Things You Didn’t Expect To Do When You Got Married

Smash your fist into your wife’s fist, making sure the rings make contact and saying “Wonder Twin powers… ACTIVATE! Form of… GEEK!”

Still Busy But…

I don’t feel married. I’m told that this is apparently a good thing.

I now have in-laws.

And the season one compilation of Battlestar Galactica.

That is all.

No Big Post Or Observation Today

Getting married. Later.

The Night Before

Aerin got picked up at the airport by me this afternoon. She walked right past me, but then I can attribute that to jet lag, since she did just spend something like over 24 hours in various modes of sitting on a plane, or waiting for a plane. We took her down to the edge of downtown for a quick Turkish lunch, and then wandered past the Esplanade–personally known by me as The Bug Eyes–the Singapore equivalent of the Sydney Opera House, and then she went off to crash, as she was vaguely sure that she’d only catnapped on the plane.

In less than 24 hours I’ll be married. I barely slept a wink the night before, only managing to lose consciousness sometime after the sun had come up, so I’m probably nearly as jet lagged as Aerin is.

There’s no stag night, there’s no hen night, there isn’t even hanging out with friends. It’s just me and the fiance, passing the time, and I think now it’s time for dinner. Or late supper. Whatever you want to call it.

Right. Food.

Suicide Prevention & Porn Titles

As part of the final episode for the mini-series that I’m working on, I had to find out what kind of emergency treatments were appropriate in the event that wrists had been slashed and there was massive blood loss because of a deep cut to a major artery. Don’t ask.

It also occurred to me today that if one were to make a porn film that were an affront to Christians, then if you could get away with it, “Touched By An Angel” is perfect and doesn’t require any modification whatsoever.

Anyway, back to more of that…

The Current Tally

Out of 8 episodes required, 7 have been written for the mini-series. Home stretch now.

Just a little over two days and I will no longer be single.

Went in for a talk on Friday with Scrawl Studios about doing some possible work for them on an animated series. The talk actually went pretty well, and I’ll most likely start gearing up to work with them once I wrap up this this mini-series for Arts Central.

We have boxes to pack books, comics, games, toys and DVDs in. We are also thinking of purchasing a dryer.

I handed in the latest requested draft of the kiddy non-fiction book and have been waiting for a response on that.

I still have not started on the children’s novel.

I still owe three articles to GameAxis.

I still haven’t gotten a haircut.

And my friend Aerin is arriving at noon on Tuesday.

And now I need to pack things in boxes because I said I would, then possibly watch 2046.

Gonna’ be a busy week…

I’m Not Gay Even Though My Engine’s In The Rear, Honest

It occurs to me that one of the great no-brainers as far as sexual slang/metaphors goes is that of men and cars. Since it’s practically a standardized measuring stick of a man’s masculinity, sexual prowess and penis size to observe their car habits and project from there onto their sexual proclivities, I’m amazed that we don’t see more sex lang/lingo based on automotive references. The car is the penis psychologically, so why is it that linguistically the car is… still a car? And yet cigars and bananas are not?

In an attempt to correct this, I’m putting forth some fairly simple and obvious examples of how the automobile as sexual metaphor should be properly carried out, since the association between men, sex and cars is so profoundly burned into social consience it’s a wonder that people don’t get VD checks at gas stations…

“Polish The Hood”: Masturbation.

“I ran her over.”: We had sex.

“I ran her over. Twice. And then backed up on her.” : We had sex twice, and then I engaged in oral sex.

“I’m out of starter fluid.” : I’m impotent.

“I drive an 18 wheeler.”: My sexual genitalia suffers from a massive and localized strain of Elephantitis, and I require my own motorized vehicle to carry them around. Sex with me will most likely result in your death, because I’m too much man for 50 women.

“I’ve got custom work under the hood”: I’ve had a vasectomy. Please have sex with me without a condom.

“I’m a car modder.”: I sent away for penis extension treatment suction machine and now I can’t feel anything in my groin unless you kick me.

“I’ve got a noisy exhaust”: I fart upon climax. You’ve been warned.

“It goes from 0-60 in five seconds”: I suffer from premature ejaculation.

“It’s stuck in first gear.”: I suffer from retarded ejaculation and never climax.

“I own a Volkswagon 412.”: I’m gay, but in that cute, chintzy, retro modern Euro way.

“I own a Chevy Corvair.”: I’m gay, but was in my heyday in the 70′s.

“I need an oil change.”: Oral sex, please.

“I need lots of trunk space.”: I like girls with huge bottoms.

“Flat tire”: Too drunk/stoned for sex.

“Spare tire”: But if we watch porn maybe that’ll help…

“Fender bender”: I’ve been kicked in the groin. Help me.

“It’s a convertible.”: I’m bi-sexual.

“It’s a diesel engine.”: I can only have sex when country music is playing.

“It’s a family car.”: I don’t have sex anymore. Change that. Please, I’m begging you.

It’s Only Funny If You’re A Gamer-Geek

Or maybe a military historian that likes Real Time Strategy games. I wish I could take credit for this, but I can’t. I have no idea where it came from, but I found it on the forums of GameAxis, my game writing gig, and I feel the need to share, so here ya’ go…

If World War Two had been an online Real Time Strategy game, the chat room traffic would have gone something like this:

*Hitler[AoE] has joined the game.
**Eisenhower has joined the game.
**paTTon has joined the game.
**Churchill has joined the game.
**benny-tow has joined the game.
**T0J0 has joined the game.
**Roosevelt has joined the game.
**Stalin has joined the game.
**deGaulle has joined the game.
*Roosevelt: hey sup
T0J0: y0
Stalin: hi
Churchill: hi
Hitler[AoE]: cool, i start with panzer tanks!
paTTon: lol more like panzy tanks
T0JO: lol
Roosevelt: o this fockin sucks i got a depression!
benny-tow: haha america sux
Stalin: hey hitler you dont fight me i dont fight u, cool?
Hitler[AoE]; sure whatever
Stalin: cool
deGaulle: **** Hitler rushed some1 help
Hitler[AoE]: lol byebye frenchy
Roosevelt: i dont got **** to help, sry
Churchill: wtf the luftwaffle is attacking me
Roosevelt: get antiair guns
Churchill: i cant afford them
benny-tow: u n00bs know what team talk is?
paTTon: stfu
Roosevelt: o yah hit the navajo button guys
deGaulle: eisenhower ur worthless come help me quick
Eisenhower: i cant do **** til rosevelt gives me an army
paTTon: yah hurry the fock up
Churchill: d00d im gettin pounded
deGaulle: this is fockin weak u guys suck
*deGaulle has left the game.*
Roosevelt: im gonna attack the axis k?
benny-tow: with what? ur wheelchair?
benny-tow: lol did u mess up ur legs AND ur head?
Hitler[AoE]: ROFLMAO
T0J0: lol o no america im comin 4 u
Roosevelt: wtf! thats bullsh1t u fags im gunna kick ur asses
T0JO: not without ur harbors u wont! lol
Roosevelt: u little biotch ill get u
Hitler[AoE]: wtf
Hitler[AoE]: america hax, u had depression and now u got a huge fockin army
Hitler[AoE]: thats bullsh1t u hacker
Churchill: lol no more france for u hitler
Hitler[AoE]: tojo help me!
T0J0: wtf u want me to do, im on the other side of the world retard
Hitler[AoE]: fine ill clear you a path
Stalin: WTF u arsshoel! WE HAD A FoCKIN TRUCE
Hitler[AoE]: i changed my mind lol
benny-tow: haha
benny-tow: hey ur losing ur guys in africa im gonna need help in italy soonsum1
T0J0: o **** i cant help u i got my hands full
Hitler[AoE]: im 2 busy 2 help
Roosevelt: yah thats right ***** im comin for ya
Stalin: church help me
Churchill: like u helped me before? sure ill just sit here
Stalin: dont be an arss
Churchill: dont be a commie. oops too late
Eisenhower: LOL
benny-tow: hahahh oh sh1t help
Hitler: o man ur focked
paTTon: oh what now biotch
Roosevelt: whos the cripple now lol
*benny-tow has been eliminated.*
benny-tow: lame
Roosevelt: gj patton
paTTon: thnx
Hitler[AoE]: WTF eisenhower hax hes killing all my sh1t
Hitler[AoE]: quit u hacker so u dont ruin my record
Eisenhower: Nuts!
benny~tow: wtf that mean?
Eisenhower: meant to say nutsack lol finger slipped
paTTon: coming to get u hitler u paper hanging hun cocksocker
Stalin: rofl
T0J0: HAHAHHAA
Hitler[AoE]: u guys are fockin gay
Hitler[AoE]: ur never getting in my city
*Hitler[AoE] has been eliminated.*
benny~tow: OMG u noob you killed yourself
Eisenhower: ROFLOLOLOL
Stalin: OMG LMAO!
Hitler[AoE]: WTF i didnt click there omg this game blows
*Hitler[AoE] has left the game*
paTTon: hahahhah
T0J0: WTF my teammates are n00bs
benny~tow: shut up noob
Roosevelt: haha wut a moron
paTTon: wtf am i gunna do now?
Eisenhower: yah me too
T0J0: why dont u attack me o thats right u dont got no ships lololol
Eisenhower: fock u
paTTon: lemme go thru ur base commie
Stalin: go to hell lol
paTTon: fock this sh1t im goin afk
Eisenhower: yah this is gay
*Roosevelt has left the game.*
Hitler[AoE]: wtf?
Eisenhower: sh1t now we need some1 to join
*tru_m4n has joined the game.*
tru_m4n: hi all
T0J0: hey
Stalin: sup
Churchill: hi
tru_m4n: OMG OMG OMG i got all his stuff!
tru_m4n: NUKES! HOLY **** I GOT NUKES
Stalin: d00d gimmie some plz
tru_m4n: no way i only got like a couple
Stalin: omg dont be gay gimmie nuculer secrets
T0J0: wtf is nukes?
T0J0: holy ****holy****hoyl****!
*T0J0 has been eliminated.*
*The Allied team has won the game!*
Eisenhower: awesome!
Churchill: gg noobs no re
T0J0: thats bull**** u fockin suck
*T0J0 has left the game.*
*Eisenhower has left the game.*
Stalin: next game im not going to be on ur team, u guys didnt help me for****
Churchill: wutever, we didnt need ur help neway dumbarss
tru_m4n: l8r all
benny~tow: bye
Churchill: l8r
Stalin: fock u all
tru_m4n: shut up commie lol
*tru_m4n has left the game.*
benny~tow: lololol u commie
Churchill: ROFL
Churchill: bye commie
*Churchill has left the game.*
*benny~tow has left the game.*
Stalin: i hate u all fags
*Stalin has left the game.*
paTTon: lol no1 is left
paTTon: weeeee i got a jeep
*paTTon has been eliminated.*
paTTon: o sh1t!
*paTTon has left the game.*

