Shinmaru

[quote name='Semjaza Azazel']I don't think any of them will fail, in terms of next gen consoles... However, one will always have to be in third place. At this point, I would figure it would be Nintendo, but it's possible things could change by then.[/quote] Basically. Personally, I don't think that any of the next-gen consoles will 'fail' and I certainly hope that none of them fail. I won't be buying all of them, as I don't have the money for that, but having as many options available as possible can mean nothing but good for gamers, in my opinion. Some people talk as if Microsoft or Sony or Nintendo totally blowing it would be the greatest thing in the world. I can't understand that line of thinking lol. [quote name='natetron46']I think the Nintendo DS will fail. Nintendo has fallen of the radar and Sony and M$ have taken over for it. I just dont think that a nintendo product will sell well in America. It has a huge fanbase in Japan too, but not anymore in America. Once Nintendo faded, people moved on and I dont see any reason for them to come back to the DS. I think that if people want a handheld, they will turn to the PSP because Sony is still around and it is a name that people know and are familiar with, especially new gamers that werent here for the Nintendo days.[/quote] Nintendo's been dominating the handheld scene since they first introduced the Game Boy. They've lost a lot ground in terms of home consoles, but they've been the king of the handheld scene for as long as I can remember. The GBA still sells really well. The DS has done well so far, sales-wise. I don't think that the DS is going to fail at all, though I don't think that it's unrealistic for PSP to get a nice chunk of the market, certainly more than any other competitor has managed to get. I'd be glad to see it, too.

[quote name='Charles']Perhaps Japan_86 and I could meet up someday, make a sex tape, sell it a la Paris Hilton and become millionaires. Perhaps Annie and a few others could join in and we could make the first OtakuBoards orgy. Baron, of course, will be excluded.[/quote] I'm pretty sure that would remove a bit more mystique than you'd like, if you catch my drift. ;) Anyway, I find it sort of funny how many people have me listed. Personally, I don't really think I'm quite as interesting in person (mostly because my writing is far and away more lively than my speaking lol), so most you would probably be disappointed if you met me in person. Best to keep up the mystique that Charles was talking about :p When I've met people I've known online, it's always been in conjunction with something else that I was doing at the time. Like, when I met OtakuSennen, KarmaOfChaos and instantramen14 back in July, I was taking my sister to Anime Expo in Anaheim. When I met Arcadia back in August at Universal Studios Orlando, I was on vacation with my family in Orlando. I don't think that I'd go anywhere with the sole purpose of meeting an online friend. There would have to be some other reason for me to go out, so that I'd have something else to do if plans didn't work out, or whatever. Among people that I'd be pretty interested to meet, though...Syk3 would top that list. He was my first friend on OB, and he really introduced me to the rest of the community. I sincerely doubt that I'd know as many people as I do if it weren't for Syk3. He's great to talk to, really easygoing, and I usually have a good time with him. So yeah. Helps that he's a cool guy who's worthy of my friendship, too. ;) I'd like to meet Semjaza Azazel, as well. I'm actually sort of surprised that not many people (if any) have mentioned him prior. He's way cooler than I am. I guess you're all just afraid of his amazing wealth of knowledge on things that have no real use in life. He's intimidating like that, I guess. But, yeah, it'd be cool to meet him. He's gotten me into a lot of the bands that I currently listen to, it'd be real fun to talk games with him (I think he has more gaming knowledge than I have, really), and we could hit a concert or something, while the rest of you nerds are living it up on your nerd machines. [quote name='DDG][size=1][color=gray][b]BlueYoshi/Wingnut Ninja:[/b] Where did he get off to? He introduced me to just so many awesome movies, plus he's an awesome guy and he's my only bro. *hugs him, wherever he is*[/size'][/color][/quote] He's Bombu now. Tell him to stop changing his name! :D

Yeah, after thinking about it a bit more, my opinion of the book has lowered a bit. I still like it, and it was a fun read, but the character development of the two title characters was a tad disappointing. Crake was never really much more than this really weird genius boy, and, well, I found myself not really caring much for Oryx at all, actually. Even after [spoiler]she tells Jimmy about her being taken from her village, and being taken to sell roses and do porn and crap. I guess I'm just evil, I don't know. But I just wasn't feeling Oryx.[/spoiler] I kind of sympathized with Jimmy, mostly because you know he means well (sometimes :p), but human emotions and desires (greed, lust, etc.) always cloud his mind, and he ends up doing stupid crap. So, yeah, when you're able to see what Jimmy's going through, you can sympathize with him. But when you see him [spoiler]sleeping around, doing drugs, and watching kiddy porn[/spoiler], you're like "What a freaking loser." So yeah.

[center][b]"Soy Un Perdedor"[/b][/center] Here I am, sitting at my computer, wondering what exactly I should be writing. It should be coming into my head, I should be getting inspiration, but nothing is here. The page is as blank as ever. Why is that? Why can I not think of anything worthwhile to write down? I?m a loser, baby.

Graduating from highest school was my biggest moment from this year. I'm finally free from the general crappiness of high school, but that also means that I've lost contact with some close friends of mine that I've know for years. Except for the odd e-mail and whatnot, I'm almost never in contact with them. It sucks. Starting college would qualify as big, too, I guess :p It's been good so far. I did well first quarter, and I certainly like the schedule a hell of a lot better. The experience has been good so far. What else? Had two big in-person meetings with OB friends over the summer, too. Got to see OtakuSennen, KarmaOfChaos and instantramen14 at Anime Expo in July (I'm going again in July, yay), and I got to see Arcadia while I was on vacation in Florida. Had a ton of fun each time. :)

I've got Futurama Season One, and I'm planning on buying the other seasons eventually, as well. I really, really like the series a lot, and the excellent commentary available on the Season One boxset has encouraged me even more to go hunt down the other boxsets. My dad has the Season 1-3 boxsets of Seinfeld. I never really watched the show much during its initial run, but my dad loves the show, so it's as good a time as any to start watching the show. I skipped over the Batman: TAS Vol. 1 boxset for some inexplicable reason...I feel stupid for having done that now. Should've bought it. I'd also like to be able to buy the Twilight Zone boxsets that are coming out soon. That would be a great buy for me.

