Skyrim-blogging

I really oughta call this "...Vol. I." I'mma be posting a lot about this game.

I got my ass kicked last night.

No, not my character in the game. He's a totally badass Nord named Morpheus. He's as strong as a bull, and is as well-rounded as they come. He can fight like mad, sneak and pick locks, cast spells and make potions. He can smith weapons and armor, and his ability to enchant is second only to my ability to name the items he enchants (I'm currently wielding a frost-enchanted club called the Hypothermic Headache-Maker). He slew three - three - dragons yesterday, including a Blood Dragon. He is, in every sense of the word, a badass.

I, on the other hand, got sucked in all the way to midnight, when I started promising myself I would stop as soon as I got to a good stopping point.

I was finally in bed a little before 1:30 a.m. I'm a little sluggish this morning. Coffee, anyone?



tweaker

Out of town

Greetings from beautiful San Diego, California! I haven't flaked out on the blog again; I'm on the road. Got a broadcast from within view of the Pacific. It's not quite like the view last time, where I was closer to Mirimar and got to combine the serene blue waters with the occasional buzz-by of F/A-18s. Still, I'm not complaining.

So, I'll be wrapped up by this afternoon, and I'll share some pics and stuff. Stay tuned!



tweaker

Buying stuff makes me happy

I'm usually a pretty happy guy. I joke about everything, and I deflect with humor, too, so even when I'm not happy I appear happy. I don't generally burden others with my not-happy time.

(Except you guys. You put up with all my pissy little shit, and you don't get mad at me when I say "fuck." What's not to love? Come here; give us a hug, eh?)

Anyhoo, I'm a little freaked out. The short version of the story is that my back is fucked up real bad, and I'm a candidate for spinal surgery. I have a surgical consult next Thursday, and I get to have a provocative discography (or, as I like to think of it, a Living Fucking Nightmare wherein I get injected with something specifically to cause me pain). Needless to say, I've got a lot on my mind.

So, on the way home I noticed that a former Aaron's had been emptied and replaced with a new place called Top Brass Military and Tactical. My curiosity got the better of me. I expected to walk in and see a bunch of full-blown gunshop commando types. Not so.

The place was nice. It didn't have that hole-in-the-wall milsurp store feel to it. The staff was dressed from head to toe in 5.11 apparel, which I pardoned since that brand takes up probably 40% of the floor space in that (surprisingly big-ass) store. Folks were clean-cut and very polite.

I walked around and looked at everything. It was more-or-less like Cheaper Than Dirt opened up the roof and puked in the middle of the store. Everything from AR/AK accessories (even PMAGs! Both with and without windows! And a shite-tonne of 'em!) to MOLLE everything to, what's that? Looks an awful lot like a neatly stacked ~15'x15' pile of ammo cans... Score. Each and every one of them was in Grade I condition. Maybe a couple of dings and a touch of rust on the hinges, but as far as I can tell they all had brand-new seals in them. I bought two .50 cans for $15 each. I'll go back for a few of the $10 .30 cans.

"Hey, Tweaker," you are surely asking, "Why not go ahead and get some .30 cans now?" A fine question, you smart whipper-snappers. I had spent enough money between the ammo cans and my shiny new Streamlight ProTac 2AA that I bought to replace a 2AA Mini-Maglite. Now that was money well spent! It's just a touch smaller than the Mag, and will drop into my Nite Ize Pock-Its XL pointing down (the Mag had to point up). A 120-lumen ray of sunlight screams out at a touch of the button on the back - no more twisty for me! - and, buddy, we're gonna do some seeing!

So there. I spent some money. Got something I needed, and something I wanted. In a pretty cool store. I can haz happy time? Yeth. Yeth I can.



tweaker

We don't need no steeenking Due Process!

***WARNING*** I'm about to say "fuck." A lot. But first? Something totally cool that I made, all by myself! I created it from scratch with my mad art skrillz and stuff.



Anyone recognize that? That's not my handiwork. That would be the work of The Oatmeal. He makes funny things on the internet, and I check his site every day for new content, because it's cool. It is not, however, so cool that I'd willingly grant him the power to fuxxxorz my blog or any website with the full weight of the law behind him, and without any due process whatsoever.

(Just so's we are crystal clear: I didn't make that image. The Oatmeal did. I was lying about making it. He would get it, and probably laugh and buy me beer. Cuz he's cool.)

So, without further ado, here's all that foul language I promised!

Fuck SOPA.

Fuck PIPA.

Fuck each and every sitting member of the Senate that even remotely considered this bill.

Fuck each and every sitting member of the House of Representatives that even remotely considered this bill.

Fuck Barack Obama for not guaranteeing a veto from the very beginning.

Fuck the system that would allow that law to run full force while someone with a soul had to go up the chain from court to court before making it to SCOTUS who is just as likely as not to say SOPA/PIPA is A-O-K and what exactly is a constitution again?

