oh yeah, no shit paizo suddenly has an online store stocked with all the stuff a gamer might want? no fucking kidding! i guess that would explain your new "featured marketing" section, wouldn't it? fucking paizo. when i first subscribed to dragon it was pretty decent. not spectacular or anything, but there were things in there i liked to read. since the 30th anniversary of dnd, they've remade it in the image of wizards of the coast's dark side. i don't mind advertisements, as i've said time & time again. i welcome them, especially game related advertisements, because maybe i want the product they are pushing. but seriously, you don't have content anymore. you for sure don't have reviews. your reviews are always glowing, your articles are all basically an excuse for product placement. so fuck you! i'm done subscribing.
& so i guess the infection has spread to my lungs. or maybe "colony" is a better word than "infection." awoke this morning with what felt like a big chunk of dried phlem in my chest. i toddered sleepily into the bathroom to cough it out into the sink, where i could wash it away, & the next thing you know, i was practically wracked in two. clutching the side of the porcelin sink with one hand, leaning against the wall with the other, shaking back & forth with all the fury my (small, i always seem small) body could muster. hacking something up, something sharp-edged & barbed, something wriggling. i'm wrapped up like a scarecrow in blankets, & its like these fucking things are the insects crawlign around in my straw. by the time i realize what the ferric taste is in my mouth, the fucking thing has already started trying to thrash itself down the drain of the sink. its hooked tentacles wove in the air furiously as i picked it up, & walked it over to the other room to put it in the aquarium with all the rest.
so we closed the store early & rolled out the red carpets for peter's birthday last night. either that or, well, no. we did close the store early, but it was hardly a parade. there were no trombones, as i'm sure there should have been. i couldn't be more sure of anything. trombones, & exploding cigars. anyhow, everyone ended up flaking out- magdela called off with a bone chilling tale of having to do something with her god-mother, victoria begged off saying she was too sleepy, marsha just never showed, & ditto with janelle. which meant jenny was one of the only two girls that went to david's. david did his whole dashing chef thing, showing us a good chunk of irish hospitality. there was a whole lot of wine drunk (wine! at david's! only christopher touched the scotch, i think) & basically the motley crew was small in number- myself, jenny, peter, david, christopher, peter's brother, peter's brother's girlfriend. like i said, everyone bailed out at the last minute. thats like looking at the normandy beach & decided its too scary! fucking chicken. now that the inaugural list is out of the way, lemme jump right back on that horse & make another one, the food one: that lamb stew that david serves over pasta, colcannon, guiness gravy, macaroni & cheese & guiness, garlic stuffed chicken, pork of some sort, whiskey cake & guiness brownies. david likes to cook with alchohol, thank heavens. anyhow, peter's mundane brother was far less annoying taken out of context, & his girlfriend wasn't nearly as bad as i was expecting. so thats good news. yeah, we drank & goofed off, then waited too long for a bus in the rain. from there it was smooth sailing, though, as it normally is for me. b3 to the f train, then just breeze on home to the 7th ave. station. i was holding out hope that i was going to get laid? & i think i would have, too, except by the time we finally got home, jenny had to go to bed, since she woke up early this morning (since she had to wake up early the next morning, really. but the next morning is this morning! o tense). but for a minute there on the train, i thought i had a shot. this morning though? she was so considerate! she took the computer into the other room so she wouldn't bother me. that was awful sweet of her.
after talking to david about the quote accompanying the sabbat antitribu in the VtM revised? ("Who would have known a woman of her size would have had so much blood in her? Besides God. God knows everything. Can we get someone to clean this up?") i decided to wander through the book the quote is from. you know, mining it for ideas, lines, whatever. at the time i was also working on Gillick's profile, for my novel, so i was looking for cheap & easy inspiration. anyhow, i came across one of the things in the vampire metaplot that i had a strong opinion on. the harbingers of skulls. or in otherwords, the reborn cappadocians. now, here is the thing. a few score cappadocians who escape the great giovanni purge by hiding out in the lands of the dead, & return centuries later? fine & good. but the idea that they are somehow scary, that the giovanni should be worried? HELLO? the fucking giovanni wiped out the cappadocians when the gio's were just a bloodline. they've had several hundred years to grow into bigger bastards. a couple of shriveled up elders coming out of the shadowlands to extract their revenge? um, maybe you didn't get the memo where the giovanni kicked your ass the last time? anyhow, yeah- even though it never happened, that was going to be one of the climactic moments in my sabbat game, in ohio. where the bishop (moi) betrays the archbishop (deedee, or deidre, the walker of the veinous stair) to the giovanni. big fight, lots of slaughter, you know. cinema. cest la vie.
thing is? they don't know when we are kidding & when we arn't. its what makes being a role model so fun.