The following entry shall be presented in dialogue form, because I can't think of any other way for it to work.
Greg: I had a weird dream last night....
Morpheus: The kind where you couldn't tell if you were really awake?
Greg: Well, actually, yes!
Morpheus: Yeees....
Greg: Yeah, my mom told me to wake up, and so I went to turn on the shower, and just as it started, my mom yelled at me again, and I realized that I hadn't actually gotten up.... But this is all besides the point.
Morpheus: Do you want to know What It Is?
Greg: Shut up, I'm getting to it. Anyway, it has to do with me in the Matrix. It sort of bounces around a lot, but here's the gist of it. It starts off with the scene from Revolutions of where Neo is running down the street with all the Smiths lining the sidewalks, and in my version, one or two of them are fighting us. Yes, us. Accompanying Neo are both Trinity (yeah, she's supposed to be dead, but shut up, my story is different), and myself. I'm not exactly sure who I am...
Morpheus: You are the One, Greg.
Greg: Riight... No, my character seems to be one of those extra thug guys, or something. Just an extra crewer on the Nebuchanezzer or something. He seemed to remind me of Dozer, I guess, though he was in the Matrix, so who he was, I dunno. One thing is for sure, though. He kicked ass. After running down the street for a while, we split up, and my character ended up in a mall, where the shoppers were panicking as Smith went around and absorbed other people or whatever. My guy managed to go around and escape, with the mutual help of a young girl who I think was the renegade program Neo met in the beginning. Mutual help, because we both helped each other escape. It was exciting. I managed to get her to safety... I think. My character was soon caught by one of the Smith's, who, after a brief struggle, in which he informed me that my valiant attempts to stop him wouldn't work because he felt no pain. One look at his heavily battled face proved this. Eventually, Smith himself made a revelation: he could not assimilate me through FORCE, he had to relax himself. Whatever It meant, I got killed, or something.
Morpheus: I don't BELIEVE that.
Greg: Whatever. Okay, so then my dream switches back to Neo's adventure. Neo is standing at the end of the street, at the top of a stairway over some kind of room... I'll explain that later. Anyway, up come Morpheus, Trinity, and Sereph (I guess, though I know Niobe joined them at one point), running from a crowd of Smiths chasing them, who immediately began firing at Neo. Or at least, that's what I thought until I realized they were really shooting into the crowd of Smiths BEHIND Neo. I got a real cool show of Neo jumping through all the gun shots. It was sweet. Though for some reason, it was an oddly CGI effect for something my brain would do. I mean, don't you think it could be a little more.. real?
Morpheus: What IS real? How do you DEFINE real?
Greg: True enough. So anyway, being surrounded by hundreds of Smiths doesn't bode well for our heroes. Luckily, rather than being killed, they are taken captive. I've decided that even though my guy is technically dead, he's really just had his body taken over. Therefore, I can still see things, even though my perspective is still controlled by the Smith in my head or whatever. Anyway, so then I see the room, and guess what I saw.
Morpheus: MACHINES!!
Greg: Well, yeah, eventually. But to begin with, I started looking down. And my brain told me that the room was full of Smiths, because this was their centralized gathering area. But the thing my eyes saw were the hot chicks the Smiths have surrounded themselves with. Where they came from, I'm not sure. I guess some chicks just like power, and Smith was letting his humanity assert itself or something. But anyway, they aren't important. What I saw next was some sort of floating machine things that came out and attacked all of the surviving humans, and turned most of them to sentinels, some how. This was apparently the way most of them were created. Don't worry, the band of heroes were unharmed, except for Trinity, who was used to demonstrate the machines' point to all this. The machine spokesperson started its demonstration with a story of how one sentinel managed to, despite being powered down, resist termination and moved itself. He cited this as proof that the human being within the sentinel was alive and had some form of control over their metallic prisons. He instructed the newly created sentinels to try and replicate this. And of course, Trinity did it. She was at the front of the line to move, and was even moving sooner than the machines expected, which nearly got them to throw her out. She survived, and ended up even returning to HUMAN state! (Yeah, I guess this doesn't really make any sense). Anyway, for some reason this lead to the idea that humans could now be cloned. The machines went off about how they could therefore be used for helping to supplement their power levels, or to be used in mining shafts. Of course, some of our humans were arguing that they could also be used to clone enhancements for the existing humans, and the machines seemed to be sort of patronizing the now obsolete models at this point. That was about when the dream started to go fuzzy. One of the sentinels turned into Cole, from PVPonline.com, and he was recruited by the Smiths to be sort of a bounty hunter, or something. He picked a really cool nickname, but for the life of me, I can't think of what it was. Oh well. That's it for now.
Morpheus: Do you want the red pill now?
Greg: No, shut up.
28.1.04
Nother Magic Idea
Yeah, so if you're not into Magic, skip down and read my story or something.
Anyway, time for another Magic article. Why? I dunno, someone wants it. Oh well. This time, no long drawn out AIM chats, just straight to the bulk. While the last idea (Words of Leveling) was interesting, it is a totally rare-heavy deck, and, lets be realistic, probably wasn't that good. My next deck I will actually BUILD will be your standard Affinity deck. With my usual tweaks, of course. I may be willing to get a deck idea from the internet, but I won't down right NETDECK.
Anyway, Affinity.dec is based off of casting artifacts for cheaper due tue the ability, umm, affinity. But, yeah, casting Frogmites and Myr Enforcers for free, as well as being able to cast GIGANTIC Broodstars for a mere UU, is most definitely a powerful ability. So much so, that an entire deck can be made off of it. Lets see here.....
4x Frogmite
4x Myr Enforcer
3x Broodstar
4x Thoughtcast
4x Thirst for Knowledge
3x Lightning Greave
2x Whispersilk Cloak
4x Assert Authority
2x Override
2x Darksteel Brute
4x Pyrite Spellbomb
4x Chrome Mox
4x Glimmervoid
4x Blinkmoth Nexus
4x Darksteel Citadel
4x Seat of the Synod
4x Island
Ugh... Too tired to explain card choices, maybe later, or if you ask me on AIM. Cya.
Anyway, time for another Magic article. Why? I dunno, someone wants it. Oh well. This time, no long drawn out AIM chats, just straight to the bulk. While the last idea (Words of Leveling) was interesting, it is a totally rare-heavy deck, and, lets be realistic, probably wasn't that good. My next deck I will actually BUILD will be your standard Affinity deck. With my usual tweaks, of course. I may be willing to get a deck idea from the internet, but I won't down right NETDECK.
Anyway, Affinity.dec is based off of casting artifacts for cheaper due tue the ability, umm, affinity. But, yeah, casting Frogmites and Myr Enforcers for free, as well as being able to cast GIGANTIC Broodstars for a mere UU, is most definitely a powerful ability. So much so, that an entire deck can be made off of it. Lets see here.....
4x Frogmite
4x Myr Enforcer
3x Broodstar
4x Thoughtcast
4x Thirst for Knowledge
3x Lightning Greave
2x Whispersilk Cloak
4x Assert Authority
2x Override
2x Darksteel Brute
4x Pyrite Spellbomb
4x Chrome Mox
4x Glimmervoid
4x Blinkmoth Nexus
4x Darksteel Citadel
4x Seat of the Synod
4x Island
Ugh... Too tired to explain card choices, maybe later, or if you ask me on AIM. Cya.
By Popular Demand...
Here it is, folks, episode two of Greg's great adventures. Enjoy
Greg Levine's
The Life And Times of John Smith
By Greg Levine and Matt Hill
Bang!
John Smith was shot by a dark-looking man. The shot did two things. First, it made John drop his coffee cup, which fell to the ground and spilled John’s mocha blend all over the place. Second, it very effectively ended John's life. However, he wasn't very important, so we won't mention him again, except to say his only mistake was to get in the dark-looking man's way.
As an aside, I'd just like to say, never get in a dark man's way. By dark man, I'm not referring to the color of his skin. I mean that if some guy is standing in shadows, and talking all creepily, and holding a gun (especially an automatic rifle), don't get in his way.
His evil deed done, the dark man turned from the corpse, and looked through binoculars at the cave entrance just over the hill.
Then the theme song began.
Greg Levine, P.I. was running. Not for president, or any other public office, although the thought had crossed his mind. No, today he was running for more pressing reasons. He was running from a large, heavy stone, or more accurately a boulder, whose name happened to be Matt. Being a boulder, Matt was rather short on words, and was rather content to chase Greg through the tunnels of this ancient temple in Greenland, a temple of destruction, but not quite doom. Matt didn't know exactly why he was chasing Greg. Being a boulder, Matt wasn't on the gifted side when it came to thinking, but he could roll like there was no tomorrow, and if there was a tomorrow, he would roll right through it.
Greg, on the other hand, did have some idea as to why Matt was chasing him. He was pretty sure it had nothing to do with Ella, the beautiful blonde in a skimpy archaeologist’s outfit, whom Greg held with his left hand. No, it was probably more closely related to the plush bear in his right hand. The bear was an ancient relic, and Greg had disturbed its rest when he stole it. Those kinds of things are usually punished with boulders chasing you.
Greg quickly wondered why the theme song still hadn't stopped, but had no time to waste as he jumped over a log in his path. The boulder, rather rudely, rolled right through said log. This was not a high point in the log's day. The log was now thoroughly mad, and ready to sit there and trip the next person who walked by. But we won't bother to talk about it, because Greg, Ella, Matt, and the plush bear, were running, or rolling, or being carried, as the case may be, in the opposite direction of the log.
Greg had to get away from this large boulder before they made a personal, physical meeting, one which would have been at least a little unpleasant for Greg. Luckily, a fork appeared in the road ahead. Knowing that boulders rarely travel uphill, Greg ran uphill. The boulder, persistent in its chasing, followed him. Matt refused to obey any laws on principle, and wasn't about to start paying attention to the laws of gravity.
The boulder was then quite surprised to find that some how, it had been tricked!
Greg wasn't in the uphill tunnel at all. Being of a slower wit than movement, the boulder did not realize this until it had rolled out of a sheer cliff face, and fallen to its near certain demise.
Greg also had no idea what he was doing in the downhill tunnel, but he was relieved that there wasn't a boulder chasing him, and also glad the theme song had finally ended. Greg figured that plot holes beat death any day. So, relieved and a little tired, he and Ella slowed to a nice, romantic, and very sensual, walk towards the exit.
Greg and Ella exited the cave, and saw the lush beauty of Greenland, or the lack thereof. For some unexplained reason, Greg fell into another plot hole, but quickly reappeared. He was then greeted by an overjoyed Dr. Leo. He was excited about what Greg had in his hand. While Ella did do her share of exciting Leo, now his attention was focused on the plush bear Greg was carrying.
"Why," he exclaimed, "You've recovered the Stuffed Polar Bear of the Ages! Finally, I can have a purpose to my life!"
But Greg was reluctant to give him his prize. "Where's my money?" he asked.
Just then, a dark man the one who killed John Smith earlier, floated over to them. The dark man didn't like to obey the laws, much less the law of gravity. Using one of those grabber-claw children's toys, the dark man reached over and stole the bag. This shocked everyone, because those grabbers aren't more than four feet long at most, and the man wasn't more than two yards away. Once he had childishly stolen the ancient children's plaything with a more modern child's plaything, the man politely returned the grabber to the more modern child he had borrowed it from. Then he cackled loudly. The child slowly backed away, while the other three just stared in consternation.
Greg spoke first. "I still get paid," he told Dr. Leo.
"The bear's right over there!" Leo said, while point at the dark man no more than ten feet from him. "Just grab it back!"
"Can't," said Greg. "It's his now". Greg knew there was nothing he could do, thanks to an obscure Greenlandian law. The law stated that anyone over the age of twenty-one, who could steal anything with a child's plaything, such as the grabber, was granted immediate ownership of the item he stole, both legally and philosophically. The law was based on the principle that anyone who managed to do this was obviously the total superior of whoever he stole from, and therefore the rightful owner of whatever he stole.
In any case, Greg couldn't argue with legal philosophy. He told Leo as much, adding, "at least, not on an empty wallet." Leo begrudgingly wrote out a check, but by the time Greg was paid, the dark man was gone. This was mostly because Greg had insisted on cashing the check before he gave chase. Now two days later, Dr. Leo was frustrated beyond belief.
"Now we'll never catch the guy," he griped.
But Greg knew just the place to look.
"East Windsor, NJ," Greg announced as he, Ella, and Dr. Leo got off the bus. "Good to be home"
In the rain Greg and Leo pulled out umbrellas, but not until after Greg's skillful delay, which caused Ella's white blouse and skirt to become totally drenched. Of all the skills Greg had acquired over his private investigation career, this was one that he was especially fond of. His delay complete, Greg politely offered his umbrella to the wet clothes around breasts which were attached to Ella, saying, "Here you go, wet clothes... er, breasts... er, Ella." Before she could say anything, though, Greg flashed Ella his quick grin, and everything was smoothed over.
Dr. Leo wasn't quite the ladies man that Greg was. Nearly the opposite, in fact.
"Err... anyway," said an uncomfortable Leo, "hadn't we better fondle... er, phone the police?"
Ella slapped him.
A few minutes later, the trio had arrived at Greg's office, accompanied by Captain Dan, the chief of police. Greg asked him if anything unusual had occurred while he was away.
"Yes," Dan replied dryly. "You weren't here. Seriously, though, one thing still still puzzles me. What makes you think the bear is in East Windsor?"
