WHAT AREN'T YOU GETTING?
GAWD!
But, yes, I am excited to say I'm not just making this up and even more excited to inform you that one of the scripts I'll be recording is about bacon.
Bacon: The Food of Joy.
And it is delightfully, sexily over the top, a state in which I reside, at all times, hence my oft overused hyperbole.
Is there a regular, non-hyper bole?
I'm going to check...
Hm.
According to dictionary.com it's the stem or trunk of a tree.
Hm.
Well, that makes absolutely no fucking sense...
Assholes.
Anyway, yeah, one's about bacon, and one is about popcorn chicken and the third is about tomatoes...but I haven't read that one yet.
I'll do that now!!!
Okay, the tomato one is pretty funny too.
And ALL THIS came from my superhot home studio set up.
WOO!
That's on Wednesday, and, tomorrow, I have an audition for audible.com which sounds kind of bland, but, perhaps I can bring some sizzle.
Because that...is what I do...bring sizzle.
Would you like some sizzle?
:::call me:::
In other news, Hurricane Sandy did nothing to affect me.
Nothing.
It's getting to the point where I am starting to feel guilty about telling people this because so many have been totally fucked by this thing.
But, yeah, nothing.
We had some rain.
And my pizza place wasn't delivering.
Skipping the rest of that; the Halloween party was a success, even though about a quarter to a third of the people there were either friends of friends or friends of friends of friends.
All good people all having good fun.
Special shout out to Fitzy for opening and then pretty much closing the festivities despite knowing a total of two people at the whole thing.
And also for letting me call her "Fitzy".
Say it alud, it's awesome!*
FITZYYY!!!!
Love it.
Jen and I are still carving our way through the zombie (and J'Avo) hoards in Resident Evil 6. We're two final chapters (Leon/Helena's and Jake/Sherry's) away from the "end"**. All in all, I think hearing all that negative shit about the game before I played it helped me to get over it, that, and the fact that a lot of it was just whining about nothing. I will say that split screen is balls for someone with eye problems and the plethora of insta-kill moments get real old, real quick, but, other than those shitty patches, the game has been great, and the complaint that they "tried to put too much into this game" is fucking stupid.
VIDEOS GAMES SHOULD BE A LONG TERM INVESTMENT AS FAR AS ENTERTAINMENT GOES.
That's like complaining about having TOO MANY ORGASMS during intercourse.
Idiots.
So, hopefully, in the near future, Jen and I will wrap this up and find out what in the blue fuck is going on.
But not next Sunday...because I'm seeing the new Bond movie.
And, the day before THAT, I'll be five feet from my apartment, seeing Eugene Mirman and some comics who aren't Eugene Mirman at P.S. 1.
Feeling rambly.
Would like to go home now.
I should have Resident Evil: Damnation waiting for me.
If it is anything like Resident Evil: Regeneration...well, it's going to be unworthy of comment.
Then, once that is out of my house, I shall start getting Community, as everyone in the world has seen it and loves it and shut up I'm going to fucking watch it.
Chris and I recently watched Young Adult, which was...all right, I suppose. Both Charles Thorn and Patton Oswalt did a great job with what they were given, but they weren't given a whole bunch.
The plot focuses around a chick who had a thing with a dude in high school, but as soon as she sees that he's had a kid and is happy with his wife she goes back and tries to "free" him from the relationship.
Has this actually happened to people?
Who would do that?
Then again, who would do space docking?
Enough people that it has a name, so, moving on.
The ignorant wangbanger that has STILL remained here at the Hospital like a tiny clot of feces stuck in one's ass hair is always talking about martial arts.
All the time.
Like he is a master of the arts or something.
He's a fubsy, 50-something, bald Latino guy.
I'd like to hire a ninja to come and kick his ass so I can hear him talk about how exquisite his style was when he inevitably calls his moron, subhuman friend to talk about it.
Ugh.
These guys are so ratty. The way they talk and relate to the world and their voices and the stuff they talk about...just...ugh.
Dog farts.
Those guys are dog farts.
And the one dude's voice sounds like a Yoda made of scabs.
Like, imagine if Yoda was slightly retarded and had a thicker, rougher voice.
This assbag sounds like that.
And every thirty seconds he snorts snot back up his nose rather than blowing it like a human.
Ugh.
The fact that I haven't burned these bastards to death speaks volumes about just how tolerant and loving I am.
But that fact that I think and talk about doing so so often probably does not.
Oh! That's something the fucking hurricane did! I was going to hang with Phil and get him on my fucking podcast b ut shit got so fucked up that it never happened.
Fuckballs.
What a bitch.
Sandy, not Phil.
Phil is eyes deep in editing hell and it's all his fault. Three books in three months...what kind of psycho enters into that Devil's Pact?!
LUDICROUS!!!
MAD LUDICROUSNESS!!!
All right.
It's 10:45.
Fuck off.
*But you MUST say it like a jocular uncle opening his arms to hug a well-loved nephew he hasn't seen for years.
**The fourth and final campaign...Ada Wong's.
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