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Why I suck at Street Fighter.

And why most people suck at everything.

…Don’t get the wrong idea from the last three posts; I’ve long since abandoned my penchant for lugubrious misogyny. On the drive to work this morning I was crossing one of the bridges over the flood channel and saw a duck leading her babies across the water below.

Words (which I’m generally cheap with, anyway) cannot express my contempt for this woman.

That’s not true; they can: fucking bitch. I can only hope she’s made a pariah on the Internet.

We were driving back from lunch the other day and noticing gas prices on the rise again, I made the suggestion that the oil companies bail out everyone else, and not the taxpayers. Capitalism wouldn’t have any such thing, of course, because lopsidedness is in its very nature, but I’m reminded of the wisdom from a long-forgotten episode of Barbara Eden’s show where Major Nelson gets her powers but is warned against using them: “Well, your world is very complicated,” she explains. “If you stop one war, you’re liable to start ten others. If you flood the Sahara, you may empty an ocean.” See, even a bimbo can learn. Just takes 2,000 years of immortality.

What is this I’m feeling? Something like… excitement?

“You may find that having is not so nearly pleasing a thing as wanting. It is not logical, but it is often true.” —Spock, fine with a nobody taking his two-timing fiancée in ‘Amok Time’

Even Batman made it look more real (was that from The Cult, I can’t remember): 5+ years as an addict and he’s over it in fifteen minutes, less commercials, then gets the chick. And the Chase-Cameron storyline has it looking like married life is harder. Besides, I liked having Amber around as an anthropomorphic—in science fiction, the kind that’s at least upfront about being out there, she’d be a hologram or whatever they were in Battlestar Galactica—representation of the brilliant mind’s emotional conflicts and deductive processes. What now, they explain her away as a figment of sexual frustration?

Self storage is a part of life—well, mine—and my current facility is a converted warehouse of a government contractor which has seen more profitable times. Here’s what happened when I went down the wrong stairs.

Will let me tag along with his LS for Dynamis today, and only in the last few minutes was I informed it would be Qufim. Bad enough I’m returning to a job 225 levels and five years ago with the barest recollection of its nuances (not to mention new ones—pia-what?), among relic-holders and gear I’ve never even seen the model for before when here I thought they’d run out of space for them, but it had to be the zone last I saw of was the plummeting health bars in our alliance, all victims to the boss giant’s AOE catapult. Was our first go at it, of course, lacking the benefit of either popular strategy or week-in, week-out familiarity with the timing and planning of the originals… which was no concern for these vets, who took him down without breaking their stride. One player in my party was on follow the whole time, an insult to the painful memory and my efforts to keep up, lotting and chatting with me about 윤은혜!

Definitely should’ve made a macro for Pianissimo and changed my PT songs to <stpc>. I’m even tempted to pursue a manteel, as I’m reminded by Ricardo Montalban’s unfortunate passing that even an old dude can pull off the midriff, or the equally demanding alternative from Assault. If I’m allowed back, that is; I left off the “IV” in my Valor Minuet line translating it from my JPN set and cast the Lv.3 one for the first half-hour. Good thing I went as a guest, because any hardcore guild committee would’ve kicked me after they’d put me through the log parser.

It’s not Street Fighter, but it’s at least a competing franchise.