It's currently the middle of June and, right on
schedule, sleeping problems rear their ugly little heads again. I have no real cause which I can place blame upon for the situation, but hey, it could be worse. At least this year I have an air-conditioned room and a far higher overall energy level. Though I generally prefer the days where I don't get enough sleep at night to be weekdays, simply due to the fact that my easiest way to stay awake and get energy is to go to the gym (which is closed on weekends). I head to my local gym, lift a bit, play about two hours of basketball, and then by the time I get back home I feel fairly energized. Yes, I know, positively
riveting.
I haven't actually brought the little feller up lately, but I think it's a good time to note that my
little feline progeny has been doing well lately. He was getting way too energetic to stay in my room, so now all of his cat-necessities reside in the basement of the house... So he's got an entire house to himself. He particularly likes to take naps in the second-floor sink. I also recently realized (actually, more like a ladyfriend realized it for me) that little Hobbes is, just that:
little. He has to be one of the smallest full-grown (or darn close, at least) that I have ever seen. I never actually saw the home he came from, nor the rest of the litter, but I wouldn't have a difficult time believing that he was the runt of the litter. Or some kind of pygmy kitten. I also found out that
Meow Mix, while having an awesome jingle, is in fact
not the Taste So Good Cats ask for it by Name! The little
binky (note to self: never use this word again) got so sick from the stuff. Little vomiting cat. It's very sad. Sadder to see. Sadderer to smell. Saddest to clean up.
And now, pictures of said cat. The one on the left is him trying to tell me that he still has back claws and can unlock my door and kill me in my sleep if I walk a single step closer. The one in the center shows his talent for monopolizing space on my bed. The one on the right is his best impression of one of the gatekeepers of
Zuul.
While I'm on an image rampage, let me now make your eyes
bleed at the sight of the single most frightening bunny that you'll ever see. It's like some cute, innocent, girl rabbit shacked up with
Bunnicula and had a big batch of bunnies. Of that batch of bunnies, there was one runt bunny that was not even loved by his distant biological vampire father bunny, and scorned by his eighteen siblings. This bunny became very sad at his own reputation amongst his clan, and he then ran away from the hole they called home. He then, in an act of desperation, almost resorted to a life of turning tricks (oh, man, that was almost
too easy) in the Red Light District of the city in which he called home. Before he became a full-fledged Bunny of the Night, though, a traveling film caravan led by Steven Spielberg passed by bunny's newly staked-out corner. The bunny hopped on this gypsy-like gathering of humans, and became one of the first test subjects for the alien make-up work in
Close Encounters of the Third Kind. Bunny, I dedicate this image to you. Since it
is you.
Continuing on this theme, and adding to the absolutely abysmal variety of non-text entities in this entry, here are some more bunnies that I have decided to label or mock. Each item in the following list is a link to the associated picture.
Speaking of cute, fluffy, adorable little rodents, my friends' ravings about
American History X and my own boredom finally resulted in me actually watching the movie. I now know these people not by the title of "friends," but rather the title "People Who Need to be Slapped." It was a fantastic movie, to be sure, and
Edward Norton definitely shows off his almost incomprehensibly great acting... But, wow, this is the kind of movie which breaks hearts, shatters souls, and ruins days. It was an hour and forty-five minutes of hard-to-watch scenes (and
John Connor's high-pitched whine) and then there was that bright rainbow at the end of the tunnel, and I settled down for a fairly nice, feel-good ending. Then... Well, let's just say I got
Pay It Forward'd to an extreme degree. My night was ruined. If it wasn't such a fantastic movie worthy of Edward Norton's oscar nomination, I'd have no problem telling people to avoid it at all costs... But, dammit, it's actually really quite fantastic. I'll just never be the same again. My inner-child is hunched up in a fetal position in the corner and the only thing that can be heard is his muffled sobbing.
And, finally, let me just let it be known that I'm a slave to
The Man. I actually bought the
Special Forces expansion pack (as noted
before), but I went a step further and purchased
both of the $9.99
booster packs. Each has some new weapons/items and three fairly well-designed maps (or so I've heard; I haven't actually found a decent server to test out Euro Force on)... But I think the act of buying these at all completely detracts any financial qualms (let's not even
talk about how I've forsaken one of my
most popular articles) I've ranted about in terms of MMORPGs. I justify it by saying that none of the "packs" were necessary whatsoever and are a one-time purchase, but I think the cost actually rivals that of a three/four-month subscription to your average MMO. Oh well, at least the game keeps me entertained during my sleep deprivation periods.
Wait a second, the last time I had problems sleeping was a year ago around this time... And the only game I was playing then was, in fact, Battlefield 2. Crap. Oh well, when the game works (and it has appeared to have gotten far more reliable and well-balanced), it's an absolute blast to play. Then again, I used the same logic when I was dating a girl a few years ago who was awesome on good days, and was like some kind of cruel, unusual force of
torture who used her talent for inflicting pain against me on the days which weren't good (so... Five-six days out of our seven-day EarthWeek).
Then again, that relationship didn't exactly end well.
now you welcome me to a town called hypocrisy