Games, Guns and Women II

Everything New is Always Bad

The Sandy Hook shootings happened about two years ago now. At the time it was widely reported across various media outlets that the person who did the killing—I remember his name, but refuse to use it, because fuck him—played a number of video games, among them titles from the Call of Duty franchise and Mass Effect 3. A few days afterward, my wife, who doesn’t think much of video games, came to me and we had a long conversation about what the shootings meant.

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Games, Guns, and Women

On Selling My Xbox

#GamerGate has been in the news a lot lately. I’ve also recently decided to sell my Xbox. Yesterday afternoon, I made my way down to the local Game Stop. I wasn’t able to go through with the sale, mostly because the new Call of Duty came out at midnight, and there was only one person working early on a Sunday afternoon. She told me, “It’s going to take a long time to do the sale, because we have to test it, and then wipe it.” I nodded and handed over my games, for which I got a little over eighteen dollars.

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Conversation with my daughter

We are walking to Rite Aid when a mother and her daughter cross the street near us. My daughter points to the girl who, in my view, is kind of a really mean, not at all nice little kid. 

She says, “Hey that’s my friend.”

I ask, “What’s her name?”

“I don’t know.”

“Don’t you think you should know your friends’ names?” I ask.

After a pause, she says, “All I know is that she’s really good at not sharing.”

Wherein I make good on my earlier threats regarding fanfic

So, I did it. I’d like to say I’m ashamed or some such, but I actually rather enjoyed doing this. In a little while, I might post slightly more typo-free versions on this page. In the meantime, here’s a link to my page over at Go ahead, nerds. Click that link. I dare you.

Yes, I am aware that I am a huge nerdork. Nothing to see here. Move along.

Farmer’s market conversation

We’re at the farmer’s market. My wife, seeing that the coffee guy is there, says: Hey you want to get some coffee?

Me: Meh.

Her: What? How come?

Me: It’s good coffee and all, but last time—it takes him a while to make your cup and so he starts talking to me about roasts and blends and flavors and stuff.

Her: So?

Me: It was awkward.

Her: That doesn’t make any sense.

Me: Well. So, imagine your crack dealer started talking to you about different varietals of cocaine, when really they should be saying, This shit’ll get you messed up.

Stating the obvious so you don't have to.


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