Trapper Wayne M. D. (Massive Dotard)

I got this game today that I’m supposed to review for the Nintendo DS called Trauma Center: Under The Knife.

This game has proved to me once and for all that I’m just not cut out to be a doctor.

I’m actually quite taken with the game. It’s loads of fun. If you’re not familiar with the Nintendo DS, one of it’s more interesting features is that it’s a dual screen (Hence, DS, duh…) system with the top screen being a normal display, but the bottom screen is touch sensitive. The DS comes with a stylus that allows you to interact with the second screen. Some genius at Atlus games (A Japanese developer) decided that the stylus was perfect for a virtual version of “Operation” a children’s board game that had you removing foreign material from a sick patient that was the the actual board of the game. The same principle applies here, only you’re not just using forceps, you’re using a scalpel, anti-biotic gel, ultra sounds, lasers, sutures, and drains to do everything from treat motor accident victims to removing tumors.

This is incredibly gimmicky, and at the same time, sheer bloody genius.

You get a real kick from making incisions, locating tumors and removing them, but at the same time, any errors you make cost the patient some health (in the form of a Health monitor at the top of the screen that starts at 100 and counts down the longer the patient stays under anaesthesia, or you screw up) and if you take too long, or screw up one time too many, the patient dies.

Lemme tell ya’ there’s an incredible amount of panic involve when you know the clock is ticking and all of sudden something starts hemmoraging, and you realize that instead of draining it, in your panic you picked up the laser and started blowing tiny holes in your patient.

I’ve already lost eight patients today, but dammit, practice makes perfect. Now, if you’ll excuse me…

Destination: Total Unconsciousness

Man, I sure hope I actually get to sleep tonight.

For the last two evenings, I haven’t been able to sleep. The night before last, I know that I was completely up all night, straight on through morning until I finally got out of the bed. Last night, I think I may have dozed off for a few minutes at a time, only to wake up for long stretches before finally winking out momentarily as a break from the involuntary sentry duty.

There could be a few reasons for this. The night before last, I made the mistake of watching The Ring 2 before bedtime. We have a TV at the foot of our bed, and I have a phobic reaction to ghosts, so this was an exceedingly bad decision to make just before bedtime, and I harbored this mortal, terrorstricken certainty that someone with long hair was at the foot of the bed just waiting for me to break the sacred childhood rule of Poking A Body Part Out Of The Blanket. Because, as any sensible child will tell you, as long as you’re under the blanket, you are completely safe. It is only when your extremities expose themselves to the night air that those precious inches of cotten, stuffing and linen can no longer protect you from every evil the world might throw at you. So it was I spent most of that evening starting to relax, then feeling my foot be exposed to night air and suddenly returning to alertness to pull my toe, hand, head back in so that bad ghost girl with scary long hair wouldn’t get me.

As for last night, beats the hell out of me. I boldly faced my fear and stuck my limbs out, but for whatever reason, I just couldn’t sleep, despite not actually experiencing any fear. My brain simply didn’t gradually shut down and eventually switch off, instead, I suppose, simply going into brief interludes of unconsciousness as the exhaustion accumulated from the night before kicked in, only to be restored to a cranky kind of consciousness minutes later.

Heck, maybe it’s just pre-wedding jitters. I haven’t felt the least bit anxiety stricken about the Big Day in the least, and am actually looking forward to it, so maybe this is just my body’s way of trying to experience the normal marital nervousness that’s supposed to come at the prospect of being legally obligated to sleep in the same bed with a woman for the rest of your life.

Oh well, I’ve still got some scripts to finish…