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A co-worker asked if I had a Wii. I laughed and gave a resounding, “Umm, no” as my response. My view on the Wii is admittedly fouled. I don’t own one, so it’s a little unfair of me to pass judgment on it. But this is my blog, and I’ll do what I want. Besides, you chose to read it… and life is all about the choices we make (which has been painfully rammed up our collective asses at work, like the fat sausage finger of a proctologist in dire need of a manicure).
It’s a video game console. Video games were invented for entertainment and for the fatass fuckers who can’t actually play football, baseball, basketball, hockey, or drive race cars, jet skis, motocycles, or shoot people, aliens, monsters, et cetera, et alii, ad nauseam, so on and so forth. Game-playing Americans have prided themselves on sitting in front of the TV while eating Cheetos and improving their hand-eye coordination. Who the fuck told Nintendo they could make a game console that requires the user to stand up, let alone exercise? Goddamn, I’ve been sitting in front of a computer all day long. When I get home, I don’t want to play a video game that requires, you know, physical fitness. Fucking Jap bastards, what the shit, man? The only thing gamer geeks should be exercising is their thumbs… and their right arms during certain other activities (if ya know what I mean).
When I did a little reading on the Wii, I found that people are complaining about soreness in their extremities after playing the Wii for long periods of time. This just proves my point, people; video game consoles are for flabby wastes of humanity, and that’s the way your Higher Power intended it to be. I find it hilarious that Nintendo responded to the many complaints of sore necks, shoulders, and joints. You know what their response was? "Work out more, fatsos… If people are finding themselves sore, they may need to exercise more." Slanty-eyed dicks! That’s what they’re doing while playing your console! That’s what’s causing their pain! If it wasn’t for your console, they’d be enjoying a pain-free evening while eating Krispy Kreme doughnuts. These poor people… arms flailing like the Wacky Waving Inflatable Arm Flailing Tube Man from Family Guy or an epileptic waterhead on crack, their Wiimotes flying out of their hands and smashing into their two thousand dollar plasma television screens… and all Nintendo can say is, “exercise more.” American gamers don’t want buns of steel, motherfuckers, they want buns of cinnamon! Sonofafuck, am I the only one that sees this as a pandemic? It’s only a matter of time before James Sokolove starts advertising on late night television. “Have you or a loved-one suffered serious or even minor injuries due to the use of the Nintendo Wii? Call the law offices of James Sokolove. We can help get you the money you deserve.” Those motherfuckers are lining up at the courthouse. By the way, Wiimote? How stereotypical of them. I know Japanese have a difficult time pronouncing their Rs, but that’s just ridiculous. “It’s fried rice, you plick.”
I’m writing this update in email before sending it to the server. Spry, the company that hosts my VPS is doing maintenance from nine tonight until five tomorrow morning. I doubt the server will be operational by the time I finish if I typed directly on the blog. All these goddamned Wikipedia links take for ever! I’m a little disappointed about this maintenance, though. I checked the uptime on the server this afternoon, and I had over 208 days.
wafwot@yavang:~$ uptime
14:48:03 up 208 days, 3:45, 1 user, load average: 0.08, 0.02, 0.01
Try that on a Windows server, bitches! It’s next to impossible unless you run Linux. Thanks a lot, Lyle, for killing my uptime! I keed I keed! I know they were moving servers to a new data center, and there’s no way to do that unless you unplug shit. The people at Spry are awesome, and I’ve never had a problem since I’ve been with them… Especially in the past 208 days! They’re rock fucking solid, baby! (hehe, let’s see ‘em use that quote on their web site.) As you can see, the server is back up and my quest for long uptimes begins again.
Tonight, we stopped at the Swinomish Indian reservation for gasoline and cigarettes. I paid for gas at the pump, but had to go inside the store for a carton of cancer sticks. I stood in line while two Indian cashiers (casino Indians trying to act all Slurpee Indian) chatted with a customer about puppies. I was standing there for about 25 minutes before I finally got my turn. I could be wrong about that time, it may have only been one minute… but hell, why should I (and the others behind me) have to wait at all? There is a silver lining though. I learned the ancient meaning of “Swinomish.” It’s a native American word for “Land of Postal Workers.”
Yesterday, I received an email at work, with the subject line, “Too much penis is never a bad thing.” Normally this type of junk goes straight in the Trash folder, but I think this particular email came from our Sales Department. No, it couldn’t have. Well, maybe. I don’t know. Ho-ly crap, what if it did? Somebody please hold me, I think I’m gonna cry.
Recently, people have berated me for talking too much about crap in my blog, like I’m a coprophiliac, or some shit. Oh, goddammit! I assure you I have no such fondness for crap. Poop is just funny, like farts, and it makes people laugh. I strive to make people laugh at this ridiculous fucked upness, and turds are an easy laugh. But to prove to those of you (Tina) that don’t think I can do it, I’ll go 10 posts without resorting to toilet humor. That’s at least two months worths of blogging. But, if I fall victim to some restroom antics like the phantom door shaker, or a barking co-worker, I will write it down. You may just have to deal with an entire update about dookie…
