Rapid Fire Update, featuring buying thingies!

-->Tanja's been sick lately, from a cold I gave her (I got over it in like three days, AGAIN) and it's a worse cold for her than it was for me (AGAIN!). We stayed in all yesterday watching Pride and Prejudice (I wish people of Jane Austen's time could tell people to fuck off when those people are rude and bitchy. Stupid protocol in stupid polite society) and The Sting (which is one of my all-time favourites and Tanja didn't hate. Score one for the plus category!).

-->Despite Tanja's optomistic reassurances that I'd get boatloads of money back, around $3-500, turns out that thanks to inSuck's undertaxing me when I worked there, I actually OWE fifty bucks in tax. WAS. NOT. AMUSED.

-->Am trying to change my avaliability at work, so as not to work ALL closes until 11 pm every time. May catch hell from bosses. May toss hell right back. Fuck 'em.

-->Tanja keeps calling my black wool greatcoat a "Craig coat". Damnit! I bought that coat when Craig was like 15! It was a Me Coat before it was a Him Coat!

-->Oh, and someone tell Tanja that Million Dollar Baby is a good movie so she'll watch it with me. Ditto Sin City.

Things we bought in our spending spree:
-->Fancy-schmancy new computer with 17" screen and new printer (dubbed HEX, the "Thinking" Machine), on which I can use my iPod (HEX Jr.), Age of Mythology, the new AoM Expansion Pack Titans (in which you can get a giant 100 feet tall, made of molten rock that I call THE GREAT METAL LORD!) and finally, Generals! No more Generals sitting in the corners looking sad!
-->New coffee table. Ooh, spacious.
-->Breville sandwich toaster. No more cold bread for me!
-->Dinner at fancy Rubyo's restaurant. Sort of like Tapas, but not Spanish. Finally! Posh grub we can stuff ourselves on.
-->Gorillaz new CD for Tanja, and Ron White's DVD "They Call Me Tater Salad" for me.

Argh. I hate mechanical shenanigans.

So I turn on the TV to watch a Futurama DVD, but there's sounds and no picture. I unplug, replug, and fin-angle the cords, no picture still. I try different cords. Nada. I freak, get the receipt, see that it's only 6 months old, still under warranty. I call the number in the manual, it's wrong. I look up the number in the L-Z phone book, it refers me to the A-K phone book. I call. They tell me to call the store it was bought at. I do. They say bring it in, we'll fix it if we can. I can Tanja, tell her it's busted and that I'll take it in today on my way to work. She sighs, but is not mad. So, I continue making lunch, and try to put a movie on the PS2. No picture, just sound. I call Tanja back, say it's the brand-new TV, not the less-new DVD. As I'm talking, she tells me to turn off the TV and turn it back on again. And I did. And suddenly everything worked. Picture, sound, the whole shebang. damnit. Um, I mean. Great. Yeah. I got worked up for nothing.

I must say, I really enjoying hanging out with those machines. Hey, a suicide booth! So long suckers! (Craig, Ted and Simon are the only ones who'll get that.)

And now I feel like a moron.

I called Insight, because the bastards hadn't sent me my group certificate so I can do my tax (well, so Tanja can do my tax, but still). I think about it all morning, trying to remember the exact dates I worked there (I think May to early November) and my ID number (2399? 2398? Anyone? Bueller?), and what their number was. I finally check the white pages, get the faxline, check again, finally get the number. I get a female voice I don't recognize who identifies herself as "Leer", and I run down the situation (without mentioning my name, I add), finishing with "...and I'd like my group certificate, so how would I go about getting that?" The voice goes "Well, we could send it to you, or, if you're Lucas, you could always come pick it up." It's Leah. Former hanger-outer with the rest of us idiots. I didn't recognize her. I still don't recognize her. So I tell her to send it to me, and then give my address, and get the hell off the phone. I stand still for ten seconds, before realizing that it was Leah, and then I feel like a schmuck, as I was rude and abrupt to a former aquaintance I haven't spoken to in months. Bugger. So now I'm here. A moron.

