Category: Twitter Tells Me

October 23, 2012

Twitter Tells Me: Games and Their Levels

Marinaisgo: None of my drafts are interesting, and I have no idea what to write about instead. Twitter, what should tomorrow’s blog be about?

lthrchris89: @Marinaisgo the careful balancing act of proper learning curves, why some games rock and some games fail at grabbing the casual gamer

mechtroid: @Marinaisgo Why people value difficulty in the games they play and jobs they do.

Ok. That’s freaky. You guys should hang out. Actually, besides this question I don’t think there are any two of my twitter followers that could be more different from each other.

Anyway, this is like that part in the Matrix where somebody tells Neo that the first world the machines made was perfect, but it didn’t work because people kept killing themselves, or rejecting the alternate reality or something. In fact, I was just having a conversation about difficulty levels this morning with my sweet boyfriend while we walked out awesome dog. I told him that, per capita, the rate of mental illness in the first world far outstrips the third world, but now that I’m writing this, I can’t find any articles to support my claim. At least they seem to be happier in the third world, which is really what I’m getting at anyway. Ease without skill, money without work, possessions without substance will always lead a person headlong into ennui. That’s one of the reasons I get so much joy out of this blog. Meaningful work is a major mood stabilizer for me.

You should probably try not to consider what kind of universe I live in where cracking jokes about Snoop Dogg’s Partnership with Hot Pockets is meaningful work. Let’s just say it’s magical and leave it at that.

For the most part, recreation is very much the same as the rest of our lives. We want to be engaged, we want to be challenged in small ways that allow us to repeatedly feel the sense of accomplishment we get from a job done right. Games present this, or at least try to. They are accomplishment machines. Put in a little time, master the (hopefully) relatively simple learning curve and all of a sudden you’re saving the galaxy, getting the ladies (or dudes), and being fucking awesome. All from the comfort of your personal naked time. I think, more than the story, graphics or gameplay, the learning curve is what has put me off most of the games I’ve ever been put off of. Too slow, and I get bored, too fast and I get frustrated. And, unlike life, where you just have to bend over and take that learning curve up your ass and out your throat, games can be rage quit. And frequently are, if you’re like me. Actually, since I made a conscious decision to stay the fuck away from Grand Theft Auto games, I have yet to rage-quit a game. Oh wait, that’s not true. I rage-quit the rotating spike pillars of death in God of War. Ben actually had to complete that level for me as I paced back and forth and yelled at the TV behind him.

That whole level was mega brutal:

What was I talking about? Oh yeah, how much that Hades level in God of War fucking SUCKED. I still love that game, though. You my boy, Kratos!

Do you ever read something back and think “Someday, I’m going to sound really smart.” Probably when this language is obsolete. People will think I’m Shakespeare. I mean, look at what they think about Shakespeare. Half his jokes are fart jokes, and nobody even knows it.

Why yes I did just write that addendum so I could use an adorable GIF I found on tumblr, how sweet of you to notice.

September 12, 2012

Transgender Transformers

Today was one of the many days where I couldn’t think of anything to blog. So, I asked twitter what to write about and my friend noarmsjames came though for me with this piece of awesome:

Case in point:

This actually isn’t my discovery, James Adomian retweeted a fan who tweeted this to him about a week ago.

Anyway, Starscream being a giant, evil dragqueen doesn’t necessarily mean that he’s transgender. As any gender advocate will tell you, gender bending does not necessarily indicate a desire to transition. Some queens are just fabulous; some boys are just girls, and visa versa. No big deal.

The idea of transgender people being like transformers works insofar as they are one thing presenting as another thing, at least until transition. I don’t actually know that much about Transformers, but I have a feeling that on whatever planet they come from, they’re not all running around pretending to be cars rather than being themselves all the time. They probably feel that they have to pretend to be cars in order to fit in with the rest of earth society. They probably think that the people of earth aren’t ready to accept giant robots into their society. And they may be right, which is why they stay closeted except to their fellow transformers and a few chosen allies, and they’ll never really know if their adopted planet could welcome them, the real them, with open arms. The world of a transformer really is quite small. Of course, the benefit to being a transperson, rather than a transformer is that 1. There are already a lot of other transpeople out in the world and 2. The government probably won’t try to capture and dissect you if you come out as trans.

