Why Hello There, Little Monkey

I was considering talking about the planning process for Nano Wrimo, but since I lack one at the moment, I don’t think that it would make any sense. I considered discussing my Halloween costume, but since there are people that would read it that shouldn’t know what it is yet, I decided against that. So what does that leave me to talk about? Well…

For one, if you can get the demo to Brütal Legend, you should get your hands on it. It’s a video game that stars Jack Black and a dozen other musicians and actors (including Tim Curry, who is the shit). Jack Black plays Eddie, a metal band roadie that gets sent to a world right out of heavy metal album covers (seriously, that’s what the game’s artwork is based on). He fights demons and battle nuns and stuff with a battle axe and a guitar (an “axe” guitar, for that matter, which he can shoot electricity from), and rides around in a hot rod he builds from spare parts. The acting seems pretty superb, the writing is hilarious, and the music is 108 tracks across various metal genres from 75 different artists (from Ozzy to Megadeth to bands you’ve never even heard of, unless maybe you’re Brandon or Ian).  If you’re not a fan of metal, you’ll still love it for the hilarious nature, and the relatively easy controls.

Although, seriously, the music alone is awesome.

So there’s that. Also, last weekend, I went out to the Sunset Bar & Grill with my roommate and his friend, where we ate nachos and drank beer (management even bought us a round). Which was fun and all.

Oh, and I totally high-fived a monkey.

Crystal the Capuchin

Her name is Crystal, and she’s a Capuchin. She apparently works in film and TV. Her handler here was in town with her filming something, and although I want it to be Y: The Last Man I don’t actually believe it is. I’ll still keep my fingers crossed there.

Either way, she totally knows how to high-five, so she was high-fiving people left and write. Saturday nights are awesome. I need more of them, I think.

Tom

Resist

So I suppose this is the post where I talk about the pile of blogs I find myself stuck in. I can make snarky comments about people’s mothers, suggest their level of inebriation surpasses that of a Navy sailor on shore leave, or even question their sexual appetites in regard to farm animals. But I won’t. I will rise above that, because that’s just how good of a man I am. Instead, I will post the agreement I am caught in (which sounds as though a blind chimp with A.D.D. typed it up on a Commodore 64):

When anyone adds a new post to their blog, above and beyond whatever post debt they may have accrued, all others will endeavor to update their blog within 24 hours of the initial post. Auto-generated posts pulling from twitter do not count towards the agreement. Leniency will be provided in case something comes up of course, but try to do your best to be prompt. Failure to update without good reason may result in us calling you names or insulting your mother. You have been warned.

Know what’s even more painful than reading it? Being part of it. Apparently, this means that if, say, Brandon of Extant Musings gets all hopped up on Zumas one night and babbles on about how “Jump” by Kriss Kross holds the secret to time travel if only you could listen to it inside out, I’m going to have to come up with something meaningful (someone has to) in the following 24 hours, or I get mocked. There’s no justice in this world.

Well, for what it’s worth, this is the list of the other fools that have gotten themselves mixed up in this Internet slaughter experiment (in no particular order, other than the order I stole borrowed the list in):

Belynda Cianci of Dimestore Romance,
Dave Halperin of Independent Thought Alarm,
Ian Muller of Aberro Specus,
Rachel Ober of Life & Times of a Female Software Engineer,
Brandon Schory of Extant Musings
Jaco Vermeulen of Jaco’s Random Writings

What it all comes down to is that you should go see their sites, and also keep your eyes trained here. I do plan on writing posts that don’t hinge on bitter thinly veiled fury, but I can’t really promise anything. A guy that can successfully write a haiku every other day for over a year is liable to do anything. For now, though, let this sate your appetite, and I’ll see you back here the next time I get sucked into writing feel creative.

Their drunken mothers
Smell like urinals and thieve
Sheep to lick them. Gross.

Tom