[QUOTE=Dagger IX1]Out of [strike]morbid[/strike] curiosity, what makes you think that people [i]want[/i] to read stupid, pointless and annoying messages? ~Dagger~[/QUOTE] The hilarity? Though you could just get a myOtaku and wait for people to sign your guestbook. I guarantee that within minutes you'll have plenty of pointless and annoying messages. :D

I'll just respond to the clock stuff right now lol. When I'm finished maybe I'll go into themes, ideas and whatnot, but for now I'll just address the clock stuff lol. Spoilered in case people don't want to read it, or don't care about it :p [spoiler]As was pointed out by other people, when I wrote the first part I exploited a lot of Western cliches. That's mostly what I was going for here, except with Sci-Fi/future world cliches. With the alarm clock, I was poking fun at the cliche of technologically advanced machinery being confusing (as with the coffee machines, as well), and with even the simplest of machines being used to restrict privacy. Why would they need a password protected alarm clock? To protect their privacy. I think that they very idea of that is extremely amusing. To think that your privacy would be under so much danger that you would need a password protected alarm clock. It's out there, and it's probably too outrageous to ever come into fruition, but it represents an idea, albeit a very paranoid idea lol. But, hey, it's a cliche, and it's begging to be made fun of. Cliches can still be very useful to make points if you use them correctly (and hopefully I did :P).[/spoiler] ...man, it's tough to keep myself from launching into a full-on lecture about everything else XD

Good story. The writing flowed pretty well, there was a fair amount of well-employed description, and the scenario was pretty believable (though I've not experienced anything like this myself, as of yet :P). I also appreciate that you didn't go too over the top with the dialogue like I see a lot of people who write stories like this do. The dialogue conveys the emotion, but it's not overly melodramatic. Good work.

I suppose that I had this coming >.> I thought the chapter was amusing. I'm always cool with being made fun of a bit, especially since I annoyed more than a few people with my layout, haha. Ah, those were good times. I'd also like to add that the chapter was written well, and flowed very nicely. You're a skilled writer, if I do say so myself. Also, that picture at the top of the post is great. Faye can place me under arrest any day of the week. :D

Interesting start to the story. You tell enough to get the reader hooked in, but not so much that you give everything away. There's definitely more than a bit of secrecy here. Like with the marks on Serge's hand...I'm sure that I could figure out what they said if I spent enough time thinking about it, but I'm too lazy for that :p The voices and the radio strike me as interesting, too. It'll be nice to see where you go with all of that. Good work so far.

