Multiple fans but not an AC.

I'm allergic to my fucking allergy medication.

Doctors sometimes don't ask the right questions. Ask your doc to quote the Hippocratic Oath.

Banner Saga: Factions on Steam. It's a tactical TBS game, which is one of my favorite genres. Since it's a PvP, it's fun even when I lose.

"the kids are alright: How the Gamer Generation is Changing the Workplace" 2006

ISBN-13: 978-1-4221-0435-4
ISBN-10: 1-4221-0435-4

ithamore on Steam.

I'm playing The Banner Saga Factions currently, and I'm liking it.

Schrompf: Yes sir, very difficult to play, but I do wonder if I could make a game that looks like this on purpose and is playable.

As I was watching the video, I thought these graphics could be made into an interestisng game of its own.

I'll second that.

Faster Blaster again: it's being updated again. Spend at least 3 hours on it, and then get back to me or replying in it's dev thread.

I'm nearing the end of the game again.

I've played a little with the editor, so I don't know how that effected some of my experiences on this playthrough. Some bats have exploded on the ceiling when I was trying to jump and shoot them in midair (the stronger, second phase ones). I still see question blocks for info.

The few times I tried to use the editor, the vehicle often got stuck moving around in terrain, and I've been able to fall outside of the map more than once.

I might not be the best source of advice, since I'm more of a "power user" and a very mediocre programmer.

Learn to understand yourself.

Learn from others and learn by and from yourself.

Learn how to take your time when you need to take your time.

Learn that there is more than one language in life (this one might be too much from personal experience but is why I switched years ago to focusing more on spoke languages in comparison to mostly written ones but still have an itch for coding).

http://www.youtube.com/microscopics

I used: E8D3JMWDZH3ULQEQ

It's great you're working more on this. How much has changed since the November update?

I've already started playing it again and look forward to the progress you'll keep making with it.

Someone please give me an iOS device, so I can play this. 

[Shorty]

Shorty

There was a cockroach in the kitchen. That's were they're usually limited to for the night.

With everyone else asleep and being about an hour away from putting myself into standby, I had flicked on the light, closed the door, and there was Shorty: a big one and an easy target for the slipper I chucked at it.

There was no motion from it. So I breathed on it, the antennas twitched. Twice more I breathed on it and then tried to flip it over with the same slipper. However, the said slipper was already back on my foot. I flinched at the feeling of tiny legs and antennas scrambling across my right toes and sent Shorty smack back against the wall.

It landed upside down again and flailed its legs in fear.

There was an old wine bottle covering the floor drain next to it, which I then picked up. It slipped off the bottle the first time but clung to the label on its second try.

After I replaced the bottle over the drain, Shorty scrambled for the kitchen door and frantically searched for a crack to squeeze into but was far too big to fit between the millimeter gaps between the door jam and faux wood door.

And then it stopped and looked up at me. I knelt down and saw that one of the antenna was half as long as it used to be than a couple of minutes ago.

After a good eye to stare, I told it, "Go. I know you can either smell or taste what's on the other side, but you can't run off to the dining room or living room. Go. I don't need any trouble. Go." I then stood to shoo it away with a few waves of my hand until it hid in the shadows.

I grabbed my last beer from the fridge, closed up the kitchen door, sat down with a book and read while I was frustrated with myself for getting more worked up than I had wanted to do before dozing off.

A few days later, it appeared in my kitchen one last time. It was on top of the cans in the recycling bucket, standing still and searching about before it darted down into the half crushed cans. I smiled at myself while thinking, "Shorty likes beer more than I do."

Sake?

Careful there. Colorless? Yes.
Odorless? Yes. Enjoy, please.
Synesthesia.

These were my answers to the final for my summer Women's Lit class:

Paul Villapiano
ENG 380; Final Exam; 07-30-02

1.
   Although everyone ends up not liking the woman Sula had turned out to be, some sooner than others, it was not until her death that she was separated from the community.  Not even when the people of the Bottom were convinced she was a witch was she excluded from the community, since “it was not for them to expel or annihilate” the one that decided was “the source of their misfortune” (Morrison 2046).  But the people were glad that they were finally rid of her with her death, which was “the best news folks up in the Bottom had had since the promise of work at the tunnel” (Morrison 2060).  With Sula out of their lives they felt as though “a brighter day was dawning” (Morrison 2061).  However, Sula had burned as a magnificent fire within her community; she was a light they lived by and needed.  With her gone, their brighter day was drawing to a close.  As their sun set, they had mistaken that final flare of light for the break of morning, neglected the twilight, and were taken off guard by the night.
   It wasn’t as though they had had no warning.  The misfortunes that eventually befell them had been foreshadowed in Sula’s childhood.  It occurred during the microcosm of expulsion she experienced as a child, which she described as the time when she learned there was no one else to rely on besides herself and that, with the death of Chicken Little, she couldn’t even rely on herself (Morrison; from some page I can’t find but remember reading).  What had begun with the rejection she felt when she overheard Hannah saying, “I just don’t like her,” just after she had said she loved Sula led to a string of strange incidents that ended with Hannah burning to death and Sula just watching her from the porch (Morrison 2019).  So, if that is what could happen simply because Sula felt rejected, it is no wonder that such calamity befell the Bottom when they took liberty with her death to cut her off from their lives by not even morning her.
   With Sula out of the picture, the people of the Bottom lost the unity they had gained through her.  She had been their excuse that gave them “leave to protect and love one another” (Morrison 2046).  They had taken Sula as an argument against their own way of life; she was there antithesis.  But without the blessing of having her there in the role placed upon her as the threat to constantly remind them of how much they need each other and of how valuable they were to each other, they ceased with the increased loving and caring they had been performed upon them in rebuttal.  She had shed light upon their lives and enabled them to see the true importance of their relationships.  But they had taken this new insight out of context, so when the light faded away, they returned to their previous bitter state.
   Maybe it was a combination of the warmth lost when Sula’s waning flame had been snuffed out by her sickness and of the warmth lost from the hearts that didn’t love, and weren’t loved, as much as they had before that brought the days of frost so suddenly.  And without the support of one another, the ice storm and its long lingering and misfortunes became worse, and added to the string of strange signs that warned of the upcoming dire, climatic conclusion, a ruined Thanksgiving and Christmas.  And maybe the warmth was brought back by Sula in those first few days in January and brought back the joy with her that they finally felt on the third day as she returned in the spirit to witness what she knew would come, to see what the final blow would be and what it would be like, to stand off in the distances somewhere behind and beyond Shadrack and the others to just watch the burying and drowning from the edge of her eternal abode.
   And to add to these calamities, just as they turned on each other without Sula to unite them, the people also ended up turning on their community.  They came down from the Bottom, the white upper class took it over, and since it no longer existed as a real place, it became another one of the mere locations of  “separate houses with separate televisions and separate telephones and less and less dropping by” (Morrison 2068).  With all of this together, Toni Morrison showed the misfortune that befell the community of the Bottom when they finally excluded Sula in her death.

2.
   Women’s literature contains several reoccurring similarities throughout the centuries partly because of the tradition of literature and ideals that have built and been passed on through generations of writers and readers.  The similarities also exist because society hasn’t changed much toward women, and the improvements it has made were slowly done so.

This is one I've been working on as gift for my wife for Mothers Day. It's like a broken haiku.

A Beautiful Woman

can have any kind of heart
she loves.

[Sentence Sound]

This was in my final project, but I've changed the title since then.

Sentence Sound

Though the net was down,
we played a game of tennis
since the ball still bounced.

This one was in inspired by a biography I heard about that was written about Robert Frost. He was having an argument with another poet (give me a minute: Wallace Stevens).

Paraphrase (from Frost): "Poetry without form isn't art".

I've played tennis with the net down, and all we did was change the rules when we we're kids just waiting for our parents to finish their softball games.

I'm on new meds, and my doc told me to cut back to one if it makes me hyper. So this is so therapeutic right now to keep me busy. So, here's a new one (and anyone can use it):

I grew up poor; I didn't grow up stupid.

[Ethical Cleansing?]

I'm going to post some of my old stuff (unedited for now), because I could use some opinions. Also, I really should start publishing or just sharing it.

My emphasis was poetry.

This is from when I was studying at my university, but I can't 100% remember if my prof accepted it as part of my Senior project for my BA:

Ethical Cleansing?

The thorough Washing of a ton of sin is turning
into an ignorant exchange of fiery hate
because a good offending is the best de-fencing method
for minds to let their livelihood stock run free.

Yes; some of us took more than a slap in the face



Note:  This came to me in a mentality that was brought on by 3.) having to read a bad selection of e. e. cummings, 2.) a distrust of wars, 1.) a state of irritability brought on mostly by the recent flood of politics, and some disconnection that is needed from time to time for even my own normality.

I'm probably 90% sure it wasn't, since I didn't fix the punctuation. Also, this note technique of mine is something I used to help me write. I would think, I would do all sorts of random research, and then I would write as if I was time was the most important thing to me.