"Follow my logic," Greg began. "When looking for something, it’s always in the last place you look. The last place I would try and hide the bear from me would be here, since I live here. So we're checking first, and going from there." The group genuinely accepted his logic. You should too.
"Okay, since you put it that way," said Dan, utterly convinced, "There was one glaring detail. This giant boulder rolled over the factory district the other day. Witnesses say it was humming what sounded like a theme song."
"Yep, this is the last place I expected to find Matt," said Ella, who hadn't said anything for a while, and was beginning to feel left out.
"Who?" asked Dan and Leo as one.
"Never mind," said Greg. "You had to be there."
"Okay," asked Leo, "where should we look first?"
"GREG'S PANTS!" Ella blurted enthusiastically.
"Yeah, that's the last place I'd expect to find the teddy bear," Greg said. "If you'll excuse us..."
Dan nodded, and led a confused Dr. Leo out to the police station. They closed the door just before Greg's bearless pants collided with it.
Greg and Ella walked into the police station four hours later, each wearing the other's underwear. You could tell from their expressions that Greg wasn't used to wearing a thong, and Ella's skin-tight jeans felt a tad, well, tight on her bare skin. Dan and Leo pretended not to notice.
"I guess you didn't find the bear," said Dan.
Leo, who was a little slow, said "Obviously."
"Not for lack of trying," added Ella.
Greg took a moment to relax in the glory of superfluous sex before falling into another plot hole. He and Dan appeared, in a warehouse, guns drawn, behind some plain wooden crates. Leo was nowhere to be seen, but Ella was tied to a chair, wearing a quasi-futuristic, yet entirely sexy prisoner outfit. She was seated in the center of the room, with the crates in a circle around her. Next to her was a table of stuffed animals. It was an impressive collection, with specimen including the Polar Bear of the Ages to the Great Duck of Time. The hard to find collection of McDonald's Beanie Babies were present, as was Greg's childhood teddy bear, Hebert (That's the French, pronounced A-Bear). Greg had named him as a child. When asked what to call the bear, Greg answered, with a nearly perfect French accent, "Hebert." Some claimed he had meant "A bear," because that's what it was, but really, Greg was just a natural, cunning linguist.
Greg was rudely interrupted from his trip down memory lane by a poke from Captain Dan. Greg looked up to see a dark man, floating, the same one he had seen earlier.
"Greetings, gentlemen," he said, apparently to Greg and Dan. "You needn't hide." He hit a button on the machine all the stuffed animals were resting on and the row of boxes suddenly vanished.
Surprised, Greg and Dan aimed their guns at the dark man. "Now, now, it's not polite to point," said the man, and with another flick of a switch, their guns had vanished. In another flick, Greg and Dan were tied to chairs.
"How are you doing this?!" asked Greg, who was feeling like Dr. Leo usually did: perplexed and angry.
The dark man stood and began his story: "My name is Dr. Oh-my-god-im-dying-get-the-doctor. I was named with my father's dying breath. I'm not upset, though; in fact, the fact that his last word was 'doctor' lead me to my present vocation. The fact that he died in a hospital without anyone trying to save him inspired me to hate mankind. That's why I created... The Plot Device!"
Dr. Oh-my-god-im-dying-get-the-doctor filled the silent pause by turning a switch causing both applause and lightning, a great effect. He continued. "With it, I can alter the very fabric of space and time! It's powered by the energies of these stuffed animals: the time bending power of the duck; the life altering power of the polar bear; the immense wallet-draining power of the beanie babies; and of your bear, Greg, well, Hebert possesses some of your, how shall I say, essence."
"Yeah, I may have spilled some of my personal cologne on it." Essence of Greg was available at JCPenney's.
"Don't mock me!" The doctor triggered more lightning, and said "Do you realize how long it took me to build this machine?"
"Well," Greg guessed, "apart from the trip to Greenland, and two days to actually build the machine, I'd say about two hours on eBay."
"Wrong!" shouted the doctor. "It was three years!!"
"Oh."
"Now you shall pay for your insolence, as all humanity shall pay!" The doctor flicked a switch, and suddenly the room had been replaced with a giant tank filled with robot sharks. Greg, Dan, and Ella were suspended above the tank, by a strand of licorice of all things. "When I flick this switch, the licorice will be eaten by a monkey, and you shall fall to your doom. First, though, I'd like to tell you all my evil plan..."
While the doctor revealed the details of his plan, Greg's mind was racing. It went something like this: "Breasts we've sex got ass to sex get tits out Ella of Hebert (What's that doing there?) here pussy... A-hah!"
The Plot Device had been affecting the subspace plot lines in the surrounding area. In a matter of hours, the plot lines of the whole planet would be ruined. One of these ruined plot lines allowed Greg to understand this, and how they could escape. While the doctor continued to explain his plan, Greg removed Ella's thong from his pants, again through altered plot lines. Like a rubber band, it shot toward the machine...
And missed.
"Damn," Greg thought. "Well, lets try this again." With ultra-skilled hands, Greg was able to remove Ella's bra in just three seconds. The one part of the maneuver he hadn't learned, though, was how to do it without removing her shirt. So the topless Ella, along with a flabbergasted Dan, watched as Greg fired the elastic brassier at the Plot Device.
With one strike, three things happened.
First, the pool and sharks disappeared.
Second, the heroic, and sometimes topless, trio, were safe on the ground.
Third, the theme song to this story began playing. It was this third thing that finally distracted Dr. Oh-my-god-im-dying-get-the-doctor, but not in time for him to move out of Matt's way. Matt then rolled, a little more satisfied, over to Greg and his companions.
"Thanks, Matt," said Greg. Ella and Dan were too struck by the boulder's outstanding good looks (even for a boulder, I mean he was really in shape: round) and his impeccable sense of timing.
"Don't mention it," said Matt. He rolled away, still humming to himself. "I just wanna keep rolling, rolling, rolling BAAA."
"Well, that was odd," said Dan.
"Yeah," said Ella, "oddly arousing." She had a look about her, not to mention her toplessness, that made Greg agree.
"Work before pleasure, my dear," Greg said, "but there will be pleasure. First, we have to set everything back to normal." A few clicks accomplished this. "Second, Dan, a gift for you." A few more clicks, and Dan's lovely wife appeared, ready to keep him company during the coming celebration. "And finally, I'll make sure this never does anyone any harm again." A few clicks sent the plot device, and all its damaging plot holes, to a random point in space. Then Greg's group, alone in the warehouse, began celebrating...
Life was emerging; sentient life. The microbial Spartithrax, as they had deemed themselves fifteen seconds ago, were pleased to see that all their sentience had finally paid off, in the form of the plot device. Obviously the product of Spartithrax-kind’s hard work and inginuity, the device represented the accomplishments of minutes of the species hour-long existence. The overjoyed microbes began flicking what switches their tiny single-celled bodies could, and they had just formed multi-celled tissues in an effort to better use their new device, when music started.
While the majority believed it to be glorious music of triumph, the more musically inclined Spartithraxians had decided it seemed more like a theme song. They had little time to debate, however, as they were quickly crushed by an even more satisfied Matt, who somehow managed to roll even in the void of space. Matt, having no use for a plot device, paid it no mind as he destroyed it, and shouted triumphantly, "I keep rolling, rolling, rolling."
The End
Greg Levine's
The Life And Times of John Smith
By Greg Levine and Matt Hill
Bang!
John Smith was shot by a dark-looking man. The shot did two things. First, it made John drop his coffee cup, which fell to the ground and spilled John’s mocha blend all over the place. Second, it very effectively ended John's life. However, he wasn't very important, so we won't mention him again, except to say his only mistake was to get in the dark-looking man's way.
As an aside, I'd just like to say, never get in a dark man's way. By dark man, I'm not referring to the color of his skin. I mean that if some guy is standing in shadows, and talking all creepily, and holding a gun (especially an automatic rifle), don't get in his way.
His evil deed done, the dark man turned from the corpse, and looked through binoculars at the cave entrance just over the hill.
Then the theme song began.
Greg Levine, P.I. was running. Not for president, or any other public office, although the thought had crossed his mind. No, today he was running for more pressing reasons. He was running from a large, heavy stone, or more accurately a boulder, whose name happened to be Matt. Being a boulder, Matt was rather short on words, and was rather content to chase Greg through the tunnels of this ancient temple in Greenland, a temple of destruction, but not quite doom. Matt didn't know exactly why he was chasing Greg. Being a boulder, Matt wasn't on the gifted side when it came to thinking, but he could roll like there was no tomorrow, and if there was a tomorrow, he would roll right through it.
Greg, on the other hand, did have some idea as to why Matt was chasing him. He was pretty sure it had nothing to do with Ella, the beautiful blonde in a skimpy archaeologist’s outfit, whom Greg held with his left hand. No, it was probably more closely related to the plush bear in his right hand. The bear was an ancient relic, and Greg had disturbed its rest when he stole it. Those kinds of things are usually punished with boulders chasing you.
Greg quickly wondered why the theme song still hadn't stopped, but had no time to waste as he jumped over a log in his path. The boulder, rather rudely, rolled right through said log. This was not a high point in the log's day. The log was now thoroughly mad, and ready to sit there and trip the next person who walked by. But we won't bother to talk about it, because Greg, Ella, Matt, and the plush bear, were running, or rolling, or being carried, as the case may be, in the opposite direction of the log.
Greg had to get away from this large boulder before they made a personal, physical meeting, one which would have been at least a little unpleasant for Greg. Luckily, a fork appeared in the road ahead. Knowing that boulders rarely travel uphill, Greg ran uphill. The boulder, persistent in its chasing, followed him. Matt refused to obey any laws on principle, and wasn't about to start paying attention to the laws of gravity.
The boulder was then quite surprised to find that some how, it had been tricked!
Greg wasn't in the uphill tunnel at all. Being of a slower wit than movement, the boulder did not realize this until it had rolled out of a sheer cliff face, and fallen to its near certain demise.
Greg also had no idea what he was doing in the downhill tunnel, but he was relieved that there wasn't a boulder chasing him, and also glad the theme song had finally ended. Greg figured that plot holes beat death any day. So, relieved and a little tired, he and Ella slowed to a nice, romantic, and very sensual, walk towards the exit.
Greg and Ella exited the cave, and saw the lush beauty of Greenland, or the lack thereof. For some unexplained reason, Greg fell into another plot hole, but quickly reappeared. He was then greeted by an overjoyed Dr. Leo. He was excited about what Greg had in his hand. While Ella did do her share of exciting Leo, now his attention was focused on the plush bear Greg was carrying.
"Why," he exclaimed, "You've recovered the Stuffed Polar Bear of the Ages! Finally, I can have a purpose to my life!"
But Greg was reluctant to give him his prize. "Where's my money?" he asked.
Just then, a dark man the one who killed John Smith earlier, floated over to them. The dark man didn't like to obey the laws, much less the law of gravity. Using one of those grabber-claw children's toys, the dark man reached over and stole the bag. This shocked everyone, because those grabbers aren't more than four feet long at most, and the man wasn't more than two yards away. Once he had childishly stolen the ancient children's plaything with a more modern child's plaything, the man politely returned the grabber to the more modern child he had borrowed it from. Then he cackled loudly. The child slowly backed away, while the other three just stared in consternation.
Greg spoke first. "I still get paid," he told Dr. Leo.
"The bear's right over there!" Leo said, while point at the dark man no more than ten feet from him. "Just grab it back!"
"Can't," said Greg. "It's his now". Greg knew there was nothing he could do, thanks to an obscure Greenlandian law. The law stated that anyone over the age of twenty-one, who could steal anything with a child's plaything, such as the grabber, was granted immediate ownership of the item he stole, both legally and philosophically. The law was based on the principle that anyone who managed to do this was obviously the total superior of whoever he stole from, and therefore the rightful owner of whatever he stole.
In any case, Greg couldn't argue with legal philosophy. He told Leo as much, adding, "at least, not on an empty wallet." Leo begrudgingly wrote out a check, but by the time Greg was paid, the dark man was gone. This was mostly because Greg had insisted on cashing the check before he gave chase. Now two days later, Dr. Leo was frustrated beyond belief.
"Now we'll never catch the guy," he griped.
But Greg knew just the place to look.
"East Windsor, NJ," Greg announced as he, Ella, and Dr. Leo got off the bus. "Good to be home"
In the rain Greg and Leo pulled out umbrellas, but not until after Greg's skillful delay, which caused Ella's white blouse and skirt to become totally drenched. Of all the skills Greg had acquired over his private investigation career, this was one that he was especially fond of. His delay complete, Greg politely offered his umbrella to the wet clothes around breasts which were attached to Ella, saying, "Here you go, wet clothes... er, breasts... er, Ella." Before she could say anything, though, Greg flashed Ella his quick grin, and everything was smoothed over.
Dr. Leo wasn't quite the ladies man that Greg was. Nearly the opposite, in fact.
"Err... anyway," said an uncomfortable Leo, "hadn't we better fondle... er, phone the police?"
Ella slapped him.
A few minutes later, the trio had arrived at Greg's office, accompanied by Captain Dan, the chief of police. Greg asked him if anything unusual had occurred while he was away.
"Yes," Dan replied dryly. "You weren't here. Seriously, though, one thing still still puzzles me. What makes you think the bear is in East Windsor?"
"Follow my logic," Greg began. "When looking for something, it’s always in the last place you look. The last place I would try and hide the bear from me would be here, since I live here. So we're checking first, and going from there." The group genuinely accepted his logic. You should too.