Ah, finally finished. I had a fiasco with my computer a while back, so all of the work I'd done on this part up to that point got erased :( I think it was a blessing in disguise, though, because this rendition of the second part came out a [i]lot[/i] better than my first crack at it, I think. This ended up a bit humorous, as well, but I don't think that it's as outrageous as the first part lol. Or maybe it is, in its own way. I'm not really good at seeing these things. Of the three parts, this was the one that was the haziest in my mind, but as I went along, things came out well, and I think that I was able to do a good job with it. Hopefully, everyone thinks so, as well. Comments, critique, and whatnot are all welcome. "That was a very interesting dream," Dr. Whimsley noted, scribbling furtively onto a notepad in his lap. "Do you really think so?" Chris asked. He leaned back onto the chair a bit more, shifting his weight so that he could get a bit more comfortable in his seat. "Yes, I do," Dr. Whimsley answered. "I think that your dream will give me tremendous insight into your psyche." Dr. Whimsley shifted through a few papers on his desk. He was searching for a few notes that he had taken that contained the dream analyzations of a previous patient. "Wow," Chris said, with a low whistle. "Can it really do that?" "Indeed it can," Dr. Whimsley replied, suppressing the urge to grin from ear to ear. He rather enjoyed the awe and wonder that Chris was lavishing upon him. "That's pretty neat," Chris said. "Where can you learn about that kind of stuff?" "Oh, certain places," Dr. Whimsley shrugged. "I studied psychology for years in college and in graduate school. It's a fairly demanding field of study, but very interesting at the same time." He found the notes that he needed under a pile of papers on his desk. "Cool," Chris said. "So, what does my dream mean, anyway?" "Well," Dr. Whimsley said. "Your dream is a very simple one to decipher, as most that I run into are. First, let us analyze the central figure in your dream, the cowboy. Would you agree that your dream is centered around the cowboy?" Dr. Whimsley scribbled a few more notes onto his papers. "Well, yeah," Chris said. "He's in most of it, after all." "Yes," Dr. Whimsley said. "Your cowboy differs from most cowboys, however; he was very, ah, inept, shall we say?" "Sure," Chris replied. "I'd agree with that. He [i]was[/i] kind of a dork." "Quite," Dr. Whimsley said, the right corner of his mouth twitching slightly. "Normally, the cowboy is seen as a very tough, rugged figure. He is the very essence of masculinity. Your cowboy was nothing like this - I believe that he is an extension of your own insecurities." "How do you figure that?" Chris asked. "And the woman in your dream," Dr. Whimsley continued. "Perhaps she is a manifestation of a woman that you have feelings for. Is there anyone that have a, er, crush on at the moment?" Dr. Whimsley was just about ready to pack his notes back into the pile where he had found them. "Um," Chris said. "No, not really. Not at the moment." "Are you sure about that?" Dr. Whimsley asked, momentarily caught off guard, his hands frozen in mid-air, still clutching his notes. "Positive," Chris replied. "That doesn't make much sense," Dr. Whimsley said. "Why not?" Chris asked. Dr. Whimsley mused on this for a moment. "Is there something that you are hiding from me?" Dr. Whimsley asked. "No," Chris said. "I've got nothing to hide, at least I don't think that I do." "Well," Dr. Whimsley said. "Is there anything else that you would like to tell me?" "Hm," Chris said. "I think that cowboys are silly." He nodded. "Pardon?" Dr. Whimsley asked. "I think that cowboys are silly," Chris repeated with another nod. "I heard you the first time," Dr. Whimsley said. "Why is that?" "Why do I think that cowboys are silly, or why did you hear me the first time?" Chris asked. "Don't play stupid with me!" Dr. Whimsley yelled. He was about to bang his fist on his desk, and his face was very red. He took a deep, calming breath and leaned back into his chair. "I apologize for that, Chris." "No problem, Doc," Chris smiled. That smile annoyed Dr. Whimsley. He thought that Chris was either being very stupid, very smug, or a combination of the both. There was definitely something that the boy was hiding from him. "I meant the former," Dr. Whimsley said, frowning. "Why do you think that cowboys are silly?" "I don't know," Chris said. "They're just like nobody I've ever seen in my life. They seem a bit too concerned about being manly, and other things like that. I guess you were right earlier, I have my own little insecurities and stuff; everyone else does, too, because they act a lot like me. I can't imagine that if a cowboy really existed here today that he'd be very much different." "Interesting," Dr. Whimsley said. "And what, pray tell, is your theory on the woman in your dream? If she is not someone that you are very fond of, who is she?" "You got me," Chris said. "Girls in the cowboy movies are kind of silly, too, like they can't protect themselves or anything. I can't imagine that I saw anything like that on TV." "Fair enough," Dr. Whimsley said, eager to move on. "How about we discuss your second dream, Chris?" "Sure thing, Doc," Chris said. Dr. Whimsley scowled. The morning was very cold. Chris tossed and turned in his bed, smothering himself in his covers. He shivered slightly. His arms and legs were covered in goosebumps. He turned over onto mhis right side, and shut his eyes tightly, trying to drift off into sleep. A shrill noise sounded off in front of him, and he sat up quickly. He looked around frantically, trying to determine the direction that the noise was coming from. He looked down to his right side. He squinted down at the alarm clock, which was making all of the noise. "Piece of shit," Chris muttered to himself. He clenched his fist, and brought it crashing down upon the alarm clock. It did not bend even a little bit, and he received a very sore fist, for his troubles. "Please enter the passcode," a smooth, feminine voice said. "What?" Chris replied, eyebrows raised. "Please enter the passcode." The voice was coming from the alarm clock. "Passcode?" Chris asked. "Passcode for [i]what[/i]?" "Please enter the passcode." "Damn machine," Chris growled. He looked down at the alarm clock, trying to block the noise out of his ears. There were nine buttons on top of the alarm clock. He pressed random buttons in an attempt to get the correct passcode. "Incorrect passcode," the voice said. "Please enter the passcode." "God damn it!" Chris shouted. "Why the hell does an alarm clock need a passcode?!" "Please enter the passcode." Chris screamed loudly, pounding his fists into his pillows. He was close to breaking down and weeping. He heard the door open and close. A man walked into the room. He was tall and well-built, with short black hair, and baby blue eyes. He strolled over to the alarm clock, and punched in four numbers: 1077. The alarm turned off. "Thank you for entering the passcode." "God," Chris said. "[i]Finally[/i]!" "Why didn't you enter the passcode?" the man asked. "I didn't know the stupid passcode," Chris replied. "Eh?" he asked. "You've lived here for a while now, you should know the passcode." "Hm?" Chris asked. "Wait, who are you, anyway?" Chris stared at the stranger in confusion. "Don't be a kidder, Chris," he said, running a hand through his hair. "I'm Jason, your roommate." "Oh yeah," Chris said. "Uh, sorry about that, early mornings, you know?" "Yeah," Jason replied. "I know what those are like." Chris threw his covers off of himself. "Why the hell do alarm clocks need passcodes, anyway?" Chris asked. "Duh," Jason said. "Hackers. Just about everything needs to be on high security these days. Your personal information is at risk at all times." "From someone hacking into my [i]alarm clock[/i]?" Chris asked. "You never know," Jason replied. "I'm going to go make some breakfast. You hungry?" "Uh, yeah," Chris said. "Yeah, I'm hungry." Chris slid out of his bed. He looked into a mirror standing across from his bed; he was dressed up and down in plain white pajamas. He slipped a pair of slippers onto his cold feet and walked into the kitchen, where Jason was preparing breakfast. Jason was standing in front of a