I totally bought a keg of Boulevard Wheat for the party Saturday. Mmmmm…
I have a well documented, irrational fear of creepy little girls. This started with The Ring, which scared the hell out of me. Ever since then it seems like the creepy little girl has become the horror theme du jour. Obviously creepy little girls set something off in our primitive hind brains. At least mine.
So I’ve been bored as hell for the last few days. I’ve pretty much had nothing at all to do since Friday. So I started downloading games. Downloaded Call of Duty 2 and played that quite a bit. I think I’m almost done. Been fun, but a little repetitive. Last night I downloaded F.E.A.R. which I had seen ads for on Penny Arcade. Looked pretty cool, but I couldn’t help but notice that the cover featured a really, really creepy little girl. Long, stringy black hair, face down, white dress. The works.
I get the whole game downloaded and install it. It’s like… maybe 10:30pm? Start playing and she shows up immediately. Fuck it. Wait till it’s day time.
I can admit when I’m scared.
So this morning I get up with the resolve to kick that bitch’s ass. Get some F.E.A.R. going and it’s a pretty good game. The gun mechanics are pretty weird. I feel like I can’t miss even though the bullets seem to be going all over the place. No creepy little girl for a few levels and then there she is. Shredding the flesh off my team mates. She left noting but their bloody skeletons behind. So then I jump down into a corridor and she’s walking, slowly of course, right at me and everything around her is exploding. I get blown out the window, recover, go down into a warehouse and now whenever I turn around she runs out of view giggling.
Creepy little girls ALWAYS have to giggle. That’s how you can tell they are the embodiment of pure evil.
Demons I can take. Monsters, mutant apes, evil doctors, Nazis, rabid mega dogs, nightmares from the dungeon dimensions and all manner of undead are no problem. I might take a break now and then to let my heart slow down but it’s Not. A. Problem.
You can keep your fucking creepy little girls though.
Hello new iPod owners! You’ve been emailing me all morning. I hope you are enjoying your new iPods. vPod is right here.
I have to say, one of my favorite parts of Christmas for the past few years has been seeing you all suddenly start streaming in on Christmas morning.
Coheed just plain rocked. That’s all I can say. They just completely rocked.
Flee the Seen was great too.
New Amsterdams and The Living Things I could have done without. Time would have been better spent eating pizza. Or drinking less.
And now for the apologies:
Afentra, I’m sorry I hugged you so many times.
Lazlo, I’m sorry I hugged YOU so many times.
Everyone at the Beaumont Club, I’m sorry I hugged you so many times.
Steve, I’m sorry.
Dining room wall, I’m sorry.
I hope you’ll all forgive me.
This snow shit needs to stop now please.
For months the bottom rib on the left side of my ribcage has been hurting. I’ve just been ignoring it as one of those random pains you get as you turn old.
A few minutes ago I noticed that it was hurting pretty bad and I looked down. I am using it as a support on the edge of my desk to hold myself up while I lean back in my chair…
Jason: Browse Music
Car: Browse Music
Jason: Yea… that’s what I meant anyway.
Jason: *rocks out*
There aren’t many times in your life when something happens and you think, “That will affect how things are for the rest of my life.”
One of the first things that I thought Thanksgiving morning when my brother called me was that I’d never have a chance to introduce someone to my parents again.
On Thanksgiving morning, November 24th my father, David John von Nieda died. No real cause for death has been given but he has had heart troubles and surgeries for years and it seems he had a heart attack. He leaves behind his wife Lily and his daughter Caitlyn. He was 62.
My parents divorced when I was 11. My Dad drove off to California, stayed there a while, moved to Maine where he had lived long before and loved and eventually made his way back to New Jersey. My sister and I started seeing him once a week on Sundays. He would pick us up from church and we’d catch a movie, play games and just hang out. That went on pretty much until I got my license. I started driving my sister and I over to his place on Sunday but we stayed less and less long and eventually we stopped going. I moved to Kansas and lost touch.
The last time I talked to my Dad was about 6 years ago. I called and we chatted, caught up and promised to stay in touch. In the time in between then and now I had wanted to call many times but never had the balls to. As the gap got larger it seemed harder and harder to get back in touch. Last year my brother warned me that I might be running out of chances and he turned out to be right.
My Dad is who got me interested in technology and hacking. I use hacking here in it’s proper form, which is basically being curious about everything and wanting to know how it works. He was constantly working on something and I picked it up. Some of my earliest memories are of taking something apart and trying (and often failing) to get it back together. We built, or tried to build, everything imaginable.
Services were held Tuesday at the Brig. General Doyle Veteran’s Cemetery in Wrightstown, NJ. My Dad was a Coast Guard Vet. There was a short eulogy given by his friend Mike and then a flag presentation for Lily. It was all over in about 15 minutes and then we went to the grave site. Snow had fallen the night before so we were unable to see the marker but we saw the area where it was. A few minutes reflection and then we were off.
I’m sure I’ll always regret not talking to him more before he died but I think he was happy and I take comfort in that. And I take comfort in knowing the last thing I ever said to him was “I love you, Dad.”
Well, here I sit in Detroit. Our flight from Philly to Detroit was slightly delayed because the plane wasn’t there on time. That was okay. We still had 30 minutes to make the connection. Then some bastard hurt himself on the tarmac right behind our plane and that stretched things out another hour while they cleaned him up.
I was supposed to be back to KC around 1 something but now it’s gonna be 4 something and I hear it’s started to snow pretty bad there.
Funny thing, I hear the old RX8 is no good in the snow. Assuming that we make it home from the airport alive in Adam’s truck then I have to try to make it from his house to mine in the RX8 and there’s no fucking WAY I am going to be able to get up my driveway.
Not without shoveling first.
And look, it’s just started to snow in Detroit.
All I wanna do is go home and look at the glowing embers that are all that remain of my house and belongings. I’m assuming by now, of course, that the transformer behind the house that was glowing red on Saturday night eventually caught fire and burned down the neighborhood.
If you look close at the Photo Blog over there you’ll see a picture of the sign that leads to Camden, NJ. Murder capital of the world, rep-ruh-zent!
There was an axe murderer on my plane.
And I think I insulted the girl at the Enterprise counter.
And I’ve already put on like 10 pounds.
Welcome to fucking New Jersey.