An Open Letter to Tropicana Juice Company

Posted on 31st January 2011 in Something Daily

Dear Tropicana,

Let me begin by telling you that I am not writing you for any reason other than to explain my love of your juices as fully as possible. I’ve been playing with the idea of telling the creators of my favorite things how much I appreciate their work, and I feel that your orange juice is too important a part of my life not to deserve a written congratulation and thanks.

Topicana Pure Premium no pulp orange juice has been a staple in my incredibly well-balanced diet for years now, not only at the breakfast table, but at the lunch, dinner, dessert, second breakfast, elevensies, and snack tables as well. I’m not claiming by any means that I drink nothing but Pure Premium; I’ve been known to enjoy the occasional iced tea, the incidental root beer, and the rogue Snapple from time to time. Tasty and wholesome as these beverages may be, their prevalence in my diet is simply dwarfed by the quantity of Tropicana that I drink. I typically go through a gallon in four to five days by myself, a time which is often shortened (to my chagrin) by my sip-stealing college roommates. To further elucidate my love, nay, obsession with your juice, I provide this helpful graphical aid:

My Beverage Consumption

As this graph clearly indicates, my typical daily intake of vitamin C is probably dangerously high (if such a thing is possible – I wouldn’t be surprised). In my college dorm environment, where supplies and money run scarce, I am often territorial with regard to my orange juice. I see Pure Premium as a life force, so when I witness my roommate wantonly sloshing the juice I (which I paid for) out of his glass and onto the floor, it is sometimes difficult for me to contain my frustration. To see another person throwing away the very source of my power as if it was nothing can be trying. To safeguard myself against future travesties of a similar nature, I plan to effect the stockpiling of as many gallons of your fine juice as I can in a secret location. I know that some of the meals I mentioned earlier aren’t actual meals, but I really do drink a crazy amount of Tropicana. I once got some kind of stomach ulcer thing from drinking too much at once (because it’s very acidic, did you know that?); I’m not ashamed, though. I wear my obsession with pride.

I’ve gotten to the point in my orange juice drinking career that I can taste the differences between the various popular brands. Eating breakfast at restaurants is typically a slightly disappointing experience, as I can often tell that they use a second-string brand of orange juice; tasting Simply Orange when I wake up just doesn’t cut it for me. It doesn’t have enough body. Florida’s Natural is pretty good, so good that the first time I tasted it, I considered the possibility that I could have found my new favorite juice. The one test that Florida’s Natural could not pass, though, was the test of time, as I quickly grew bored with its softer, fuller flavor. I drink Pure Premium above all others for several reasons:

  • The kick
  • The body
  • It tastes like an orange exploded in my mouth

The problem with the other brands I mentioned is that they can’t claim all of those things. Florida’s Natural has a great richness, and Simply Orange does in fact taste like a real orange. But Tropicana stands alone at the pinnacle of juicing with all three of these traits. Thus, when I taste that my breakfast restaurant has poured me a glass of Pure Premium, I often thank the waiter on behalf of my taste buds. This is, unfortunately, a bit rare, but I look forward to it all the more as a result. My typical (i.e. every single day) breakfast consists of nothing more than a bagel with cream cheese and a towering chalice of Tropicana Pure Premium, because that’s all I need to start my day. I often incorporate the towering chalice into other meals as well.

In summation, I’d like to thank your company for creating this juice without which, I firmly believe, the quality of my life would be severely diminished. Your orange juice brings tears of joy to my eyes. Thank you, and please never stop making this mind-blowingly fantastic juice. I’ll cry if you do.

With much sincerity,

Emmett Butler

comments: 3 » tags: , , ,

The Wild Tongue Eater Crab Thing

Posted on 30th January 2011 in Something Daily

I was talking about parasites with some friends last night and it reminded me of this one I knew of from a few years back. I learned about this through the School of Rock forums, where Paul had complete administrative control over people’s accounts and would change people’s bios and pictures to funny things. I forget who, but one person was given this picture of a fish with a little creature where its tongue should be (when I was messed with, I was given a naked, buff man in sunglasses…”keyboard players are gay,” hilarious). It turns out that photo of the fish is totally real, though – it’s this little crab-looking guy that swims up into a fish’s mouth while it’s eating, eats the big fish’s tongue, and then sits in place of the tongue and steals all the big fish’s food. That’s nuts, man. There are all these pictures of fish with little crab guys in their mouths if you look for it…just crazy. I’m not going to link to it, but you have more than enough information to Google it if you really, really want to.