large machine, with lots of buttons, levers, dials, and other assorted things. He pressed several of the buttons in rapid succession, pulled a few levers, turned some dials, and the machine whirred into life, expelling steam from its metallic pores. Chris thought that the machine looked very unwieldy and confusing. "So," Chris said. "That thing makes breakfast?" "Of course it does," Jason replied. "What does it look like, some kind of Doomsday Machine, or something?" Chris didn't think that description was too far off, but decided to keep quiet. Jason shrugged and went about his business once again. "You got anything to drink?" Chris asked, walking over to the refrigerator. "Nope," Jason said. "Nothing but some old coffee mix, I'll have to go out and buy something to drink later on today. And why are you going through my icebox like that?" "Eh?" Chris said, before yelping in surprise. Lined up in little rows on three different shelves in the icebox were racks adorned with test tubes. The test tubes were filled with liquids of different colors; red, blue, green, violet, pink, and so on. "What's all this?" "Corrosive liquids," Jason said, with a slight shrug. "[i]Corrosive liquids[/i]?!" Chris shouted. "Why the hell do you have corrosive liquids in an icebox in your house?!" "Everyone has them," Jason said. "Why shouldn't we have them? As long as you don't abuse them, everyone should have the right to have them." "Ugh," Chris said, not wanting to press the issue. "Never mind. Where's the coffee machine? And the coffee mix, at that." "Coffee mix is over in the cabinet," Jason said. "You should be careful, though, it's really old stuff, not sure if it'll taste right." "And the coffee maker?" Chris asked. "It's a part of the big machine," Jason replied. "It's not too hard to find." Chris doubted that, but he walked up to the giant machine, nevertheless. The machine was sphere-shaped and silver colored, small openings scattered all along its surface. Chris poked and prodded at it for a few minutes before looking over at Jason. "Jason," Chris said. "How the hell am I supposed to turn this thing on?" "Well," Jason said. "First, you pull the lever on the top right, so that it's at a forty-five degree angle. Then you push to blue button on top, the green button on the side above the purple button, and the purple button in between the other purple button and the sort of off-white button, in that order. After that, you turn the dial on the very front to 64, then to 21, and lastly, to 37. You should be able to load up the coffee after you're done with that." Chris looked over at the machine. He stared at it for about five minutes, while Jason was going about his business. There we so many, many buttons everywhere. Chris didn't know where to start. There were levers on all sides, and three dials near the bottom. "God damn technology!" Chris yelled. "I'm going out for a while, whoever you are, I'll be back in a while." "Okay," Jason said. "You wanna borrow my car?" Chris considered this for a moment. "No thanks," Chris replied. "Who knows what I would have to do to start the stupid thing up? I'm just gonna change my clothes and take a walk." "Suit yourself," Jason shrugged. Chris walked back into the bedroom he'd been and stood outside the closet. Before he reached over to open it, however, he yelled over to Jason. "I don't have to push a bunch of crazy buttons to open this stupid thing, do I?" Chris asked. "Don't be silly," Jason replied. "You just have to pull it open!" "Of course," Chris muttered, pulling the closet open. He took out a plain white shirt, a pair of blue jeans, a pair of socks and a pair of black sneakers, and put them on. He looked into the mirror, decided that he did not need to comb his hair, and walked back into the kitchen. Jason nodded over to him, and went back to cooking. Chris made no reply, opened the door, and left the apartment. "God," Chris said. "I'm surprised I was able to open the door without it exploding in my face." Chris walked quickly through the hall and reached the elevator. He pushed a button, and waited for the elevator to arrive. While he was waiting, he was joined by two other people. The elevator opened up, and the trio walked inside, the elevator doors closing behind them. "First floor, please," one of the people, an old man, said. "Sure," Chris said, looking over at the elevator buttons. There were a lot of them, and they were labelled in an incomprehensible language that Chris had never seen in his life. Either that, or French. His right index finger floated over the buttons for a few seconds, before he pressed the one on the absolute bottom left. "Young man," the other person, an old lady, said. "I believe we wanted to go to the [i]first[/i] floor." "Why don't you push the button if you're so smart?" Chris spat. The old lady hobbled over to the button area, and pushed the first floor button. The elevator descended down to the first floor in the space of a few seconds. The door opened, and the old couple walked slowly out of the elevator, looking at Chris in dismay all the while. Chris rolled his eyes, sighed, and stepped out of the elevator, himself. "Ugh," Chris said. "This sucks. I don't know where I am, I'm living with some guy I don't know, I don't even know what [i]time[/i] I'm in. And I can't even get a damn cup of coffee. This blows. There had better be a coffee shop around here." Chris looked across the street. Conveniently enough, there was a coffee shop there. Chris waited until the traffic slowed down, and he crossed the street quickly. Chris was fading slightly when he walked into the coffee shop. His bloodshot eyes were half-closed, his muscles were feeling extremely listless, and he wished he could just curl up in the corner and fall asleep. But he couldn't, he knew that someone would wake him back up eventually, and then he'd be back to square one. No, he needed the intense jolt of caffeine that only a strong dose of deliciously addictive coffee could provide. Chris actually thought that the taste of coffee was disgusting. It didn't really matter, however, since he was addicted to the stuff. There was a long line of people waiting to get some coffee. [i]Apparently technology hasn't absolved the Earth of long lines[/i], Chris thought ruefully. He didn't think that he'd have the energy to stand up in a long line for very long. The smell of coffee that wafted through the building told Chris differently. The smell wrapped around him, pervaded his entire being, invigorated him. He now had enough energy to stand in line so that he could buy the drink he needed to get enough energy to make it through the day. It felt wonderful. The line moved slowly. Chris didn't mind at first. He knew he would have his hands wrapped around a warm mug of coffee, eventually. It was only a matter of time. "Next!" the man at the counter yelled. The person at the head of the line went up to the counter to order whatever it was that they wanted. Chris began humming to himself, to pass the time. "Would you mind not humming?" the man in front of Chris said. "It's annoying." Chris frowned, and stopped humming. The line moved again with the order of another person to approach the counter. Chris chuckled to himself; he found the whole thing a bit amusing for a moment. There were so many people in line that Chris saw, so many people of different races, creeds, backgrounds, religions, and anything else you were likely to think of. But they all had one thing in common: Coffee. They were all addicted to it, they all craved it, and they all got it, courtesy of the ill-tempered man at the counter. "Next!" the man shouted. The line trudged slowly forward once again. It was about a half hour later before Chris made it to the counter. The smell of the freshly brewed coffee was starting to lose its effect on him. He was once again feeling tired, bleary-eyed, and utterly lost. He was the next in line when he regained his focus. The person in the counter was paying their money, and they walked away from the counter with a token in their hand. "Next!" the man at the counter shouted. Chris walked slowly towards the counter and stood to attention in front of the man. "Whaddya want?" the man asked. "I'd like some coffee, please," Chris said. "Well, la de da, your majesty," the man sneered. "How