Ryan

Just a moment today. I thought to share the love that is a random news link.

http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/world/americas/3641338.stm

I just want you to take a moment out of your otherwise very busy day to look at these special pictures.

http://www.goldengategarrison.com/gallery/calkinswed/Image168

Pay carefull attention to image 62. Vader and a stroller? Keep digging and see Vader next to a giant cartoon whale. So, um, yeah. Love to all, drunkeness to me!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I found a couple of trailers and I thought I'd share them. IGN also has a new gameplay video from E3, but it's only 30 seconds.

It bears saying that the WMV is a fragment of the zipped one, but of much greater quality.

By now I've told more than a few people what I intend to accomplish. My goal is to keep those turtles you see every day on the interstate out of your tread and into your homes. The auto is the number one predator of turtles (box turtles, sliders, maps, and the occasional cooter). The easy choice would be to help them across the road. You know, just pick on up and help the little guy across four lanes of unyielding traffic.

Herein lies the problem: there is a giant concrete wall separating the east and west lanes. This isn't true of every road, but it is true of I-44 in the part south of Oklahoma City. The only logical solution is to extract the turtle from the dangerous environment and move it to one less dangerous.

Certainly, this is an easy thing to do. Though, it's here that we are capable of doing the most damage. Numerous herpetologists agree that box turtles have a range of only around 100 yards. Once they've found a place to call home, they will remain there for their many years. If they've been removed from this environment, they will always seek it out. They really aren't the greatest at finding home, however. So, by releasing them outside of home, you damn them to a life of searching, which is very upsetting to the neurotic turtle.

Sliders, likely can be caught and released into safer areas. They are nomadic by nature, moving when their home dries up or when the loins flare.

I was in Norman for the day Tuesday. On the way home I found a rather attractive red-eared slider. Chris adopted it and became the first adopter in my yet-to-be rescue agency. I also found a rather normal male ornate box turtle. Happy day! The only issue was, a tire had gotten to it before I did.

I finally got an appointment to see the vet today. I took the little guy in and I was asked what his name was. I said that I had no name in mind; I didn't want to get too attached if death was inevitable. I was then told that all animals are attached to my account by their name, and the record must have a name before it could be closed.

Someone in the other room suggested "Lucky". I found it a little disgusting. But, I couldn't think of anything else so the turtle is called Lucky at the vet. It seems that Lucky will likely be alright. It'll take some wire to reassemble the carapace. Perhaps some fiberglass will be employed to seal up the tender spots rendered open by the initial impact.

I feel like I should feel as if I did a good thing, but this only makes me anxious. There is so much more work to be done. There are so many chelonians that we discard and run over. I have slapped in some images of "Lucky", but I put the LJ-cut in there because they are fairly depressing.

If you got a better name for the boxy, please post it here.

( The Grisly Images . . . )

My dog, of glaucoma fame, is seemingly alright. I forgot to mention it in my bullshit post from a few minutes back. It seems that she will always need drops in the eye, however. It's all a small price to pay for the years she'll get to live now. Her eye will likely never quite work right again, but at least she's out of the pain zone.

Cheers.

I have a stalker, and the stalker is Pearl. Pearl, it bears saying, is one of the two cats that live in my house. When I close a door, she often feels left out. This gives her plenty cause to hammer away at the door until she feels important. I use the word hammer because she truly attacks the door. The thuds are loud and sound very much as if she were a person knocking.

I'll post some pictures of the turtles as soon as the sun comes back enough for me to get some good light. My place is of the darkness in the evening.

I've been working on my own roleplaying ruleset for a little while now. It's been coming along fairly quickly. What I find myself at now, however, is an impasse. The problem is, I started working on porting Campaign Quad from Mekton Z to my engine. I was digging along just fine, until I got to the part where shell creation enters.

I gotta say, it's daunting. I don't know if I'll be cranking it out for a bit. I'm intimidated by the amount of work required.

If you're still reading, some words of encouragement would be fantastic.

My brittany spaniel has glaucoma. It was made official yesterday when I was up in Norman. She's nine years old and has really never been ill. Sure, she's had an injury or two, but nothing that could count as a disease. So, for the first time, I'm having to come back down to the planet of mortality realization. It's a shitty planet.

All this amid the death of Diamond and the continued seizures of Ed. I suspect Jeremy will be illuminating this subject on his own time, if he cares to.