"Okay, since you put it that way," said Dan, utterly convinced, "There was one glaring detail. This giant boulder rolled over the factory district the other day. Witnesses say it was humming what sounded like a theme song."
"Yep, this is the last place I expected to find Matt," said Ella, who hadn't said anything for a while, and was beginning to feel left out.
"Who?" asked Dan and Leo as one.
"Never mind," said Greg. "You had to be there."
"Okay," asked Leo, "where should we look first?"
"GREG'S PANTS!" Ella blurted enthusiastically.
"Yeah, that's the last place I'd expect to find the teddy bear," Greg said. "If you'll excuse us..."
Dan nodded, and led a confused Dr. Leo out to the police station. They closed the door just before Greg's bearless pants collided with it.
Greg and Ella walked into the police station four hours later, each wearing the other's underwear. You could tell from their expressions that Greg wasn't used to wearing a thong, and Ella's skin-tight jeans felt a tad, well, tight on her bare skin. Dan and Leo pretended not to notice.
"I guess you didn't find the bear," said Dan.
Leo, who was a little slow, said "Obviously."
"Not for lack of trying," added Ella.
Greg took a moment to relax in the glory of superfluous sex before falling into another plot hole. He and Dan appeared, in a warehouse, guns drawn, behind some plain wooden crates. Leo was nowhere to be seen, but Ella was tied to a chair, wearing a quasi-futuristic, yet entirely sexy prisoner outfit. She was seated in the center of the room, with the crates in a circle around her. Next to her was a table of stuffed animals. It was an impressive collection, with specimen including the Polar Bear of the Ages to the Great Duck of Time. The hard to find collection of McDonald's Beanie Babies were present, as was Greg's childhood teddy bear, Hebert (That's the French, pronounced A-Bear). Greg had named him as a child. When asked what to call the bear, Greg answered, with a nearly perfect French accent, "Hebert." Some claimed he had meant "A bear," because that's what it was, but really, Greg was just a natural, cunning linguist.
Greg was rudely interrupted from his trip down memory lane by a poke from Captain Dan. Greg looked up to see a dark man, floating, the same one he had seen earlier.
"Greetings, gentlemen," he said, apparently to Greg and Dan. "You needn't hide." He hit a button on the machine all the stuffed animals were resting on and the row of boxes suddenly vanished.
Surprised, Greg and Dan aimed their guns at the dark man. "Now, now, it's not polite to point," said the man, and with another flick of a switch, their guns had vanished. In another flick, Greg and Dan were tied to chairs.
"How are you doing this?!" asked Greg, who was feeling like Dr. Leo usually did: perplexed and angry.
The dark man stood and began his story: "My name is Dr. Oh-my-god-im-dying-get-the-doctor. I was named with my father's dying breath. I'm not upset, though; in fact, the fact that his last word was 'doctor' lead me to my present vocation. The fact that he died in a hospital without anyone trying to save him inspired me to hate mankind. That's why I created... The Plot Device!"
Dr. Oh-my-god-im-dying-get-the-doctor filled the silent pause by turning a switch causing both applause and lightning, a great effect. He continued. "With it, I can alter the very fabric of space and time! It's powered by the energies of these stuffed animals: the time bending power of the duck; the life altering power of the polar bear; the immense wallet-draining power of the beanie babies; and of your bear, Greg, well, Hebert possesses some of your, how shall I say, essence."
"Yeah, I may have spilled some of my personal cologne on it." Essence of Greg was available at JCPenney's.
"Don't mock me!" The doctor triggered more lightning, and said "Do you realize how long it took me to build this machine?"
"Well," Greg guessed, "apart from the trip to Greenland, and two days to actually build the machine, I'd say about two hours on eBay."
"Wrong!" shouted the doctor. "It was three years!!"
"Oh."
"Now you shall pay for your insolence, as all humanity shall pay!" The doctor flicked a switch, and suddenly the room had been replaced with a giant tank filled with robot sharks. Greg, Dan, and Ella were suspended above the tank, by a strand of licorice of all things. "When I flick this switch, the licorice will be eaten by a monkey, and you shall fall to your doom. First, though, I'd like to tell you all my evil plan..."
While the doctor revealed the details of his plan, Greg's mind was racing. It went something like this: "Breasts we've sex got ass to sex get tits out Ella of Hebert (What's that doing there?) here pussy... A-hah!"
The Plot Device had been affecting the subspace plot lines in the surrounding area. In a matter of hours, the plot lines of the whole planet would be ruined. One of these ruined plot lines allowed Greg to understand this, and how they could escape. While the doctor continued to explain his plan, Greg removed Ella's thong from his pants, again through altered plot lines. Like a rubber band, it shot toward the machine...
And missed.
"Damn," Greg thought. "Well, lets try this again." With ultra-skilled hands, Greg was able to remove Ella's bra in just three seconds. The one part of the maneuver he hadn't learned, though, was how to do it without removing her shirt. So the topless Ella, along with a flabbergasted Dan, watched as Greg fired the elastic brassier at the Plot Device.
With one strike, three things happened.
First, the pool and sharks disappeared.
Second, the heroic, and sometimes topless, trio, were safe on the ground.
Third, the theme song to this story began playing. It was this third thing that finally distracted Dr. Oh-my-god-im-dying-get-the-doctor, but not in time for him to move out of Matt's way. Matt then rolled, a little more satisfied, over to Greg and his companions.
"Thanks, Matt," said Greg. Ella and Dan were too struck by the boulder's outstanding good looks (even for a boulder, I mean he was really in shape: round) and his impeccable sense of timing.
"Don't mention it," said Matt. He rolled away, still humming to himself. "I just wanna keep rolling, rolling, rolling BAAA."
"Well, that was odd," said Dan.
"Yeah," said Ella, "oddly arousing." She had a look about her, not to mention her toplessness, that made Greg agree.
"Work before pleasure, my dear," Greg said, "but there will be pleasure. First, we have to set everything back to normal." A few clicks accomplished this. "Second, Dan, a gift for you." A few more clicks, and Dan's lovely wife appeared, ready to keep him company during the coming celebration. "And finally, I'll make sure this never does anyone any harm again." A few clicks sent the plot device, and all its damaging plot holes, to a random point in space. Then Greg's group, alone in the warehouse, began celebrating...
Life was emerging; sentient life. The microbial Spartithrax, as they had deemed themselves fifteen seconds ago, were pleased to see that all their sentience had finally paid off, in the form of the plot device. Obviously the product of Spartithrax-kind’s hard work and inginuity, the device represented the accomplishments of minutes of the species hour-long existence. The overjoyed microbes began flicking what switches their tiny single-celled bodies could, and they had just formed multi-celled tissues in an effort to better use their new device, when music started.
While the majority believed it to be glorious music of triumph, the more musically inclined Spartithraxians had decided it seemed more like a theme song. They had little time to debate, however, as they were quickly crushed by an even more satisfied Matt, who somehow managed to roll even in the void of space. Matt, having no use for a plot device, paid it no mind as he destroyed it, and shouted triumphantly, "I keep rolling, rolling, rolling."
The End
27.1.04
Good To Know There's Someone Out There That Understands... um.. "J00"
Wow, that's a long title, and no one probably gets, either. If you DO, good on ya. If you don't, well, it's the basis for this entry.
It's a play on the greeting from an online comic I read: Megatokyo. Yeah, its a terrible joke, probably not worth the effort, but guess what: I'M STUBBORN, so it stays. Anyway, the comic, which surprisingly enough, does not take place in Tokyo (though it does go on in Japan), is an American Manga, basically a U.S. version of Japanese style comics. Not simply in the artistic style, the way Pokemon looks like anime, but really doesn't count, but it truely captures the zany sort of atmosphere most Japanese comics have. Or so I've heard.
Okay, that last paragraph was basicaly a shameless plug that anyone could say, and realy sucked. But in my opinion, it really is totally awesome. Maybe one of these days, I'll try and get a real manga and compare them. But yeah, the story is one of two Americans who fly to Japan on a whim, and find themselves stranded there, without cash. One of them finds a job and goes through the usual crazy and odd relationship problems, while his friend, probably due to too many violent video games, goes off and fights zombies and other random things, as well as unleash what he sees as the "Queen of Evil"... it's highly complicated, but truley truley awesome. Go read it. Now.
EDIT @6: D'oh, I totally forgot to mention the reason I brought all this up in the first place. I bought the paperback editions of the comics, volumes one and two. At about 10 bucks, they are well worth it. Go get them NOW, too.
It's a play on the greeting from an online comic I read: Megatokyo. Yeah, its a terrible joke, probably not worth the effort, but guess what: I'M STUBBORN, so it stays. Anyway, the comic, which surprisingly enough, does not take place in Tokyo (though it does go on in Japan), is an American Manga, basically a U.S. version of Japanese style comics. Not simply in the artistic style, the way Pokemon looks like anime, but really doesn't count, but it truely captures the zany sort of atmosphere most Japanese comics have. Or so I've heard.
Okay, that last paragraph was basicaly a shameless plug that anyone could say, and realy sucked. But in my opinion, it really is totally awesome. Maybe one of these days, I'll try and get a real manga and compare them. But yeah, the story is one of two Americans who fly to Japan on a whim, and find themselves stranded there, without cash. One of them finds a job and goes through the usual crazy and odd relationship problems, while his friend, probably due to too many violent video games, goes off and fights zombies and other random things, as well as unleash what he sees as the "Queen of Evil"... it's highly complicated, but truley truley awesome. Go read it. Now.
EDIT @6: D'oh, I totally forgot to mention the reason I brought all this up in the first place. I bought the paperback editions of the comics, volumes one and two. At about 10 bucks, they are well worth it. Go get them NOW, too.
25.1.04
Pre-release Memories
Yesterday I had a blast at the Darksteel Pre-release. Aside from being half asleep on the hour and a half driving, I'd say it was a day well spent. Even the car rides were smooth, and enjoyable, thanks to my laptop. ^_^ But yeah, 25$ got me 3 packs of Darksteel, as well as a Mirrodin tournament pack, and a chance to win some more Darksteel. Didn't really win anything, though. u.u I did trade one green DS rare (Pulse of the Tangle, which, upon thinking of it, is really good in a green control deck) for a Broodstar (BROOOOOOOOODSTAAAAR!!!!!) so now I can make my affinity deck, instead of having two janky stupid things. And I traded a foil Glimmervoid for a non-foil one, as well as a Vedalken Archmage, so I can make my Words of Leveling (or whatever I called it) deck. *Checks...* Oh hey! I got it RIGHT! Heh. Anyway, yeah, that's all good.
A couple of side notes - Still no one has guessed the quote "I miss you, cupcake." I'm beginning to think none of you care about this. Oh well. Also I'm looking for an .mp3 of "Where In The World Is Carmen Sandiego?" by Rockapella. Oh, and story number two in my detective series is coming soon, so keep a look out for it. Alright, laters folks.
A couple of side notes - Still no one has guessed the quote "I miss you, cupcake." I'm beginning to think none of you care about this. Oh well. Also I'm looking for an .mp3 of "Where In The World Is Carmen Sandiego?" by Rockapella. Oh, and story number two in my detective series is coming soon, so keep a look out for it. Alright, laters folks.
21.1.04
My Story
Here one of the stories I wrote out in AIM chats last year. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it. (Caution, this story is long, and probably would be rated PG-13 if it were a movie. Oh, and its MINE, and Dan's, too, I suppose, so don't republish it without my permission, or I'll get pissed.)
Greg Levine's
Sex, Lies, and Small Brown Rodents
By Greg Levine, with Dan’s assistance
It was a dark and stormy night in East Windsor, New Jersey, with threatening clouds billowing over a pale yellow moon. Everywhere, passion was afoot. Or ahand, as the case may be. Always passion. Passionate love; passionate hate. Even, passionate murder...
A dark figure was killing a large, heavyset man. With a passion. (That is to say, the killer was passionately killing; the victim was decidedly unpleased with his situation.) The heavyset mans expressed his displeasure at being killed by screaming. Over a thunderclap, his screams were heard by several squirrels. The squirrels scattered, leaving their nuts to the mercy of any nearby raccoons. The dark murderer slunk away into the night.
Inexplicably, the next several hours were passed by with a forty-minute-long theme song.
Greg Levine, P.I., sat at his desk. He was not having the best day. First, several minutes had been recently wasted by an inappropriately long theme song. Even if it was about him, which it was, forty minutes was way too long.
Greg had also recently been kicked off the East Windsor police force for breaking one rule to many.
He had tried to explain it wasn't his fault. It was just the way he was. He was a man who dances along the edge of the law. He defies authority as a principle. He plays by his own rules. He has one goal: justice. And the side mission of profit. And the occasional sex. But only after justice.
His Captain had told him he had seen too many bad movies. He also had given Greg an hour to clean out his desk.
However, Greg's day was about to pick up. A loud creak alerted him to someone entering his office. It was a tall blonde. Her name was Ginger.
"My name is Ginger," she said, "and I need your help."
Greg wasn't surprised; lots of people needed his help.
"I'm not surprised," he grunted. "Lotsa folks need my help."
Ginger leaned over Greg's desk, putting her low neckline to good use. "My husband was murdered, and the police said--"
"Bah!" interrupted Greg. "What do the police know?"
"The police said he was mauled to death by squirrels," continued Ginger, "but I know that he was Murdered."