would you like your coffee?" "I'd like it strong," Chris said. "I really, really need to wake up right now." "Whatever," the man said. "That'll be $7.50." Chris dug into his pocket, and took out his wallet. He grabbed a $5, two $1's, fifty cents, and handed the money to the man behind the counter, who put the money in his cash register. He turned to a small computer on his left side, and typed in a series of complicated keystrokes. A small, golden token popped out of the side, and the man behind the counter caught it in his palm. He handed it over to Chris. "Put the token in one of the machines over there," the man pointed over to a set of machines on the left side of the room. "The rest is easy." "More machines?" Chris moaned. The man wiped his counter a bit before responding. "The hell you talkin' about, kid?" the man asked. "Never mind," Chris said, taking the token. He walked over to the machines that the man had pointed him to. They looked just like the one that Jason had in his apartment. Except, Chris reasoned, that these were probably only used to make coffee. Who knew what the hell else Jason could use [i]his[/i] machine for. Chris decided that he didn't really want to think about it any further. He stood in front of the machine. It still looked very daunting. He saw a slit on the machine, with a label that read "Insert Token Here" beside it. Chris inserted the token, and the machine whirred to life. Chris smiled. "At least I was able to get that done," Chris said to himself. He assumed that the machine would automatically take over and make his coffee; he waited for a while. Nothing happened. Chris tapped his foot impatiently. People walked up to the machines beside him, and began getting their coffee. They pushed buttons, pulled levers, and turned dials just as Jason had done back at his apartment. "Hurry it up!" someone shouted. Chris looked backwards. A small line had formed in back of him. Chris raised his hand to his face, and let his breath out in a low hiss. "What's the matter?" another person asked. "Don't you know how to get coffee?" This comment roused a chorus of laughter. Chris turned around, laughed in mock sincerity, and looked back at the coffee machine. "You piece of crap," Chris growled. "Why the hell do you have to be so damned hard to operate? Why can't you just [i]give[/i] me the damn coffee? It has to be hard, doesn't it? It has to be confusing, doesn't it? Why the hell can't I just [i]have[/i] it, and be done with it?!" "Why don't you just quit your whining and get out of the line if you're not going to get some coffee?" yet another person asked. "Do us all a favor, and get out of here if you're too dumb to operate a simple coffee machine." Chris sighed and walked away from the machine, and out of the coffee shop. The people standing in line gave a little cheer. Chris slammed the door behind him. "Fantastic," Chris said to himself. "Simply wonderful. I'm almost all asleep, I've got no coffee, I don't know where I am, and nobody gives a rat's ass about me. I guess maybe that narrows it down to a few cities in America where I could possibly be." Chris walked down the sidewalk with his hands in his jean pockets. The morning was very mild, not crisp enough to wake him up, but not warm enough to put him to sleep, either. Chris found it very tough to walk down the street. The sidewalk was swamped with people, people who bumped into each other at every opportunity. Chris got to the end of the sidewalk, and leaned against a building for a few moments. His shoulders were very sore. He rubbed them gently with his hands. He stole a cursory glance over to the side, and saw an old man pushing the cart. The cart was bright yellow, and painted on it in black letters were the words "Coffee For Sale". Chris rubbed his eyes. When his vision cleared, he could still see the old man pushing his cart along across the street. He looked both ways quickly, and jogged over to the car, as he didn't have enough energy left in him to break out into a run. A woman walked away from the cart as Chris arrived there, slightly out of breath. "Please, sir," Chris breathed. "You gotta let me have some coffee!" "Sorry, kid," the old man said. "I just sold out." "What?!" Chris yelled. "You're kidding me!" "Nope," the old man replied. "I'm not pulling your leg at all, I'm fresh outta coffee. You'll just have to find another guy selling some Joe." Chris scowled, and walked off. He couldn't believe his luck when, further down the block, he spotted another man pushing a similar cart down the road. He walked hurriedly up to him, hoping that he was not too late. "Sorry," the man said, when Chris beseeched him. "Fresh out, I was just heading back to report in. I made a good haul today, though, I'll tell ya what." Chris didn't care about this one bit, so he walked away before the old man could continue any further. Chris saw another person pushing a cart, this time by the coffee shop where Chris originally went to get some coffee. By this time, Chris was almost completely sapped of energy. He limped comically over to the man pushing the cart, and had to lean onto the cart to keep his balance. He could barely speak, and his words came out in hurried gasps. "Please...please..." Chris begged. "You...you gotta have some coffee...on you...don't you...?" "I'm sorry, sir," the man said, the very words crushing the last of the spirit left in Chris. "No coffee left. I'm fresh out, the stuff's in large demand around here." Chris' knees buckled, and he slid down to the ground, barely keeping a weakened grasp on the cart handle. Soon, his arms and hands gave away, and he fell completely to the ground, and rolled over onto his front side. "Why the hell do I even care about it?" Chris muttered to himself, his lips pressed against the dirty sidewalk. "What the hell's the point of it? If I'm so doped up on caffeine that I need it to live, why don't I just stop drinking the coffee? Why don't I just get rid of it for good?" Chris tried to get up, failed. He tried to get up, tried to balance himself with his arms. They wobbled slightly, before he toppled back down to the ground. "Who the hell am I kidding?" Chris said. "I need coffee! I need a steaming hot cup of coffee! I need the energy, I need the caffeine, I just need to WAKE UP!" "Did you say that you needed some coffee, sir?" Chris looked up. There was a woman standing over him, a cup of coffee in her hands. She had shoulder-length red hair and bold, black glasses on her face, framing her elegant green eyes. She wore a plain, black t-shirt, a pair of dark blue jeans and non-descript black shoes. On a normal day, she would have looked very pretty. On this day, Chris thought that she looked positively angelic. "Um," Chris said. "Yeah, it's been a tough day. I just want a cup of coffee, and I haven't been able to find one anywhere." "That's too bad," the woman said. "Need a helping hand?" She held her hand out for a moment. Chris stared at it for a moment, before grasping it. She helped him stand up while he balanced on his wobbly knees. "Thanks," Chris said, finally balancing himself correctly. "No problem," the woman replied. "Coffee?" Chris looked at her, eternally grateful. Their eyes met for a moment; for that fleeting moment, Chris fell in love with her, harder than he had ever fallen for anyone his life up to that point, or would ever fall for at any point thereafter. He had the coffee mug in his hands. He raised it slowly up to his mouth, and took a drink. The hot liquid slid down his throat, and warmed his entire body, gave him a boost of energy, though he was not completely awake. It felt wonderful, and terrible, at the same time. "God, that felt great," Chris sighed. The woman smirked at him. "Thanks a lot...hm, I don't know your name." "I don't know your name, either," the woman replied. "You may as well be some bum I met on the street." "Yeah," Chris said. "That sounds like a pretty fair description. This doesn't feel like home." "Excuse me?" the woman asked. "Never mind," Chris said. "Say, I'd feel guilty if I didn't pay you back for the coffee. Are you busy?" "That depends," the woman said with a sly smile. "Where would you like to go?" Chris looked around. "Anywhere but here," he said. "That would suit me just fine." He took another sip of coffee and woke up.

