I think I smell... hate.

Wednesday, February 23, 2011

Dear Reader: (engrish pun lemix)

I'm tired as fuck.  I promise I'll catch up on your blogs.

Love, the stupid fucking blogger with the stupid fucking blog on blogging is fucking stupid.

Yes.  There is a lot of stupid and a lot of fucking in the last sentence.  Not so much blogging.  Your herring, I make red.

Tuesday, February 22, 2011

A Marijuana Nightmare. And Haggar.

I awoke just now.  My heart was racing.  Easily 200bpm, adrenaline-fueled.
My friend smokes pot often.  I?  Rarely.  I'm a boozer.

So, we're walking around, near sub-terranean tunnels in this vast iceland hellhole of Indiana.  We're on campus, but it's still the conservative home of the KKK.  Anyway.

There's two smokables in rotation:  a big blunt on a toothpick, kind of like the way you see those samples of sausage at the grocery.  The other is your standard joint.  Both merrily burning away, I reluctantly pick the blunt.  Simply because it looks cool as hell and I've never smoked anything in that quantity before.  (The backstory, I'm a lightweight with the chronic. That's why I don't smoke often.  I'm completely useless after 3-4 hits)

I grab the toothpick and lightly pull the air with my lips not even touching.  I'm usually a 2-hit wonder, and a 3-hit K.O. when it comes to this, hence my very small pull.  To balance, I take a mouthful of whiskey and pass them off to the friend.  My friend pulls hard while offering me the roach.  I pass.  So now they're two-fisting the blunt and the roach.  I wield my ethanol bottle of glory.

We aimlessly walk.  I see many faces.  I can tell that they are faces of contempt behind their false smiles.  They are smiles, but none want to come near and talk.  They all pull away when we romp near.  This isn't good, but as long as they don't call the cops, I don't care.  I can't afford to be caught right now, I'm still technically on probation after being slapped with a public intoxication (which is a bullshit charge.  What, I can't be a drunk pedestrian?  I can't be a drunk driver?  Then what?  Sit in the bar until 8am?  That can't happen either.  Thank you, I'm glad that my tax dollars are funding your donut-fueled small-penis rage against people out walking around drunk instead of mowing stuff down in a car.  Fucking cops.)

Anyway, I'm looking for some sign of friendliness besides these smiles made of 100% feces.  None.  I try and subtly tell my friend we should go elsewhere.  They pick up on it.  We exit the labyrinth of underground hallways and whatnot to the open road and air around campus.  I immediately go find somewhere to sit while remaining hidden, that way if I do decide to pass out, I'll remain hidden while still able to see around me and whatnot.

I end up going to the middle portion of a subdivided road with a raised hill in between the traffic going one way and the traffic going another.  There is a large and fancy set of dividers that the snow has piled up to about 10 or so feet high.  I go over to the hill and start digging near a pine tree and then sit in the dugout while I occasionally peek out to see if anyone noticed me.

I start to get sleepy, so I fully wrap my trench coat around me while I pull my hoodie down (yes, I'm wearing three layers) the warmth really starts to tug my eyelids shut.  Suddenly I hear a sing-shouting sound.  I look in the direction of the noise.  It's coming from the entrance of the subterranean tunnels.  I can barely make out the scene.  It's my friend with both middle fingers in the air, doing a mock dance.  "Come and get me, fuckers", she seems to say.  She then starts running.  I whistle and motion my arm in the air.  Maybe we can both hide in the pit till whatever blows over.  She beelines towards me, and surprisingly fast.  No go.  I can see the lights now flashing red and blue.  God fucking damn it.  What you do?  Fucking shit.

Shit.  No time to think, run on instinct.  We cross the road, while the cop speeds down one side and pulls a U-ey to come straight back of where we would be if we ran forward.  We fall back and turn left.  Cop speeds down and pulls another U-Turn at the other end of the street.  We double back again, this time turning right.  Cop tries to stop, but ends up sliding down the street.  Halfway through the slide, the cop guns it and then goes back to the place where they did the first U-Turn.  This time we run forward.  Pull the enemy to you and fight them on your own terms.  We're almost home-free.  All we have to do is hop the median and dash past the park.  FFFFFFFUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUuuuuuuuuuuuu.........   Captain Ragecop's cruiser appears off to our side, going down a set of wide stairs.  My friend slips and I grab the neck of her coat and pull her up so we can try and jump the median.  I see the cop's window was open, and I hear them calling for backup.

I wake up at this point, face-down in my pillow, with my heart racing and my tired eyes throbbing.
As much as I hate dealing with pigs and the law, I'd say this is the best/worst dream in a long time.  There was a lot of primal fear, but there was also the fun factor of psyching out the cops.  9.1/10

Also, I want to see more youtube videos of Haggar combos.  After doing a few training missions and playing around, I can definitely see him being devastating.  But everyone wants to play with Wesker, Dante, and Sentinel... like pussies.

Welp, I think the adrenaline burst is catching up to me.  I'm back to feeling exhausted.  Back to nappy time.  We have high executives coming from the corporate office coming to visit tomorrow.  I suppose I should look good, even though I'm making minimum wage.  Good thing I have auto-defenses that make me laugh when I rage.  Such a shitty job and a huge joke.  But I'd lol hard at the person in my position, if I wasn't me.

Don't worry.  There'll be plenty of time to drink myself back into oblivion, come Friday.  /lesigh