Friday, November 15, 2013

My experience with Burial At Sea summarized with animated gifs

I think a lot of people know that I've fallen hard for BioShock Infinite. My current Twitter avi (the Lutece twins), and the almost nonsensical tweets and FB updates (it's hard to come across as sane when trying to keep things vague and spoiler-free) have been totally Infinite-centric. I can't help it; I think it's fantastic, and I just finished my own personal play through this week. (I watched Jeremy play through it a couple of times earlier this year, when he tackled the Main Campaign in Normal mode followed by 1999 mode.)

Nevertheless, the first story-related DLC for it, Burial At Sea Episode 1 came out this week, so, naturally, I was fucking stoked.

Then, there was the "new" Elizabeth, who's a total 180 from who she was in Infinite's main story.

And, then, there was that ending, which, was definitely shocking...

But not as HOLY SHIT as I had been led to believe. So, there was some quiet contemplation, and then, at two in the morning, the absolute horror of the events that unfolded really started to kick in.

Then came some renewed analysis of BioShock Infinite's main ending:

And, now, the wait for Episode 2...

All gifs courtesy of gif-central. I own nothing!

Sunday, November 10, 2013

But I was here first!

I was considering a move to tumblr, (or at least creating an "extension" of my madness) but then I found out that somebody is already using the domain over there. Or, rather, was using it, because she hasn't updated her stuff in over a year. A quick search over on Google shows that my blog is now number four on the list of Dorkisms on the web; there's a Pinterest user with a sizable board called Dorkisms, and some people going with the "Dork-isms" route (which isn't so bad, I suppose). There's a Facebook page, too; it has an amazing 21 likes. I'm not gonna bother linking it, because, in all honestly, it's pretty bad.

So, now I'm a bit... confounded. Changing the name of this blog is not an option; this space has been here since 2009, and I have used it for professional instances (LOL I know, right?); I also got a shout-out from Destructoid last year (can you tell that I'm proud of that?). All of these other spaces were established AFTER I started here, but it's not like the name is copyrighted or anything, so why am I even writing about this?

It's probably not justified, but I can't help feeling a bit salty; before I made this blog, I made damn sure that I wasn't taking somebody else's name/domain/etc.

It would be nice if other people would take the extra time to do that, too.

Wednesday, November 6, 2013

More like "Wordy" Wednesday because of that one time I freaked out over a bottle of tequila

This was originally going to be a quick, Wordless Wednesday post (to reinforce that I'm not dead), but then I decided that it probably wouldn't make a lot of sense since Poltergeist II came out so long ago, and a lot of people probably haven't seen it or have, but just don't remember it very well because their psyches just created blocks to suppress that shit because of how fucked up it was. Also, that was a really long sentence. Nevertheless, what you see above is the tequila worm from Poltergeist II, the second in a trilogy of movies that seriously fucked me up as a child. Because, for some reason, my parents, with their infinite wisdom, showed me all three films before I was even six. (I also saw Nightmare on Elm Street when I was three. I was unable to sleep in my own bed for years after that. YEARS.)

Anyway, I was thinking that comparing the horrible things I'm coughing up from my ongoing bout with Man Flu to the above worm would be humorous on some level -- but then I remembered the actual film, which was TERRIFYING, followed by the time that my dad took a business trip to Mexico around the same time I saw the movie. He came back with a bottle of tequila that had a worm swimming around in it and I




There was screaming, and crying, and I was absolutely convinced that my dad was going to swallow the worm and vomit it back up, and then it would crawl around the apartment and... I don't even know what! BUT IT WOULD! It would slither around all over the place! It would be slimy, and sickly, and how could these adults be so shockingly cavalier about the situation my dad just put us in?!? I'm pretty sure they thought that it was funny, or cute, or frustrating, or a mixture of the three because, let's face it, sometimes little kid freak outs can be inappropriately comical. Regardless, I woke up the next morning and there was the bottle on the counter -- but the worm was gone. I spent my day on the brink of tears, unwilling to walk around by myself, on the lookout for any possessed, human-sized worm creatures hanging out around the apartment.

