Parodizer

So while Eliot and I were crafting his song for his music class, we took a long time thinking of words that rhymed or ended in -ize/-ise/-ies. "Fries? Pies?"

And this is what I wrote while still writing the actual song. Enjoy, heh.


I sit here and wonder why
You would take away my fries
Let me have my appetizer
I need food, how could you?

My 7-Up is undersized
Screw the nuggets I want thighs
I better see my belly rise or
I’ll beat you, I’ll eat you

I’m waiting, I’m grieving
Bring my drink or I will be leaving
I’m screaming, I’m shouting
This potato’s raw and it’s sprouting
I’m aching, you’re taking
Way too long, it’s not like you’re baking
Where’s my food?


The last part "Where's my food?" no longer fits in with the actual song, because Eliot opted to change the original line "Where are you" to "I'm aching to hear from/answer you."

Resident Evil: Scariest Game of our Time

The title of this piece may surprise you, and that's no surprise to me. In recent decades, zombie related books, games, films, have all been rejected from the horror genre and have been classified as either action or comedy, usually the latter of the two or a combination of both. I will prove to you that zombie games are much scarier than you think.

Let's look at Resident Evil. You play the game as a human trapped in a zombie-infested environment with an assortment of powerful weapons. They limp towards you and you "kill" the undead by showering them with lead. You laugh at their weakness and you shoot them for pure entertainment. There is no fear towards these lifeless forms. You mock them because they're pitiful, and you despise them because they don't belong in society, even though they dominate mansions and cities in most zombie games. You feel powerful destroying these fragile creatures; their demise brings you satisfaction.

"But wait, how is that scary?" Shut up and read on, ladies and gentlemen. To understand the horror of zombies one must analyze them. Let's list some typical traits of the undead. Slow on their feet but quick with hands and mouth, forever hungry, dirty, lifeless. Sound familiar? That's right. Metaphorically, they represent the gamers in our society. Gamers are voluntarily paralyzed except for their hands for the keyboard or game console. Their mouths are also used for taunting online, as well as commands such as "Ma! Meatloaf!" and "Ma! Pee bucket!" Constant consumption of junk food helps energize gamers to complete games within 10 hours after purchase or illegal download. Personal hygiene is forgotten like a belt knife when surrounded by zombies, and like their enemies, players are lice-ridden and yes, they reek of death. Only a few die from playing computer games, but they all have no lives.

"That's still not very scary, Jerry." Oh yes it is. It's a fear aroused by horror rather than terror, because it isn't very noticeable unless you open your eyes and look carefully. Think of it this way: Zombies thrusting their arms out suddenly through broken windows scares you for that moment, but the dread of a possibly hidden predator is much more frightening. The ideas I am and will be presenting lie at the back of your minds, but they are too scary to accept, let alone confront. When you put your Resident Evil disk into your PS1 and moments later start busting caps into zombie heads, you are turning into one of them. You kill them because you're better than them, but you fail to realize that the longer you fight, the more it consumes you.

So you see? Resident Evil is not scary because of what happens in the game. It's the issues it brings up that's horrifying. The fear does not lie in the zombies themselves; the fear is that you'll become a nerdy gamer.

Sleepless

Sprained my ankle badly playing basketball after Salt.

It was so painful throughout the night, I didn't sleep until 8:30 in the morning or so. And only for an hour. There was no comfortable position, and the pain spread to different areas throughout the night.

But through it all, I felt God's hand through the people around me. Thank you all for taking your time to care for me. I really do mean it, friends.

Kicked in the throat

After service today, a couple of us went to Malaysia for lunch. When water arrived, I took a sip from my glass. As my nose hovered above the rim of the glass, I detected a rank odour that I was unable to identify, and I sipped the water. Then I sniffed it again, and was instantly repulsed by it.

"The ice smells funny," I said to Steve. He sniffed his glass and said all seemed fine. Then I made the comment to the others, and they did the same as Steve did. Nothing was wrong with theirs. Joyce smelled mine and had the same reaction I had. We agreed on what it smelled like, and we passed it down the table for others to sniff. Bobby detected nothing peculiar. Will dared not examine it himself, and said that Becca had an acute sense of smell. She sniffed it a few times with a sour face. She, too, agreed on what it smelled like.

It smelled like a stinking foot.

And I sipped it.

