Well, I just listened to that interview I did for that gaming podcast thingy, and I only have one thing to say... goddamn have I become a boring fucker in my old age. What the fuck was I saying?! "Blah, blah, blah, CD-ROM, blah, blah, push the envelope, blee, bloo, blargh, the kids today, blibbedy, blobbedy, barf." I swear to god, the next time I do something like that, I gotta get myself seriously liquored up or something. Feh.
Then, like a moron, after it was over, I decided to check in on the chat room for the site, just to see what kind of people listen to the show. I logged in as "Crabbydad," thinking that I'd be nice and anonymous. So I'm on there for like five seconds and someone types, "Hey Crabbydad. Are you [my fucking name]?" I'm like, what the shit?! What are the odds that the one person who reads this drivel is in that chatroom?! Turns out it's someone who had found out about the blogs for the people who work for my company (how, I have no idea) and they had read my post about "doing an interview with some nerdarinos." Super. And by the way, as King of the Nerdarinos, I meant it as a term of endearment, like "chum" or "confrere," and not as a word meaning, say, "little nerdling who frequents gaming podcasts."
But they were very nice there, asking questions about our games and our plans for the future and shit. It would've all been very wholesome, had I not felt like some old fart lurking in some teenaged bull session. But instead, it had a whiff of creepitude. So I bolted.
Anywhiff, I'm glad it's over. Now I've gotta hit the hay and have another dream like I did last night, where I was lying in a hammock with a miniature, angry, growling silverback gorilla standing next to me. I haven't figured out what it meant yet -- the tiny gorilla either represents the frustrations I've been feeling by not being able to express myself musically lately, or it means I really need to shave my back.
Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go fling my feces at the wall.