As for my dog, it's a waiting game. On Monday, I have an appointment with my vet at 5:15 PM. From there, we will consider the options. My mother, who took her in initially, said that the vet who was there told her that people often remove the eye from the dog, since it's cheaper. Fuck that. I don't want my dog to be a pirate. Barring that, she will likely lose most if not all of her vision even if she keeps the eye.

The other vet also said that the eye shouldn't burst during this interim. This is sorta' maddening. I've been giving her the eye drops and pain medications, and she seems fine. Though, she loves the outside and incessantly insists on going out when she's in. Must be the bird dog, but I hope this doesn't cost her an eye impact, either.

The greatest fight a man can know is the fight with one's self. The human condition is the pursuit of a single answer: Who am I? Sometimes healing one's self is a fight with one's self. But enough of the esoteric.

I walked out. I work there no more. It was a cancer and has hence been removed. That's all, I suppose.

Esoterrorists are still the coolest ever.

It's two weeks notice. Not an ultimatum. I won't live like this.

There comes a point when it becomes about self-preservation. You know, when the survival instinct kicks in. That would be now.

I have sent in my demands. It includes the obligatory two weeks.

Yeah, a day of a reckoning. I’ve had enough. I’ve been underpaid for some time now and I’ve decided it’s over. Today, I’ll deliver my ultimatum that involves either my pay increase to merry bushels of cash, or a hasty exodus. My work performance has been hampered where not destroyed by this place and I’ll take it no bloody longer.

Fuck anyone who opposes, or whatever. He just fucking called. You see, I fucked something up today. But, I attest, it’s because I don’t care at all about my job or the business that provides it. How can I give a shit about a full-tilt super manager position when I get paid like an underling? I can’t.

/eomfd

So, I was doing what I normally do here at work during the day: struggle to stay awake. But, I noticed something a little odd that reaffirms all my thoughts that we can make a viable product and that we can make a dent in this FRPG industry.

What, you may ask, would lead me to believe this flight of fancy? Capcom, of course. The Capcom World Tournament, no less. I had seen it before, but that was before I started CoreE. Let's look at the Capcom World Tournament in link form. click it!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!1111111111111111111oneoneoneoneone

I have only very rarely felt optimistic about things, especially as of late. So this is a good thing. We can do this.

My mp3 collection has been fucked up for some time. Utterly destroyed would be more like it. I didn't realize that iTunes likes to hack apart your directory structure when archiving. Live and learn, eh? So, sometimes I get in the mood to hear certain songs and sometimes they're on an album by various artists. iTunes sortred by artist so it's a little work to get it fixed.

Back in the mid ninties, there was a video game music concert in Japan. The made a CD for it. I have it the mp3s from it. So, I wanted to hear their orchestral version of the Red Wings from Final Fantasy IV (II). After consolodating the album into a single directory, I began listening to the other music.

There is a brilliant version of the LEgend of Zelda theme from Link to the Past. It kinda made me want to create a Zelda RPG. Heh, that won't be happening any time soon. But it also made me think about the premise of CoreE and even modern roleplay.

That makes me feel sick. I should be out there fucking making it with the shit in my head. Maybe it isn't the best, but it sure as fuck isn't as bad as a good deal of the other shit that's out there. Why not me? Why is it so critical that I suffer here all the fuck alone? All the fuck alone . . .

So, I'm gonna' fuckin go to Norman this weekend, even if it kills me.

Today was really great.
I got out of bed really early because I had terrible stomach cramps.

I feel good because today I getting my lip pierced! Finally! Mom said I could and she's signed the forms and EVERYTHING!

I'm so angry. Paul is grounded. AGAIN! And I'm not allowed to see him. EVER. It's just NOT FAIR. I hate my mom and I wish she was dead. This wouldn't happen if I was allowed to live with dad.

Last night I had to masturbate twenty times. I'm so horny. Click here to see my website.

I want to tell the world that my girlfriend Amy is the bomb! She made pizza last night, and even though I burnt my lips on the cheese, it was awesome!!!

I am updating this journal for the first time in ages, because I've been in prison.

Today, I got a digital camera! Yes! Here's some photos of my cock.

I want to say thanks to simon and Abbey and Dave and the other Simon for helping me on Saturday. You guys are the best. By the way, if you happen to find my wallet, keys or underwear, could you SMS me? Adrian has my number.

I went to the doctor yesterday, and he said I have bipolar disorder, just like my dad.

You should all do this quiz! It's amazingly accurate. You just put in your name and birthday, and it will tell you who you're sexually compatible with.

