Friday, 13 April 2012

The Calm Before The Storm

WARNING: The following text might (who am I kidding) contain profanities. If you are sensitive to such foul language.. well.. first of all, why are you reading my blog to begin with? Anyway, if you are sensitive to foul language and/or have a more conservative sense of humour. Here. Go there instead. You're better off. But don't start surfing around there, everything isn't safe there either.

17 days and counting down. It's 17 days until we (that's the plan at least) move to the UK. We don't know where we're moving yet, I have no job to speak of as of yet nor does my wife. I still keeping my fingers crossed on the job part. Things have a way of turning around when you least expect it. I know Dr. Phil would say I should take responsibility for my own reality. But I sort of prefer thinking more along the lines of "The light that shines the brightest, comes from the darkest of places". Either way, it's a bit scary to say the least. No, scratch that. It's fucking terrifying.

But in a way, I suppose that's what it should be like. Safety and comfort is for people who only dream about all the things the could do and later wish they had done. Not to say that Safeort (portmanteau of Safety and Comfort, just go with it.. I just made it up) and living your dream isn't mutually exclusive, but sometimes you just have to sacrifice some things.. to gain others. Some people live their whole life with unfulfilled dreams, unspoken desires and unrequited loves. I don't want to be one of those people. One thing that was made painstakingly clear to me some years ago is that our time here is limited at best. For some, even more limited than for others. But what a waste of oxygen I would be if I squandered my own possibilities. And for what? Because I am scared? Well yeah.. but of which, failing or succeeding?

I imagine Mr. Luther is turning in his grave.

But yeah, still scary obviously. Just like any great unknown would be. But fear not, as I have an awesome back-up plan.


I bet you're thinking prostitution. You are, aren't you? Shame on you. How dare you assume I would ever.. could ever stoop so low.


That's Mr. Man Whore to you and I charge by the hour, just like.. well.. every other prostitute I suppose, I don't really know how they go about their business. Maybe I should have done a little more background research before this particular segment. Oh well, too late now.

See? Even in this time of uncertainty I still have a sense of humour. What will our moving mean for this blog? Probably not much though I suspect I might have a difficult time posting actively at first, until we have settled in. Yeah, I know what you're thinking "How could you possibly post less than you do now?". To that.. I.. well.. don't have good answer. But I'm sure I could!

One thing is certain, a (big!) part of me is looking forward to finally moving so that I can hopefully start being more creative with other things again. I want to record something for my youtube channel, but I just don't feel like I have the energy to unbox my recording equipment , plug it all in, record, equalize, export, film some footage, import, edit it together, upload it.. and then after that, write some witty post about it. But as soon as I feel more energetic, I will.. I want to. Of course I would have to decide which song to record too. I should probably put that as step 1. But which song?

Until next time, remember.. you can also have a dream, even if it's a stupid one.

Saturday, 7 April 2012

Go, Go, Fallout-Boots!

I'll be short and get to the point right away. Go, get the original Fallout from for free! You obviously need an account if you don't already have one, which you should have anyway. Until 23.59 GMT on 8 April it's totally mindbogglingly free.. Already own Fallout? Well go get it anyway, you also get the 205 page Fallout Bible.. and wallpapers.. and the Soundtrack. Clicky clicky. even make sure that older games work on newer systems, how awesome isn't that!

If you check out this thread in No Mutants Allowed you can even get a high-resolution patch, you know.. if the rose-tinted shades of nostalgia isn't enough.

Tuesday, 3 April 2012

Come Over Here and Smell My Man-Cans

Because, you know... Real men don't own scented candles unless they come in a metal can and smell like bacon when you light them? Right? Or maybe candles that smells like Gun Powder. Or Dirt.

I am seriously not making this shit stuff up. Apparently (I must assume) if I were to be a real man I wouldn't want a candle that smells like vanilla or some other "girly" smell. Which is really too bad, because I quite like vanilla.
Just like a real woman wouldn't be caught dead using a no-brand random hammer she found in the super-market, but no no no.. she needs to use this pink hammer or maybe even host a (are you fucking kidding me) Tool Party.

Then again, I imagine it would be kind of fun to try to pick up someone at a bar with the line "Hey baby, wanna come back to my place, and smell my man-can? My man-can smells like bacon". And then, when (and if) you somehow manage to get her back to your place, you would.. you know.. actually show her your bacon-scented man-candle.