I just did something without thinking (deleting the EFI partition for dual booting) that rendered my little 4-year-old white macbook unbootable yet again, so I’m in the process of fixing it for what seems like the hundredth time. I’m thankful that I don’t lose anything when I do stuff like that – it’s awesome to have a crappy old computer to monkey around on without any risk. It’s helping me learn a great deal, because half of the stuff I screw around with on that one, I completely stay away from on my pro, for risk of breaking something really badly and losing data (which isn’t really an issue either, due to my sweet backups, but it’s more hassle than I’d prefer).

I just received a large quantity of funk music from my roommate Leo, whose music collection is unrivaled in its various nature. I was getting quite bored of my library, having drifted into musical complacency, returning time after time to nothing but my very favorite albums. That’s no good at all, because you get bored and it makes you hate music that you used to enjoy because you listen to it so much. So a system shock of Jethro Tull and funk was in order. Some good ones: The Meters, The Budos Band, and Skull Snaps – and of course Sly and the Family Stone. I already knew them, though. And of course Jethro Tull’s Thick as a Brick and Aqualung are most certainly in my “Best Albums Ever Ever” list. Oh, and this organ trio called Niacin. They’re not funky, but they are awesome too.

comments: 0 » tags: , , , , , ,

My Completely True Origin Story

Posted on 29th January 2011 in Something Daily

The following was printed on the dust jacket of a book found in a comet’s impact crater on the Yucatan peninsula, near an ancient Mayan settlement. The contents of the book were not legible, as most of the pages had been eaten away by a corrosive jelly also present in the crater. The sides of the jacket were recovered, along with review excerpts citing the book as “The Sleeper Hit of the Millenium” and “A Lot Better than the Bible”. With the book were the charred remains of a Gameboy Pocket and a perfectly intact Namekian dragon ball.

I was born in 3096 inside a volcano on a distant planet to a pair of humans who were exiled from their home in the Great Spice Wars of 3094, both of whom I never knew. Vulnerable and scared in the heart of an active volcano, my life was saved by a tribe of nomadic robots, who took me and raised me like the organic son they never had. In retrospect, living among machines was sometimes difficult, but it was the only life I’d ever known. I was forced to find my own nourishment from the beginning, as my surrogate parents were not dependent on organic food. I subsisted mainly on small plants and starving animals that I could scrounge from the barren landscape. The robots taught me to read and speak in several robotic languages as they traveled the vulcan planet, their tribe in search of whatever scarce power supplies remained after the apocalyptic destruction of most of its surface.

I lived with these machines until my thirteenth birthday (which I was able to guess exactly, due to my lifelong training in mathematics), when I knew it was time to leave my family and seek my fortune. I hijacked a spacecraft from a small settlement not far from our tribe’s encampment and evaded their guards, who were understandably angry that I’d stolen their ship. With a few minor injuries, I managed to surpass my home planet’s considerable escape velocity. I charted a course for my parents’ home planet from half-remembered coordinates and legends that my robot parents used to tell me with their speech synthesis programs as I fell asleep in my youth. I traveled through space at near lightspeed for decades, passing the time by writing stories, composing electronic music, and reprogramming my ship’s computer.

As my ship accelerated, I saw the history of the universe unfolding outside my window – I quickly lost track of how many years would have passed back on my volcanic home. I thought of my tribe, wondering if I’d ever see them again, if I’d ever feel the cold caress of their steel arms, if I’d ever again challenge the younger machines in reciting prime numbers. I realized that, due to my speed, milennia had passed there; it would be a miracle if the planet itself even existed.

The journey was ill-fated. Apart from taking what seemed like centuries, the coordinates I’d been steering toward were not those of my parents’ ancestral home, but instead those of a planet made mostly of plastic. Thinking the planet might at least be habitable for a human, I attempted to disembark from my craft, and upon doing so quite nearly sunk about a hundred meters into the surface, the rubbery substance bending down with me like a trampoline. Walking on this surface proved difficult, due both to its strange tendencies and my lack of exercise for the preceding decades. I managed to traverse my landing site and find supplies for my ship, but, forgetting the care I’d been taught in my youth, I opened my helmet without checking the atmosphere first. I passed out immediately, and would have died right there, at the bottom of a hundred-foot indentation in a plastic planet light-decades from my home, if it hadn’t been for a cybernetic pterodactyl scout who happened to be passing overhead.