Type something here.

That's enough for now. But I'll leave you with my favourite Buffy fan-fiction piece I wrote last year when I was in hospital.

Created with the Gregor's Semi-Automatic LiveJournal Updater™. Update your journal today!

I realized something today. The fear has little or nothing to do with losing her. Only having lost her could I realize that. No, the fear has far more to do with being alone again . . . which I am. We weren’t together so long that I forgot what it feels like to be alone.

That’s what hurts, you see. Looking at the passenger seat and seeing it unattended is a painful thing. Not hearing the angry sigh when roll into her in the middle of the night. Sigh, indeed.

The issue is with her past and (likely) future husband. She went back to him. She’s makes herself easy to guilt into things and I’m sure she let him guilt her again. I hear promises of beauty and promises of things being better. I suppose she deserves her fate.

Jeremy once told me that he hated Trina because she hurt me. I saw this coming a mile away, so it begs the question: What does it mean when I hurt myself.

It’s sad, really, to think that we put ourselves on the chopping block so readily.

Kept down again.

Suicidal anecdote.

Sadness creeping all over like the dark edges of my soul are smothering me again.

Nothing a little bleach couldn’t fix.

Feeling much better now.

Even though I'm lying.

This stuttering fuck will never shut up. He prattles on and on and hurts my face. I want to kill the bastard. He's so jealous. HE has a young woman on his fucking arm. She looks hardened by her premature aging, though she's still my age. He's no less than 50, I fucking swear. Now he talks trash about Melissa. I don't love her, but I certainly feel protective. Don't fuck with my people.

ever

So you need to leave now fucktard. This is sorta odd. I felt like Cusorno not a few minutes ago. Seemingly I'm a pimp completely unbeknownst to me. There was this girl, Tishama, I think. She's rather attractive. I went to high school with her. She remebered and attempted a flirty dialog. I'm a flirter, so I played a little. She began to hit on me. I explained that I haver an Alexis at home. That was enough to break the dialog. I can't say that it doesn't make me feel good for it to of happened, though.

Oh God, I remerber her now. She was chunky and without social skill or grace. She was like Cindy in that respect. But now, a sexual beast. That makes me happy. I love to see people overcome their past lack of self e -- I swear to fucking God that I wanna kill that bitch. I am, of course, refering to the fellow from the first paragraph. He's still there, still bantering listlessly. Foolish man.

But then, a bit later in the day, this older woman was all about the Ryan. By older, I mean 40. She was flirty, as people tend to be, but when I was done with her vehicle inspection. She kept trying to drive on the dialog. She wanted to make something more of our talks. Such desire in her eyes. It makes me feel dirty to go with the angry for that fuck talking smack across from me.

Alright. That's what I had to say. A vent, I guess. So, ,um,

I do feel nearly ecstatic to have something to call mine and to be called hers by. But that's all the mushy bits you'll get from me about the girly, for now.

Melissa called me last night. She lamented her boredom, which I did in kind. Then, She said that we should watch some sort of DVD action. So we did. Good fun was had by all. But something ocured to me when she called.

This was probably the work of Steve, me father. He likely goaded her into calling. I can just see the dialog in my head.

M: Hi boss ;)
FT: Hey, employee. You know, you should give Ryan a call. He's probably bored too.

M: Huh?
MT: Yeah, you could call and say, "Hey Ryan, I'm bored, let's do something" (I fucking swear that he tries to dictate dialog to people).

M: k
FT: k

SCENE!!!!!!!!!!!!!111111

So, now I'm even more bitter today. But I wanna talk about the Cam*. I'd like to write a fucking dissertation on how much it confuses and bothers me that people want bullshit in there fun. I mean, do we really need a compliacted ruleset for fun?

For more evidence, clicky below:

Ruleset (rules:camarilla)
"Membership" Handbook

So there it is. The source material for what may well be the biggest bitch fest of our time.


*Camarilla - White Wolf Fan Club

So, I look for a damn job. . . . . . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . nothing. nothing nothing.

Um, what else? I find myself atracted to a beast that I am ashamed to admit my attraction to. A girl who is seven months pregnant with some fuckholes kid. I know little will come of it all beacause I dont want a damn kid. She's atracxtive, in a "I kinda like her brain" sorta way. And don't anyone go off and tell me that I* shouldn't, because I know that.

I wanna go home. I wana find home. I'm fucking lost here and it's becoming a little more than I can take.

Am I dead? Sometimes, I wish I were.