abandoned (well, almost abandoned) tank.


The story was FINE the way it was. Much, much better, in fact. Now, if you haven't read the comics, it's a decent show. But it's hard to read something so great and then be exposed to something that is so, so shitty in contrast. Also, they made Rick into a total pussy in the show. Comic Rick is so much more of a pimp than TV Rick. TV Rick curled up in the fetal position and cried disconcertingly on the floor when he came home to find his family gone. Comic Rick came, saw, and then went to fucking do something about it.

TV Rick better buck the fuck up, because he has a lot of messed up shit he's going to have to deal with.

Well, that's the end of my nerd rant, and now it's time for sleeps. I'm going to go buy winter clothes with Max tomorrow (today?) and then he's going to help me sort out my room. It has become a bit of an unholy mess.

Monday, November 1, 2010


I'm self-medicating with memes,
letting trollface take my thoughts away.
"Log in, tune out" is my motto,
shooting raiders in Fallout and shooting the breeze in my blog,
letting less important things occupy my mind,
while a mound of to-do's and responsibilities rack up.
But I'd rather not pay attention to those,
because Bioshock is more beautiful to me than a BA.
Webcomics everyday keep my woes far away,
oggling Oglaf and grinning with Gunnerkrigg Court.
My 360 offers an obsessive salvation;
Even now I can feel the controller come to life in my hands,
as my crosshairs find their target and... BOOM! Headshot!