The pterodactyl extricated me from my predicament and brought me back to his plastic cave, gripping my limp frame between his talons as he flew for miles over the shining surface of that world. He nursed me back to health over the course of several of what I assumed were weeks, all the while not saying a word. To this day, I’m not sure if that cybernetic pterodactyl saved me out of the goodness of his heart or to attempt to eat me. Once I was healthy, I left his cave and made my way to my vessel, slowly negotiating the rugged landscape of this plastic world. To my dismay, my craft had been stolen by marauding horseshoe crabs, who were still kind enough to leave a note indicating that they intended to sell it for scrap.

Marooned on a desert planet with no food or companionship, my hope ran thin. I bounced up and down on the planet’s rubbery surface, in a vain last resort to free myself. Miraculously, the ground beneath my feet began to tremble as I bounced higher and higher, becoming a sea of tiny bubbles, massaging my tired feet. I saw the stars begin to accelerate backward, moving slowly at first, then faster as my planet-vessel began to move. With no control over where I was being taken, I could only hope that I’d end up in a habitable environment, and that the journey would be short enough for me to survive without food. I grew nervous as the stars flew by at impossible speeds, but continued to bounce, moving higher and higher with each jump, yet still constrained by the planet’s gravity.

My last jump, though, is one that I’ll never forget. I bounced to a height of several kilometers above the ground, suddenly breaking free of gravity’s pull. Panicked, I saw my life flashing before me as I spun out of control into the vacuum. Luck was on my side, though, as I found myself on a closed timelike curve around a pair of black holes. The universe replayed its history in reverse as I watched in awe, witnessing the synthesis of planets from dust and smoke, comets chasing their own tails, and a thousand suns changing colors faster than I could see. I was spit out of the black holes in the direction of a green and blue world that I could only hope was hospitable. To my amazement, the world was teeming with life, humans no less!

My feet touched the soft ground of this new world as I was set down gently by unknown forces, as if a consciousness greater than my own was guiding me. I initially had difficulty communicating with the planet’s inhabitants, as I spoke only bytecode and a few phrases I’d picked up from my adoptive parents’ speech synthesizers. Very much confused and alone, I was happened upon by a family of humans who took me in as their own. They gave me a name, food and tools to stimulate my mind. I’m now known as Emmett.

This historical artifact has been reproduced in the “about” section, because it’s pretty important.

comments: 0 » tags: , , , , , , ,

What do you mean, “There’s no sound?”

Posted on 28th January 2011 in Something Daily

The thing about electric gear is that, a lot of times, it doesn’t work right. Hard drives fail, CDs get scratched, files get corrupted, Gameboy screens get cracked, whatever. Accepting these failures as inevitable, it’s the job of the troubleshooter (or “tech”) to correctly diagnose the problem and then efficiently and nondestructively resolve it. Simultaneously working as a studio tech and being poor, I’m beginning to gain some real experience in beating what usually seems like an insurmountable issue upon first inspection, regarding both the school studios and my own personal recording and computer gear.

My new-used copy of F-Zero for SNES, for example, wouldn’t start when I loaded the cartridge, no matter how much air I puffed into the contact. This isn’t an issue for me anymore, though, for any game, as I’ve discovered that a bit of isopropyl alcohol and a cotton swab fixes that problem a good deal of the time (in my experience, 100 per cent of the time). I did something similar with my friend’s Double Dragon NES cart, whose contacts were actually coated on both sides with a thick layer of white paint. The paint wasn’t anywhere to be found on the body of the cartridge, which makes me think that someone deliberately painted the contacts to make it unplayable. Who would do that to Double Dragon? Rubbing alcohol got it right off, though.

Of course, this is a very basic example, but it’s indicative of my movement away from the panicked feeling of having something for which I paid a lot of money suddenly not function properly. My tendency is to go into crisis mode as soon as my computer, SNES, microphone, etc. starts not working – a strategy which typically compounds the issue rather than resolve it. As I learn more about the common fixes and methods of discovering the uncommon ones, I move away from this habit. I attempted to repair my $300 condenser microphone not long ago, and though it was panic that drove me to remove the casing, I learned from the experience.