After years of not seeing any of Poltergeist's monsters, the tequila worm has elicited a knee-jerk, DAFUQ?! reaction that brings me to the conclusion that attempting to watch any of the Poltergeist flicks will result in possible crying and an absolute need for sedatives.

Thanks, mom and dad.

Tuesday, June 4, 2013

This could be a disaster

As I get older I can't help thinking that my filter is becoming more and more pointless. I have said this many times, but really letting loose and saying/typing exactly what's on my mind is much easier said than done. ('Sup, Captain Obvious?)

A couple of weeks back, I read a post over at Ramble Ramble in which the lovely Ginger talked about the potential for certain topics to be offensive to friends or family, and writing and ultimately deleting entire posts in order to not piss anyone off with her views on various things.

I have thought about this so much. SO much. I have this blog -- specifically for writing about things that I feel like writing about. So far, I have touched on subjects ranging from my husband's ordeal with thyroid cancer, to the woes of parenting, to that time I got annoyed about gender-discrepancy issues in Borderlands 2, so I suppose I'm doing pretty well.

But I feel like I'm censoring myself. No -- I know that I'm censoring myself. I have wanted to write about a lot of stuff, but I typically scrap posts because not only am I thinking, "Cool story, bro," but also because I do get concerned about reactions. People tend to get butt-hurt about the strangest things, and it's always best to err on the side of caution. I get that.

But you know what? 

Fuck it.

I'm going to write, goddamn it -- about specific things that I have held off on for way too long! I won't name names -- out of respect, of course -- but I can't keep these musings to myself. After all, I am capable of putting together things that don't involve my obsession with RE. You just wouldn't know it because of my tendency to, well... not.

So, who knows? Maybe some of these topics will spark legitimate discussion. More than likely, the majority of it will be incredibly boring. Nevertheless, oddities, annoyances, and illness are all fair motherfucking game.

Happy reading you guys.

Wednesday, April 24, 2013

Wordless Wednesday: The way people look

(If you haven't seen Bill Cosby: Himself, I feel bad for you, and I highly suggest that you watch it -- especially if you have children.) 

Friday, April 12, 2013

A fourth Heart Songs post because MUSIC.

Clearly, it has been a minute since I last posted anything, so I'm going to make up for that with some nice, hefty filler material! Because, really, who doesn't love a good filler post?

... Don't answer that.

Anyway, here's some shit that I've been listening to lately.

Also, are some of these songs "oldies" now? How does that work, anyway?

Pearl Jam: Jeremy

Bloody hell with this video and its flannel, hesher hair, and Eddie Vedder's weird facial expressions. Nevertheless, this song is pretty fucked up and sad and should probably be used for anti-bullying PSA's or something.

Nicki Minaj and Cassie: The Boys

Fierce bitches are fierce.

Jesper Kyd: Main Menu

I'm in love with this song with its acoustic guitar and all-around great vibe. Plus, it's really cool when it plays in-game because my character is all looking down at the terrain like a goddamn badass while the camera slowly pans around her and shit.


Tori Amos: Space Dog

"Racing turtles, the grapefruit is winning..." 
This. Every day, this.

Girl In a Coma: Vino

I'm basically convinced that these chicks can do no wrong.

Dada Life: Kick Out the Epic Motherfucker - Vocal Version

When this comes on while I'm doing dishes I get into this groove, like, "I'm going to wash the FUCK out of these plates!" It just has that sort of effect. Spotify selects it and then I can't help getting up and moving around in some capacity. Can you?

Deftones: Leathers

For awhile there was a distinct lack of Deftones in my life. Then, they released Koi No Yokan and now everything is okay again.

Dolly Parton: Jolene

I have to say something about this song. There's a line where she says that her man whispers Jolene's name in his sleep, which is kind of creepy. And most likely a sign that homegirl should just dump him and move on.

Nobuo Uematsu: People of the North Pole

This song is amazing and beautiful and ahhmaahhgaah just listen! The combination of strings and drums here is just... THOSE STRINGS.

So, how about you? Feel free to share some thoughts, or perhaps some of your own personal favourite tunes, in the handy-dandy comments box below.

