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Tom Gordon's Blother

October 12, 2006

Dork Cred #4 -- Photo Roll Playing
Sigh. I guess we're never gonna have hovercars, are we?

Been digging around old photographs recently, so this'll be a somewhat quirky/experimental blog entry, insofar as GUI consistency goes. For some unfathomable reason there're people out there using the WWWeb, who still can't grasp this basic concept of thumbnails leading to higher-resolution graphics. Ah well. First, to get the ball rolling, here's the obligatory self-indulgent sketchbook bit:



Yes, yes. That bionic oinker provided a great opportunity to plug Jon Hoenig's porcine-themed economic texts. Or perhaps even earning one of those nifty fatwa-thingies from the Religion of Peace™ (this nanosecond's infidel-icious outrage: the Apple Store in NYC). Well, I'll merely confess that lecherous, corrupt lump called my "mind" was, er, elsewhere at the time (hint: not upon the pig).

And, in the luridly disturbing non-spirit of Halloween -- let's now clickwhirl the ol' iPod to 'Saint-Saens', pry open the dust-shrouded Wardrobe of Embarrassment with a rusty crowbar, and let loose all them cackling skeletons! The scrawny shirtless git playing the trumpet's yours truly. Yeah, laugh it up:

Munchkin city

Oh yeah? Well, your mom. Once upon a time, this would've been the third item published by my enemies to ruin any bid for future political office (after sordid pix of the 1995 Psilocybin Mushroom/Hershey's Syrup Incident, and an interview with a certain futile love shrine's owner, of course). However, I think the stigma associated with the game's largely dissipated nowadays -- what with musclebound lunks like Vin Diesel writing nostalgic dice-hurling accounts, the hugely successful Potter/LOTR Axis, and teeming thousands having their will to live voluntarily sucked out via World of Warcraft, et al. (Hi Scott!)

IAE, it appears our characters were smack dab in the middle of the Slavers modules -- yup. Naturally we'd gotten there after completing the previous Giants series. I don't know why disrupting the commerce of unethical merchantmen would've been considered a greater challenge than, say, fighting hundreds of beings several times larger/stronger than you. Or for that matter, resisting such obvious adolescent geek-baiting situations as this (from "Hall of the Fire Giant King"). But then we're also talking about a world populated with psionically-powered slime and cube-shaped dungeon janitorial services -- so I s'pose different rules must apply. Next, my seventeenth birthday, celebrated in Maine. Sigh. Testosterone, where are you?

Burying the Wuss Meter's needle

Oh well, guess I look cute, in an effeminate, Audrey Hepburn-styled way. Yet absorb a hefty cutting implement next to the cake, and the whole picture takes on a most disturbing air. One gets a distinct impression that as soon as I grab that frickin' knife, I'm gonna spring up from the table and proceed to gleefully fillet the photographer. Heck, that may have even been on my mind at the time, because -- insane grinning notwithstanding -- that period was NOT an overly happy one.

OTOH, maybe I've just got my hands down my pants. And hey, scope that well-executed frosting iconography, eh? An artist's palette -- AND a computer! Whew! Thank god I outgrew all that juvenile crap!



And lastly, the inevitable, vacant-expressioned kitties. Smokey! Smokey BABY!

Grey, deaf and dumb

Gad. What IS it with Russian Blues, anyway? I'm aware such felines are bred by professionals to be overly friendly with their owners, but just what attributes are the gene-wranglers selecting for to achieve that end? 'Cause if I could use a single word to describe every one I've encountered, it'd be 'dopey.'

In other smeggy news, North Korea apparently lit off The Big One, this week. Whew, that Karl Rove fella sure gets around, huh? First he made the price of gasoline artificially drop using his Commodity Influence Ray... and now THIS! (Darn. And just when we were finally getting back to Important Issues too -- like banning trans-fats in restaurants!)

I jest, of course. But to paraphrase The Pursuit of Happiness, at such abysmal moments in history, "you've got to laugh to prevent yourself from crying". And to be honest, I DO kinda wonder how those appeasing ostriches we call "Democrats" (with a straight face) will ultimately handle this. Particularly when up until now they'd been over-investing themselves in this fantastic notion that surfing a wave of dirty e-mails and proclaiming American failure will somehow carry them into power again. Oh, obviously the Donkey Boys can't league themselves with what they've always proclaimed to be an illegitimate dictatorial regime, run by an evil warmongering tyrant. But they also can't support Kim Jong Il, either! (Nyuk, nyuk.)

So my guess is they'll just do their usual bitter finger-pointing routine, in defiance of historical reality -- why, this never would've happened if WE'D been in charge! -- and then go right back to calling their opponents PERVERT ENABLERS. Except in that alternate reality where what's-his-face DID get booted out of office on the strength of electronic correspondence. In which case they're slinging INTOLERANT HOMOPHOBES, instead.

The nuance. The nuance...
2 Comments:
Blogger Scott LeMien babbled...

hehe.

BTW--If memory serves, you guys were going backwards if you did Slavers after the G-series. I thought slaver's series was 4-8 and Giants 9+.

10/18/2006 5:24 PM  

Blogger Tom Gordon babbled...

Yes, well, our little group of hooligans was distinguished by their +24 Swords of Casual Dismemberment. And such highly goofy/questionable DM practices as, say, having the entire party having sex with their chosen deities one night. Given that, mucking about with the module chronology was really quite small potatoes.

(Oh, and how I love seeing comments appear two weeks after they were posted. Gods, I hate you Blogger.)

10/31/2006 10:09 AM  

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