I woke up this morning, booted my Linux partition, and found myself staring at a hung startup screen. I could feel a bit of the old panic, but I knew at least that my files were all safe on the Mac volume. The most important thing I could do at that point was carefully remember any and all changes that I’d made to the system between this boot and the last one. That, combined with a few well thought-out googlings led me to the realization that I’d inadvertently disabled the driver for my GPU, causing a hung boot every time the graphics started to load. At that point, as with most Ubuntu issues, it was just a package download of the right driver to make it all better. This was a scary experience, but I’m a better tech for it.

comments: 0 » tags: , , , ,

The Decemberists Could Stand a Bit More Rocking Out

Posted on 27th January 2011 in Something Daily

I got a chance to see The Decemberists at the Beacon last night, and it was wonderful! They’re another group that I’d never seen before, and the Beacon was as good a place as any to start off. We did have seats way up in the nosebleeds, unfortunately – about five rows from the back wall on the highest balcony. I had to lean forward and peer downwardly for the entire 90 minutes, but it was still a great show. Colin Meloy has a funny stage presence, and I really enjoyed the banter he had with a lot of the band. I’m not an enormously huge Decemberists fan, so I was a little worried that they wouldn’t play too many songs that I knew, but they ended up hitting a lot of them; “July, July”, “The Wanting Comes in Waves”, “O Valencia”, and “Sons and Daughters” were my highlights. They also did “The Chimbley Sweep” and it devolved into this big jam where Colin switched places with the drummer and the drummer came up and played harmonica in the middle of the song. And they did “A Cautionary Tale”, again stopped it halfway, and had some audience members come up onstage and reenact the battle of Trafalgar. Jen, who I went with, was freaking out over the course of the whole show, because apparently she’s in love with Colin. I don’t blame her, he’s a good singer. Great show, though. Unfortunately, I have no photos, as I came straight from a long, snowy day of classes, and I was about fifty feet above the band the whole time.

Let’s change the name of the Beacon Theater to the Bacon Theater.

I also saw Aziz Ansari (aka Raaaaaaaandy) at Think Coffee yesterday. He was just buying a coffee, looking furtive. New York is great.

comments: 0 » tags: , ,

Major Operation

Posted on 26th January 2011 in Something Daily

I went on an adventure last night to Zebulon off the Bedford L. I didn’t know what it was at all, but it turned out to be quite a nice little music bar. I felt bad not being old enough to order alcohol, so I left a monster tip. The music was great though, there was a jazz quartet, this crazy experimental octet, and a solo guitarist/singer, one after another. I’d never been to a show in that capacity before, and I really enjoyed it. No cover, just cool music.

My free time has quickly gone from overwhelmingly abundant to overwhelmingly absent. Yesterday was a lot fuller than my schedule of three classes would have me believe it was. Among other things, I put in motion yesterday my plan to double major in Computer Science and Music Techology, realizing that I would be selling myself completely short if I didn’t take advantage of these classes that I’m really interested in. It turns out that my ideas about how easy it would be to double major were pretty much totally wrong, but it seems that it’ll still be possible if I take some extra credits in the summer. It’s a bit of a long shot, but I would love to go from minor to major. I just really like the classes.

Speaking of, NYU administration came through again yesterday when I got to my Data Structures class and found that it was booked in the same room with another class (Basic Algorithms). There weren’t enough seats, so a lot of people (including myself) ended up standing in the back while the Algorithms teacher did half a class, then they all left and Data Structures got 20 minutes. It was pretty lame, as I was really looking forward to my first day. Still, the teacher said hi to me after class, told me I’d really be enjoying the material (after confusedly asking if I hadn’t taken it already), and honored my request for beginner CS students to tutor! I can’t wait! I think it’ll be very, very helpful for my education to teach computers as I’m learning them.

comments: 0 » tags: , , , , , ,

I’m A Hunger Artist

Posted on 25th January 2011 in Something Daily

I haven’t read Kafka in a while, at least not until this morning. I don’t think there are any authors in whose life and work I’m more interested, and I used to read his short stories all the time. I have the complete compilation of his stories, which includes all of his known works minus the few novels that he published or started (one of which I’ve read). That was The Trial, which is about a guy named K (who I think it’s safe to assume is essentially Kafka himself) who wakes up one morning to find himself being arrested for a crime he can’t remember committing.

Jemand musste Josef K. verleumdet haben, denn ohne dass er etwas Böses getan hätte, wurde er eines Morgens verhaftet.