Ginger's use of a capital 'M' showed Greg how serious she was. She proceeded to explain how she saw a dark figure stab her husband passionately. "I think it was something about a debt of something," she explained. "When he was finished, he covered Frank in acorns, and used some sort of whistle to summon a bunch of squirrels."
There was something about Ginger that told Greg... something. He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but... "Okay," said Greg, "My fee is fifty bucks an hour, plus expenses."
"So you'll take the case?" Ginger looked like a giddy school girl. A giddy school girl in a low cut dress, but a school girl nonetheless.
"Hell yeah," Greg replied. "Three reasons. One, I'm a month behind in my rent, and my land lord's gonna kill me in the next week.
"Two, I'm a trained squirrelologist, mostly because I had a spare semester in college.
"And three," Greg said, with his trademark smirk, "you're a hottie. I never pass up the hottie cases."
Greg and Ginger drove to JFK International Airport, and took the first flight to London. There they connected to Paris, Egypt, Sri Lanka, and Sydney. Once in Sydney, Greg shot a dingo, made a sandwich out of it, and the took the next direct flight to Newark, New Jersey, and drove to the murder site, two blocks from Greg's office.
"Why all the flights?" asked a puzzled Ginger. She was beginning to regret ever hiring Greg in the first place.
"Because," said Greg, "I've just always wanted to try a dingo on rye." Deep down, though, Greg was having regrets, too. Dingoes really need mayo to be enjoyed to their fullest.
"That's all going on your bill," Greg added.
Before Ginger could respond Greg kneeled over the body of Ginger's husband, Overweight Frank. He hummed and hahhed to drown out any objection she may have tried to voice.
It was a textbook example of squirrel mauling, all right. Tiny bite marks covering the body; a small nest in the victims belly; acorn shells strewn across the floor. Pretty gruesome. But Greg noticed that something was wrong.
"Something's wrong," Greg remarked. "There's something weird going on here. Well, weirder than a squirrel mauling is, anyway."
Just then, a squirrel leapt from behind a kidney. It was carrying a small bit of flesh in its mouth.
"Tsststststssst," said Greg. "tissttststtssstttsstststs." To Ginger's untrained ear, it sounded like an actual squirrel was speaking, or rather, squeaking.
Indeed, to the squirrels very much trained ear, it also sounded like a real squirrel squeaking. The squirrel immediately opened its mouth and responded with something like "Oh yeah, well your mother's a raccoon!" and angrily left. Greg bent down to pick up the flesh the squirrel had dropped. He studied it.
"Hrrrmmmm...." said Greg.
"What is it?" asked Ginger.
"I've got to see the police."
Fifteen monetary systems later, the couple arrived at the local police station. Greg marched in with the air of someone who knew what he was doing. He walked down a hall, went into the first door on his left, and, after five minutes, walked out with a much relieved look on his face. The door closed behind him, and Greg noticed that the word 'men's', which he had seen earlier, had the prefix 'Wo', which he had no seen earlier. "Well, that explains the lack of urinals," he remarked, to no one in particular. "And the screaming".
Greg led Ginger to the captain's door, then pointed her to a seat. "Wait out here," he said. "Its for your protection."
Actually, it was for Greg's protection. The captain was neither violent nor dangerous. Greg merely found that chicks slept with him less if they saw him arguing with Captain Dan.
As Greg walked in, he prayed that the captain was in a good mood.
He wasn't.
"Oooohhh no, Levine," said the captain upon seeing Greg. "Not again. I told you last time, you don't get a watch when you accuse the Mayor of a triple homicide."
"Look," said Greg, "If I was wrong about that, it’s only because I didn't have enough evidence to prove the fourth case." He grinned. "'Sides, that was a long time ago. Now I need your help."
"What?" said Dan. "Why should I do anything to help you?"
"Here's why." Greg threw the piece of flesh on the table.
"What is this?"
"Judging from the hair," said Greg, "it’s from the backside of the late Overweight Frank."
"Wait, you took evidence from a crime scene? That's a felony."
Greg grinned. "It's not the ACTUAL bit of flesh. It’s a plaster copy."
The captain stared at the grin for a second before saying, "Yeah, well, anyway, that's yesterday's news. He died of a squirrel mauling. Case closed."
"You sure? Look at this." Greg squeezed the chunk of hairy meat, and it opened like a meaty clam, more or less. "That," he said "is a knife wound. Since when do squirrels dine with machetes?"
"So Franky was murdered." Dan scratched his brow. "But the question is, who? Who killed him?"
"That's what I need you guys for. I have a witness outside who said she saw the murder. It’s his wife."
"Wife? Frank wasn't married. He divorced some blonde last week. His fourth since Ninety-nine."
"Well, he obviously found a new one. Maybe he eloped or something."
The captain looked though some files, then nodded. "Yeah. He got married a couple of days ago, or started to anyway. Never got the papers signed officially."
"Anyway, it doesn't matter." Greg was growing impatient. "See what you can coax outta Ginger here. I'll meet you tonight at Micky's." He rose to leave.
"Wait!" cried Dan. "Where are you going? What are you gonna do? How can I reach you?"
"You have my cell." With that non-shallot comment, Greg was gone.
"NO I DON'T!!" yelled Dan.
Dan's phone rang, and he answered it. "Yes?"
"Now you do." And Greg hung up.
Dan ran outside. Greg was gone, but in big letters, above the sign saying 'POLICE', it read:
GREG LEVINE, P.I.
(609)-555-0047
"Dammit, Greg."
That night, Greg walked into Micky's and sat at his usual table. Dan was waiting.
"Whaddaya got?" Greg asked.
"You first." said the captain.
"How 'bout you first, and I buy dinner."
"Fine. This is what we got." Dan held up a composite drawing of a black guy in a knit cap. He looked angry.
"Hey," quipped Greg. "Haven't I seen that guy on CNN? Isn't the face of... oh... EVERY UNSOLVED CASE IN A BIG CITY?"
"Yeah," said Dan. "We noticed that, too."
"So, not much help there." Greg was a master at noticing the obvious.
Just then he noticed his favorite waitress walking up. "Hey, Marie," he said. "What's shaking?"
Marie just giggled. "What can I get you boys?" she asked, unnecessarily. She knew what her love would order.
"The Usual" Greg replied. Dan grimaced.
Marie smiled and trotted off sexily to get their cheeseburger Happy Meal and child sized Cokes.
Dan ducked and narrowly avoided a red plastic ball headed his way. "Greg, you cheapskate, you've gotta stop eating at McDonald's."
"But Micky and I go back a long way." said Greg. "I solved my first case in this very resturaunt. Some kid had been hit in a drive-by balling. He said he’d give me three fries and a McNugget if I found the culprit. And I did. Bet McNugget I ever had."
"So..." Dan drove on. "What have you found?"
"Not much, cept it probably wasn't Blackey Mc-Stereotype over here. Frank gave regularly to the local NAACP. Why, just last week, he helped put a giant flaming lowercase 'y' in front of the KKK Klubhouse. Just to confuse them."
"So that's what it was..." said Dan. "We'd been puzzling over that one for some time now."
"Anyway, I couldn't find any good suspects. Frank was well liked, 'cept for his ex-wives."
"Well, what about them?" Dan asked.
Greg had spoken to three of Frank's ex-wives that day. "I spoke to three of Frank's wives today. They all had motive enough, but no real opportunity. 'Specially that Amy Arset."
"Why? What's so special about her?" That was a rhetorical question. Dan had seen Amy around town. She was quite the looker. "She have an alibi?"
"The best," said Greg. "Rock solid."
Greg grinned smugly, then added, "Mine."
"Oh really," said Marie as she walked up with the check. It was worth it to be a frequent patron to Micky's.
"Its closing time, gentlemen." Even when she was kicking people out, Marie looked gorgeous. Greg told her so, and she blushed, becoming even more gorgeous.
"Hey, Marie," grinned Greg, "There's something in the back room I need to show you." Greg smiled his irresistible smile, the one Marie couldn't avoid. It was worth it to be a frequent patron of Mickys.
Dan just rolled his eyes. "Whatever. Listen, you. Save me an Egg McMuffin in the morning."
"Yeah, sure, no problem." Greg wouldn't remember. His attention was thoroughly focused on something else.
'How is Greg so damn lucky,' thought Dan as he walked out. He heard Greg whisper something. Marie laughed. 'Lucky bastard' added Dan's head.
Just before he got in his car, Dan heard a scream from inside. He ran to check it out.
When he got to the back room, Marie wasn't wearing her shirt. Dan found this wildly distracting. Then he saw what had stopped her from taking of her bra, and had made her decide to scream instead.
Greg was on the floor next to a pretty young woman, ungagging her. When he had taken it off, she said "I'm Candy, Overweight Frank's fifth wife. I think someone's trying to kill him."
'How the hell,' though Dan, 'is Greg so damn lucky?!'
Greg walked into his office, visibly tired. His mood got worse when he noticed his neatly sorted papers were lying on the floor in a crumpled mess.
His mood brightened, however, when he noticed Ginger lying suggestively on top of his now clear desk.
"Hey big guy," she said, even more suggestively. "Rough day on the job?"
"The worst," Greg sighed. "But we caught the guy."
"You did?" Ginger seemed surprised by Greg's fast results. "Well, then, lets celebrate"
"Sure," said Greg. He loosened his belt. "It's just... Whoa, what a day! I hadda chase this guy down an alley. He was just as you described him. Black, angry. Even got the knit cap right. You have a good memory."
"Come on, Levine," Ginger was growing anxious. "You can regale me with tales of heroism later. But now..." Ginger ripped away her new red dress, revealing pages 32 and 75 of the new Victoria's Secret catalogue. "Right now I need some Levine Loving!"
Greg tried to pretend not to notice. "The clumsy bastard, he knocked over an apple cart, never even slowed down. I did. Picked up an apple.
"Funny thing," Greg continued. “They always claim they're innocent. 'I didn't do nuthin'!' he shouted.
“‘Yeah, right,' I sez. I told him about the squirrels and the knife wound, and he still denies it. We hadda drag him kicking and screaming to the police station."
Ginger was rapidly falling out of the mood. She sat there in her underwear, and said, "Yeah, like he'd forget how he knifed my Frankie in the back."
"One thing left, before we get down," said Greg. When Ginger frowned, Greg said merely, "Your bill."
"My what?"
"Business before pleasure, that's what mamma always said." 'Or both at once,' Greg thought, as Ginger, still in lingerie, reached for her purse.
"Umm..." Ginger was feeling awkward, but asked "How much?"
"Well, it’s been 14 hours, so that's seven hundred there. Plus two thousand for the airline tickets. $11.98 for two Happy Meals, and $359 for damage to an apple cart and several apples." As if for evidence, Greg pulled out an apple and ate it. The grand total is, er..." Greg fiddled with a calculator, "$3070.98, if you please."
Ginger signed a check, and held it out to Greg then she waved him closer with her free hand. "Ready now?" she grinned.
Greg grinned back. Without speaking, he whipped his belt out and around the confused arms of an even more confused Ginger. Then he stamped his left foot.
He waited a few seconds.
Then he stomped again.
After a few more seconds, he yelled "DAN!"
Captain Dan, the girl Candy, and a half platoon of cops burst into the office. "Ginger," said Dan, "I'm placing you under arrest for the murder of Overweight Frank. You have the right to remain silent..."
Candy ran up and gave Greg a hug and a long, passionate, victory kiss.
"...You have the right to wear pants..."
The kiss continued.
"...You have the right to a barrel of monkeys..."
Still kissing...
When Dan had given Ginger the right to Cherry Coke, Greg and Candy untwined from each other.
"You two done?" Ginger scowled. She scowled some more, and said "I bet you wanna know why-"
"Oh, no Ginger," said Greg. "I know why. It’s because Frank is a cheating-"
Ginger joined him in berating her victim "-lying fucking bastard!"
"Yes," Greg continued, "and when he dumped you, you hated him. So much so you killed him, and used a squirrel attack to cover it up.
"What I don't get, though, is why you came to me. You knew I was a squirrelologist. You knew I loved McDonald's. I was bound to discover the clues you left."
"Of course!" screamed Ginger hysterically. "I wanted you to find out. I wanted you to win! I LOVE YOU! I've loved you ever since you did that piece on 20/20."
"I never did a piece on 20/20," remarked Greg, as he motioned for the police to take her away.
"NOO!!" shouted Ginger, as the cops dragged her down the hall. "Greg, how can you do this?! Can't you see that we were meant to be together?"
"Crazy bitch" Greg said, though now only Dan and Candy remained with him. "Not you, Candy," he added hastily.
"Of course. She does have one redeeming quality,” beamed Candy. "She brought us together."
"Too true, too true," said Greg, whose belt-less pants finally succumbed to gravity's pull.
Dan could take a hint. "I can take a hint. I'll be going."
Greg never noticed him leave. Dan, on the other hand, couldn't help but notice what was happening on Greg's desk. He shut the door, walked down to his car, then yelled when he saw that his nearly new car had been made into one of Greg's business cards:
"Where the hell does Greg find these huge letters?!"
THE END
Greg Levine's
Sex, Lies, and Small Brown Rodents
By Greg Levine, with Dan’s assistance
It was a dark and stormy night in East Windsor, New Jersey, with threatening clouds billowing over a pale yellow moon. Everywhere, passion was afoot. Or ahand, as the case may be. Always passion. Passionate love; passionate hate. Even, passionate murder...
