Sandpaper Kisses by Martina Topley Bird is knocking my socks off. Spooky, yet soothing.
To my good buddy Don: Yes, you indeed need to throw the Chaff Grenades to beat the first boss fight with Vulcan Raven on Metal Gear Solid. Confirmed. Don't worry, I won't tell anyone about your difficulties. Er, I guess I just did. Gamer cred: RUINED.
Snake? Snake! SNAAAAAAAAAKE!
Just went 24 hours without playing any Dystopia, and it did me good. Evil, evil, delicious Dystopia. Going for 48. Now hopefully I'll stop dreaming about grenade-spamming stealth-suited corporate assassins. That's me delivering the spamming, corps receiving spamming. Strange, strange dreams.
Watched 24 last night, missed the first 30 minutes of the first episode. Instead of seeing important characters dying, I was fixing a Zebra 170XiII label printer in a room full of controlled substances. Wife-lady filled me in on the pivotal early-goings-on. Too early to tell how well this season will shape up. Richard Nixon is president again. Somebody is gunning for Jack, and knows he's still alive. The head terrorist looks like, kid you not, Benny Hill.
WTFBBQ.
I'm digging the whole Diehard 2 terrorist-occupied airport angle this time around. And loving more ridiculous accents. Almost as painful as Dennis Hopper's accent in Season 1.
Jack shooting Palmer's sniper in the head makes for pleasing Sunday-night entertainment.
See, there should be a 24 drinking game. Every time a punk kid with long hair causes problems for Jack, take a drink. Seriously, somebody buy these kids a comb. The son of Jack's landlady is this season's problem child. Last season's was SecDef Heller's hippy son. Season 1 had Kim's idiot kidnappers.
Long hair = stoner idiot who needs to be shot or tortured.
Government-approved Jack-sported short hair = someone who could jump out of a plane (no parachute) with a HK-USP .45 and Kabar and singlehandedly wipe out a continent.
Like Jack.
Or Chuck Norris.
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