It's been thirteen years. In many ways it seems like it happened ages ago; I've grown so much, both in stature, I was about 4'7" in those days, and as a person. But I can still remember it very clearly, as if I just got home, bewildered, wondering just what it was about me that repelled everyone else. I couldn't understand it then, and to a certain extent, I can't really understand it today. My family moved around a bit when I was starting up in school. I went to three different elementary schools within the space of a year. We'd settled here in La Puente, the town I've been living in for almost fifteen years now. My mom had recently quit her job in order to take care of my siblings and I; previously while our mom went to work, we'd been left with a couple of aunts of ours, who were less than stellar parents to say the least. I started at Workman Elementary in January of 1993. I'd just turned seven years old a couple of months prior. I was sort of nervous on my first day of school. I'd made friends with people easily enough at other schools, but as a little kid, I was sort of shaken by the new and unfamiliar. I walked into the classroom, Room One, and sat down at the far left side of the room, choosing a seat in the middle of the row, I can't remember exactly which one now. There were already a few people scattered about the room, a couple of them were even talking to each other. They must have been friends from Kindergarten, the year prior. I remember being slightly jealous of them, because I had to leave all of the friends I'd made from Kindgergarten and the first half of the First Grade when I moved here. Those were very sad times, I actually had some really good friends over there. But that was in the past, as odd as it seemed at the time, because it was a past I'd left only two weeks prior. Our teacher, Mrs. Lang, walked into the room soon after. I remember thinking that she was very frightening. She was very tall for a woman, probably approaching about 5'10" or 5'11", but she seemed positively gigantic from my vantage point. She was fairly old, with pale skin that was somewhat wrinkly, and her hair was cut short and entirely dark gray. She was dressed in a red business suit, and had on the largest pair of glasses I'd ever seen in my life up to that point. She began to write a few things on the board, while the rest of the students filed into the classroom and took their seats. There were a lot of students in the class, but not enough to completely fill up the classroom, so I hadn't taken anyone's seat by mistake. I was a bit relieved by that. Mrs. Lang then turned around and looked over at me. My heart skipped a beat, and I'm sure that I had an extremely nervous look on my face. "Class," she said. "This is Michael, he's a new student. Everyone, say hello to Michael." "Hello, Michael," the class droned, in a singular voice. I wasn't offended by it, it was the usual elementary school bit, students sounded apathetic about [i]everything[/i] that the teacher told them to say. Mrs. Lang then looked around the area I was sitting in, and got a strange glint in her eye. "There's nobody sitting around you, Michael," she mentioned. I looked around, and found that she was right, there were no students sitting near me. There was a chair available in front of me, in back of me, and to my right side. Mrs. Lang looked behind me, to a girl named Sally. "Sally, will you sit by Michael?" "No!" Sally said, in a somewhat offended voice. She was already sitting next to a friend of hers, so that wasn't too surprising, though I didn't know it at the time. I frowned, but thought nothing of it. Mrs. Lang looked at the person sitting a couple of chairs in front of me, Philip. "Philip," Mrs. Lang said. "Will you sit next to Michael?" "No!" Philip said. Another slight rejection. I put my head on my desk, dejected. My first day at my new school wasn't getting off to a very good start at all. It wouldn't get any better. "Well," Mrs. Lang said, trying her hardest to sound concerned. "Doesn't [i]anyone[/i] want to sit next to Michael?" "No!" the class chorused. I looked all around the classroom. Everyone was staring at me, like I was some animal trapped in the zoo, locked behind a cage for the amusement of everyone else. Maybe if I were older I could have taken it, but I wasn't, and I couldn't. I burst into tears, and buried my head in between my arms until recess. That's all I remember from that day. More likely than not, I walked around the playground alone, feeling sorry for myself. That small event, it happened so long ago, but it's been a weight on me for so long. It seems sort of silly to dwell on something like that, but it was far from silly at the time. I was a little kid, I had barely experienced anything in life, I barely knew anything. I wasn't aware of the world; hell, the classroom may as well have been my world. A very small world, but a world nonetheless. And I'd been rejected by everyone else in that world, as terribly melodramatic as that sounds. Perhaps the other kids meant nothing by it at all, I'm probably the only person who really remembers this at all, but I didn't dwell on that at all at the time. It remains the only time in my life that I've ever felt [i]true[/i] rejection, emotional rejection. Not the sort of rejection you feel when a magazine rejects a short story you sent in, or a college rejects your application. Those are short-term, easy to get over. The sort of rejection I felt leaves some scars, scars that take a while to heal, and they only heal if you really [i]want[/i] them to heal. I'm not sure if I wanted them to heal, at first. It felt so bad at the time, though, and I knew that I never wanted to feel anything like it ever again. I became extremely withdrawn and introverted. I rarely talked to anyone at all. I played with the other kids, but I'm pretty sure that they only let me play with them out of pity. I didn't make any real friends until I was in the fourth grade. In middle school, I changed, though not for the better. My experiences had been festering in me for a few years, and combined with everything that goes on during a person's teenage years, that didn't make for a good combination. I became surly, mean-spirited, I was a little shit, to put it bluntly. I had a bunch of friends who were mean little shits, with a couple of exceptions. I'm not proud of who I was in middle school, in the least. Frankly, if I could, I'd go back in time and beat the piss out of my teenaged self, he would have deserved everything that he got. In high school, I just became a more grown-up version of who I was in elementary school. I talked with people during classtime, but that was it, really. During lunch I kept to myself, eating alone, and reading. I did a lot of growing up in high school, I became nicer, more aware of people's feelings. The people I was closest to were those like myself, people who were sort of odd, and didn't really have that many friends because of it. I hated seeing people alienated, because I knew exactly how it felt. The first time I felt a twinge of real love for someone, not just a crush but genuine feelings for someone, was for a girl somewhat like myself. She was more outgoing than me, but I think that a lot of other people found her a bit annoying. But that's another tale for another time, I guess. Though I was usually alone during lunch, I did make strong efforts to talk with people during class, to get over that irrational fear that they would hate me, that they would think that I was stupid, and that they would want me to get the hell out of their life. Nobody ever wanted that, at least not that I'm aware of. I never talked too much, but I did it enough to help me crawl along a bit. My high school years were a bit tough, and there are times where I really hated it, but there's no denying the strides I made. I could really feel it inside of me, for the first time in as long as I can remember, I was actually happy with who I was. I wasn't perfectly sociable or anything, but I was getting there. I was finally getting there. There's a time where you can wallow in self-pity, and there's a time when you can look deep inside of yourself and you realize that it's time to finally move on, not to become a new person, but the person that you used to be, armed with the wisdom and knowledge that comes with age and experience in life. I think that I'm ready to take those final steps. I think that I'm finally ready to live the life that I want to live, instead of living the life that my fears and insecurities dictate. It feels good. It makes me happy. Finally.