June 21, 2012

The Creation of the Toctopus a.k.a You’re Welcome

So this morning, I asked my twitter friends to tweet me words and I would draw them. Since I can’t always think of a new blog post every day, I’m lazily pasting better quality scans of the exact same drawings I just tweeted.

I know, I’m an inspiration.

Kawaii for @mechtroid

Batman for @TheInfamousBiGD

You may be asking yourself why his torso is so exceedingly long. This is the earth 12 batman, where everybody’s the same, but their torsos are really long.

Schwarma for @aldoxcab

Toctopus for @ApparentlyMary

Then I ran out of words, and also my hand got tired. So I stopped drawing.

January 25, 2012

Twitter Tells Me: Prime Minister Crampy, the Cheese Senorita

It’s that time again: I feel I’ve neglected the blog long enough that I harass my poor twitter followers until they tell me what to write about. It’s a good system.

MooPigMoo: Any homeopathic remedies for crazy bad endometriosis pain? Heating pad and Tylenol aren’t cutting it.

This is something my awesome Mexican dad used to do for me, and it worked. It takes about 20 minutes, but my endometriosis cramps almost totally went away. Boil about 4 real cinnamon sticks and 2 lemons, sliced in a medium pot of water. Strain the sticks and lemons out, drink the water as a tea and lay back and relax.

Tuttle88: Ive been trying to think of a question for you but I got nothing. I’m asking ppl who their fav prime minister is though

That’s an excellent question. My favorite prime minister is Margaret Thatcher. Not because I respected her hard as nails exterior and rotten to the core interior, not because I believe her revolutionary attachment to red mirrored and inspired my own feelings on the color, but because she is and probably always will be the only one I can remember. Oh wait, Winston Churchill was a PM, wasn’t he? Never mind, my favorite Prime Minister was Winston Churchill. For obvious reasons (we’re both fat).

And I know that other countries have PMs, not just England, but damned if I can remember them either.

ManagerJohn: American cheeze vs Bleu Rubber chickens VS Whoopie Cushions? something there I think

Of the multitude of cheeses I enjoy, American and Blue both fall into the “not so much” category. Yes, there are times my culinary life where no other cheese will do, but those are rare. I much prefer the subtle delicacy of a Munster, the strong yet understanding tones of the Havarti or the sharp and simple clap of the Jack. Alas, my cheese dance card is full to overflowing with healthier and less offensive cheese than American and Blue respectively. As for rubber chickens and whoopie cushions? They both have their place: outside in the trash.

AldoC81: I just got a crockpot. Write about how the fuck I’m supposed to use it. Are Mexicans even allowed to use them?

I have been told that the crockpot is the gateway to excellent foods without any effort on your part. It is the antithesis of everything Mexican children are taught about cooking. For Mexicans, in order to have good food, you must first wake up before the sun. Good Mexican food involves lots of standing, repetitive motion, multiple pots and pans, lots of mixing and cutting and sweating in a hot kitchen. Mexican mothers start Christmas dinner on Thanksgiving. No amount of preparation is too much! The crockpot, on the other hand, is a stew maker. You cut things a little bit, but not too much, you throw them in the pot and you punch a couple of buttons. Go to work, go out with friends, the crockpot doesn’t care. You do you. It does dinner. The closest this thing gets to Mexican is a batch of Fiesta Chicken. Yum.

Wotusay91: wot about us men who giveup work toB primary full time dads of little peoples (I,m a builder doing it &love it )-discuses please

I used to be pretty hypocritical about the stay at home dad thing. I would get all self-righteous when women decided to leave their careers to stay at home with kids, but I thought men doing the same thing were totally alright, admirable for doing that, even. Eventually I realized (or, more likely it was pointed out to me) that I was holding women and men to a different standard, violating the very principals I claimed to believe in. By saying that all women should hold their careers as more important than their children, I was applying my value system to someone else’s life. In truth, I have no authority to say one way or another what the right thing is for another person to do. And the older I get, the more I believe that things like career success mean fuck all when it comes to your children. My dad was never successful. In fact, he was homeless for most of my childhood. But he took the time to talk to me, and hang out with me, and make me feel cared for and important. That’s the best gift I’ve ever gotten. If you have time to be with your children, that’s an amazing thing, no matter if you’re a dad or a mom, aunt, uncle, grandma, grandpa or genderqueer 5th cousin twice removed.

