My brother and his wife moved up to Montana this summer, and they didn't come down to our parents' house for the family Xmas gathering last weekend.
Not having my brother around for all the family traditions made me really sad, so when we did our annual "Toast to the dead people who aren't with us" (never let it be said that Wheatons do not have a morbid sense of humor) I called Jeremy so we could pose for a picture together.This photo was taken by our cousin.
As usual, everyone else is looking great, and I'm staring off camera, wondering how I'm going to introduce myself to the awesome people at my table.
Everything is better with FUCK THAT at the end.
"I realised I don't play games for the challenge. I don't need or want to be punished by a game for making mistakes. I play games for what Ron Gilbert calls "new art". I play to see the next level or cool animation. I don't play games to beat them I play games to see them. Coming to that realisation was actually sort of important for me."
(Quoted because this is exactly why I play games, too. This is similar to why I love Rock Band so much: it lets me immerse myself in the fantasy that I'm a rocker the same way sandbox games let me immerse myself in the fantasy of the game's world. It also explains why I vehemently hate fighting games.)
We spent yesterday up in Oregon, and holy shit Los Angeles had better look out, because we brought a hell of a storm back with us.
Because I haven't posted to my Vox blog in forever, and because I actually like this photo of myself, taken one day before I started growing the goat again.
I saw this linked on Electroplasmosis, and fell in love with it. Go look at the biggest version, and really take you time discovering all the different things happening here. It's great inspiration for a story.
All these things were in my backpack this morning.
This is Anne kicking my ass at Ms. Pac-Man.
