RPG Articles

Here is where I’m chronicling my vida hobo.

You can also roll over there to see my response to this.

It doesn’t really matter who is sticking what in your hooha, or vice versa. I simply want your hyper-herpes to engage and make you combust.

Thanks.

You are only 53MB in size, yet you install like a three gig hooker of a framework.

Suck it honkies!

Is it honkies or honkys? Doesn’t matter. Yes, I am quite white, by the way. That means it’s ok for me to say honky.

Seriously though, I’ve never felt inspired by an election before. I hate the very idea of being governed, and he still inspires me. Unlike some, I’m pretty sure he isn’t The Second Coming, which is to say the world’s most perfect person, but I definitely like most of what I’ve heard so far. We’ll see how it all shakes out in the coming years.

Also, it’ll be refreshing to have a President that can fucking talk. Bush sounds like a puddinghead, even when sane words come out of his mouth, and McCain is just as bad. Clinton was a good speaker. Bush the senior was ok, but he had a bad voice for it, though not as bad as his son’s. Reagan was a good speaker too, from what I recall. Well, you know, until he pretty much disappeared after the whole brain thing. If nothing else, Obama is an amazing speaker, which is great to have in a President.

Oh, and the people complaining about the $120k tax re-definition thing, shut the hell up. First off, it isn’t like you’re elected and your plans are immediately adopted, since this isn’t a dictatorship just yet. gHod knows we tried, but apparently only just under half of America liked that idea. Secondly, you probably haven’t even looked at what it would actually mean for you, or weighed it against how you feel about the social contract. I haven’t, because I make very little money, currently, and all of my views are going to be distorted by that.

Ok, on with the day.

I am now lactacting, generating dark green milk in blissfully small quantities. Apparenly this is only true of the left nipple.

Presumably I am now host to some form of gremlin.

From: USA News (so it MUST be legit!)

Subject: Stimulate her grotto better

I can’t imagine calling a vagina a grotto, but maybe that’s just me.

Of course, now I can’t stop thinking about doing exactly that.

So, the other day, a client wanted to know more about gmail. I was excited, since gmail is pretty awesome. So I’m showing her how to use labels and the general flow of things, all in my personal account mind you, then I start showing the affiliated bits, like the calendar. Then I click on google docs, wherein I have a document titled “Don’t stare at her tits”. You never know how someone is going to react, so I “accidentally” closed that tab, and we signed her up for her own account so that she can write embarrassing titles to her own docs.

That, dear friends, is why I don’t normally access my deliberately personal accounts in front of clients.

Why is it that, after this long to imitate your competitors, indeed your betters, updates are still so awful?

So yeah. It seems there’s an old type of scammer/beggar being reintroduced into the wild. The “desperately need gas money to get home” girl.

First I was at Wal-Mart, and a lady materializes behind me to give me some sob story about how she’s out of gas, has a screw in her tire, and her sister won’t get off work for like six hours. Caught flat footed I just sort of stared at her for a minute, then the ruthless machine of the mind took over, processing how likely it is someone would drive to a store, apparently to buy nothing judging from the total lack of bags, when the gauge is on vapor. I felt kind of bad for her, but the overall evidence lead me to the ol’ negatory response and I went my way. As I got in my car I saw that somebody apparently bought her act because they were going inside, presumably for cash, and she was following them with this look on her face that’s tough to convey.

She was looking down, and had this grin, this entire face expression really, that just screamed “Hah, got you chumps”. It was unsettling. The next day I was thinking I may have been wrong, people are often pretty stupid, maybe driving to the store is a religious ritual or whatever. I stopped by Fred Meyer’s to deposit a check, and there she was. Same clothes, with what I can only call a meth-hulk in tow, spinning me some story about how her car broke down and they need a ride to the MAX station.

So yeah, good times.

That was a few days ago. Today I stopped at the same place to deposit some more checks, and lo’, an all different girl is begging people for “gas” money.

Sigh.

I damned near forgot to talk about this, but I happened to be downtown during the end of the marathon, so I killed some time by watching people finish it. Two memories stand out starkly; a guy who had large trails of blood on his shirt, originating from the nipples, and an assclown yelling at people to suck it up and how they’d never be NAVY SEALS by God. He was charming.