Thursday, January 31, 2013

A weird little ball with a weird little name

I have a fibroadenoma that I named Nacho.

I found out about it back in November (the day before Thanksgiving to be precise), had an ultrasound about a week and a half later, and then elected to have a needle biopsy a couple of days before New Year’s Eve.

I didn’t say anything because I didn’t want to worry anyone – especially not after everything with Jeremy.

So, why say something now, you ask? Because I'm tired of not being able to speak freely about the little bastard. I have a weird little ball in my boob that has a weird little name (because I was being cheeky) that just sits about being all weird and shit. I feel like I shouldn't have to censor myself anymore, especially when I feel like marveling about how, once again, my own body has decided to troll me.

Anyway, so, yeah.My OB wanted me to have a mammogram because I’m “at that in-between age” but the imaging center’s policy was ultrasound first, mammo if something weird turns up during the U/S. Well, nothing weird turned up, and the doctor and techs were like, “Pfft, you’re good. Follow up in six months to make sure it hasn’t grown.”

High-five for that, right?

About a week or so later the formal letter came in the mail and proclaimed – IN ALL CAPS – that my results were “95% BENIGN.” Which is, of course, great news! But, because I’m out of my goddamn mind, the wheels of worry began to turn: There was a 5% chance that this could be something else; how could they possibly know what it was for sure without some kind of tissue sample, and let’s not forget that my otherwise healthy husband just had thyroid cancer that was discovered purely on luck! Shitshitshit! I tried to tell myself that I was being silly – I really did – but Nacho was seriously freaking me the fuck out because suddenly it felt like it had grown to be the size of Texas (it hadn't). I needed to know if it was friend or foe, and getting stabbed in the tit a few times was really my only option.
Lucky for me my experience working for a veterinarian paid off because I knew exactly what to expect going into the procedure. A needle biopsy is a needle biopsy is a needle biopsy, regardless of species. There will always be a big needle (derp), and a jar of formalin for the sample(s), and the amazing substance known as Lidocaine, which is borderline magical but stings like a bitch before it takes hold.

Knowing is half the battle folks, and now you know about Nacho, the power of my neurosis (pfft, as if you didn't know that already) and what to expect for needle biopsies!

So, high-five for that!


Saturday, January 26, 2013

Gender bender

It’s no secret that I have this… thing… about consistency. At this point I’m unsure of whether it’s a personality quirk or a weird litmus test for whether or not I’m particularly hypomanic at a given time. Nevertheless, it exists. With that being said, meet Mordecai and his BFF Bloodwing.

Hella lookin' like a hobo.
In the original Borderlands use of Mordecai’s Action Skill would send Bloodwing screeching into the fray, his razor sharp talons ready and willing to destroy any and every Bandit or Psycho in sight. Allocate Mordecai’s Skill Points just right, and you have a bird that will fuck. shit. up. The combination of Mordy and Blood (which I once saw referred to as “Birdecai”) was damn near unstoppable. And weirdly adorable because among all of the crazy death and destruction going about, Mordecai would call Bloodwing a “good boy” and shit.

Flash forward to Borderlands 2, where Mordecai repeatedly refers to Bloodwing as female. Right away I was like, “What the fuck? Blood’s a dude!” Advance a little more in the game, and suddenly Roland and Lilith refer to the bird as a male. As you might have guessed, this bothered me far more than it should have. However, it turns out that I wasn’t the only person vexed by the blatant inconsistency. A few forum threads popped up here and there which prompted BL2’s lead writer to set things straight:

“To answer your Bloodwing question, Bloodwing is a sequentially protandric creature. Halfway through Bloodwing's life cycle, he switched genders (not entirely unlike the dinosaurs in Jurassic Park).”

Solid explanation for sure, but I can’t help thinking that it’s just a clever way to clear up a legitimate continuity error that was caught too late in production to be fixed. At the end of the day it really has no bearing on the narrative, and it doesn’t make me love the game any less. (Because, seriously, this shit is great!)

Buuuuut I can’t help cringing and/or making faces whenever Bloodwing is mentioned. 

(Because I'm lame.)