An Interesting Time for Gamers

It is. I'd say 2008 is shaping up to fall just below what 2007 ultimately was, but I'm still very excited about the rest of 2008. E3 isn't technically over yet, but all other games yet to be announced or spotlighted are likely to be 3rd party borderline titles -- i.e. games that will either be just fine, mediocre, or plain terrible. There are exceptions, I'm sure, but this is how it usually pans out.

I watched all three press conferences today. Nintendo's and Sony's were live, Microsoft's was from yesterday.

I have to say, I was extremely impressed with Sony's presentation until I watched Microsoft's. It became very apparent to me that FFXIII's exodus to greener pastures is going to hurt Sony quite a bit -- more than I originally expected. Xbox seems to be cornering the Nintendo niche without forsaking the "hardcore gamer." I'm not sure I like the phrase "hardcore gamer" to describe anyone who likes their games with narrative, complexity, and depth, but we'll use it anyway since I'm hard-pressed to find a better descriptor. I may not like the exclusives and the "hardcore" games Xbox has lined up, but they'll sell like nobody's business. The avatar system and the new Xbox Dashboard pretty much even them up with Nintendo and Playstation in terms of overall presentation (though I am still partial to the minimalist PS3 dash). Sony seems a great distance away from putting a date on Home, which isn't great news for PS3 fans. The movie/TV rental/purchase system for PS3 is impressive (especially since they announced it today and it's already up and running as I write) but suffers from a thin library when compared to the Netflix system on Xbox.

I think connectivity options with the PSP and the fact that they offer HD titles give Sony the edge here, but it's not by much when all is said and done.

What I want to see -- what Jeremy and I want to see -- are old-school remakes that are Sony exclusives. We're talking Road Rash, Battle Arena Toshinden, Final Fantasy titles of the past, Vagrant Story, Jumping Flash, etc. Nintendo can update their titles. 3rd parties (poorly) update their titles. Sony should get their hands on these IPs and run with them. Spend some money here. They love doing it already, why stop now? Make the PS3 the gaming powerhouse you know it can and should be.

It will hurt them not to have exclusive FFXIII. It'll hurt because GTA4 sales for PS3 paled in comparison to GTA4 sales for 360. It'll hurt because Madden for 360 will probably outsell PS3 Madden by a 3:1 margin or something like that. When games show up on both consoles, people flock to 360, and that's bad business for Sony, great business for Microsoft, and wonderful business for the developer of the IP.

There's such an emphasis on innovation in peripherals when developers by and large are forgetting how to make wonderful games to go along with the innovation. Little Big Planet looks like pure magic and I really can't wait to get my hands on it. Sony announced an MMO action game that promises 256 players in a game at one time. I think we're righting the ship a little bit from this "Nintendo-centric" world we're in right now. I think it's funny how the once-saviors of the videogame industry (and financially, they still are) are now public enemy number one for anyone who gives a shit about really well-made games.

Don't get me wrong, I think the last Zelda and Mario IPs are fantastic and stand up incredibly well against games with better graphics, sound, and replayability on other systems. But, for the most part, Nintendo is only interested in coming out with little tech demos for their motion innovations. It's cool shit, but the rest of the industry seems positive they should follow suit and make everything about accessibility when quality is being forgotten.

It did make me happy to hear that no one thought Nintendo's familiar song and dance at E3 was a good thing. Wii Music looks exactly as lazy as what I was talking about earlier. Shaun White Snowboarding was a massive flop. These peripherals are cool, for sure, but developers should take some time to make sure the games that go along with them are fun beyond a "honeymoon" period.

I'm jumping around, I know.

Let me summarize by saying this: I like what Microsoft is doing from a business standpoint. They're making their product more accessible without jeopardizing their core market. They want a piece of the pie without forsaking the thing that brought them to the dance. Sony, while I'm impressed with how they stand up to everyone else now more than ever, seems to be responding to Microsoft by mimicking their actions. I think this path makes them less likely to stand out to developers and, subsequently, gamers. I think they should focus on making exclusive IPs that really pop in the market. Of course, this is risky because they could lose a whole lot of money, but maybe this is the next paradigm shift. Nintendo seems to think they're the Messiah of the gaming industry -- they thought the same thing in the mid-90s, too, when Sony, at that point not a developer of videogames, shoved the industry on its ass with the release of the Playstation. I wish Sony would quit worrying about Microsoft and Nintendo and start making game after game after game that make people realize why they started gaming in the first place. They could be forced out of this race doing this, much like Sega was, but I've always had a very, very soft spot in my heart for Dreamcast and Saturn.

