Ding!

So, I'm a quarter of a century old now. Hoorah.

I celebrated this monumentous occasion by ingesting some manner of alien virus that attempted to end me. This was a less than pleasant experience all-around. I don't know about you, but spending your very early Tuesday mornings sitting on cold porcelain and pleading for your Maker to strike you down is not my idea of a good time.

I played Call of Duty 4 with my friend Kev last night, which was refreshing. I forgot how much I really enjoy playing video games with people, i.e. in the same room, shit-talk flying through the air, howls of laughter or swearing filling the room with a sort of heated comraderie that is impossible to replicate through the Internet. The matches were terribly one-sided, as Kev has never played the game before and I am like unto a god of murder, but even so it was a great deal of fun. In the end we began playing what we called Ninja Battle, where we used nothing but Desert Eagles, grenades, and knives. Hilarity ensued.

In other video game (specifically, WoW) related news, MAGE has started raiding Karazhan, which has been by turns fun and frustrating beyond the capacity for mortal language. Fun, because it's an entertaining run. Medivh, the man that owns the place, sure knows how to hire good help, seeing as how even his fucking waiters are level 72 Elites. Most places I go to can't remember if I wanted onions or not, let alone battle to the death with ten of the world's greatest warriors. The bosses are all fun as well, requiring strategy and tactics unseen in your traditional instances.

However, Karazhan has opened my eyes to the world of SERIOUS BUSINESS raiding. There must be something in the air in that place, but people somehow forget that they're playing a game and start taking things way too seriously. It boggles the mind. Seeing as how I don't forget this, I have somehow become a sort of lightning-rod for complaints. During one run, I received (within seconds of each other) four seperate in-game "tells" complaining about other people in the run. How a (theoretically two-hour instance run can generate such drama is a mystery to me, but it's souring the overall experience.

Previously, I had mentioned a book entitled The Name of the Wind by Patrick Rothfuss. I have been remiss in my duty to inform you that it is totally fucking sweet. Easily the best fantasy book I've read in years. Somewhere along the line authors forgot that main characters were supposed to be awesome. Mr. Rothfuss has not, and for that I thank him a thousand times. I can now stand firmly on my platform of refusing to read books featuring the lead singers of shitty emo bands with pride, and may point to NotW as an example to all who aspire to literary success.

However, he has pushed back the release of his second book, which has me debating the proper course of action. The reasonable one, of course, is to sit back and wait. After all, he has good reason for the delays (I know this because I read his blog, hopeless, drooling fanboy that I am). The unreasonable one involves a trip to Wisconsin, several feet of rubber tubing, and a chicken. Yes, a chicken. Use your imagination.

That's all for now. Peace!