Son of a Bitch

Alright pressured into creativity again.

My body is in revolt. In college my metabolism threw punch after bloody punch at the spew of fried shit and alcohol that flooded my body. An accomplished and valiant warrior against the tide of unhealthiness.

But like all great fighters he's gotten old. Started to miss a few steps. No one can keep on winning forever. Have you seen Mohamed Ali lately? Not exactly stinging like a bee but he's dancing.

I'm gunna go to hell for that one.

So I beat my body into submission with Chik-fil-A and Miller Lite. The sad part is how surprised I was when the results started showing themselves.

My face went from a human form to that of a bowling ball. A small patch of me sticking out from the bottom of my chin. A small little patch of flesh mocking me in the mirror.

The gut didn't bother me. After running as a sport for over eight years college was a good excuse to just let go. The gut is more like a symbol of my freedom from the oppression of athletic expectations.

The problem is that along with the freedom fighter gut came squatters on my chest.

Moobs. Man tits. Or as they're called in my household, Phil Mickelsons.

So of course now I'm running again. A body that used to pound out five miles like it was nothing is now losing it's lunch after one and a half. It's like physical activity is a villain that just pretended to die when it fell down the waterfall.

Really it was just biding it's time to bend me over the desk and go to town.

In other news, God of War III was amazing.

Visually beautiful, great action, amazing weapons, and a great continuation of a unique story involving one of the more brutal characters I've encountered in anything.

Seriously, Kratos vs The Judge from Blood Meridian to see who's more obsessively violent.

And I was more than ready to give this game a ten out of ten. Until the flying up the chain - falling down the chain mini game.

First off, I KNOW that this game was built on mini games for big kills.

But that doesn't mean I have to like some shitty transition mini game that is obnoxious and annoying every time I go up or down this freaking chain.

Whoever thought that this was a good idea just cause it looked cool needs to slap himself in the face. Yea, you're a brilliant dude/chick for being a part of this game but you have had a moment of utter retardation.

Not only do you shove this shitty little transition game down our throats FOUR TIMES you also make it as annoying as possible.

Up has been up this entire experience, but for this one difficult section you decide to invert the directions. Why? Because he's flying? This isn't the flight simulator at the Air Force base num nuts, I don't need realistic flight controls to get my imaginary character up the imaginary section of the fantasy world of Olympus.

Hey the players just screwed up, probably for the fourth time, and needs to correct himself quickly to survive. Let's have a spray of blood block his path so he can't see shit and run into more shit so that more blood sprays out and he dies again and again.

Sadistic bastard.

Seriously, why ruin a perfect game experience with this? It was just the right amount of difficult in the actual game, you didn't need to add this freakin' stupidity.

So when I give this game a 9.8 in my imaginary review magazine, know that the .2 of fail is YOU Mr. Letsputsomebullshitminigameinthisshitprickhead

Real Life Week One

One week in. I haven't touched this thing in months but seeing a vampire movie inspired me to continue whatever this is. My complete lack of audience means I'm pretty much writing this for myself, which seems narcissistic because, well, it is.

I just puked up ten bucks worth of Chipotle so right now I don't care how self absorbed I am.

That's all I seem to write about, hating vampire fiction and vomit.

The reason I have nausea so close to midnight is because I made the journey back to Tuscaloosa to celebrate the National Championship we've just won. I'd been moved out for a bout a month so this was my first time experiencing a game like atmosphere from a non-student perspective in four years. What did I learn?

Parking can be a bitch.

But in some desperate sad ode to try and still prove that I was "Billy Bad Ass" I went a lil' overboard boozing for two days straight. Overboard meaning straight shots of Jim Beam all weekend. This means when the nausea hit at eleven o'clock the day after the Chipotle had to come back up.

All in the name of my Peter Pan syndrome.

Not all bad though, I got a job now. Rare for people these days and something I'm sure to emphasize when seeing someone from the past four years. It's kind of like, "Hey, look, I'm not a complete idiot. I didn't kill myself in some bizarre accident. I turned into a normal Joe Schmo. Find this surprising dammit."

No ones biting.

About the Vampire movie, it's called Daybreakers and it reaffirmed all my previously held beliefs about the vampire genre. To be a vampire you must have slicked back hair. If you are a human you have to have loose hair. These are the rules.

In the real world excessive hair gel is a sign that you are an Italian from the north or a homophobic MMA junkie from the West. I'm just kidding. No I'm not. Your hair is ridiculously stupid. Fall down some stairs.

Daybreakers is by far the worst thing that has happened to me in awhile. It is poorly written and relies on Willem Defoe, or whatever his name is, to pull of a bad ass character from Tennessee nick named, wait for it, Elvis. Though this isn't the worst fake southern accent in a movie, it's close.

He compares being a human in a vampire world to "going bareback on a five dollar whore."

Whoever thought that would be a nice "tough guy" line comin' out in a crappy accent needs to be sterilized and shoved down some stairs. Let me go ahead and ruin this movie. The film ends with the main vampire becoming human and driving off into the sunset in a car with a phoenix painted on the hood. I hope I ruined the movie for you. Now you won't waste your time and money on this travesty.

Unless you're someone I hate, then I suggest you go see this movie. If you know for a fact that I hate you, stop what you are doing and get off the Internet and go see Daybreakers.

Take your hair gel.

Yet another crime committed by the vampire fad.

Also Lane Kiffin, not exactly the nicest person on the planet. It takes a serious amount of underhanded mercenary tactics, equivalent to slapping a baby with a frying pan to make me feel sympathy for the University of Tennessee. They are the purveyor of many an atrocious act of villainy and deceit. Also they suck, their fans sucks, and I really hate Rocky Top.

Low and behold, Lane Kiffin was a such an utter back stabbing cherub of destruction and filth that I am actually able to feel sympathy for the University of Hell.

Go figure.

Lastly having to shave this regularly is becoming a serious pain.