And maybe that will be Sony's legacy, but I wish they wouldn't sell out this much to keep up with people who are losing sight of what gaming was and what it should be.



"Spirits in the Material World"
The Police

Our Final Fantasy Condolences

I'm up late mainly because I've been reading about all things E3. I'm excited that I don't have a job for at least one day, seeing as I can watch all of the press conferences tomorrow.

Yes, I'm excited about press conferences. I'll definitely have to be up in time for Sony's conference, but that shouldn't be much of an issue. Nintendo probably won't do anything too surprising, though I've read a rumor about a sub-$100 DS that's even smaller than the Lite. That would be cool. I think my mom officially owns my old DS. I'm sure I could get it back, but from what I understand she's really digging it. Maybe I can convince them to get me one.

Oh, to be young again.

I just have to be able to play the remake of FFIV. It's out on the 22nd, I believe. I still have a copy of The World Ends with You that I haven't been able to play. I hear good things about that. Even from what's his face at Zero Punctuation.

I guess the big news of the day (for me, at least) is the fact that FFXIII is no longer a PS3 exclusive. I own both the PS3 and 360, so it's not like I have a horse in this race, but I feel bad for the PS3. MGS4 sold like hot cakes at launch but I don't think it has staying power. I think it's a forgettable exclusive for PS3. Besides, what's stopping Konami from porting the latest installment to Microsoft's console in a year? They've done it in the past. I could probably write a novel about what's wrong with MGS4. It's not a bad game, but there are that many problems with it. Kind of makes it a special game. So many things wrong but still enjoyable.

Anyway, I think Little Big Planet looks awfully good for a PS3 exclusive, but I'm worried about the console as a whole. We should find out more about Killzone 2 tomorrow, but PS3 is hurting for a big-time exclusive. FFXIII could've been that exclusive. It should've been exclusive. I have a soft spot for playing FF games on a Playstation console. It's just a natural thing. XBox doesn't scream "JRPG" to me. Playstation seems so perfect for the hardcore gamer to spend 100+ on JRPG goodness. The latest trailer definitely shows more, too. Maybe not as much as I had hoped, but the only glimpse of the FFXII world outside of Rabanastre, the beach, and the Salikawood happened very close to its release back in 2006. 360 can have Gears of War 2. They can have Halo 1-25. Playstation and FF are PB & J.

Two games I don't give two shits about: Fable 2 & and Too Human.

One game I give twenty shits about: Fallout 3. My goodness. My only issue is people are gibbing over a headshot? Maybe that's how Fallout and Fallout 2 rolled, but it feels dated to me. Maybe they'll tone it down before release. I stopped "oohing and ahhing" over gibbing (unless it's grenade-related) about the time Unreal Tournament was released.

UPDATE: I think I realized that the demo I saw had the perk, "Bloody Mess," activated. That's why an enemy gibbed when shot in the head. Makes sense.



"Second Best"
Barenaked Ladies

Favorite Songs Part 1: Viva Las Vegas

No, not Elvis. Don't worry. I haven't totally lost my mind.

What's that? Shut up. Elvis sucked and you know it. It's a haymbuhguh.

He did, though. Yes, yes, yes, he's a pioneer, sure. But saying you like Elvis now is like saying you like Ric Flair's later work.

What? That went over your head, too? I know it didn't go over Jeremy's head. Which might be all that matters.

OK, well I don't like Elvis so that's the point.

Anyway!

Shawn Colvin, an Austinite by way of Ohio or some other fucking place, recorded a version of Elvis's hit about his love for Sin City. The song was used during the credits of The Big Lebowski.

Not the first song. Keep listening until you hear the voice of the girl that did "Sunny Came Home" like twelve years ago. You know? That song with the woman on the swing? They played it on VH1 every five minutes back in the day. That and "As I Lay Me Down to Sleep" by Sophie B. Hawkins.

As opposed to Elvis' version, this version is menacing, sad, and much, much more melodic. Of course, she does the thing I hate where the cover artist changes gender so he/she doesn't sound gay. I think that's dumb. Just me, though.

I forgive her, though. I think this version of the song is really beautiful. Kind of haunting in this really specific way, too. Y'all might the hate the way she says "viva," especially if you're turned off by Claudio Sanchez or the lead from Rush. She's a little raspier, though.

Love it, though. Give it a listen. It's hard to find for download unless you're a shithead and steal music. Like I did. This once. Maybe more than once.

What?



"Viva Las Vegas"
Shawn Colvin

Nigerians, Italians, Backwoods, and the Like

You know what movie is surprisingly unfunny? This is Spinal Tap. I laughed at all the things I had already seen: "this one goes to 11," the tiny Stonehenge, and the pod that didn't open. All funny. The cucumber wrapped in foil made me laugh. A few other things did, too, but for a feature-length movie the laughs were way too sporadic. Also, just in case you didn't know, Christopher Guest is apparently the most terrible bastard on earth when he must be interviewed for anything. I don't have any evidence here, but I've read it in a few places that at this point in his career he's a total cock during interviews. He also hates the term "mockumentary," but at the same time refuses to come up with another term for it.

He's also said that being funny isn't what he is, it's what he does for a living.

So apparently he's the antithesis of comedy. Makes me sad for someone who's made some funny stuff. Sorry he thinks comedy is total bullshit outside of a film.

Anyway, Rampvan update? Rampvan update.

I went to Hutto again the day after I wrote the previous post. They seemed upset that I was still having the problem, so good for them. I had a different technician than Little Bill the second day -- I couldn't shake the feeling that Little Bill felt really awkward about not fixing my car in the first place. I also can't shake the feeling that it's not at all his fault, that there's a deeper problem involved, but I felt like if I told him that without any prompting that would've opened up a huge opportunity for him to do this uncomfortable song and dance in front of all the waiting customers.

I just figured avoid it at all costs.

Good story, I know.

Sharon, the receptionist, struck me as intelligent, though she used some of the worst grammar I've heard a person over the age of 40 but under the age of 70 use in a long time. Kind of a shame. She was nice, though, which at times like these is really the only thing that matters.

I was the only person in the waiting room on day one, but on day two things were very different. The most uninteresting in attendance was a woman, about age 40, who was getting her van's lift repaired for her son, who I eventually found out had pretty bad CP and couldn't drive himself. She was nice, kind of a hick, but nice.

The uninteresting turned to interesting very quickly. In walk three people. One was a really, really plain, frumpy lady with a really bad limp and really orthopedic footwear. Just about as unfuckable as possible.

I know that sounds horrible, really, really horrible, but if you saw what I saw you'd know what I meant. She wasn't ugly or really unpleasant to look at or anything, but she was totally unsexy. Just the least sexy person I've ever seen. Hard to explain and maybe I'm the fucking worst, but whatever. It is what it is. She was accompanied by two elderly Italians, a man and wife, who spoke enough English to get by. The couple sat next to the first hick lady and the frumpy girl sat next to me. I listened in on their conversation and began to think they were the frumpy girl's parents, but then she referred to them as "visitors," which definitely made the quiet Italians seem mysterious and powerful from there on out. The man turned to me at one point and asked what was wrong with my car. I told him, and he asked some questions that amounted to me repeating the original story a few times to the point that I considered changing the story a little with each retelling.

That would've been rude, though. These people didn't deserve that.

I wanted to tell them that I really enjoyed their country, but I always assume compliments coming from Americans about a foreign country always come across as "Gee golly I sure did think that there McDonald's outside the Vatican was damn tasty! Couldn't believe they didn't have the McRib, though. Only in America, only in America..."

So I skipped all of that and asked about their problem, which was really only the frumpy girl's problem since they were "only visitors." It was a similar problem. She used a scooter to get around when she wasn't limping all over the place. Their problem got fixed extremely fast, which made me a little angry/frustrated. Can you blame me? I had already been there for an hour and they had been there ten minutes.

I didn't show my anger, though. Counterproductive at that point.

Frumpy and the Italians left, leaving me there with Hick Lady and Sharon. Well, in stroll in a 25-or-so-year-old-man with CP and his 6'5" Nigerian assistant named Mike. CP Man had a very specific white trash aesthetic. Bold polo shirt, baggy, deep blue jeans, two large gold earrings in both ears, Casper-white tennis shoes, and meticulously cropped facial hair.

Let's back up a second. CP Man has really bad CP, OK? Get it? He's got the inward-folding hands, no use of his legs, and frequently-strained speech. It makes sense that he has an assistant, sure, but meticulously trimmed facial hair? Someone had to do this for him. I guess there are either: people out there who would do anything for money or people who would do anything out of the kindness of their hearts. I'm hoping the second, but Mike the Nigerian would suggest the former.

The Nigerian had a laptop with him, which he used whenever he got a moment. These moments didn't occur with any frequency, because CP Man had to have The Nigerian take his iPhone out of his pocket and make phone calls to various people.

The man with useless fingers has a phone operated almost universally by touch.

Okie dokie.

He had a Bluetooth headset, too, which he couldn't operate because he couldn't lift his arms to his ear.

I'm straddling a line here between thinking this guy's a total douchebag and being impressed with his apparent refusal to think inside his own tiny box. I leaned toward douchebag until I learned that he's the head of some kind of disability group that plans events for local cripples. Nothing I'd be interested in, mind you, but it's certainly a cool thing for a lot of people who need it. So less of a douchebag -- and besides, if I had to have someone do just about everything for me I'd want it to at least be fun for him. The Nigerian had a Bluetooth headset and iPhone to fool with.

He also had to help CP Man pee, too.

Less cool thing to work with.

While CP Man and the Nigerian were there, the Backwoods Family entered the scene.

Mr. Backwoods was a man in his 70s with no legs.

Well, he had less than no legs. He was an honest-to-goodness egg of a man. His legs were not stubs, his legs were nonexistent. He was a weeble-wobble. He was Dr. Robotnik. He was a little wooden Russia doll with eight duplicates inside of him. Get it? He was rotund and sans legs.

His wheelchair was held together with tape. Medical tape. He was wearing an A&M hat (what did you expect?), old blue jeans tucked under himself, and a button-up farm-looking shirt. Mr. Backwoods was accompanied by Mrs. Backwoods. Mrs. Backwoods, no shit, was as close to a man posing as a woman (or maybe vice versa) as I've ever seen. Cut six inches off of her black, greasy hair and she was a living, breathing man about town. Her voice was lower than 80% of the men I know. I'm not exaggerating. I'm really not. Mr. B talked to Mrs. B like a husband would a wife, with many "sweethearts," "honeys," and "babes." However, it was later revealed the he is her uncle, but maybe not a biological uncle.

It was confusing.

This was one of their conversations:

MR: Well, ya know I think the best place I ever had deer sausage was there at the uh...
MRS: Oh the festival in Haltom City?
MR: Yes ma'am, the festival in Haltom City. That's where it was. Great deer sausage.
MRS: I ruhmember that. Though I think I remember having great sausage close to here once.
MR: Oh, in Taylor?
MRS: Oh yeah, in Taylor. I think it's great there.
MR: Ehhh, I dunno. They used to be good when theys were making sausage for them and them only and not the rest of Texas. Ya know?
MRS: I think it's good.
MR: Well, alls I know is I don't like the red wieners.
MRS: I ain't never liked the red ones.
MR: I don't e'en know what's in them red ones.
MRS: Maybe some kinda special deer. I dunno.
MR: I reckon so.

Here was another one:

MR: Well my daddy was a bootlegger.
MRS: Was he really?
MR: Yes he was. He had a successful farm until the Depression and then he had to bootleg to get by since nobody wuhn't buying nothin from the farm.
MRS: That's amazin.
MR: He made that there corn whiskey. He made big batches of that corn whiskey in a bathtub in the main house. They used this special corn and when it fermented...they call it "sour feed."
MRS: Is that right?
MR: Yeah, and sometimes they'd mix up the sour feed with the reg'ler feed and the chickens would get drunk.
MRS: Nah-ah!
MR: Oh yeah. One time...he had this rooster...and one time the rooster got so drunk on that sour feed he leaned back to crow in the mornin and fell right back on his rear.

Simply. Amazing.

They also talked about learning the banjo. Mr. B didn't care for the sound of the banjo but plays his "Ghee-tar" with some frequency. He gets magazines where can order his instruments since he "doesn't know nothin about the computer business."

Have we forgotten The Nigerian? Nope. We haven't.

At some point, the Backwoods Family got to talking about gas prices and what its doing to Mrs. B's trucker husband. Mrs. B used to be a trucker, by the by. The Nigerian breaks into a diatribe about how Americans aren't idealogically cohesive enough to do something about gas prices like collectively take a day off work to protest gas prices like some communities do in the UK. He said many things of the hypocrisy of Americans complaining but never taking collective action against the government in protest.