August 5, 2011

Twitter Tells Me: Douching, Public Anxiety and Hashtag Hate

@Tuttle88 asked: why do women, specifically American women, douche?

Well my foreign friend, America isn’t called the land of milk and cheese for nothing.

Actually, I don’t really know. Being an American woman who refuses to douche, or do any of the idiotic, damaging and unnatural and downright snatch-unfriendly things advertisers tell us to, I have no idea what’s wrong with these cunts. As you know, Americans invented everything, which means that modern advertising was born and tested here. So we’ve been getting decades and decades of slick professional messages telling us to wash away the filth of our sinful mama makers. Eventually, even a reasonable lady might look at the vagina shaped hand puppet in that horribly racist Summer’s Eve commercial and think “you know, maybe my clam sandwich should actually smell like fresh cut grass.”

God damnit. It looks like Summer’s Cleave up and took all their commercials off of youtube. That’s just no God damn fun. Trust me when I say they were creepy, bad and racist. And baaad!

Anyway, douching is stupid.

ThereminJelly said: I did some public performing the other day. How about something about anxiety in public? Or about dealing with it.

I’m ok with performing in public, or speaking to large groups, that’s cool. But if I have to stand in a long line or shop in a crowded store, my palms get sweaty. Something about all those people, pushing up towards you, zombie-like with their mismanaged children and carts full of gallon vodka really makes a heart beat faster. And not in the fun way. In a horrible way.

It’s especially bad if the shelves in the store are tall. If I can’t see over them, I get a choking feeling in my throat and the music from psycho starts playing in my spleen. Obviously I’m being a little dramatic for entertainment value, but those things do bother me about being in public near people I don’t know.

I usually try to get away from the main density of the crowd, or I take out my phone and distract myself from my doom. Also, deep, even breaths.

JoshAintFunny suggested: blog about something you hate (or disklike heavily if ‘hate’s’ too strong a word for you)

I am really starting to hate this stupid fucking hashtag meme. You know what I’m talking about. It started on twitter as an ironic and cutesy joke where you would tweet something like “washed the dog today” and then add the adorable precious hashtag like #coveredinwater, because you get #coveredinwater when you wash a fucking dog. Right?! I can’t take the funny, it’s literally killing me from every possible direction #notreally.

Now it’s simply everywhere. The whole sloppy internet is covered in ballsackingly lame hashtag footnotes to things big and small. “Had another stupid baby #freetummytuck.” “Dad killed himself while jerking off yesterday #familyvacation.” “Fucked a warm melon with your face painted on it in my own wine-dark blood #pleasetakemeback.” It’s unbearable. I’ll even admit to having participated in this madness myself, but that was weeks ago, in the heady go-go upshot of what became this horrible plague meme. I make amends for my part in it, and I need this shit to end.

July 18, 2011

Twitter Tells Me: Sex, Suicide and Unsafe Driving

As is my habit (and in order to get the poetry as far away from the top of the page as I can) I have once again turned towards twitter for blog inspiration. Here are the tweet suggestions my lovely followers have given me.

Teddy_Picker: You and Dr. Boyfriend boning. I always enjoy hearing about that.

sarahcampeau: @Teddy_Picker yup…let’s live vicariously through you!

punkn: @Teddy_Picker Agreed!

Considering that I just learned that at least 2 of my boyfriend’s friends from high school read this blog, I have a new found respect for the concept of modesty. But I do always say that I’ll answer any question and tackle any subject. On those principals, I founded my life, and out of respect for them, I refuse bitch out. Also, I’ve ran this whole post by him to make sure I’m not offending his sensibilities. So, if you don’t want to hear about hardcore, long-term-monogamy-style fuck-fests, read no further.

I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again: I love having sex with my boyfriend. I don’t understand when people say they get bored with sex. They must not be doing it right. Yeah, it’s the same basic thing every time, but so are deviled eggs, and no red-blooded patriot can get enough of those motherfuckers.

For example, the other day, I was already late for work and packing my lunch in the kitchen when Ben came up behind me and bent me over the counter. I told him I was late for work, and continued to bag salad fixings, but we both knew I had no plans to stop him.