A dark figure was killing a large, heavyset man. With a passion. (That is to say, the killer was passionately killing; the victim was decidedly unpleased with his situation.) The heavyset mans expressed his displeasure at being killed by screaming. Over a thunderclap, his screams were heard by several squirrels. The squirrels scattered, leaving their nuts to the mercy of any nearby raccoons. The dark murderer slunk away into the night.
Inexplicably, the next several hours were passed by with a forty-minute-long theme song.
Greg Levine, P.I., sat at his desk. He was not having the best day. First, several minutes had been recently wasted by an inappropriately long theme song. Even if it was about him, which it was, forty minutes was way too long.
Greg had also recently been kicked off the East Windsor police force for breaking one rule to many.
He had tried to explain it wasn't his fault. It was just the way he was. He was a man who dances along the edge of the law. He defies authority as a principle. He plays by his own rules. He has one goal: justice. And the side mission of profit. And the occasional sex. But only after justice.
His Captain had told him he had seen too many bad movies. He also had given Greg an hour to clean out his desk.
However, Greg's day was about to pick up. A loud creak alerted him to someone entering his office. It was a tall blonde. Her name was Ginger.
"My name is Ginger," she said, "and I need your help."
Greg wasn't surprised; lots of people needed his help.
"I'm not surprised," he grunted. "Lotsa folks need my help."
Ginger leaned over Greg's desk, putting her low neckline to good use. "My husband was murdered, and the police said--"
"Bah!" interrupted Greg. "What do the police know?"
"The police said he was mauled to death by squirrels," continued Ginger, "but I know that he was Murdered."
Ginger's use of a capital 'M' showed Greg how serious she was. She proceeded to explain how she saw a dark figure stab her husband passionately. "I think it was something about a debt of something," she explained. "When he was finished, he covered Frank in acorns, and used some sort of whistle to summon a bunch of squirrels."
There was something about Ginger that told Greg... something. He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but... "Okay," said Greg, "My fee is fifty bucks an hour, plus expenses."
"So you'll take the case?" Ginger looked like a giddy school girl. A giddy school girl in a low cut dress, but a school girl nonetheless.
"Hell yeah," Greg replied. "Three reasons. One, I'm a month behind in my rent, and my land lord's gonna kill me in the next week.
"Two, I'm a trained squirrelologist, mostly because I had a spare semester in college.
"And three," Greg said, with his trademark smirk, "you're a hottie. I never pass up the hottie cases."
Greg and Ginger drove to JFK International Airport, and took the first flight to London. There they connected to Paris, Egypt, Sri Lanka, and Sydney. Once in Sydney, Greg shot a dingo, made a sandwich out of it, and the took the next direct flight to Newark, New Jersey, and drove to the murder site, two blocks from Greg's office.
"Why all the flights?" asked a puzzled Ginger. She was beginning to regret ever hiring Greg in the first place.
"Because," said Greg, "I've just always wanted to try a dingo on rye." Deep down, though, Greg was having regrets, too. Dingoes really need mayo to be enjoyed to their fullest.
"That's all going on your bill," Greg added.
Before Ginger could respond Greg kneeled over the body of Ginger's husband, Overweight Frank. He hummed and hahhed to drown out any objection she may have tried to voice.
It was a textbook example of squirrel mauling, all right. Tiny bite marks covering the body; a small nest in the victims belly; acorn shells strewn across the floor. Pretty gruesome. But Greg noticed that something was wrong.
"Something's wrong," Greg remarked. "There's something weird going on here. Well, weirder than a squirrel mauling is, anyway."
Just then, a squirrel leapt from behind a kidney. It was carrying a small bit of flesh in its mouth.
"Tsststststssst," said Greg. "tissttststtssstttsstststs." To Ginger's untrained ear, it sounded like an actual squirrel was speaking, or rather, squeaking.
Indeed, to the squirrels very much trained ear, it also sounded like a real squirrel squeaking. The squirrel immediately opened its mouth and responded with something like "Oh yeah, well your mother's a raccoon!" and angrily left. Greg bent down to pick up the flesh the squirrel had dropped. He studied it.
"Hrrrmmmm...." said Greg.
"What is it?" asked Ginger.
"I've got to see the police."
Fifteen monetary systems later, the couple arrived at the local police station. Greg marched in with the air of someone who knew what he was doing. He walked down a hall, went into the first door on his left, and, after five minutes, walked out with a much relieved look on his face. The door closed behind him, and Greg noticed that the word 'men's', which he had seen earlier, had the prefix 'Wo', which he had no seen earlier. "Well, that explains the lack of urinals," he remarked, to no one in particular. "And the screaming".
Greg led Ginger to the captain's door, then pointed her to a seat. "Wait out here," he said. "Its for your protection."
Actually, it was for Greg's protection. The captain was neither violent nor dangerous. Greg merely found that chicks slept with him less if they saw him arguing with Captain Dan.
As Greg walked in, he prayed that the captain was in a good mood.
He wasn't.
"Oooohhh no, Levine," said the captain upon seeing Greg. "Not again. I told you last time, you don't get a watch when you accuse the Mayor of a triple homicide."
"Look," said Greg, "If I was wrong about that, it’s only because I didn't have enough evidence to prove the fourth case." He grinned. "'Sides, that was a long time ago. Now I need your help."
"What?" said Dan. "Why should I do anything to help you?"
"Here's why." Greg threw the piece of flesh on the table.
"What is this?"
"Judging from the hair," said Greg, "it’s from the backside of the late Overweight Frank."
"Wait, you took evidence from a crime scene? That's a felony."
Greg grinned. "It's not the ACTUAL bit of flesh. It’s a plaster copy."
The captain stared at the grin for a second before saying, "Yeah, well, anyway, that's yesterday's news. He died of a squirrel mauling. Case closed."
"You sure? Look at this." Greg squeezed the chunk of hairy meat, and it opened like a meaty clam, more or less. "That," he said "is a knife wound. Since when do squirrels dine with machetes?"
"So Franky was murdered." Dan scratched his brow. "But the question is, who? Who killed him?"
"That's what I need you guys for. I have a witness outside who said she saw the murder. It’s his wife."
"Wife? Frank wasn't married. He divorced some blonde last week. His fourth since Ninety-nine."
"Well, he obviously found a new one. Maybe he eloped or something."
The captain looked though some files, then nodded. "Yeah. He got married a couple of days ago, or started to anyway. Never got the papers signed officially."
"Anyway, it doesn't matter." Greg was growing impatient. "See what you can coax outta Ginger here. I'll meet you tonight at Micky's." He rose to leave.
"Wait!" cried Dan. "Where are you going? What are you gonna do? How can I reach you?"
"You have my cell." With that non-shallot comment, Greg was gone.
"NO I DON'T!!" yelled Dan.
Dan's phone rang, and he answered it. "Yes?"
"Now you do." And Greg hung up.
Dan ran outside. Greg was gone, but in big letters, above the sign saying 'POLICE', it read:
GREG LEVINE, P.I.
(609)-555-0047
"Dammit, Greg."
That night, Greg walked into Micky's and sat at his usual table. Dan was waiting.
"Whaddaya got?" Greg asked.
"You first." said the captain.
"How 'bout you first, and I buy dinner."
"Fine. This is what we got." Dan held up a composite drawing of a black guy in a knit cap. He looked angry.
"Hey," quipped Greg. "Haven't I seen that guy on CNN? Isn't the face of... oh... EVERY UNSOLVED CASE IN A BIG CITY?"
"Yeah," said Dan. "We noticed that, too."
"So, not much help there." Greg was a master at noticing the obvious.
Just then he noticed his favorite waitress walking up. "Hey, Marie," he said. "What's shaking?"
Marie just giggled. "What can I get you boys?" she asked, unnecessarily. She knew what her love would order.
"The Usual" Greg replied. Dan grimaced.
Marie smiled and trotted off sexily to get their cheeseburger Happy Meal and child sized Cokes.
Dan ducked and narrowly avoided a red plastic ball headed his way. "Greg, you cheapskate, you've gotta stop eating at McDonald's."
"But Micky and I go back a long way." said Greg. "I solved my first case in this very resturaunt. Some kid had been hit in a drive-by balling. He said he’d give me three fries and a McNugget if I found the culprit. And I did. Bet McNugget I ever had."
"So..." Dan drove on. "What have you found?"
"Not much, cept it probably wasn't Blackey Mc-Stereotype over here. Frank gave regularly to the local NAACP. Why, just last week, he helped put a giant flaming lowercase 'y' in front of the KKK Klubhouse. Just to confuse them."
"So that's what it was..." said Dan. "We'd been puzzling over that one for some time now."
"Anyway, I couldn't find any good suspects. Frank was well liked, 'cept for his ex-wives."
"Well, what about them?" Dan asked.
Greg had spoken to three of Frank's ex-wives that day. "I spoke to three of Frank's wives today. They all had motive enough, but no real opportunity. 'Specially that Amy Arset."
"Why? What's so special about her?" That was a rhetorical question. Dan had seen Amy around town. She was quite the looker. "She have an alibi?"
"The best," said Greg. "Rock solid."
Greg grinned smugly, then added, "Mine."
"Oh really," said Marie as she walked up with the check. It was worth it to be a frequent patron to Micky's.
"Its closing time, gentlemen." Even when she was kicking people out, Marie looked gorgeous. Greg told her so, and she blushed, becoming even more gorgeous.
"Hey, Marie," grinned Greg, "There's something in the back room I need to show you." Greg smiled his irresistible smile, the one Marie couldn't avoid. It was worth it to be a frequent patron of Mickys.
Dan just rolled his eyes. "Whatever. Listen, you. Save me an Egg McMuffin in the morning."
"Yeah, sure, no problem." Greg wouldn't remember. His attention was thoroughly focused on something else.
'How is Greg so damn lucky,' thought Dan as he walked out. He heard Greg whisper something. Marie laughed. 'Lucky bastard' added Dan's head.
Just before he got in his car, Dan heard a scream from inside. He ran to check it out.
When he got to the back room, Marie wasn't wearing her shirt. Dan found this wildly distracting. Then he saw what had stopped her from taking of her bra, and had made her decide to scream instead.
Greg was on the floor next to a pretty young woman, ungagging her. When he had taken it off, she said "I'm Candy, Overweight Frank's fifth wife. I think someone's trying to kill him."
'How the hell,' though Dan, 'is Greg so damn lucky?!'
Greg walked into his office, visibly tired. His mood got worse when he noticed his neatly sorted papers were lying on the floor in a crumpled mess.
His mood brightened, however, when he noticed Ginger lying suggestively on top of his now clear desk.
"Hey big guy," she said, even more suggestively. "Rough day on the job?"
"The worst," Greg sighed. "But we caught the guy."
"You did?" Ginger seemed surprised by Greg's fast results. "Well, then, lets celebrate"
"Sure," said Greg. He loosened his belt. "It's just... Whoa, what a day! I hadda chase this guy down an alley. He was just as you described him. Black, angry. Even got the knit cap right. You have a good memory."
"Come on, Levine," Ginger was growing anxious. "You can regale me with tales of heroism later. But now..." Ginger ripped away her new red dress, revealing pages 32 and 75 of the new Victoria's Secret catalogue. "Right now I need some Levine Loving!"
Greg tried to pretend not to notice. "The clumsy bastard, he knocked over an apple cart, never even slowed down. I did. Picked up an apple.
"Funny thing," Greg continued. “They always claim they're innocent. 'I didn't do nuthin'!' he shouted.
“‘Yeah, right,' I sez. I told him about the squirrels and the knife wound, and he still denies it. We hadda drag him kicking and screaming to the police station."
Ginger was rapidly falling out of the mood. She sat there in her underwear, and said, "Yeah, like he'd forget how he knifed my Frankie in the back."
"One thing left, before we get down," said Greg. When Ginger frowned, Greg said merely, "Your bill."
"My what?"
"Business before pleasure, that's what mamma always said." 'Or both at once,' Greg thought, as Ginger, still in lingerie, reached for her purse.
"Umm..." Ginger was feeling awkward, but asked "How much?"
"Well, it’s been 14 hours, so that's seven hundred there. Plus two thousand for the airline tickets. $11.98 for two Happy Meals, and $359 for damage to an apple cart and several apples." As if for evidence, Greg pulled out an apple and ate it. The grand total is, er..." Greg fiddled with a calculator, "$3070.98, if you please."
Ginger signed a check, and held it out to Greg then she waved him closer with her free hand. "Ready now?" she grinned.
Greg grinned back. Without speaking, he whipped his belt out and around the confused arms of an even more confused Ginger. Then he stamped his left foot.
He waited a few seconds.
Then he stomped again.
After a few more seconds, he yelled "DAN!"
Captain Dan, the girl Candy, and a half platoon of cops burst into the office. "Ginger," said Dan, "I'm placing you under arrest for the murder of Overweight Frank. You have the right to remain silent..."
Candy ran up and gave Greg a hug and a long, passionate, victory kiss.
"...You have the right to wear pants..."
The kiss continued.
"...You have the right to a barrel of monkeys..."
Still kissing...
When Dan had given Ginger the right to Cherry Coke, Greg and Candy untwined from each other.
"You two done?" Ginger scowled. She scowled some more, and said "I bet you wanna know why-"
"Oh, no Ginger," said Greg. "I know why. It’s because Frank is a cheating-"
Ginger joined him in berating her victim "-lying fucking bastard!"
"Yes," Greg continued, "and when he dumped you, you hated him. So much so you killed him, and used a squirrel attack to cover it up.