Now, these things The Nigerian spoke of, I don't really disagree with them.

But, given the company, I knew this would be bad. And it was. Not in a climactic way, but it was bad. The Backwoods Family commented briefly about how gas prices were bad and maybe the new elections would bring some change on that front. And then the changed the subject. Very quickly. The Nigerian wasn't done and wanted to talk more about it, heatedly, but I kind of pushed the conversation in a different direction with the Backwoods Family because I knew the poor guy would've been decapitated had this gone on any longer. Kind of a shame, but the Backwoods Family was looking more and more uncomfortable with each passing set of commentary.

It was the kind of hypocrisy the Nigerian was talking about.

And, the car didn't get fixed. Again.



"Get Innocuous!"
LCD Soundsystem

Let's Talk About Benito Mussolini

I got bored with yesterday's topic. I might get unbored, but for now we're moving on.

Let me tell you a story about my van and the people involved with making my van one of the most inexplicably fucktacular pieces of machinery in the history of man.

I got my first car back in high school. It was a Chrysler Town & Country (is there a dumber name for a car? It might as well be called the Chrysler Cigar Aficionado) -- I forget the year. It was champagne-colored because it was the only one on the lot that I could have immediately instead of waiting upward of two months for some factory to ship it to Texas. The car was fine, really. I had some good memories in that car. Making out in the back seat (it happened once or twice, I swear to 8lb, 6oz Baby Jesus), almost fucking killing someone in a Chili's parking lot, and driving with the hydraulics broken, making every speed bump a perilous crapshoot. It served me well for the most part. I can't recall a moment when the ramp failed. It was clanky and squeaky and was definitely an eyesore, but it was my eyesore.

The car just required too much maintenance for me. After a few years I decided I wanted a smoother ride -- a car that was less of a hassle. So I "upgraded" to a Toyota Sienna, a move that I thought got me closer to having a Lexus. Stupid. I know. Just because they share a same parent company doesn't mean they both make cars that can suck your dick while making your favorite beverage McGyver-style using pocket lint and antifreeze.

Duh.

I'm being unfair. The car itself is probably just fine. It's the conversion of the car into a "Braun Rampvan" that's turned the universe on its head and penetrated its earhole.

The factory used to be in Arizona, where they presumably churned out buttery-smooth car after buttery-smooth car, but they had to close that factory down I'm sure because of some kind of child labor violation or kiddie sex dungeon scandal. Regardless, they opened up shop in Indiana the week I decided to get a new car.

I'm sure this is how it went over there in Indiana.

Supervisor: Oh hey, we just got an order in for an 06 Sienna with a side ramp conversion.
Plant Worker: But we just opened up shop!
S: So?
PW: I had plans to take it easy this week and worship Benito Mussolini in my spare time.
S: Oh yeah? I hear great things about this Benito Mussolini guy.
PW: Yeah, he was a totally great guy -- really misunderstood.
S: Great, let's go kill some sugar gliders and worship Mussolini together.
PW: Can we round up some heroin get some tranny hookers first?
S: I thought you'd never ask!
PW: We'll leave the malevolent, autistic badger here to build that stupid Sienna Rampvan!
S: And how!

Just speculating. I think I'm right, though. This is all evidenced by the fact that my ramp works 46% of the time, which, if you're figuring this out at home, means I can't go fucking anywhere 54% of the time. I'll put on my "EQUAL RIGHTS FOR CRIPPLES" hat here for a second and say that we have a fucking right to be independent people if we have the physical means to do so. The physical means, in my case, are a functional vehicle and wheelchair ramp.

If this is too much to ask, then tell me. Really. I mean it. Has the technology that has given us Playstations, rocket ships, iPhones, pocket pussies, Bose stereo equipment, GPS systems, robots that perform surgery, and man-made black holes from Switzerland really left wheelchair ramp cars in the dust? Have we forgotten the little people here? The little crippled people?

Hell, years ago I was thinking how cool it'd be to have a hoverchair or something like that. But now, I find myself begging, begging, for a car that has a ramp that lowers and then raises again. It's a fucking Erector Set in a car. Ya Ya from The Sandlot could build a fucking Rampvan. Why can't these people in Indiana do the same thing?

It doesn't help that no one knows what the fuck to do with it. Everyone who touches it says they fix it. They don't. I mean today was a great example. They were super nice in good ol' Hutto, but Little Bill (there's a Big Bill, FYI) got the ramp to work fifteen consecutive times and told me he found no problems. "I just reset the system," he said. Thanks, Little Bill.

