Wednesday, January 31, 2007

The Dialog: Tom and his PS3

Game Time: 2.25 hours

"Fuck" - 27 times
"Dammit" - 16 times
"Jesus Christ" - 9 times
"Doh!" - 8 times
"Who is this asshole that keeps killing me?" - 3 times
"Wow. That happened quick." - 7 times
"What's it talking about?" - 2 times
"Wow. I just killed somebody. Unfortunately I'm on fire." - 1 time
"Fucker. You scared the shit out me buddy." - 1 time
"Hey! I got a ranking of Corporal.. three little dots.. for my exemplary achievement. Or maybe to just keep me playing this game." - 1 time
"Where the hell did that come from?" - 4 times
"Bring it on!" - 2 times
"I'm just hitting all buttons. Maybe I can give 'em an elbow or something." - 1 time
"Why am I bouncing up and down?" - 1 time
"Tomfoolery. Heh. That's a good name." - 1 time
"Am I in last place? Oh yeah baby. Second to last. That's good." - 1 time
"I just commited suicide. Apparently." - 2 times
"How did I get over here?" - 1 time
"I thought I understood that map, but... I don't quite get that map." - 1 time
"I'm fighting against these little viruses in a petri dish now" - 1 time

Sunday, January 28, 2007

Kitchen diaries

This video has inspired me to figure out how to post YouTube videos on blogs. All in all the hardest part was overcoming the challenging word verification safety feature.

Saturday, January 27, 2007

Tom Finally Pulls the Trigger on the PS3

Tom, my dishy husband, returned home last weekend with a PS3. My eyebrows shot up in surprise. Tom was surprised I was surprised. After all, he had "mentioned" he was "going to Best Buy to pick up a PS3." Yes, except my boy had maintained a solid five-year-every-Saturday streak of "smack-talking" that he was "going to Best Buy to pick up a [video game of some sort]."

His threats had always been empty. I was suckered in by statistics. I tell you.

Tom demonstrated advanced skill getting the PS3 out of the box and installed. He may have captured the high score for set up. His speed with multi-colored wires and male-female connectors shocked and amazed. Unfortunately, he got cocky. This became apparent, Game One, when he lobbed a granade onto himself. Tom's character (ChrisPike) also has been doing a lot of flailing around on the ground. He drops and rolls whenever threatened by the weird-looking evil creatures.

On Friday, Tom took the day off work. He had some "things to do around the house." When I called home around 3 pm, I was not particularly astonished by the gunfire punctuating our conversation.

We'll see how much a solid day of warfare has improved ChrisPike's performance. More on this later.

Saturday, January 20, 2007

Memories of the Seventies... Gartz Crashes the Garden Party

My brother Sethie, in a fit of sheer improvidence, selected "Dare."

Ady, Kissy, Lisa, Cerice, Missy and I cackled and hastily put our heads together. The think tank had a two-minute timelimit to come up with something truly scandalous.

Muffled conversation ensued, then some high-fiving. Sethie looked on uneasily.

The ladies attending a fancy neighborhood garden party paused their conversations and lifted their eyebrows. A blond boy in an enormous sombraro and a grass skirt hula'ed his way across the patio. My mother was mortified.

Thursday, January 11, 2007

Recounting Yesterday. One Funeral, Two Cars, Three Noteworthy Incidents

Two cars. Car 1 contains my Uncle Andy, Uncle Ronny, Aunt Bonny and my grammy. Car 2 contains my dad, my mom, my grampy and me.

Incident 1:

Failing to notice five signs for the upcoming jug handle, Dad shows off his lightning reflexes. He does a Jersey Sweep across three lanes of traffic and whips off the exit. Car 1, caught unaware, misses the turn. It is only then that it is realized that no one has exchanged cell phone numbers. We break out Plan B: Park on the side of the highway. Disregard the four lanes of 60mph traffic squealing past. Wave and scream at every white Chevy mini-van until successfully reuniting with Car 1.

Incident 2:

Car 1 takes the lead. Everyone who knows where we're going is in Car 1. Meanwhile, in Car 2, Dad, the driver, punch-buggies Grampy, who is riding shotgun. We are on the Cross Bronx Expressway in heavy traffic. Despite all the screaming coming from the backseat, we miss the turn onto Route 95. Car 1 disappears down the exit ramp. The screams from the backseat in Car 2 get louder.

Car 2 exits as soon as possible. We are now driving around in the Bronx. No worries. Someone gave Mom directions to the funeral. We breathe a sigh of relief. Mom pulls the paper from her purse. Printed in 16-point type in the middle of the paper it says, "Go to Long Island. Turn right onto Castle Avenue. Turn left into the cemetary." Grampy maintains a running monolog about how he beat up a kid in the park when he lived in the Bronx. He was a scrapper.

I call up my friend Erin, who grew up in Long Island and is our only hope. She gets us on the bridge. Finally, Car 1 answers their cell phones. We're back in business.

Incident 3:

After the funeral, Wendy invites us to her house in Connecticut. She hands out copies of MapQuest directions to everyone. We get back in the cars. Dad refuses to relinquish the wheel. Somewhere in Long Island City, it is noticed that Dad is not following the provided MapQuest directions. He confidently announces that he is "Following Richard, who is in the silver Honda SUV up ahead."

About a half hour and many, many, roads, bridges and tolls later, we are entirely off the MapQuest directions. It is approximately then when Dad discloses that he really didn't get a good look at the driver of the silver SUV and may have been premature in assuming it was Richard. He mentions that he saw the driver's reflection in SUV's side mirror and the driver may in fact be Latino. Unfortunately, when last seen, Richard had been wearing a yamika and looking distinctly not Latino.

I went to bed very early last night.

Saturday, January 06, 2007

Music Award Show / December 2006

Best Band Name:
Scissors For Lefty

Best Only Accessible Song on an Album:
Misuse Their Bodies by Beep Beep

Best Singer from a Trailer Park:
Jim White

Monday, January 01, 2007

The Mystery of the Green Red Light

My dad was out in the shed and he found a pair of old sunglasses. They were Beatles-style, round-framed glasses with ruby red lenses. He was immediately attracted to them.

Dad decided to drive to the store wearing his new specs. After he passed through the intersection in the center of town, he began to suspect he had run a red light. There had been squealing brakes and cursing. What was confounding was that the light had clearly been green.

The quandry resolved when Dad looked at the lighted sign on the bank. It looked green in his glasses. Normally it was red.

Case closed.