"What I don't get, though, is why you came to me. You knew I was a squirrelologist. You knew I loved McDonald's. I was bound to discover the clues you left."
"Of course!" screamed Ginger hysterically. "I wanted you to find out. I wanted you to win! I LOVE YOU! I've loved you ever since you did that piece on 20/20."
"I never did a piece on 20/20," remarked Greg, as he motioned for the police to take her away.
"NOO!!" shouted Ginger, as the cops dragged her down the hall. "Greg, how can you do this?! Can't you see that we were meant to be together?"
"Crazy bitch" Greg said, though now only Dan and Candy remained with him. "Not you, Candy," he added hastily.
"Of course. She does have one redeeming quality,” beamed Candy. "She brought us together."
"Too true, too true," said Greg, whose belt-less pants finally succumbed to gravity's pull.
Dan could take a hint. "I can take a hint. I'll be going."
Greg never noticed him leave. Dan, on the other hand, couldn't help but notice what was happening on Greg's desk. He shut the door, walked down to his car, then yelled when he saw that his nearly new car had been made into one of Greg's business cards:
"Where the hell does Greg find these huge letters?!"
THE END
20.1.04
About That Time Again
Greetings, folks. I just checked my watch and noticed its almost been 4 days since a blog entry. That will not due. I also checked my watch and decided that 2 o'clock is too late to be sleeping in. Actually, the first thing I thought was "What the hell does 14:00 mean again?" Military Time is not something that is good for waking up to. Oh well. I know what it means, now. After enough practice, I'll be a pro at it.
Alright, so, whats going on with my life? Umm.. not much, I have to say. Oh, I finally got myself a steady internet connection. Or rather, I'm borrowing my Neighbors steady internet connection. Heh. This means, however, that I must sit on my bed to do work. Which leads to odd things, such as napping until 2 in the afternoon, aka 1400. Oh well. I am now rested.
One of the main reasons for the switch in connection, aside from getting booted out of chatrooms being generally annoying, is the ability to play StarCraft without having long pauses for such. Yeah, that's right, I've delved back into the world of StarCraft, the greatest real time strategy (RTS) game ever. I enjoy the game immencely, though, admittedly, my skills have gotten rusty in the year or so it's been since I last played it heavily. My personal favorites are the terrans, who can usually overrun anything with a combination of Tanks, Goliaths, and Spider Mines laid by Vultures. I like them because of their mobile nature, where-in their defensive "structures" (Tanks, Marines from Bunkers, even Goliaths can be used as mobile Turrets) can be moved easily from a guard duty to an oppressive, forward moving front line. Oh, plus, nukes are fun. ^_^
Okay, that's enough for one day. I have much to do. I need to apply onlne at Blockbuster (again...wait, I already sent one, right? I'M DONE!). Anyway, in that case, I need to do work on my stories. Sigh. So long.
Alright, so, whats going on with my life? Umm.. not much, I have to say. Oh, I finally got myself a steady internet connection. Or rather, I'm borrowing my Neighbors steady internet connection. Heh. This means, however, that I must sit on my bed to do work. Which leads to odd things, such as napping until 2 in the afternoon, aka 1400. Oh well. I am now rested.
One of the main reasons for the switch in connection, aside from getting booted out of chatrooms being generally annoying, is the ability to play StarCraft without having long pauses for such. Yeah, that's right, I've delved back into the world of StarCraft, the greatest real time strategy (RTS) game ever. I enjoy the game immencely, though, admittedly, my skills have gotten rusty in the year or so it's been since I last played it heavily. My personal favorites are the terrans, who can usually overrun anything with a combination of Tanks, Goliaths, and Spider Mines laid by Vultures. I like them because of their mobile nature, where-in their defensive "structures" (Tanks, Marines from Bunkers, even Goliaths can be used as mobile Turrets) can be moved easily from a guard duty to an oppressive, forward moving front line. Oh, plus, nukes are fun. ^_^
Okay, that's enough for one day. I have much to do. I need to apply onlne at Blockbuster (again...wait, I already sent one, right? I'M DONE!). Anyway, in that case, I need to do work on my stories. Sigh. So long.
15.1.04
Magic Deck Idea
I just got an insane idea for a Magic deck. If you don't play Magic, you might as well just skip this entry. I gave you two other entries, though, so don't worry. And maybe you'll get lucky, and I'll come back and post my story here when I'm done. Who knows?
Like most of my deck ideas, mine started with a rather stupid combination of cards. Maybe not THAT stupid, though... I was having a conversation with my stepbrother, James, on AIM, when this came up:
xx L33T N1NJ4 xx = me
FDlink5789 = James
FDlink5789: ykno wuts a good combo?
xx L33T N1NJ4 xx: yeah
xx L33T N1NJ4 xx: umm...
xx L33T N1NJ4 xx: oh, i had it...
xx L33T N1NJ4 xx: ah!
FDlink5789: icy assassin
FDlink5789: icy manipulator+royal assassin
xx L33T N1NJ4 xx: words of wind with ornithopter and veldakin archmage
xx L33T N1NJ4 xx: ^_^
FDlink5789: but u knew that
FDlink5789: wait
FDlink5789: how do u really spell it?
FDlink5789: veldakin?
xx L33T N1NJ4 xx: umm
xx L33T N1NJ4 xx: its how I spell it..
xx L33T N1NJ4 xx: heh
FDlink5789: vedalken archmage
xx L33T N1NJ4 xx: anyway
xx L33T N1NJ4 xx: but yeah
xx L33T N1NJ4 xx: that, plus words, and free artifacts == lock
FDlink5789: woah
FDlink5789: dude that combo is crap
FDlink5789: almost pointless
xx L33T N1NJ4 xx: not so
xx L33T N1NJ4 xx: get the mage and the words into play
xx L33T N1NJ4 xx: then play a orni
xx L33T N1NJ4 xx: instead of drawing, everyone returns stuff to their hands
FDlink5789: i understand how it works...
xx L33T N1NJ4 xx: so, for as much mana as you have, you can bounce that much stuff to ur opponents have
FDlink5789: umm...
FDlink5789: ooohhhh...
FDlink5789: now i really understand
FDlink5789: ok
xx L33T N1NJ4 xx: yeah
FDlink5789: thats good
xx L33T N1NJ4 xx: very
FDlink5789: wut do u do about dmg?
xx L33T N1NJ4 xx: umm
xx L33T N1NJ4 xx: leveler?
xx L33T N1NJ4 xx: ^_^
FDlink5789: lol
FDlink5789: crap card
xx L33T N1NJ4 xx: maybe..
xx L33T N1NJ4 xx: but if you have a way around drawing
xx L33T N1NJ4 xx: and ur opponant has 0 cards in play
xx L33T N1NJ4 xx: a 10/10 can be very useful
xx L33T N1NJ4 xx: shit
FDlink5789: ?
xx L33T N1NJ4 xx: i think i just made a good deck
xx L33T N1NJ4 xx: now i have to go build it
Funny point I should bring up here - originally, the combo I was going to bring out was my Green and Blue Enchantress deck, that functioned similarly, but I was stuck by the awesomeness of being able to go mono-U with the Archmage and free artifacts. So, assuming we'll have four of each of our combo pieces, our deck starts out like this:
4x Vedalken Archmage
4x Words of Wind
4x Ornithopter
4x Leveler
I was going to try throwing in a few other free artifacts, possibly Chrome Mox, Frogmite, Welding Jar, and others. We'll see what I have space for. (By the way, if you couldn't tell, I'm making this deck up as we go along.) Anyway, with our current start, we can decide what kind of support cards we should use. Counter effects can be useful, as can card drawing. Since our main combo pieces are all in Type 2, and Mirrodin will supply us with all the 0 mana artifacts we need, there's no real reason to not make it a Type 2 deck. I might suggest, however that the following card be used, as well - Lightning Greaves. Not only will the greaves protect your Archmage while you use him to bounce your opponent's stuff, you can also create a quick clock once you've cleared a path by attaching them to your freshly cast Leveler.
With a reasonable start, this deck could conceivably win by turn 6. Turn 5, if somehow your opponent gets mana screwed/flooded, and you get an insane God-hand. Watch-
Going second (7 cards in hand)
Turn one - Draw, Island, Chrome Mox with a random Blue card imprinted on it, then tap both to cast Greaves. (4 cards in hand)
Turn two - Draw, Island, Words of Wind. (3 cards in hand)
Turn three - Draw, Island, Archmage, play an ornithopter to draw another card. (2 cards in hand.)
Turn four - Draw, Island, lay down Leveler (drawing a card BEFORE his come into play effect removes your library), equip some greaves, attack your opponent for ten. (2 cards in hand)
Turn five - Skip the draw with the Words, returning your ornithopter to your hand (or the Chrome Mox, maybe,depending on how the order goes), then lay your 5th island, and proceed to swap your Ornithopter and Mox over and over again, while returning all your opponents permanents to his hand. You can do this 6 times this turn, before you attack with your Leveler. Assuming your opponent never had any blockers, you have just won.
Of course, no game should ever go like that. Ideally, really, the deck wants to wait until it has obtained total dominance before it drops its leveler, so no unexpected surprises arise. So, here, to close, is the complete decklist, as it is now, though there will probably be a great deal of tweaking before I have a finished model. Enjoy.
Words of Leveling.dec, version 1.0
Combo-
4x Vedalken Archmage
4x Words of Wind
3x Leveler
4x Lightning Greaves
Free Artifacts-
4x Ornithopter
4x Chrome Mox
4x Frogmite
Countering-
4x Mana Leak
4x Assert Authority
Card Drawing-
4x Thoughcast
2x Thirst for Knowledge
Mana-
4x Seat of the Synod
4x Talisman of Dominance
15x Island
If you want to see the cards, go to MagicTheGathering.com and click their "card of the day" link to open an Auto-card window, and type the name of the card you're looking for. Oh, and by the way, all ideas I post here are copyright of ME, unless otherwise noticed. So don't run off to some Magic strategy site with MY ideas.
Like most of my deck ideas, mine started with a rather stupid combination of cards. Maybe not THAT stupid, though... I was having a conversation with my stepbrother, James, on AIM, when this came up:
xx L33T N1NJ4 xx = me
FDlink5789 = James
FDlink5789: ykno wuts a good combo?
xx L33T N1NJ4 xx: yeah
xx L33T N1NJ4 xx: umm...
xx L33T N1NJ4 xx: oh, i had it...
xx L33T N1NJ4 xx: ah!
FDlink5789: icy assassin
FDlink5789: icy manipulator+royal assassin
xx L33T N1NJ4 xx: words of wind with ornithopter and veldakin archmage
xx L33T N1NJ4 xx: ^_^
FDlink5789: but u knew that
FDlink5789: wait
FDlink5789: how do u really spell it?
FDlink5789: veldakin?
xx L33T N1NJ4 xx: umm
xx L33T N1NJ4 xx: its how I spell it..
xx L33T N1NJ4 xx: heh
FDlink5789: vedalken archmage
xx L33T N1NJ4 xx: anyway
xx L33T N1NJ4 xx: but yeah
xx L33T N1NJ4 xx: that, plus words, and free artifacts == lock
FDlink5789: woah
FDlink5789: dude that combo is crap
FDlink5789: almost pointless
xx L33T N1NJ4 xx: not so
xx L33T N1NJ4 xx: get the mage and the words into play
xx L33T N1NJ4 xx: then play a orni
xx L33T N1NJ4 xx: instead of drawing, everyone returns stuff to their hands
FDlink5789: i understand how it works...
xx L33T N1NJ4 xx: so, for as much mana as you have, you can bounce that much stuff to ur opponents have
FDlink5789: umm...
FDlink5789: ooohhhh...
FDlink5789: now i really understand
FDlink5789: ok
xx L33T N1NJ4 xx: yeah
FDlink5789: thats good
xx L33T N1NJ4 xx: very
FDlink5789: wut do u do about dmg?
xx L33T N1NJ4 xx: umm
xx L33T N1NJ4 xx: leveler?
xx L33T N1NJ4 xx: ^_^
FDlink5789: lol
FDlink5789: crap card
xx L33T N1NJ4 xx: maybe..
xx L33T N1NJ4 xx: but if you have a way around drawing
xx L33T N1NJ4 xx: and ur opponant has 0 cards in play
xx L33T N1NJ4 xx: a 10/10 can be very useful
xx L33T N1NJ4 xx: shit
FDlink5789: ?
xx L33T N1NJ4 xx: i think i just made a good deck
xx L33T N1NJ4 xx: now i have to go build it
Funny point I should bring up here - originally, the combo I was going to bring out was my Green and Blue Enchantress deck, that functioned similarly, but I was stuck by the awesomeness of being able to go mono-U with the Archmage and free artifacts. So, assuming we'll have four of each of our combo pieces, our deck starts out like this:
4x Vedalken Archmage
4x Words of Wind
4x Ornithopter
4x Leveler
I was going to try throwing in a few other free artifacts, possibly Chrome Mox, Frogmite, Welding Jar, and others. We'll see what I have space for. (By the way, if you couldn't tell, I'm making this deck up as we go along.) Anyway, with our current start, we can decide what kind of support cards we should use. Counter effects can be useful, as can card drawing. Since our main combo pieces are all in Type 2, and Mirrodin will supply us with all the 0 mana artifacts we need, there's no real reason to not make it a Type 2 deck. I might suggest, however that the following card be used, as well - Lightning Greaves. Not only will the greaves protect your Archmage while you use him to bounce your opponent's stuff, you can also create a quick clock once you've cleared a path by attaching them to your freshly cast Leveler.