I then told him that I just knew that the second I got home it would break again.

And folks, it was one of those things...one of those things where I said something out of amusement rather than actual clairvoyance. I had the confidence that "resetting" the system would fix things. Hell, the fuckos in Mesquite replaced the whole engine days ago, so I thought that was it. Just reset the new engine and I'll be golden.

Little Bill and I had a fantastic laugh over the idea that it would break again and I was on my merry way back to Austin.

And I got home. I got home and decided to go out for a ride. Decided to go out to the bank, maybe swing by Best Buy to see if they have Mario Kart for Wii, who knows? Big day. Hell, it's my birthday, I figured I should treat myself to a DVD or a sandwich or something. But nooooooo.

I'm...I don't know. I don't know how it could be that complicated. I mean I would be a shit engineer. I know that. I don't know anything about it, but honestly, it seems like a pretty simple mechanism. It's a drawbridge. Pea-brained serfs built drawbridges. Are we nothing but pea-brained serfs? I hope not.

So yes, I rambled about my van. If you're not Lauren you probably don't have all the information you need to understand how fucking dumb this is, but hopefully I've filled in enough holes for you.

I'm going to sign off, make some Chicken and Dumplings for birthday dinner, and send one of my BMs to Indiana.



"So Long"
Rilo Kiley

About My New Old Dreams

I've always had vivid dreams. Anyone who's known me for more than five years knows that I have vivid dreams. They used to wear me out, but now they serve to do little but remind me of different times. They used to make me think about deeper meanings of things, but now they clarify the idea that things are only as deep as we want to make them.

Things are just more pleasant now. I still dream of the same things. I rarely have a dream I haven't had before. They usually involve the strife involved with teenage love or lust or obsession or some such -- you know, the ones with Marcia doing an interpretive dance of Jewel's "Hands" the same night Celia gave some speech to the 8th grade class about how friends are so important to her and never mentioned my name once. Or better yet, the ones where I take two girls to a formal dance and never pay attention to them as I watch Celia's every move. Sometimes I still have the ones about Heather's cold rejection in the aftermath of our relationship with the bleak, grey skies above. I have scattered dreams from college years, too, but they're less intense. I used to be so tired after these dreams.

The cool thing is that in each of these dreams I have a companion now. Maybe that's what makes everything more pleasant. Lauren's just a spectator, too -- she never interacts with anyone. She just sits there, next to me, watching my every social disaster. I don't think it's that deep. When I think of "me," I think of two people now. Maybe that's what love really is: when you get to the point that you don't separate yourself from that other person. Well, maybe that's what love really is to me.

I still experience the negative emotions in the dreams, but when I wake up I'm not stressed about it. It's fascinating to me.

I'll try explaining it within the context of one of the dreams when I'm less dead-tired. I have to drive to Hutto tomorrow. Woohoo!

Oh, it's my birthday. Weird.

Also, speaking of nostalgic dreams, I'm finally getting serious about this TV pilot. What's that? You don't know about that because I never tell anyone anything? Silly me.



"Inner City Pressure"
Flight of the Conchords

Serious Business, People

I am quite perplexed that, despite seeing the likes of the Grape Lady and the Falling Model Video, I find Serious Cat to be the funniest thing on the Internet.

I just can't stop laughing at it. He's been around forever, sure, but it's only been recently that I've become obsessed with his little, stone-cold serious face.

Anyway, Matt and Jeremy are coming down this weekend. It might be a laugh riot. We're seeing Goldfinger at Master Pancake Theater on Saturday night. That ought to be excellent. Hopefully I'll get to ride that shit-terrible elevator at Alamo. Remember that, Shelley? Remember yelling down at Lauren and I as we went .000000001 feet per minute down that long shaft? I do. I remember.

I'm making a little headway on the job front. I'm applying to a marketing position at Accenture's Austin office. Yep. Accenture. I'm OK with it because I'd be working in a department my dad and his cohorts have/had nothing to do with -- but yeah I'd probably have some pretty good references.

Not holding my breath, though. I'm meeting with a woman next week that should be able to help me narrow my search a bit. Every little bit helps, I guess.

OK, I did forget about this. Not as good as Serious Cat, but it's pretty good.

Camp Rock is pretty bad so far. Yesssssss.



"Breakin"
The Music