Ok, ok, ok...

...I'll update, you whiny people you.

Yes, back from Canadia, after taking 9 planes and crossing over 19 time zones (I lost count) in two weeks, I have returned. I got to see my Dad, and my sisters and Mom too, and picked up some cool stuff (Futurama 2, 25th Hour, Blue Collar comedy tour, and a bunch of painting stuff among other things) and some not so cool stuff (Mom, those board shorts, what were you thinking?). I'm now trying to adjust to extreme jetlag, and getting back used to working (I realized I dislike people telling me what to do. Does that make me an anarchist?).

Anna! Nice to hear from you. Keep in touch more often, will you? By the way, I'm part of your cult now! Tanja got me a little green iPod.

As for Insprite, yeah, yeah, yeah... I'll update whenever. Quit buggin' me.

Nostalgia again (video games, though, not music)

After picking up a faulty Timesplitters2 disc from the video store, I got a credit for a free game rental. Against all odds I grabbed Virtua Fighter 4. Now, I owned Virtua Fighter 1 on Sega Saturn (and eventually Virtua Fighter 2, but I’ll get to that later) and I played the crap out of it. The graphics were shitty by today’s standards, but it was the first 3d fighting game, and also the first in a long time to involve no “magic” attacks. Yep, no fireballs or flying, just hard hitting, realistically portrayed martial arts moves. Fun freakin’ times. Later, I picked up Virtua Fighter 2 and never played the first one again. Same gameplay, MUCH improved graphics and the addition of Shun-di (an old drunken-style kung fu master, funny shit) and Lion, a cocky-as-hell French Praying Mantis style… guy, who rapidly became my new favourite.

Anyway.

New one. Graphics are Tekken-level, each character has several “stances” where the same combinations produce different attacks, and I am loving it. My thumb is hurting already and it’s only been a day. Plus they’ve added a Shaolin monk guy who doesn’t attack much. He lets you attack, then deflects it and hurts you. A lot. Although there is a downside. The graphics got better, but the bottom dropped out on the vocal work. Lion sounds like Wheelie for Transformers, or Igner, Mom’s youngest son from Futurama. Did you lot learn nothing from SSX Tricky? At least bring in Bif Naked, David Arquette and Billy Zane to record!

But I can put up with it to watch Lion leap onto someone’s back, strike their eyes, throat, and break their neck.

What?!? I’m portraying my geek status for all to see!

Reposted from a comment in Caz's blog, and inspired by Tanja's The-Models-inspired rambling...

"I'm going to buck the trend... and talk not about evil people, but about my an-again-off-again love affair with Green Day. Yeah.

The first album I ever bought with my own money was Dookie, by Green Day. And as you do at thirteen, you memorize every track. I recall attempting to drum along to Burnout, and tiring the crap out of my weedy little arms (call Tre Cool unfancy if you like, but for a non-metal and non-Neal Pert-drummer, the bastard isquick.) I had taped tapes of my friends' Kerplunk and 1033 Smoothed Out Slappy Hours. I snapped up Insomniac right away, and did likewise (Brain Stew-Jaded forshadowing my love of songs that switch styles smoothly). Unfortunately, I hit a poor streak shortly before Nimrod came out, so couldn't buy it. My flatmate in the twelfth grade had it, so I didn't stress, but I had broken my Green Day buying streak. I watched Warning go by, though I heard the singles on the radio, and scoffed at International Superhits as a money-grab (I hate greatest hits compilations with no new material, except "poprocks and coke" and "maria"), until American Idiot came out. I had downloaded the title track, and thought it not bad, and then badgered Tanja to get it with her staff discount. Of course, Borders being bastards who raise prices, it was still too much, discount included, for a casual buy. Spotted it at Fish Records, snapped it up, and loved it immediately. Stand-out tracks: Boulevard of Broken Dreams (I know it's been played to death, but I like it, damnit), and especially Jesus of Suburbia and Homecoming (I have a weakness for Broadway-musical-type style changes. I blame Mom forcing me to listen to Les Miserables when I was young). This album actually makes me wish I could still sing along with Billie Joe (stupid hormones) without my voice breaking.

