Month: April 2006

Well, I turned in Games of Our Lives, and I get to walk away from the computer and do some marathon training, but before I go, I thought I’d point out some of the stories I’ve worked on recently at CardSquad and SGNews:

At SGNews, (which is safe for work):

• I edited a story that Seanbaby wrote about Lara Croft entering the Guinness Book of World Records. Seanbaby is hellafunny, and his story cracked me up.

• I also wrote two stories of my own, about a disposable MP3 player that just costs nine bucks, and a story about Apple offering (or not offering) adult movies in the iTunes Music Store.

• There’s also a story I wrote last week about this guy who modded a 1988 Ford Escort into a street legal Landspeeder. For reals. It’s a story that I’m particularly proud of, because I got to work in a ton of geek jokes.

At CardSquad:

• I opine that the F-Bomb Rule has got to go.

• Also, Bodog was sued over their reality show,
  which is quite a lucky bit of free publicity for them, just a few days
  before the show is set to air.

In poker-related news, this
Sunday I’m filling in for Isabelle Mercier in the Tournament
Leaderboard Heads-Up match at PokerStars. Two weeks ago, I filled in
for Joe Hachem and won, bringing my record in those matches to 3 and 1.
I’m hoping to make it 4 and 1 this week. Even if you don’t have a PokerStars account, you can download the client for free and watch me play, if you’d like. I’ll put up all the details on that later this week.

Okay, I’m off to run, then walk, then run a little bit more, then curse about how much my side hurts, then run again. Anne will have a post about the marathon in the next day or so, maybe even tonight if I can bug her enough to write it.

. . . one last thought, because I think it’s important to mark moments like this: I have a really great life, and I’m incredibly grateful for that. I can head out at 1:10 in the afternoon on a Wednesday, after writing stuff that I’m proud of and enjoyed working on all morning, to train for a marathon that I’m running in to raise money for cancer research in June. Later today, I’ll get to play Risk with Ryan and Nolan, then watch Lost tonight after having BBQ for dinner with my family. And I know that, if my dog could talk, she’d say, "I love you, Wil, so I’m going to keep hitting you with my paw until you get up, take me outside, and throw the ball."

Okay, maybe it’s more about the ball than it is about me, but I’m still one of the luckiest guys in the world.

Remember that one time in Encounter At Farpoint when Counselor Troi wailed out, "Pain! Pain!"

Remember when Mr. Spock was all, "Pain! Pain!" which was totally not Vulcan-like?

Remember when [Lost spoiler redacted]?

Remember that time your company had a Christmas party, and instead of a band, they got an Agony Booth?

Yeah, that’s me right now. Yesterday, I was smashing some trash down in the trashcan beneath the sink, and I learned that a dogfood can lid on its side is an incredibly efective cutting tool, especially against the top of my thumb, just across the knuckle.

If you ever want to see what the inside of your thumb looks like, or you want to bleed twenty-three gallons of blood all over your house on your way from the kitchen to the bathroom (because, having seen the inside of your thumb, you’re kind of in shock and don’t stop to think, "Hey, there’s a sink right here, dummy, don’t go all the way across the house to the bathroom!") or you’d just like to watch your normal typing rate drop by 90%, this is a great way to do that.

Oh, and as an added bonus? You get to wake up about every 90 minutes all night long, because your thumb is throbbing, itching, or both. And if you play your cards right, you’ll get to have a tetanus shot, too.

Yeah. Goodtimes. Good. Times.

Hopefully, I’ll be back to normal by Thursday, but until then, probably not so much new spiffy stuff here or elsewhere, because typing is a real bitch right now.

Afterthought: a bunch of people have asked why I didn’t have the deadly lid and the can in the recycling, where it belongs. That’s a good question; unfortunately, the answer is: I just didn’t walk the lid out there, and the can was being used to hold bacon grease (gross.) If it makes a difference, I’ve had PTSD every time I’ve gone anywhere near the sink in the last 24 hours. And I’m on my way to the hospital to get a tetanus shot tonight, instead of waiting for my regular doctor tomorrow afternoon.

11 PM – Aaaaannnnd I’m back. I went to urgent care at 8, because "that would be faster than the ER," logic which apparently comes from the run-across-the-house-while-bleeding portion of the brains.

Okay, it actually was a lot faster than the ER, and I had no business being in the ER with my gaping and life-threatening little wussy cut anyway . . . but let’s be honest with each other: didn’t "that would be faster than the ER," logic which apparently comes from
the run-across-the-house-while-bleeding portion of the brains make you giggle a little bit? I’m glad, because nothing makes a joke funnier than pointing it out, and going on and on about it.

The attending was impressed with my butterfly sutures and my splinting, didn’t laugh at my totally awesome pirate bandage, and gave me a tetanus booster before sending me on my way with no need for making-Wil-faint stitches. I was going to ask for a "be nice to be cuz I’ve been shot" sticker, with the teddy bear and the hearts and bows, but I figured that being able to take a rusty nail without fear until I’m forty-three years-old was good enough.

How about if I wait six weeks to call. I could tell her I found her number while I was cleaning out my wallet, I can’t remember where we met. I’ll ask her what she looks like and then I’ll ask her if we fucked. How about that? Would that be money?
    -Mike, Swingers

There aren’t any real developments on the Sci–Fi hosting front, and I only have one really great Fark Cliche left, which is why I haven’t written about it recently. Like I said before, I have to just let go of these things after a certain point, accept that it’s entirely out of my hands, and keep moving forward with everything else in my life.

But so many people sent me supportive e-mails and left supportive comments, I didn’t want to leave you all hanging with nothing, so here’s what I know: we followed up last week, and found out, for certain, that the people responsible for the show really liked what I did. As far as I know, I’m at the top of their list for the job. But we haven’t heard anything from the network people, who are ultimately responsible for making all the decisions.

And that’s where we’ve been, sort of floating in the doldrums on the Sea of Waiting. As far as I know, the show is still going to happen. As far as I know, when it does, I’m one of the first guys they are going to talk to about hosting it. And as soon as we open the box, I’ll let you know if the cat is dead or alive.

Until I know something new, let’s all ponder the meaning of life with these owls: