25 & Life

Seriously, how the fuck did I make it to 25? I really don't know myself . . . by all accounts I should have been dead years ago. But here I am, still ticking and wreaking havoc on society.

25 goddamn years. Holy cow. When I was a teenager, 25 was the big time. It was wife and kids, house with two cats in the yard kind of shit. Boy was I wrong! Here I am hitting the big 2-5 as a career-less college grad that couldn't possibly be farther away from being a family man. But hey, I have a PS3 and a yellow sportscar. Fuck yes!

I've included a photo of myself for you out-of-towners that haven't seen me in a few years.

Here's to 26! Whoooooop! Time to go have some beers.

I Hate Television

Tomorrow is my last day of work for several weeks, and I must say, the prospect of being even less productive than I already am has me more than a little excited. You can be damn sure I'll partake in choice activities such as: getting drunk on Mondays, wearing my Pac-Man pajama pants all day, and waking up and playing Mega Man 2 before I even brush my teeth. Yes, kids, it's true. I still live in a fantasy land.

I've already received news that several card-carrying members of the Cool Club will be making their way to The Pass to celebrate gift giving and savior birthing. Hanging out is always fun, but going out . . . not so much. Over the past several months I've transformed into a semi-agoraphobic caricature of my former self. I'm not sure what exactly the problem is here. I'm positive that it's not because of maturity (the first paragraph completely kills that theory,) but perhaps it's due to boredom. You know, same places-same faces kind of shit. Yes, we'll call it that for now. But regardless of my lack of enthusiasm about going out, I am excited to see these cats again. I really fucking love these guys and their new common law spouses. Things should be fun.

I suppose that I should touch on the abomination that aired last night on MTV. Of course I'm talking about the last episode of A Shot at Love. I always had my doubts about the legitimacy of that slut's claims about being bi-sexual, but last night was just disgusting. I mean, she chose Bobby!? I guess in the entire time that she's been working on her career she's never ever been to a college bar, beach, frat party, sporting event, or Hollister store in her entire life, because if she had she would've found love years ago. Guys like that idiot are a dime-a-fucking-dozen. Poor Dani. Oh well, she was too good for that show anyways.

In gaming news--I recently finished Mass Effect, BioWare's latest science fiction dialogue-simulator for Xbox 360. It started off a little slow, but I gotta say I ended up loving it. I had my angry Annie Lennox-look-alike soldier destroy everything. And that's really the core of its brilliance, the choices to be a total dick and blow everything up or a benevolent saint and save everyone are real choices that you feel have real weight. It has a spot on my top five of '07 list, and had it been released in any other year, it would have been a major contender for my GOTY. A distinction that is not at all coveted, but definitely should be.

Which brings me to my next point. I'm holding off on making my real decision about game of the year until I play Rock Band. Now I know that the chances of me changing my mind on the early winner are slim to nil, but I'll still give it a chance to be in the running. After all, it's Christmas!