Total Drek

Or, the thoughts of several frustrated intellectuals on Sociology, Gaming, Science, Politics, Science Fiction, Religion, and whatever the hell else strikes their fancy. There is absolutely no reason why you should read this blog. None. Seriously. Go hit your back button. It's up in the upper left-hand corner of your browser... it says "Back." Don't say we didn't warn you.

Tuesday, May 23, 2006

The other shoe drops.

Today was going to be a "good" blogging day. I have most of a lengthy post written that discusses physics, good intentions, and practicality. It also includes a plethora of links to things that are both informative and amusing. I was planning on finishing it this morning... but then the transmission in my car decided to go bad. So, I got to spend what would have been blogging time discussing transmissions with a large man named Mike who, despite the relative differences in our educational levels, is now making more money than I will ever see in my natural life. This certainly could be used to construct an argument about our relative intelligence levels that I would not, personally, find at all flattering.

In any case, once more, I am behind. So, instead of a post with decent analysis, you instead get a source of petty amusement. A long time ago I mentioned a rather amusing set of flash animations at the site Madness Combat. Recently, the site has been under renovation and so the animations have been inaccessible (though most are mirrored elsewhere). That said, I've become aware of something even better: Madness Combat the Flash Game. Seriously, you can find it right here. What's the point? Well, put simply, to live as long as possible while fending off a truly ridiculous number of opponents. Is it fun? Oh yes. Is it easy? Oh, hell no. It is in fact quite difficult. So, if you're looking to kill some time, and feel disappointed that I'm not helping much in that, have no fear. Plenty of time-suckage is available elsewhere.

And check back tomorrow- hopefully by then shit will stop breaking loose around here.

UPDATE: Got a call from the mechanic regarding the diagnosis of my vehicle. To put it succinctly, if I were any more fucked, you could call me Paris Hilton.

Hey, how's that for an inappropriate metaphor? I'd assure you that I'm really much nicer in person, but I'd be lying. I am not having a good day.

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