[quote name='Lore][color=#4b4b79'] One of them was about how I planned to wear my new boots for the next six months. He sat up, announced that I had to see the movie, and fell back over to the ground, laughing.[/color][/quote] :D Would said boots be good for dancing in? :angel: Also, your 'beware the groove' signature at the end of your post reminds me of Napoleon Dynamite, ironically enough...you have to go see it, [strike]Sara[/strike] Lore!! Oh, and today I got a nice 'Vote For Pedro' button. I plan to be a complete loser and wear it when I go back to school on Monday. Also, quoting the movie is very fun, and Napoleon's voice is easy to imitate which makes me happy. I'm still getting a kick out of saying "Pedro offers you his protection" at every turn :p

I suppose that a lot of people are busy vacationing lol. Today, I read about one-hundred pages of the novel, and I'm getting ever closer to the halfway point of it. [i]Oryx and Crake[/i] is very good so far, extremely enthralling. I'm liking how everything in the story is presented in little bits (including most of the chapers, which are fairly short), and leaves you hungering for more. I've read a lot, and I know that there's still a lot of stuff that I'm in the dark about (a lot of that relates to Oryx and Crake). The themes in the book are nothing new (man tampering with nature, playing God, etc.), but as I read in a review for the novel, it's how the ideas are presented that makes a novel unique. I'm loving the blend of wry wordplay and black humor present in the story. What's even more remarkable is that the tone of the novel manages to remain somewhat upbeat, even with the bleakness of the world that Snowman is living in and reflecting upon in his flashbacks. Most analysis that I can offer would be fairly limited at this point in time, since I'm far better at looking back at these things in hindsight of what I've read, rather than using what I've read to predict events that will happen later on lol. That is, unless someone speaks up and says something that I can think about and agree with. :) As for the first chapter...yep, just an introduction to Snowman, the Crakers, and the post-apocalyptic world that they inhabit. Chapters two through four go a bit more in-depth as to everything involving the genetic-engineering, including [spoiler]the pigoons, the organ harvesting, and Jimmy's (Snowman) mom running away, because she can't take the world that they live in anymore, what with the corruption of the corporation jacking up the prices to sell organs only to the rich, and her increasingly strained relationship with her husband.[/spoiler] How far is everyone else? I'm currently on page 154, or the beginning of the "Purring" section of chapter seven. There's more stuff that I can post about, but I don't just want to talk to myself. lol

