|Doomworld - MY ROCK <3||December 14, 2009, 2:03 pm|
After seeing that cake on the frontpage this year, I honestly teared up a little. I've never really taken the time to take a step back and think about how tight-knit, talented, and absolutely amazing this community is. It just makes me giddy to know that there are people that enjoy this old game as much as I do, and are willing to apply their skills to make it consistently more awesome than before. I recently replayed some of my favorite DM maps (namely UDM2) with a few friends and had a blast. I then tried out Deus Vult 2 for the first time and all I can say is... jesus buttfucking christ on a crucifix!! How do you guys do these things?!
No matter how much or for how long Real Life interferes, Doomworld is always here. Whether you want to play a quick SP map to kill some time, a long epic wad to conquer over an afternoon, or maybe just to drop by the forums to read some thoughtful threads peppered with perfectly executed sarcasm--Doomworld delivers. And that is why I LOVE Y'ALL.
|I've got this friend, Karl. Karl is not your average bear.||October 16, 2008, 5:40 pm|
[skip to 5th paragraph if you don't care about the background info and just want to hear the juicy stuff]
Enter Karl Hungus. He's not the brightest crayon in the box--I'd say he'd be the brown one after somebody peeled all the paper off and colored in a life size picture of a bear. He's super abusive to the only on-off girlfriend he's ever had, and justifies his actions by saying that men are the "superior species." He also smokes weed more often than he breathes air. He's completely unaware of how dumb he is, and after getting a 3.8 GPA his first year of community college (with a schedule consisting of remedial math and introductory art classes) he suddenly thinks he's a genius. He uses "big" words in all the wrong ways, and leaves out very important words in sentences thinking that the big one sums up what he's trying to say. For example, we'd be talking about swimming and how hard treading water is and he would say: "Dude it's really like specifically, but too much for me." It's insanely hard to understand what he's trying to say. We'll be talking about a certain subject, and his response to a comment I make will be completely unrelated, but he'll keep talking like it makes perfect sense. Oh yeah, he also stutters ridiculous amounts. Here's a conversation we had the other day, when he was not high.
Me: "God man, how sore were you after wiffleball a few days ago? I could barely even walk the next day. I feel like I'm getting old."
Him: "Dude it-rea-it-rea-it-real-it-rill-it-rill-rilly is all about bein aware. Like all your energy comes from your lower stomach, but it's really your balls.
Me: ...Yeah I just tried to avoid stairs and stuff.
Him: You just gotta like focus your energy to those spots. They can for real be permeating with some heat after meditating. It's like your third eye is right here *points to spot between eyebrows* and whenyou-whenyou-whenyou-wehwehweh-whenyou. *Sigh... dude fuck it.
Me: (Sits in silence wondering what the hell to say next)
When he IS high, he usually doesn't even get past the beginning of his sentences. He'll get hung up on the first two words for 30 seconds or so, and then just give up. When he does manage to get the words out, he always somehow spins our conversations around into talking about meditation. When I'm around him it feels like I'm talking to no one since he is physically incapable of giving a response. I never make fun of him, however I don't feel one bit sorry for him. He's always had a stuttering problem, but it's gotten a thousand times worse and he knows it's solely because he's high whenever he's not sleeping. Unfortunately he also "knows" that weed helped him "set his life straight" because of all the "critical thinking" he does while baked. This critical thinking is just your typical stoner talk. While playing pool: "Dude, it's really just all about angles. I bet if you were really good at math you'd be good at pool." Instead of quitting smoking, he took up meditation as an attempt to shoo away his speech problem.
Now I'm the only person he'll speak to anymore, presumably because I don't laugh when he tries to talk. He also now avoids all social interactions like the plague. I ask him to come to parties with me and he'll say yes, then at the last minute give me some epic reason for why he can't go, and how bummed he is because of it. That all sounds pretty fucked up, right? Well, it gets much, much weirder.
I attributed all of these little quirks to him just being a goofy guy--that is until recently. I've been an atheist for awhile now. After hearing all my anti-god rants he gave up christianity and began a quest for a new code to live by. He somehow stumbled upon the law of attraction (I refuse to capitalize it because it's the stupidest shit I've ever heard) and now it's his life's mantra. Well, that and Qigong. He thinks that these two fit together perfectly and form what he calls "The Ultimate Truth." He tells me daily about how everyone's spirit is crying out for the release of qi. He says that I'm living a sad life without even knowing it, and that I need to be opened up to the world of qi so I can really start living. I figured there was no harm in him believing this, I mean yeah meditation does great things for lots of people. I then found out his real motivation behind all this:
JOHN CHANG: QIGONG MASTER/SUPER SAIYAN
(skip to 2:56 for the best part)
We're sitting at Hardee's having an extensive conversation about the force and how Vader is clearly the greatest villain there ever was and he says to me "You know dude, life is just so boring. I really don't wanna die without having superpowers." I laugh and agree with him, but he keeps a completely straight face. He then offers to explain his seriousness by asking if he can come over after we leave to show me some "tight youtube videos" of people shooting qi energy at each other. While we're watching these videos he gives me a rundown of how ancient China "really was." This history lesson is capped off with him telling me that he really, truly believes the show Avatar: The Last Airbender is real. This would be all fine and good if we were, say, 8 years old. But we're FUCKING TWENTY.
He also recently decided to start a grow op in his room. He's convinced that selling weed will allow him to "help" other people just like it helped him. Because of this, he is super paranoid and won't say a word to me over texts, the phone, or the internet because he can "feel their presents" (presence). He won't even go to certain websites because he's positive big brother is watching. Every time he wants to "speak to me about something" it has to be in person. He just recently asked me to come over to help him build something, which I assume you can figure out what. Along with being paranoid of even mentioning anything vaguely related to this stuff, he's positive he won't get caught. How could he? As long as he keeps thinking positively, it's "universally" impossible that bad things can happen to him. That's the beauty of the law of attraction. You see, thoughts are magnetic--like attracts like. (wait, don't magnets work the opposite way?) Need money? Quit dwelling on how poor you are and start attracting cash to yourself. Visualize being surrounded by piles of money and riches will surely find you. This IS how the cosmos operate folks, nevermind stuff like mass genocide and birth defects.
I have to deal with this dude on a daily basis and it's driving me fucking nuts. It feels good to vent. Here's a doc of 2 texting conversations we've had that demonstrate what a chore it is to talk to this guy. http://www.filesavr.com/texts
tl;dr - There's really no way to summarize this guy, just read a paragraph a day until you finish if you can't handle it all at once.
|omg birfday for me||August 26, 2004, 4:19 pm|
|Yes, thats right, Johnny is 16 today. Shower me with presents!|
|I just saw Anchorman for the second time today||July 12, 2004, 11:41 pm|
|Saying it's the greatest, funniest movie ever is an understatement. Will Ferrel is God.|