With a reasonable start, this deck could conceivably win by turn 6. Turn 5, if somehow your opponent gets mana screwed/flooded, and you get an insane God-hand. Watch-
Going second (7 cards in hand)
Turn one - Draw, Island, Chrome Mox with a random Blue card imprinted on it, then tap both to cast Greaves. (4 cards in hand)
Turn two - Draw, Island, Words of Wind. (3 cards in hand)
Turn three - Draw, Island, Archmage, play an ornithopter to draw another card. (2 cards in hand.)
Turn four - Draw, Island, lay down Leveler (drawing a card BEFORE his come into play effect removes your library), equip some greaves, attack your opponent for ten. (2 cards in hand)
Turn five - Skip the draw with the Words, returning your ornithopter to your hand (or the Chrome Mox, maybe,depending on how the order goes), then lay your 5th island, and proceed to swap your Ornithopter and Mox over and over again, while returning all your opponents permanents to his hand. You can do this 6 times this turn, before you attack with your Leveler. Assuming your opponent never had any blockers, you have just won.
Of course, no game should ever go like that. Ideally, really, the deck wants to wait until it has obtained total dominance before it drops its leveler, so no unexpected surprises arise. So, here, to close, is the complete decklist, as it is now, though there will probably be a great deal of tweaking before I have a finished model. Enjoy.
Words of Leveling.dec, version 1.0
Combo-
4x Vedalken Archmage
4x Words of Wind
3x Leveler
4x Lightning Greaves
Free Artifacts-
4x Ornithopter
4x Chrome Mox
4x Frogmite
Countering-
4x Mana Leak
4x Assert Authority
Card Drawing-
4x Thoughcast
2x Thirst for Knowledge
Mana-
4x Seat of the Synod
4x Talisman of Dominance
15x Island
If you want to see the cards, go to MagicTheGathering.com and click their "card of the day" link to open an Auto-card window, and type the name of the card you're looking for. Oh, and by the way, all ideas I post here are copyright of ME, unless otherwise noticed. So don't run off to some Magic strategy site with MY ideas.
On Religion, And What Not...
Hello. As promised, I shall now post my views of religion. Please hold whilst grab them...
Okay, back. Well, I found my old rant on the subject, but decided that I could do better than that. So, all that work was for nothing. Oh well. Here goes.
So, what is my take on religion? Well, this is a complicated subject, so I'll take it as carefully as I can. Ummm.... Everyone's right. Well, sorta. Obviously, the parts that say "Those who don't believe exactly what we say are wrong".. They don't fit. Or maybe they do. Think of it this way, and I like this metaphor a lot. God, or whatever, is SO immensely huge that no one man can fully comprehend his nature. The metaphor is this. Imagine a GIGANTIC, fixed rubik's cube. And by gigantic, I mean planet sized, if not more. So, you're standing on this cube, and all you can see are red squares all around you. Based on your limited knowledge of this cube (assuming no one had told you it was of the Rubik's variety), you would probably picture the cube as being entirely red. And see the other sides, your side's edges, as being dangerous, because they are all completely perpendicular to your environment. Any person on the other side, seeing, oh, say, white squares, would imagine the cube to have nothing but white squares. If the two of you were to see each other in some non-rubik place, you might get into heated arguments as to the nature of the cube.
Well, its not good perfect, but you get my drift. God, Allah, whatever is simply too big for there to be one correct answer as to his nature. Of course, the saying "Jesus (or whatever deity) is the only way" still remains true, because everyone is getting saved through the same thing, its just got a different name. It's all just different sides of the same whole.
So, here I am, going off about all this, without divulging my own secrets. What do I believe? I'll tell you what. We create our own order. There is no external God looking down on us and telling us what to do, aside from an everlasting spirit, connecting all people together. This spirit has no will of its own, only the collective will of life, to survive and perpetuate. It works for us, though, and we can bend it with our own will to make subtle changes. Or perhaps even great ones, if you believe in it enough. That is the key, of course. You need to believe with a 100% certainty that you can affect this change. If you do, you can do, quite literally, anything. I've often tried to circumvent gravity this way. Never succeeded, but I'll let you know when I do.
Okay, enough depth for now. In lighter news, the 'complicated' news from my last post involves me losing my girlfriend of three months. Right now, I'm feeling unloved, and I don't think one woman will be enough. So I am creating a harem for myself. If you would like to join, please let me know. I'll see if there's a place for you in my organization, and though I am definitely not racist, I do reserve the right to deny entry for other "non-Politically Correct" reasons. For instance, NO GUYS. I know its the 21st century and all, but too bad. Guys can go form their own harem, far from me. Anyway, I look forward to your responses. Coming soon: the Greg's Blog Premiere of "Sex, Lies, And Small Brown Rodents." It's a good read. Okay, later all.
Okay, back. Well, I found my old rant on the subject, but decided that I could do better than that. So, all that work was for nothing. Oh well. Here goes.
So, what is my take on religion? Well, this is a complicated subject, so I'll take it as carefully as I can. Ummm.... Everyone's right. Well, sorta. Obviously, the parts that say "Those who don't believe exactly what we say are wrong".. They don't fit. Or maybe they do. Think of it this way, and I like this metaphor a lot. God, or whatever, is SO immensely huge that no one man can fully comprehend his nature. The metaphor is this. Imagine a GIGANTIC, fixed rubik's cube. And by gigantic, I mean planet sized, if not more. So, you're standing on this cube, and all you can see are red squares all around you. Based on your limited knowledge of this cube (assuming no one had told you it was of the Rubik's variety), you would probably picture the cube as being entirely red. And see the other sides, your side's edges, as being dangerous, because they are all completely perpendicular to your environment. Any person on the other side, seeing, oh, say, white squares, would imagine the cube to have nothing but white squares. If the two of you were to see each other in some non-rubik place, you might get into heated arguments as to the nature of the cube.
Well, its not good perfect, but you get my drift. God, Allah, whatever is simply too big for there to be one correct answer as to his nature. Of course, the saying "Jesus (or whatever deity) is the only way" still remains true, because everyone is getting saved through the same thing, its just got a different name. It's all just different sides of the same whole.
So, here I am, going off about all this, without divulging my own secrets. What do I believe? I'll tell you what. We create our own order. There is no external God looking down on us and telling us what to do, aside from an everlasting spirit, connecting all people together. This spirit has no will of its own, only the collective will of life, to survive and perpetuate. It works for us, though, and we can bend it with our own will to make subtle changes. Or perhaps even great ones, if you believe in it enough. That is the key, of course. You need to believe with a 100% certainty that you can affect this change. If you do, you can do, quite literally, anything. I've often tried to circumvent gravity this way. Never succeeded, but I'll let you know when I do.
Okay, enough depth for now. In lighter news, the 'complicated' news from my last post involves me losing my girlfriend of three months. Right now, I'm feeling unloved, and I don't think one woman will be enough. So I am creating a harem for myself. If you would like to join, please let me know. I'll see if there's a place for you in my organization, and though I am definitely not racist, I do reserve the right to deny entry for other "non-Politically Correct" reasons. For instance, NO GUYS. I know its the 21st century and all, but too bad. Guys can go form their own harem, far from me. Anyway, I look forward to your responses. Coming soon: the Greg's Blog Premiere of "Sex, Lies, And Small Brown Rodents." It's a good read. Okay, later all.
Just Popping in
I'm just popping in to say hey, I haven't forgotten about you guys. Although you seem to have forgotten about me, seeing as how NO ONE can guess my quote, except for our reigning champ, Dan, and I don't want him to win twice in a row. If no one does, though, I may just cancel the whole thing entirely. The quote thing, that is, not the whole blog. As for this entry... Not much has happened. Well, stuff has, I just don't feel like mentioning it on this blog. It's complicated, and a little more than embarrassing. So you don't get to know. Sorry. I'm just using the blog to vent. Ignore ths whole topic, okay? Thanks.
Speaking of stories, I'm being made to work on my old Detective Greg series (polishing them, converting them from AIM to real words, etc.), so now my writing time is being even FURTHER split. Maybe I'll post some of them later, so you can have a taste.
Also coming up soon, my views on religion. Stay tuned, this is one you don't want to miss. Yeah, this was a short entry, I'll try and make up for it later tonight. See y'all then.
Speaking of stories, I'm being made to work on my old Detective Greg series (polishing them, converting them from AIM to real words, etc.), so now my writing time is being even FURTHER split. Maybe I'll post some of them later, so you can have a taste.
Also coming up soon, my views on religion. Stay tuned, this is one you don't want to miss. Yeah, this was a short entry, I'll try and make up for it later tonight. See y'all then.
9.1.04
Lists
First up, a quick clarification. Yesterday, I closed with the same closing as the old "Where In The World Is Carmen Santiago" TV show. I thought this made a clever ending, as I liked the show and such. However, I neglected to realize that just above that I had issued my "Guess the Quote challenge." And I have already gotten one person who proudly guessed that the quote came from the Carmen Santiago show. Just so you know - THAT WAS NOT THE QUOTE.
THIS IS:
"I miss you cupcake..."
You must guess three things to be eligible for the grand prize (a blurb either about you or by you): The show name, the episode name, and the character it goes to. Good luck.
I recently worked on compiling a list of songs with color name in them. I'll post it here so you all can tell me what I'm missing.
Purple Haze
99 Red Balloons
Pink (by Aerosmith)
I'm Blue Da Doo Dee
Paint it Black
Back in Black
White Wedding
Its Not Easy Being Green
Mellow Yellow
Yellow Subarine
Any others? Lemme know.
Also, I'm looking for a few songs, and don't have any sort of file sharing thing, so, I rely on my friends. Here is my current list of needs.
Real Emotion - Yuna (FFX-2 opening song; I'm looking for the American version, not the ones from Japan (one in Japanese, one in English, but neither the one on my video game)
Boys of Summer - The Ataris (I really like this song!)
Boys of Summer - DJ Sammy (I really like this song!)
Real Folk Blues - ??? (The closing to Cowboy Bebop)
Good Vibrations - Beach Boys (It's been stuck in my head recently)
Where In The World Is Carmen Santiago - Rockapella (Another one I've recently thought of)
Alright, that's all for tonight. Later
THIS IS:
"I miss you cupcake..."
You must guess three things to be eligible for the grand prize (a blurb either about you or by you): The show name, the episode name, and the character it goes to. Good luck.
I recently worked on compiling a list of songs with color name in them. I'll post it here so you all can tell me what I'm missing.
Purple Haze
99 Red Balloons
Pink (by Aerosmith)
I'm Blue Da Doo Dee
Paint it Black
Back in Black
White Wedding
Its Not Easy Being Green
Mellow Yellow
Yellow Subarine
Any others? Lemme know.
Also, I'm looking for a few songs, and don't have any sort of file sharing thing, so, I rely on my friends. Here is my current list of needs.
Real Emotion - Yuna (FFX-2 opening song; I'm looking for the American version, not the ones from Japan (one in Japanese, one in English, but neither the one on my video game)
Boys of Summer - The Ataris (I really like this song!)
Boys of Summer - DJ Sammy (I really like this song!)
Real Folk Blues - ??? (The closing to Cowboy Bebop)
Good Vibrations - Beach Boys (It's been stuck in my head recently)
Where In The World Is Carmen Santiago - Rockapella (Another one I've recently thought of)
Alright, that's all for tonight. Later
Just A Quick One (Maybe Not)
Lots of shit going on, so I feel the need to post. First and foremost - I am now under the watchful eye of something called Kid Defender. Apparently this program is designed to defend me from kids or something, amiright? Actually, my mom has decided that she can't trust me because of some random occurrence while I was on vacation, someone accessed my uncles computer and "supposedly" (this is filtered through like 3 people here) got onto a porn site or something. While I DID go on his computer without permission (it was my last day in Tennessee, so my comp was packed up, and it was too early to wake up my uncle and ask him, and the thing was ON, and had been all night, in the room where I slept), I would have never used it to access porn or something like that. I know better, and , hell, I wouldn't know where to find any of that shit NOW. *Halo appears (the angelic kind, you X-Box junkies)* My other thought was, why is that such a big deal? I am, last time I checked, 19, and therefore old enough to view pornographic images, so there's nothing wrong there. Again, I'm not saying I DID such a thing, because I didn't, I swear to my neverending spirit. (Note to self, post views on religion later.) But yeah, because of that, I get my AIM convos logged, and my sites logged, and all sorts of invasions of privacy I shouldn't have to put up with. On one level I wonder if my mother is going to find this Blog. [obligatory ass covering]I bet she will, because she's that smart. [/obligatory ass covering]
I'm sure some of you may be wondering, "But Greg, you're a good kid, you don't do bad things, so what are you worried about?" I'll tell you what I'm worried about, in the form of a nifty anecdote. A few months ago (April, I believe), I met over the internet a Philly girl named Marie. She was very nice, and quickly became my first online girlfriend. (I'm still debating whether or not Kathy Blau gets the position of "All State First GF Ever".) But anyway, Marie was the first girlfriend I'd had in my adolescent life. I was a little embarrassed of this fact, and just, in general, didn't want my family to get wind of this, if I could avoid it. Of course, my brother had to find out and go running to my mom "GREG'S GOT A GIRLFRIEND!!" This did not make Greg happy. I really did not enjoy the ribbing I was getting for having an online girlfriend at dinner EACH AND EVERY NIGHT! It seriously pissed me off. And so, I've tried to avoid any other leaks about my online personal life. To this day, my mom still thinks I'm serious about Marie, when I haven't really had much of a conversation with the girl in months. That's why the monitoring thing bugs me. I am no longer free to hit on girls in the singles chat room without my mom knowing all the juicy details before I get done. Kinda ruins the mood, you know? '
Plus, the words "RECOMMENDED FOR KIDS 4-12" appear on the box. There is no one in this house with those ages.