That’s some good stuff. It’s not an intrigue about how he eventually uncovers this big conspiracy of memory erasement or anything like that; rather, it’s an expression of the helplessness Kafka experiences in his interactions with the bureaucracy. K. can never figure out who he’s supposed to see or what he’s been convicted of, but eventually (spoiler alert) is killed for an indiscernible reason. Actually that’s not a spoiler at all if you’ve ever read any Kafka. Some of my favorite short stories of his are In the Penal Colony, of course The Metamorphosis, The Great Wall of China, and A Hunger Artist, among many others. Those especially, though, are all fantastic examples of Kafka’s tendency to represent his own feelings of isolation and separateness from the rest of humanity. I just read one where the narrator is a bridge, sitting alone stretched across two cliffs for ages, when this traveler comes along and destroys him without a word, sending him to his rocky death. Classic Kafka. I love how accepting Kafka is of defeat; so many of his stories end with the narrator dying quietly, becoming less of a burden on his peers and/or family. Why am I drawn to these stories? I hope I don’t find out.

Other news: I’m trying to finish every SNES game I have (14) before I buy any more. Last night I succeeded at completing Mighty Morphin’ Power Rangers after trying the final Megazord battle about twenty times. I had been writing down the level passwords in my notebook, and decided to just get it done. Here’s proof (the game’s one “cutscene”, where the five rangers transform into the Megazord)

Oh yeah, and I spooned my roommate Justin last night while he was spooning his girlfriend Melody. Thus, I am King Spoon. Bow before me presently. And then leave my dominion.

comments: 1 » tags: , , , , , , , , ,

Donkey Kong Country

Posted on 24th January 2011 in Something Daily

Donkey Kong Country is not an easy game. I have this vague idea that I’m going to finish all of the SNES games I own before I buy any new ones, and starting with Donkey Kong I seemed like a good idea last night. It’s got physics that are kind of foreign to someone used to playing Mario Bros III, but even after getting around that fact, the game is just not easy. The level at the end of world III (“Millstone Mayhem”) was especially giving me some trouble. I have no doubt that I’m going to be able to finish DKC, but I’m also sure that it’ll take a bit of dedication. That and Chrono Trigger (which is going well by the way).

I went to the Upright Citizens Brigade again last night, this time bringing along a few roommates and Jen, who had all heard about it and wanted to see what was up. We left about 90 minutes before the show was scheduled to start, and we still ran through the frigid air to make it to a decent spot in the line. In the process of running, Eric, Leo, and I left London and Jen behind, as they were lagging a little bit. So we three got to the theater about fifteen minutes later, only to find that the 9:30 show had been canceled and another act had been tacked on to the 7 o’clock. We managed to get in (we were luckily the last three they let in), but London and Jen were too late! I was disappointed, and felt bad for running ahead, even though there was of course nothing I could have done about it. In fact, if I’d stayed with them, none of us would have gotten in. It’s just a good thing we ran, as we made it to the back row of the room right as they were coming on stage. It worked out, and I hope we’ll all be able to make it next time. So it was a good evening for me, and I got to bed quite early in preparation for my first day of classes.

comments: 1 » tags: , , ,

A Chopper Duel

Posted on 23rd January 2011 in Something Daily

Listen: King Crimson are awesome. I’m listening to Discipline right now, which is from the early 80′s, meaning that it’s halfway between things like Starless and Bible Black and things like Thrak in terms of how it sounds. There’s a lot of big bass (I’m pretty sure Tony Levin is on Chapman stick) and distorted guitars, along with King Crimson’s tendency to play these twisty, windy melodies in odd time signatures in unison (at this point Robert Fripp and Adrian Belew) and then having one person omit a single note from the pattern while they play. So they’re doing a unison sixteenth note pattern in 9/8, for example, and then one of them drops one of the notes from his pattern, meaning that he’s now playing in 17/16 while the other is still going in 9/8. And they keep going like this until their patterns meet up again, and then the one who dropped the note adds it back and they keep going. They do this in a lot of songs, including “Frame by Frame” and “Discipline”, which are probably the two best examples (and “Three of a Perfect Pair”). This video is a good example of that happening, from an awesome concert DVD that I’ve watched too many times. The whole song is, actually, but that part is especially crazy. I don’t really think I’m right on with those time signatures, but it was just an example anyway. Also, check out King Crimson’s amazing stage presence. Tony Levin in the power stance, Bill Bruford all calm and collected behind his huge kit, Adrian Belew doing some type of shuffly movement, and Robert Fripp being a cyborg. I saw him once at World Cafe Live, and he stood up…and waved at me. I was amazed to see him showing any emotion at all, let alone smiling, let alone standing up – while playing guitar! Pretty impressive for someone who’s half computer.

