This past Saturday the local Best Buy was supposed to have a Guitar Hero II contest which I was all about. I wasn’t sure if it was one of those things that they were having “for kids” or if it was an all ages thing because there wasn’t a lot of info, I mean hell the sign didn’t even list a time. Friday night I’m at the Best Buy because it’s sort of tradition to hit up the Best Buy any time we go out to eat on a weekend and their PS2 with Guitar Hero II is gone alone with both controllers. I muster up my best Bill & Ted’s impression and mutter “heinous” under my breath.
Via a series of events that included one of those friend’s girlfriend’s friend’s daughter kind of chains I discovered that the contest was canceled. The reason for the canceling was attributed to insurance or space or something, which is fine if that’s what they have to tell the public but I know the true reason. Truth is they were terrified that once I arrived and started rocking out hardcore no one else would be able to compete. I mean how on earth could they, it’s difficult to play a game when your face has been melted off Indiana Jones and the Raiders of the Lost Ark style due to my blistering fake fretwork. Truth is I feel bad for my parents as I don’t even have the game yet but when I do I’m going to be playing it nearly non-stop while I go visit them for Christmas.
Regardless of the status of the Guitar Hero II contest there was always plans to attend a game day, which is very much like game night, only on a Saturday, consisting of more games with more people over the course of a much longer time. All was fine aside from the fact that I was surrounded by all sorts of family. I mean that in the respectable domesticated sense of the word, not in the literal these people share my blood line sort of way. I think if you’ve made it this far in my weekly ramblings you’re very much aware that I am lots of things but respectable isn’t really one of them. I say that is the most congenial way possible. I don’t think I’m a bad person, I’m just also very much aware that I’m the kind of person that doesn’t need any sort of formal introduction because it won’t be long before I’m introducing myself which will without a doubt be followed by awkward conversation that leads to me planting my foot firmly in my mouth. It also means I’ll swear a considerable amount which is fine by me.
See the thing is I made a decision long ago that I will absolutely refuse to apologize for who I am. Once during a conversation regarding the sort of initial impression I make on most women it was first suggested I “Be yourself.” and then told that I shouldn’t swear at all. I entered the defense that swearing is as much who I am as anything which was met with immediate friction. “Swearing is a bad habit, like smoking, it’s something you should avoid doing.” Fuck that. It’s just words. If you are so easily offended that the proper alignment of syllables causes you extreme dismay than you have much bigger problems to deal with than the guttural sounds I’m pushing out my mouth. Besides dialects and accents are just the sorts of things that make you who you are. You wouldn’t tell a Bostonian that he should stop talking like that would you? Hell no, that’s as much a part of who he is as anything else.
The thing is I don’t really have a North Eastern Pennsylvania dialect. There might be some remnants of the accent but I’ve worked hard to make sure I have as little of either. The only time I use the NEPA dialect is when I’m attempting a joke. I’ve worked pretty hard culminating a colorful dialect of words and phrases always on the lookout for words I can use to expand upon my current vocabulary. (for example next time you have to go “take a leak” call it a “pilsner” as in “Well I’ve got to take a pilsner.”) It took me until I was watching the “Back To The Well: Clerks 2” documentary on the 2nd disc of the Clerks 2 DVD when I realized I speak a dialect of vulgar geek carefully developed due to years of internet communication, Wednesday’s spent at comic book shops, too many LAN parties to count, and of course Crazy Billy. If you’ve ever been to the kind of comic book shop I was forced to frequent (due to geography, not some malicious scheme.) you’d understand what I meant.
So back to the story, I was surrounded by the sorts of people that would be insulted if I had cursed in front of them which is the kind of situation that would be met with disaster normally because my filter is long gone and I censor myself for no one. Lucky for all involved but myself I will make the best effort to censor myself when there are children involved because fuck I’ll be damned if I’m going to be responsible for corrupting someone else’s kids. I’ll corrupt relatives kids, the children of close friends, or in the eventual apocalyptic event my kids but not the kids of someone I’ve only met recently. By the time the little ones had left I had basically spent the better part of 8 hours without cursing which is the kind of horror no man should ever have perpetrated on another man. Most of the rest of the evening was spent meeting my daily quota for vulgarity which as you can imagine was incredibly funny to watch.
I finished Sam & Max just yesterday. With the exception of one puzzle that seemed rather obtuse (even for a game with Sam & Max’s level of abstraction) it was all relatively simple, but still clever. Unless you’ve never played a point and click adventure game before in which case I have no idea where you’d stand. I don’t have any idea how long it actually is, but the stated 2-4 hour time seems reasonable. Regardless it is a fantastic game. I highly recommend it if you enjoy that kind of humor. I’d recommend it even if you don’t enjoy that kind of humor but I can’t accept any repercussions that might occur because you are completely devoid of humor.
*If you get that reference that you are so awesome that you probably shouldn’t even be reading this.
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