This Week in Briefs, I'm not actually in my briefs (well, we all are, under our clothes, except Harry) and it's been more like two weeks since my last one, but just to keep it genuine, I'll only talk about this last week.
On Christmas, we all opened presents. I got a shit ton of books, and I don't think a single one disappointed me; there were missing parts of my sandman collection, hardbacks of awesome books I already read but never owned, stacks of discworld, and what represents my first chance to read Neil Gaiman's actual prose.
Maw and Paw bought me Strong Bad's Cool Game for Attractive People, all five episodes currently out, and let me tell you, if you miss monkey island, you won't feel cheated and used like with the recent Sam & Max games.
I bought myself Bioshock when it hit 3.99 a few days later, but let's just say that Lisa bought it for me.
The next day, Harry and Kerry and Ralphy Boy showed up, three people I hadn't seen in far too long. Oh, how we chatted and watched Dark Knight! Did I mention I got the Dark Knight and both Hellboy films? Lisa also got me Mario Kart, and days later when I played it, I thought it rocked. We brought it with us to this frozen holiday home (which is quite nicely heated this morning, even if it did take ten hours and two sleeping fart-emitters), and I plan to set it up once I'm done with this never ending blog post.
I hope nobody in Hollywood notices what I just wrote and gets any ideas.
At work, my boss told me I was doing a good job. What?! Job?! Told?! Yep, so now it's time to rest on my laurels. Of course, it won't last; all I need to do is pick up a can of beans and lactic acid sets in, and I think it's the one thing nobody is legally allowed to say, but the GROTESQUE ROTUNDITY might be getting in the way.
The sooner I can become Captain Awesome and pwn my job, the sooner I can tell my boss (who is one of only two or three gamers I know in real life) that I like bioshock, played spore, oh the fun in Fallout 3, yada yada, and generally enjoy the interaction. Right now, his job is to attempt to convey the owner's hot venom in a useful, constructive manner Maybe he should tell me I'm doing great and let the situation take care of itself? Ha, ha, ha.
So I had this crazy idea this morning. I was to sneak onto Martin & Mezz's laptop, create a restore point, and "fix it". This means getting rid of things like Superfetch, whose job is to cram your RAMgina with everything it can find until you can't move. On starting up, there were so many icons appearing in the tray, you'd get a frame rate drop just drawing them, nevermind the cyclopean bureaucracies they represent. Unfortunately, their admin password is actually a good password; it isn't their own name or "lovecraft" or "pooper" or anything respectable. So, no fps boost for you. It sucks, too, because my uncle Martin is prime gamer material. He would savour Bioshock like a puppy; this is the man that introduced me to Lovecraft and Clive Barker, and I think the last atmospheric game of mild horror he played was Diablo. This is a gaming crime! Had I the mulah, I'd sneak a fancy mobile card in here, but I think he's way too busy, what with kids and acting and reading thick thick books.
Well. So that was like, the 26th? Ah, nevermind. Today I had after eights, that's today. See you next week!
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