You Can’t Love ‘em All hasn’t updated in three whole days…what’s up with that? I need to know what’s going on!

I forgot to eat yesterday, and I made it to the end of my day around 12:45 AM, only then realizing that my stomach was growling and I couldn’t go to bed without eating something. Before that point, I’d had my customary bagel, cream cheese and orange juice (plus a strip of mind-blowingly scrumptious bacon) at about 11 AM, and a small L.A. Burdick hot chocolate at 5. And that’s it…for the entire day. I was in good company, which can apparently sometimes lead to forgetting to eat. But I was kind of dying by the end of the evening. So Eric made me some eggs, because he’s a great roommate. I need to get better at this, though – the fact that there’s food around at my ‘home’ home makes it easy to just eat whenever I’m hungry, but so far we’re not at the point here in NYC where we keep the kitchen stocked with anything that’s both healthy and convenient enough to suit my pre-class lethargy. This needs to not happen again. Eating is healthy, and I don’t want to perish in the middle of Concert Recording because I was too lazy to put some eggs and milk in a pan that morning.

For the first time in my college career, I was able to resist the temptation to buy a bunch of shiny new school books before the classes have even started. I realized something while book shopping the other day (with a little help from the above awesome roommate) – I need to be careful about which class textbooks I spend money on, because it’s my money now. I don’t really make that much. I need to save. So I stopped myself from spending hundreds of dollars on these huge music history anthologies, as well as not paying full price for my “Data Structures and Algorithm Analysis in Java” book (my awesome roommate has a copy he’s giving me for half price). It’s not necessarily that I won’t get these books, I just need to make sure that they’re good investments first, because I’ve been in more than a few classes with a 150 dollar textbook that I eagerly bought before the first class and then never used. I need to be careful, because I’m only going to get poorer as time goes on. Sweeeeeeeet!

comments: 1 » tags: , , , , , , , , ,

Sudo Take Me to New York

Posted on 21st January 2011 in Something Daily

I made it back to the zone last night, arriving at 9:45 totally exhausted and irritated from carrying my disgustingly heavy skateboard backpack apparatus. It was a long trip because of that. For whatever reason, I had an unfounded assumption that I would be able to grab some time to myself upon arriving at my room…no, people wanted to do shots. I didn’t, of course, but I ended up going to bed close to 2 AM after watching Amelie – fantastic movie, by the way.

My time to myself came when I woke up this morning, when I got to clean house obsessively, finally catch up on some Chrono Trigger, and grocery shop (meaning that I just bought bagels and cream cheese and orange juice. That’s pretty much what I mean whenever I say “groceries”). I’ve decided that I will hold myself to the rule of doing my own dishes as soon as I’m finished using them, and keep the kitchen as clean as possible on my own. Not because it’ll encourage people to be neat, more just because I’m compulsive about the kitchen being tidy for whatever reason.

Proof that I do go outside sometimes:

I played EA Skate for more hours than I care to admit today, because I figure that’s what this part of my break is for. If there’s any time to play video games for way “too long”, it’s right now. Skate is a really hard game for someone used to playing Tony Hawk Pro Skater. There are no button controls; rather, everything’s done by flicking the two analog sticks around. It’s a really tough system to get used to, but interestingly enough, the difficulty of the controls makes it a lot more rewarding when you do land tricks in the game. I feel like the controls of Skate mirror the actual act of skateboarding a bit more than those of Tony Hawk, if only because it’s based on a system of mimetic motions rather than just button presses. That having been said, I am very bad at this game. I get hit by cars very frequently, as well as hitting curbs and “spraining my head”…I don’t know, but that’s what the game said. It said my head was sprained. Now, wikipedia tells me that sprains affect joints and ligaments, and I’m pretty sure your skull isn’t either of those. I’ll give them the benefit of the doubt and assume that they meant the neck. You can’t sprain your head. Come on now.

It’s wonderful to be back in “the zone”. “The Bro Zone”. “The Brone”. “The Chill Zone”. “Room Nine Thousand Fifty”. “Room Over Nine Thousand“. Now let’s just get my mind back here with my body. Ok, sounds…..great!

comments: 2 » tags: , , , , , ,
« Previous