Decided, more or less on a whim, to get this game called Dying Light this morning.

And seeing as the game cost $65, that’s a heck of a whim,.

Quick review : not a keeper. It sounded good on paper and it honestly seems like a great game, but it’s not for me.

Mostly because my old ass is way too slow for it.

The idea : you’re a secret agent parachuted (literally) into Harran, a city in the midst of a zombie plague. You have to recover extra special files or the world will end.

The game is sort of vague about that part. Something about a toxin.

And the game sounded good. The rap was that you could parkour your way around this huge open world fighting zombies, crafting weapons, and scavenging.

It even has a Steam Workshop, which I love in games because it makes downloading and installing mods super easy.

But alas, it was not to be. Turns out my middle aged reflexes cannot keep up with the whole parkour thing. I was utterly lost.

So back it goes, and the search for my Next Big Game continues.

But at least I finally got my (Canadian style) Chinese food craving satisfied. I ordered from a place quite near to here called the Wing Kee, and had me some chicken chow mein and an egg roll both last night for supper and today for lunch.

To do so, I had to forgive the Wing Kee for getting rid of their Dinner for One and thus forcing me to pick one entree instead of the variety of smaller portions I used to be able to get from said Dinner for One.

The sad truth is, they are still my best option for what I consider Chinese food. Patient readers will recall that I have had a really bad (and ironic) time getting Canadian style Chinese food here , in the middle of one of the biggest ethnic and national Chinese populations outside of Beijing.

I mean, it makes sense if you think about it. I somehow doubt I could get Canadian style Chinese food in Beijing, either.

But it means that when I look up Chinese food on these food delivery websites, what I mostly get is a whole entire metric fuckton of places with menus containing words like “intestines” and “spleen” and “sour mushroom” but not a single thing the average Canadian would recognize as “Chinese food”.

So you win, Wing Kee. For now, at least.

Otherwise, things are going okay. I continue to strive to find the positive in life and hold on to it. To open myself up to life and end my long silent slumber. To let Spring come to me chilly little domain and bring the sunlight, warmth, and emotional nourishment I need come to me at last.

That means I am also digging deep into the soil of my soul to find that long buried id of mine. If anything can rescue me from my icily cerebral existence, it’s my good old fashioned primal life force of an id.

Because I am far, far more than a big ol brain.

And I can’t wait to prove that to the world.

More after the break.

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My kind of fun

I feel a little guilty saying this, but I am having way too much fun arguing with a surprisingly right wing Facebook friend.

His name is Sven Manning, and he’s been regurgitating some of that right wing incel misogynistic bullshit about how the game Last of Us 2 is being “ruined” by having more diversity “forced” into it by “SJWs” and how this means the company making it will “get woke and go broke”.

Well, if it rhymes, it must be true!

This stuff is hardly unique. In fact, one the markers of this particular brand of drooling moron is their tendency to regurgitate what others say whole – because as it turns out, even they can’t swallow that garbage for long.

However, to give you an idea of why I found this stuff coming from Sven Manning so surprising , I just got a nasty Facebook message from his husband.

That’s right, he is a man married to a man and yet he’s a right wing loon. I wonder if he knows what the rest of his misbegotten coterie think of people like him and his husband and their kind of marriage?

It’s like the Log Cabin Republicans all over again. But much, much worse.

And the thing is, I am loving this. This lowlife has accidentally made me very very happy because the truth is that I love to argue and fight, and my life rarely actually gives me any socially acceptable venue to do so.

Of course, he has no idea that he just woke the dragon. He will learn soon, though. I am, in this one way, a total bastard willing to nuke the positions I hate into glass with the power of my verbal and logical gifts.

I would have made one hell of a lawyer.

And because I am such a monolithic cunt when roused, there is only one way this conflict can end : by him banning and/or unfriending me.

Because I sure as hell will never give up, and I will continue to deliver the pain, so some time soon he will have to kick me out of his Facebook life just to make the pain stop.

At which point, I will consider him to have said “Uncle”, declare victory, and go back on my merry way without him, whistling a cheery tune.

In fact, I am enjoying this conflict so much that it’s making me want to finally get around to join right wing forums et al with the express purpose of making them ban me because I am upsetting all the fragile little snowflakes too much.

This is the kind of shit that makes me feel alive. I’m like a caged tiger suddenly given the opportunity to hunt. My verbal power towers over most people’s, and I plan to use that power to fight for all that is good and right and strong of heart against these feckless troglodytes whose mass lunacy threatens the entire human race.

So cry havoc and let slips the dogs of war.

I have found my joy, and it’s kicking ass with my awesome language skills.

And I haven’t used even one percent of my power yet.

Just wait till I really get going.

I will talk to you nice people again tomorrow.