Here are the top queries, referrals and articles that brought people to my world in the past year. WassUp rules.
…
“ray gun nazi zombies”
Makes sense. I created the damn thing. Well, Max made the ray gun.
“jesse snyder”
I hear that guy sucks. I read it on the Internet like ten words ago so it must be true.
“nazi zombies ray gun”
Huh. That’s a lot like the first one, but I’ll take it.
And thus, Lord Seattle spake: “Those who come from CaliLand, I cast upon ye the gray and the wet and the cold. Thine faith shall be tested.”
…
Each photo has a much larger and therefore more awesome version linked to it.
…
Turn the volume up. Way up. What’s that you hear? Nothing. Absolute calm.
The first thing I notice are shapes that start appearing naturally. I love the way the circle around the base of the tree begins forming. Snowless. It won’t be that way for long.
One one one. There you are. Locked in. Cycled. Decompression chambers are ready to go. Yes, I know. No! It’s fine. I promise. Really!
Lesseeeee… Fuel is fine, we picked up enough when we went around that last system. Good. Planet coming into focus. Good. Right. Auto LSK switch active. We’ll be fine.
Siiiiiigh. What now. Yeah I know. They’ll be fine! Their suits will cover it. I promise! You have to listen to me. Trust me! Directive 3.
See? Just open it. Good. Okay. This is normal! It’s fiiiiine!
90% is within nominal range. Seriously! Why would I lie to you? Do you think I would put them all at risk? You have my DNA scans! You know I’m genetically predisposed to avoid lying! What are the odds I’m lying right now. Go ahead. See?
She snapped off the radio dial. Music ceased to exist.
Frantically, she looked around. Something was missing. Something was wrong. It wasn’t right. What could it be?
My nails. Fuck all. My nails. They told me to specifically to fix my nails. Remove the polish. Simplify. Blend in. It’ll be fine. Don’t worry. Have a smoke.
She’d have to deal with it for now. Time was running out.
She applied downward pressure to the interior handle of this German-made beauty, circa 1934. Click. The interior mechanism released perfectly. Good shape. Solid design. Built to last.
She stepped out of the vehicle and in one quick motion, pulled out a lighter, lit, and took a drag of her cigarette. Fine American tobacco.
600 yards away, in a third story building was a German sniper who had been watching the vehicle closely. He zoomed in on the suspicious woman now smoking and leaning against her car. He zoomed in on her hands. Her nails.
He squeezed the trigger. A muffled shot rang out. She was killed instantly. The shell hit the floor, bounced twice, then rolled into a corner. Forgotten.
Note, I know 5 * 7 != 30. It’s intentional. Absent kids and all that!
…
Math class. 7th grade. Mr. Klein was demonstrating algebra problems on the chalkboard, mainly ignoring the class.
Henry was trying to get his attention in the middle of the lecture. What we he saying?
“Hey… pssst… deodoooowww.”
Deo-dow? What was that? What was he asking for?
Henry began snickering.
“Deeeeeeeeeeel. Deow!”
Oh God, he has that half smirk which means he’s up to no good. Is he making fun of me? Right now? What the hell is he saying?
“Hey deeeeeeeoooo doooooooooooooowwwwww!”
Again, another exercise. Yes I know #1 hasn’t been posted. It’s cool. I might not do these any more. But they are fun for now.
…
Back on the couch again. This time for a good reason. Snow day! Hells yeah. So many pictures. I need to go through those. Maybe write about it? Haha… who cares.
I don’t think I get wine culture. There’s something to it, I’m sure. Most wine tastes awesome to me so I have a hard time discerning. Like, expensive ass wines taste good. But generally so do regular ones. But then you stack a reaaaaally good wine against a shitty one and it’s no contest. Funny how that works.
Snow day. So good! Took the good camera out to get some decent photos. Shot some video. Super peaceful. Probably freaked a few people out with my camera but that’s how it usually goes. Getting low on the ground, pointing it towards people’s cars and houses. Most people hate that. I don’t really care to be honest, because I have the right to do so. USA! USA! Besides, its not the car I care about, its the icicle on the car or whatever. I zoom. I keep your license plates private. I am a good neighbor. Worry not.
Lots of kids out. Some with parents even!
Hey! Non-fiction stuff for a second!
I recently finished Call of Duty: Black Ops on Veteran difficulty. Yep, the game I left during pre-production.
It’s interesting leaving a game two years ago and finally getting to play it. Overall I thought the game was a good experience. However, one thing that stood out was the use of infinite spawners in various places throughout the game.
It made me think back on a time I was being interviewed for a design position. Someone asked me what I thought of infinite spawners. I told them I didn’t care for them in general but that they can be used in the right context.
They thought I was wrong. I’m glad I didn’t end up working for them.
Part 1 found here and Part 2 found here.
…
They were delirious now. Yelling. The sound of the engine was extremely loud. They were one police officer away from being on the wrong end of that courtroom they were speeding towards. One slip of the wheel from a horrible accident. One mistake away from death. They didn’t care. The car would breakdown before Brian’s foot would come off the gas pedal.
Cars whizzed by at a dizzying pace as Brian switched lanes to avoid rear-ending vehicles going half his speed on the 101. They laughed hysterically as they imagined what other motorists must have seen.
113.
CLUNK!
Part 1 found here. Read it first.
…
When he arrived at Brian’s, Chris’ Blazer was already parked in the driveway. He got out of the cockpit and went straight to the downstairs of Brian’s house. The usual hangout spot. For once, they weren’t there. Instead they were upstairs arguing with Brian’s mother.
“No Mom! We’re not taking her! We’re leaving! Let’s go!”
“You have to take HER SHE TOLD YOU ABOUT IT!”
Brian’s parent’s were yellers. Often, they would just raise their voice in the middle or near the end of their sentence. Brian would do the same in retaliation. Both he and his parents would then begin their sentences at a full tilt yell. Like clockwork he and Chris usually exited the room, attempting to contain their laughter and failing miserably.
They waited outside. Brian’s mother always took the female side in any argument, and this one was particularly nasty. After a few more minutes of screaming, Brian emerged.
I don’t condone speeding. It’s really never a good idea. However, I often wonder the fastest people have gone on four wheels. On a public road.
…
Saturday afternoon in the summer. Nothing to do but play video games, talk on the phone, run around outside, hang out at each others houses. And get bored of it all.
Then the phone rang.
Blood pressure rising. Yes. Excitement. Pavlovian. Phone calls meant excitement. Something was about to change. What could it be? He waited for his parents to answer.
Whenever a girl called the house, his mother would yell it out in a sing-songy manner. It really embarrassed him for some reason. Probably because whoever the young lady on the other end could hear the whole affair and in his mind it killed any chance, however remote, he could have had with her. Teenage social castration. The worst thing imaginable. His mother was simply excited that girls were calling him.
“PhooOOOOOhhhOOOOohhhhoone! Iiiiiiiit’s Miiiiiiiiiiiaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhh!”