In other news, I'm officially a college drop out. Remember in the last post, where I boasted about having reinrolled for the same classes I'd failed last semester. Well, it seems that by the time that post was up, I had missed the deadline to pay for them, and was unceremoniously DROPPED from the classes, with no chance to re-enlist. So, I'm still officially a High School Graduate, nothing more, nothing less. I'm going to claim this as my year off, and get a job.
Yes, you heard right, Greg is getting a job. Where, I'm not sure, but from what I've seen so far, I'm actually considering the full time position at EB Games. Not like I have anything better to do, right? And there are definitely worse jobs out there. (Like my last one, at McDonald's.) Getting paid to stock shelves and discuss video games 6 days a week sounds like fun. All I need now is a way to sneak FFX into the store so I can work on my game. But on the plus side, all the time I "waste" playing Final Fantasy or reading Electronic Gaming Monthly is now time spent doing job related research, much like Blockbuster employees are required to watch new releases when the come out to be well versed in the stock. My only question is how I'm going to settle my strong biases, though really, I don't have much, aside from "Halo is the only reason to buy an X-Box" (the video game type, you angel junkies). And in my opinion, even Halo isn't worth the $300 or more dollar investment Microsoft is asking. Just get an N64 with Goldeneye and Perfect Dark for maybe $150, max.
Congratulations go out to Dan ****** (last name omitted), who correctly named the source of the quote: "Cool? Daddy-o, we are FROZEN!" - Dask, from "Hot Rodding Teenagers From Dimension X", a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles episode. I suppose I should offer apologies to you all, as apparently, Daddy-o should have been "Daddio". But that's all part of the chase. Anyway, here is Dan's prize - a "Glowing" descrition by yours truly.
So, who is Dan? Currently, he's a UT student here in Austin, who regularly visits his Lakeway home, helping me keep the mileage on my van down. He is a networking genius, except he cannot seem to get my computer to read his on the same network. Still, he knows more than me on the subject, and has become my family's go-to man when we find a problem I can't solve, but isn't worth the long distance to call my Uncle. He also puts these network skills to good use by being a hot hand at the stick in Starlancer (though, despite the fact that neither Matt and I were able to complete Mission 3 or 4 last night alive, he was unable to top out kill counts for the evening. (Matt and I stayed relatively close, though my massive dying may have given him something of an edge.) He is also a great sniper in FPS games like the ultra cheap Mobile Forces ($2 at EB Games), which frustrates me, because his sniping is faster than my locked on rockets, despite the prettier explosions mine yield. And I suppose that's Dan in a nutshell. If you want to know more about him, you can contact him on AIM as ICE ATAIM (unless he doesn't want this, in which case, this blurb will have disappeared in a few days, and YOU WON'T KNOW! *Cackles maniacly.*
Before I go, I suppose I need to set up a new quote for you all to guess. This one will be a little more recent, but hopefully just as obscure. Good luck.
"I miss you, cupcake." - Name the Show, Character, and Episode in question.
Good luck, everyone. (Except Dan, he's ineligable)
Okay, one more thing I've gotta do, you know what it is...!
DO IT ROCKAPELLA!!!!!!!!!!!
*Rocks out to Where In The World Is Carmen Sandiago theme.*
I'm sure some of you may be wondering, "But Greg, you're a good kid, you don't do bad things, so what are you worried about?" I'll tell you what I'm worried about, in the form of a nifty anecdote. A few months ago (April, I believe), I met over the internet a Philly girl named Marie. She was very nice, and quickly became my first online girlfriend. (I'm still debating whether or not Kathy Blau gets the position of "All State First GF Ever".) But anyway, Marie was the first girlfriend I'd had in my adolescent life. I was a little embarrassed of this fact, and just, in general, didn't want my family to get wind of this, if I could avoid it. Of course, my brother had to find out and go running to my mom "GREG'S GOT A GIRLFRIEND!!" This did not make Greg happy. I really did not enjoy the ribbing I was getting for having an online girlfriend at dinner EACH AND EVERY NIGHT! It seriously pissed me off. And so, I've tried to avoid any other leaks about my online personal life. To this day, my mom still thinks I'm serious about Marie, when I haven't really had much of a conversation with the girl in months. That's why the monitoring thing bugs me. I am no longer free to hit on girls in the singles chat room without my mom knowing all the juicy details before I get done. Kinda ruins the mood, you know? '
Plus, the words "RECOMMENDED FOR KIDS 4-12" appear on the box. There is no one in this house with those ages.
In other news, I'm officially a college drop out. Remember in the last post, where I boasted about having reinrolled for the same classes I'd failed last semester. Well, it seems that by the time that post was up, I had missed the deadline to pay for them, and was unceremoniously DROPPED from the classes, with no chance to re-enlist. So, I'm still officially a High School Graduate, nothing more, nothing less. I'm going to claim this as my year off, and get a job.
Yes, you heard right, Greg is getting a job. Where, I'm not sure, but from what I've seen so far, I'm actually considering the full time position at EB Games. Not like I have anything better to do, right? And there are definitely worse jobs out there. (Like my last one, at McDonald's.) Getting paid to stock shelves and discuss video games 6 days a week sounds like fun. All I need now is a way to sneak FFX into the store so I can work on my game. But on the plus side, all the time I "waste" playing Final Fantasy or reading Electronic Gaming Monthly is now time spent doing job related research, much like Blockbuster employees are required to watch new releases when the come out to be well versed in the stock. My only question is how I'm going to settle my strong biases, though really, I don't have much, aside from "Halo is the only reason to buy an X-Box" (the video game type, you angel junkies). And in my opinion, even Halo isn't worth the $300 or more dollar investment Microsoft is asking. Just get an N64 with Goldeneye and Perfect Dark for maybe $150, max.
Congratulations go out to Dan ****** (last name omitted), who correctly named the source of the quote: "Cool? Daddy-o, we are FROZEN!" - Dask, from "Hot Rodding Teenagers From Dimension X", a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles episode. I suppose I should offer apologies to you all, as apparently, Daddy-o should have been "Daddio". But that's all part of the chase. Anyway, here is Dan's prize - a "Glowing" descrition by yours truly.
So, who is Dan? Currently, he's a UT student here in Austin, who regularly visits his Lakeway home, helping me keep the mileage on my van down. He is a networking genius, except he cannot seem to get my computer to read his on the same network. Still, he knows more than me on the subject, and has become my family's go-to man when we find a problem I can't solve, but isn't worth the long distance to call my Uncle. He also puts these network skills to good use by being a hot hand at the stick in Starlancer (though, despite the fact that neither Matt and I were able to complete Mission 3 or 4 last night alive, he was unable to top out kill counts for the evening. (Matt and I stayed relatively close, though my massive dying may have given him something of an edge.) He is also a great sniper in FPS games like the ultra cheap Mobile Forces ($2 at EB Games), which frustrates me, because his sniping is faster than my locked on rockets, despite the prettier explosions mine yield. And I suppose that's Dan in a nutshell. If you want to know more about him, you can contact him on AIM as ICE ATAIM (unless he doesn't want this, in which case, this blurb will have disappeared in a few days, and YOU WON'T KNOW! *Cackles maniacly.*
Before I go, I suppose I need to set up a new quote for you all to guess. This one will be a little more recent, but hopefully just as obscure. Good luck.
"I miss you, cupcake." - Name the Show, Character, and Episode in question.
Good luck, everyone. (Except Dan, he's ineligable)
Okay, one more thing I've gotta do, you know what it is...!
DO IT ROCKAPELLA!!!!!!!!!!!
*Rocks out to Where In The World Is Carmen Sandiago theme.*
6.1.04
About Time For Another
I've got had a bunch of shit on my mind recently, and I don't know where to begin. Let's see. *Looks over previous posts.* Whoa, I haven't said much in a long while. I'll start back in Philadelphia, about New Year's Eve.
Alright, here we are, New Year's Eve. Actually, I lied. I'm not in Philly right now, my dad has taken us to Mount Holly for the celebration. Supposedly, some fireworks or something are going off. We didn't get to see them, and let me tell you why. My stepmom, Wendy, is having "Marital Issues" with my dad. What this ends up with is that every decision is an argument between them, no matter how small. On Dec. 31st, the argument was about our evening plans, or lack thereof. Dad had suggested the Mount Holly idea, and Wendy said something along the lines of "You shouldn't go unless the kids agree with it." Well, of course we agreed with it. There wasn't really anything else to do aside from sitting at home and watching movies and seeing the ball drop. So off we went. And it was cold. And not very much fun besides. We looked around for a while, and then I decided to take the hint that dad wasn't, that Wendy was NOT happy with the evening, and tried to steer the expedition home.
Okay, so we got home, and pop in one of the movies we rented earlier - Midnight Run, with Robert De Niro as a bounty hunter (Sweet job, and an alright movie, too). We get to 5 of midnight and decide to switch to Dick Clark's Rockin' New Years Eve on the TV. We watch the ball drop, and Wendy sends Dylan (her son, my stepbrother - he's about 12) off to bed, and follows him upstairs. The rest of us (me, my dad, and my two brothers) decide to finish the movie. We'd left maybe 15 minutes in it, tops, and figured it was worth it to finish before we make the hour and a bit drive to my dad's Philly house. Not so, as Wendy would have it. She comes down 3 minutes into 2004, and seems genuinely surprised that we haven't left, though to my knowledge, she had given no indication that we were supposed to. "It's a new year, and I want you out of my life," she says, and we are kicked out unceremoniously. Very odd. All was well, though, as we were welcomed back in that Saturday as though nothing had happened. Actually, that just makes things even odder.
So anyway, I made it back to Texas, safe and sound. I finally had to break the news to my mom that I had failed all my classes last year - see below for those details. I re-enrolled in the same classes, only at different times, so I only face the rush 2 times a week, instead of the 9 from last year. Yippee. Better hours means more free time for Greg, meaning more time to work on my story, which I SHOULD be working on now. Its okay, though, I got it all up here. *Taps the side of his head, creating a cartoony hollow sound.*
Just an update on the games front - I've gotten regular access to a PS2, and since I don't start school for a few days, it gives me a chance to catch up on my own personal goals. Such as writing my story, which, I'm sorry to leave you, but I am off to work on RIGHT NOW!
Alright, here we are, New Year's Eve. Actually, I lied. I'm not in Philly right now, my dad has taken us to Mount Holly for the celebration. Supposedly, some fireworks or something are going off. We didn't get to see them, and let me tell you why. My stepmom, Wendy, is having "Marital Issues" with my dad. What this ends up with is that every decision is an argument between them, no matter how small. On Dec. 31st, the argument was about our evening plans, or lack thereof. Dad had suggested the Mount Holly idea, and Wendy said something along the lines of "You shouldn't go unless the kids agree with it." Well, of course we agreed with it. There wasn't really anything else to do aside from sitting at home and watching movies and seeing the ball drop. So off we went. And it was cold. And not very much fun besides. We looked around for a while, and then I decided to take the hint that dad wasn't, that Wendy was NOT happy with the evening, and tried to steer the expedition home.
Okay, so we got home, and pop in one of the movies we rented earlier - Midnight Run, with Robert De Niro as a bounty hunter (Sweet job, and an alright movie, too). We get to 5 of midnight and decide to switch to Dick Clark's Rockin' New Years Eve on the TV. We watch the ball drop, and Wendy sends Dylan (her son, my stepbrother - he's about 12) off to bed, and follows him upstairs. The rest of us (me, my dad, and my two brothers) decide to finish the movie. We'd left maybe 15 minutes in it, tops, and figured it was worth it to finish before we make the hour and a bit drive to my dad's Philly house. Not so, as Wendy would have it. She comes down 3 minutes into 2004, and seems genuinely surprised that we haven't left, though to my knowledge, she had given no indication that we were supposed to. "It's a new year, and I want you out of my life," she says, and we are kicked out unceremoniously. Very odd. All was well, though, as we were welcomed back in that Saturday as though nothing had happened. Actually, that just makes things even odder.
So anyway, I made it back to Texas, safe and sound. I finally had to break the news to my mom that I had failed all my classes last year - see below for those details. I re-enrolled in the same classes, only at different times, so I only face the rush 2 times a week, instead of the 9 from last year. Yippee. Better hours means more free time for Greg, meaning more time to work on my story, which I SHOULD be working on now. Its okay, though, I got it all up here. *Taps the side of his head, creating a cartoony hollow sound.*
Just an update on the games front - I've gotten regular access to a PS2, and since I don't start school for a few days, it gives me a chance to catch up on my own personal goals. Such as writing my story, which, I'm sorry to leave you, but I am off to work on RIGHT NOW!
1.1.04
Welcome To The World Of TOMORROW!!!
Alright, it is now 2004. Time for another post. I am so bored right now. It's just terrible how weird this stuff is. God, I don't know what is going on right now in me. Hrm.... My Game Boy has been very odd as of late.... You know what? Fuck it, I am so tired right now, I cant concentrate. Maybe later. God, I'm sleepy, or something.
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