I saw Shaun of the Dead today, great movie. The British humor definitely lends a fresh point of view to zombie movies, I think, one that I think would be sort of fun to be explored a bit more. I don't if they'd be able to quite match up with Shaun of the Dead, though. The writing is sharp and funny, and the characters (Shaun and Ed, in particular) are quite fun. Plus, you get to see a bunch of zombies get beaten, bashed and blown up. How fun is that? Most of the gore isn't that difficult to sit through (at least for me it was lol), but the scene that Godel described was definitely pretty graphic. But, hey, I welcomed it, I have no qualms with movie gore. I know it's not real, doesn't bother me. I'd be whistling a different tune if I saw something like that in actuality, but that's neither here nor there. lol Everyone who liked the movie should pick up the DVD, it's very good. The extras are well worth buying it for, especially the plot hole explanations, which are a riot.

Wow, I was extremely surprised to see that there's no thread for this movie, especially considering how much I'd heard about it from other people o_O; Anyway, I had the opportunity to see this movie at my uncle's house today. As mentioned earlier, I'd heard a lot about the movie from people that I know, and I had fairly high expectations for it. It more than exceeded those, honestly. For those who are wondering, Napoleon Dynamite is about a high schooler of the same name, who is a gigantic nerd, and just really bizarre in general. The movie follows seemingly random events that happen over a few days, such as a school dance, a class president election, and other such things. What makes the movie unique is how these events are presented - the movie jumps from one scene to the next without that much cohesion. Oftentimes the scenes that are presented really don't have that much to do with the scenes that preceeded them. However, it works very well, because it fits into the style of the movie, and is used to make things funnier. And, wow, what a funny movie this is. It's so random, bizarre and ridiculous that you just can't help but laugh at it. Napoleon is such a funny character - everything about him is great, from the way he talks, to what he says, to how he moves around. He's so strange lol. The rest of the characters are likewise odd, ranging from Napoleon's equally weird brother Kip, to Pedro, someone who Napoleon befriends near the beginning of the movie. I honestly can't think of a single moment during the movie where I wasn't entertained. I watched it with my sister, and it's so packed full of moments where you just look at the person you're watching it with (it's definitely better to watch it with at least one other person), and burst out laughing. To those who have seen it, and loved it, you're probably picking up the DVD soon, or have already picked it up. To those who haven't seen it, I suggest that you give it a try, because Napoleon Dynamite is well worth seeing at least once.

Tough to narrow it down to three movies, but here goes: 1) Star Wars: The Empire Strikes Back - I'm a huge Star Wars fan, and I think that the middle movie is easily the best in the series. It's well-paced and entertaining, with the strongest, most surprising story in any of the Star Wars movies, and it has a great, open-ended ending that makes you really want to see the concluding chapter of the original trilogy, Return of the Jedi. 2) Monty Python's Life of Brian - Holy Grail is fantastic, but I think that Life of Brian is better, overall. It's sharper, edgier, and the satire is pulled off fantastically. Plus, I really, really like the ending a lot. It's probably one of the more memorable endings to a movie that I've seen. 3) Dr. Strangelove or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb - Choosing the movie to fit in this last spot is tough, but I'll go with Dr. Strangelove. More awesome satire here. The movie doesn't pull any punches in satirizing the Cold War, and it's amazing to think about how much quality is packed into only a shade over a hour and a half. Great, great movie.

Gee, what a lovely and pertinent moral :p I liked it, it was pretty funny. My favorite bit was all of James' crazy dancing. His character reminded me of Prince Peasley from Mario & Luigi: Superstar Saga, even though Peasley does no dancing whatsoever. lol When am I ever going to get paid for my appearances in these things? :flaming:

[b][center]"Rain King"[/b][/center] The Rain King looked down from his throne. All around the world raindrops were falling, and people were blessing the wondrous relief that came with the rain. Except in one place. "Sir," said the attendant. "Shall we end the heat wave in California?" "No," replied the Rain King. "Let it go on for a while." Inspired by a Sonic Youth song of the same name, even though the content of the song really has nothing to do with this at all. lol

Any "puzzle" that involves pushing a bunch of boxes around everywhere. Those get on my nerves like crazy. Love stories and whatnot are somewhat annoying, but not nearly as annoying as freaking box pushing. I can think of maybe one or two times that box pushing has made for a somewhat decent puzzle.

Every Christmas Eve my family congregates with the rest of the family and we have a really good time. I always look forward to Christmas Eve, because I like spending time with the rest of my family quite a bit. The only real Christmas Day tradition that we have is that we go out and see a movie every year. This year we'll be seeing A Series of Unfortunate Events.

I live down in Southern California, in a small town called La Puente. I actually like it here quite a bit, it's nice and quiet, and though the town isn't really in the best of condition, there's not nearly as much crime here as in other places I know of. You also have the standard Southern California weather, which for me equals horrible during Spring and Summer (I hate hot weather), and fantastic during Fall and Winter. This isn't the place to be if you like to go out and do things, though, because there is quite literally nothing to do here. Doesn't bother me, though, since I don't really go out much.

[quote name='Siren']And I'm going to hit up that Gene Wilder image now...I'm such a dork. lol[/quote] But you're a useful dork. ;) Muchos thanks for the avatar, man. :)

I'm basically in the market for someone to resize the picture I've provided into a nice avatar. I'd do it myself, but I'm terrible at making the kinds of avatars most often used here on OB. Mine always come out looking horribly disfigured lol. So, yeah, I'm not looking for anything fancy, no text or anything, just an avatar of the picture in the attachment.