Ladies and gentlemen, your government does not work for you. They do not have your best interests in mind. They do not care about you. So send 'em some mail. Send 'em emails. Let 'em know this is bullshit, and you're havin none of it.

Fuck 'em all.



tweaker

Trying Hard To Lose

I am trying as hard as I can to avoid the GOP popularity contest debates. There's nothing of any interest for me there save that Ron Paul is becoming more and more clearly the only conservative in a field of guys who swear they are the only real conservative and that everyone else is a moderate (except Ron Paul who is insane in the membrane and Hey, Look How Eeeevil Everyone Else Is!!).

This morning, as I was scanning the news to make sure that the world wasn't ending (damn shame about that boat in Italy. Captain Douchebag to the bridge, please?), I heard Newt "FDR Iz Teh Graytest!!1!" Gingrich telling of his strategy to win the GOP nod. The first of the two steps was to convince everyone he was the only real conservative (there's that again) by showing how he was the only one who could push true conservatism in a debate environment.

Anyone see the big red flags on that? Lemme help. He's the one who can push true conservatism in a debate environment.

Not that I want him to win (or have the ability to communicate at all) or anything, but I've got some advice for the Newt not-so-juggernaut campaign: despite what appears to be awfully convincing evidence from your imagination, conservatives don't want someone who can push conservatism in a debate environment. They want a full-blown conservative who will, first and foremost, drop a big fuckin bag of financial conservatism right in the middle of Washington, D.C. Debate skills are shiny, but screaming how you're the conservative and everyone else is the moderate doesn't echo with the brainy crowd as loud as ZOMGILURVESFDR!!!



tweaker

Never a Good Time

Well, I had tossed around leaving the blog behind in favor of Facebook, but it seems like a bad idea. See, a certain post over at Jim's place led me to find my blog here linked up in a lot of places that I didn't know about. Good places, all, and good bloggers running 'em. Made me think twice, and I've decided to take this thing a bit more seriously.

So, to all that link me up, thanks. If y'all will let me know who you are, I'll update the blogroll. In the mean time, I'mma clean up the place, wipe the counters, knock down the cobwebs, and see if I can breath a little life back into this thing.



tweaker

Coffee Break

The internet can take the rest of the day off, because there is no hope of better content anywhere other than this post.

I mean, it's got it all: drama, humor, struggle, sage wisdom, and the crown jewel:

Then you would have to run around wearing a frownie face. You would be sad.

Go ahead, internet. Try to beat that.



tweaker

Appreciation

Ladies and gentlemen of our Armed Forces, I do not know you. I have met a few of you, and I hold you in the highest regard. I wish that were enough to show you how much I appreciate what you have done for our nation.

From the bottom of my heart: thank you.

Judicial Dumbassery

My blood boiled when I read about the recent decision from the US Court of Appeals for DC concerning the individual mandate of Obamacare. The same court that upheld Dick Heller's case right before it went to SCOTUS is apparently subject to the same brand of recto-cranial inversion as any other court.

Just try and read this without seeing red:

"It certainly is an encroachment on individual liberty, but it is no more so than a command that restaurants or hotels are obliged to serve all customers regardless of race ... or that a farmer cannot grow enough wheat to support his own family," wrote Judge Laurence Silberman in the majority opinion, citing past federal mandates that inspired legal fights.

See that? In the same breath, Judge Silberman (a Ronald Reagan appointee and senior judge for the Court) in the opinion A) admits that the individual mandate is an encroachment on individual liberty and B) shows us what an epic Fucktard of the First Order he really is by comparing said encroachment to forcing businesses to serve all races and forbidding a farmer to grow enough wheat to support his family.

Read that back to yourselves; I know it's a lot to take in. A federal appeals court judge says that forcing subjects citizens at gunpoint under penalty of law to purchase something is wrong, but no more so than one thing that's a good soundbite and another thing that's a fucking actrocity.

That is the standard by which abrogation of freedom is measured by the US Court of Appeals. It can be all fucked up and still be constitutional(!!!), as long as it's not more fucked up than other things that have happened.

And we have to wait until he dies or retires, because there's no voting federal judges out. Yee-haw.



tweaker

I Must Have ESPN

I have an uncanny ability to predict the contents of a story before I read it.

Okay, maybe it's not so uncanny. Honestly, how many of you could read this and not see this coming:

According to arrest affidavits filed in the case, Roberts and 73-year-old Frederick Thomas agreed to buy a silencer, a bomb and parts to convert a semi-automatic rifle to a fully automatic machine gun from an undercover agent.

Wow. So yet again, millions are saved by our protectors thwarting a plot that they, at least in part, helped to manufacture. Once again, a person or group of people that may have just hated the fuck out of the government will join the ranks of those whom we'll never know would have actually been able to break any laws without help. From our protectors.

So what are they actually protecting us from? It's almost like we're paying protection money to the...

Naaahh. No way it could be that.



tweaker