Now, I know Green Day aren't considered cool anymore (I don't buy all this "yer-a-sell-out-i-you-can-sing-AND-afford-a-meal" garbage), but I likes them. I actually snagged Nimrod for $9.95 at JB two days ago while buying the new Flogging Molly album (which Borders said wasn't distributed in Australia. HA! Gout la lime!).

The second week I was at Borders, a harried looking Westie Mom type came bustling in holding a little girl and a giant Boost Juice and corralled me while shelving and asked for the new Good Charlotte album. I pointed her in the right direction, and returned to shelving. She found it, came back to me, holding Green Day's Insomniac album and asking "Is this the new one?" I chuckled and said, "Well, no. The new one is American Idiot, although this is a decent one. Who's it for? Are they after a certain track, or anything by this band." She looked offended (sorry, honey, you don't look like the Berkeley Punk type with your stretch pants and puffa jacket), and said "It's for my thirteen-year-old son." I found her American Idiot, though sent her off with a strong recommendation for the band.

It was only after she left that it hit me that the first CD I'd just recommended to a thirteen-year-old a CD by the band who made the first CD I'd ever bought as a thirteen-year-old. I felt ancient. Old. But also kind of cool that the cycle of rock was rolling on. Heh. Ok, that last line was a bit cheesy.

Whew. Didn't mean to write this much. Actually, I may put this into my Blog as a new entry. Hooray for lazy!"

And I did! I am Lazy-Man! Fear my wrath!

Guh. Ogg Tired.

Stocktake last night. 6 pm to 4:15 am. Lots of looking at small numbers on stickers, much Red Bull and Pepsi to stayy awake. Finished off night by lifting boxes of CDs. Ouch. Came home just ten minutes before Tanja was to get up to go to work. Fell asleep. Slept til 12:35. Still tired. Guh.

Frustration

Damn it. Why do good movies always get released JUST after I buy something. Last Samurai, 28 Days Later, Army of Darkness, Undercover Blues, Fight Club, Shawshank Redeption, all the Crow sequels.... They're all under 20 bucks. Then they've released the El Mariachi-Desperado-Once Upon A Time In Mexico box set for 35 dollars. Dagnabbit! Don't these people WANT me to have money?

I'm drowning my sorrows in Shaun of the Dead.

"Aren't you gonna thank me?"
"What for?"
"Tidying up."
"It doesn't look that tidy."
"Well, I had a few beers when I finished."

Also, Blogger seems to be playing up and not letting me post new entries. It freezes when I try to load the update screen. And of course, now that I say it's doing so, it works. Typical.

Naughty Laughter

Tanja and I were watching the Melbourne Comedy Festival Debate last night. The topic was "Does God have a sense of humour?" and it was bloody wonderful.

Anyway, one of the guys went up and mentioned that his proof that God DID have a sense of humour was all the religious memorobilia sold in Jerusalem, like Pens and hats of Jesus. He said he tested them by going into a stall and asking for a giant Jesus head that you can use to squeeze orange juice, and the crown of thorns spin to harvest the juice, and the juice comes out the mouth. (I was already chuckling at this point) The vendor pauses, then says "No... we don't have those... but it's a bloody good idea!"

Wait for it...

"We can call it the King of the Juice!"

I nearly died.

I'm going to hell. Me, Martin Scorcese and Denis Leary are catching the express bus.

Oh, and two new comics.

Yadda Yadda Yadda

New comics, and stuff.

Oh, and going to see Hitchhiker's on Saturday. Huzzah!