I ordered hot water right after, and told the waitress that we had an extra glass of water, which she took away. I was feeling nice, and didn't feel like telling her that it was rude to put one's foot on the dining table.

Moments later, Will visited the lavatory. He came out minutes later and complimented the lovely aroma in the men's washroom. Like oranges, he said. Great. The washroom smelled better than my drink.

Food arrived, and we had a good feast. Very delicious. I had a nasty feeling at first from the toxic beverage, but the food fought it off soon after we started eating. Near the end of the meal, we started talking about the Chinese old wife's tale concerning leftovers in one's bowl or dish. "Your wife's face is gonna be blemished! Your future husband's gonna be attacked by cats because of your eating habits!" followed later by "your wife is gonna be saucy if you don't finish that curry! Your wife is gonna be a hot chick (pointing at curry chicken)!" and so on. Great. My future wife is gonna smell like foot.

After that we had uncountable bouts of Scrabble. Didn't win a single game. Now I'm here.

Wh-thunk

I dozed off during tutorial today and my head smacked the table. I was wearing glasses.

Long Weekend Pt. 2

So after 5 or so hours of sleep, woke up at 9 to go to church for more BSB dancing. Got their 1 hour early because my brother had to be there at 11 to coach basketball. Bummed around until everyone showed up. Danced, finished the rap with Gummi. Went home, got changed, printed my rap, headed back out almost an hour later. Got to the restaurant Neptune Cove at around 5:45 or so.

The place was very open. We were about to make fools of ourselves. Shoot.

Had one practice run while 3 other groups of diners were eating. We got some claps, and it was pretty embarrassing. Also did a rap run through with Gummi outside of the restaurant. That was pretty smooth. Helped decorate the stuff afterwards. People started showing up.

I think most people knew what happened next, so I'm not gonna blog about it. Once again, I'm tired.

Next day was my brother's birthday. I took his swim gear and hid them in my knapsack. I also stuffed my new Scrabble set in there just in case he asked why I had my bag with me. That turned out to be a pretty good move, but I'll expand on that later. He actually did ask why I had my bag, and I told him what I had planned to say. After service we headed to Taste of Japan for birthday lunch. I got held back, however, since I had to do reception. I don't even think I signed my name. Oops. Oh well.

After lunch, we went to this wave pool place nearby. Sam, Karen and my bro swam for close to 2 hours, while El and Jay Way played DS. Steve, Brian and I entertained ourselves with Scrabble. We took pictures of the swimmers occasionally. We looked like pedophiles when we did, since where we were were a whole bunch of parents, and in the pool are other parents or kids age 5-12 or something. We were the only 20 year olds, and we seemed so out of place.

After that, we played more Scrabble. That's about it.

Long Weekend

No, I don't mean I have extra days off school. I do get Mondays off, but that's every week this semester, so that's not long to me, but normal. Actually, it's short compared to my weekends last semester, or the long weekends I had in the month of December.

Anyway, this weekend has been eventful. Andrew's 25th birthday party was on Saturday, and I was involved with two short performances. First, Gummi approached me the week before and asked if I wanted to do a rap with him for Andrew. I said I'd love to. Didn't start writing until almost halfway into the week, and by Friday night, the night before Andrew's party, I had 10 lines written and memorized. We also wrote to the beat of Grindin' by Clipse, and I suggested we rap along to that, because my lines probably sounded slow with music in the background. We finished writing the rap (or at least he finished his lines) the day of. We were at my house after church until almost 4 am, and I decided I would finish my lines in the morning. We figured out the sequence and everything and wrote a whole bunch of new lines. (Link to my lines)

We had to work so late into the morning because after fellowship ended, Edith, Sam, Bobby, Gummi and I had a practice for the Backstreet Boys performance. That was the first night we choreographed. Before then, I had no clue what we were doing, but I was asked a week in advance if I'd be interested in taking part in that. We did a whole lot of moving and the room got pretty stuffy real quick. We were also hiding from Andrew who was balling upstairs. We got most of the dance moves and singing down by the end of the night. Left around 1 am.

Ok, don't feel like writing anymore. To be continued.

It is also my brother's birthday today. More on that later.

Apocalyptic Sci Fi

Had my first class of Apoc Sci Fi this Friday, and I didn't feel I belonged. So many fat guys with beards talking about the scientific plausibilities of Star Wars, faster than light travelling, teleportation............