Sometimes the best part of waking up is cumming your brains out with your face smashed into the cutting board next to your lunch. I’m glad to say I went 3 for 3 in about ten minutes that morning. Sadly, Ben was 0 for 0 despite my efforts. If I am a sexual sprinter, my boyfriend is more of a cross country guy. Don’t worry, I have every sportsmanlike intention of helping him make up for the loss.

wotusay91: Is it nobler in the mind to suffer the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, Or to take arms against a sea of troubles?

This is from the bit in Hamlet where he’s contemplating suicide. Having contemplated suicide myself, and not being suicidal at the moment, my answer is a firm “not exactly.” The way Hamlet sees it, he has two options available. Either he continues to be a victim, or he fights back. But not through victory, through the ultimate defeat.

When contemplating suicide, it can seem like your choices are limited. Your vision becomes blurred, you can only see the bad. But the light comes in when you realize that total victory over your “sea of troubles” should never be the goal. It’s the fight itself that’s the difference.

I can feel dragged down by depression more than I care to admit. When I consider the “sea of troubles” my mind pretends I have, fighting to keep my head above water can seem like a daunting task. But when I focus on the fact that I have fought it back, that I continue to fight for my health and well being, every action towards that end is a victory in itself.

wotusay91: Blog about why euthanasia should be compulsory for crusty,s that have forgotten how to drive safely

Euthanasia is a little harsh, don’t you think? My grandmother actually gave up her drivers license recently because she felt that she was becoming a danger, and it’s been really depressing for her. She has friends who still drive, her boyfriend drives and my mother drives her around, but it’s not the same. Not only has she lost a great deal of independence, the drivers license is a symbol of her general decline in health and mobility in the last few years. A decline that she feels she will never recover from.

She has shared with me recently that she’s stopped doing a lot of things she used to enjoy. They have become tedious, they are more difficult lately than they were years before. I’m glad she gave up her license, her driving had gotten frightening. But I hate what that sacrifice symbolizes for her and my family.

June 7, 2011

Twitter Design Challenge: Dog

So my last twitter design concept was “breakdancing robot dog.”

The concept was a little cluttered, and I had no immediate thoughts, but I started sketching and ended up with 3 pages, all of them of dogs or robots. Or dog robots.

Based on one of the drawings on Page 3, I made my robot dog. As you can tell, I was thinking about k-9 from Doctor Who.

But I still struggled with the break dancing aspect. I thought of trying to make .gif where the tail moved, but I don’t actually know how to make a gif. And, although this would be a fun project to learn, and it still may be one in the future, I don’t have time today.

So, in an effort to make the dog a break dancing accessory, rather than a breakdancer, I posterized an image of a boom box and stuck it on his side like a control panel. I wasn’t fond of it. The style of the boom box vs. the style of the dog clashed and annoyed me.

I used the pen tool to imitate the basic shapes of the original boom box, and came out with a dob/boom box combo that I felt clashed less.

Overall, I liked the plain old dog better myself, but the last dog with boom box was the most fitting with the original concept. If this was actually a client of mine, I would encourage them to lose the “break-dancing” aspect of their concept, since movement is extremely hard to intone in a logo.

May 23, 2011

Twitter Tells Me: Bulk Food Edition

mr_bithead wanted to hear “about things in your area that you like. Favourite shops, salon, grocery store, restaurants, and why!”

I live in Hawthorne, CA, a city for which being named after a famous literary figure has not been an educational boon. In other words, it’s a little ghetto. But, unlike most of the ghetto’s in the world, this one is 6 miles from the beach. I’ll take it!

Anyway, most of the shops and restaurants I like are in the surrounding cities, namely Manhattan Beach, Hermosa Beach, Torrance and El Segundo. Major exceptions to this rule are local chains The Chicken Maison and El Pollo Inca. The former is healthy and delicious Mediterranean food with a little bit of south bay style. The latter is cheap, fast, and loud Peruvian food to die for. Both places require a visit any time you’re in the area.

Other, more popular eateries, in the better parts of town are:

Uncle Bill’s Pancake House - everything there is good.
El Tarasco -not the best I’ve had, but the South Bay seems to have trouble producing good Mexican food, and this stuff is the top of the heap so far.
Mama D’s - cheap, fast, simple Italian food with good service and a cozy atmosphere.
Rinaldi’s – Simple, affordable, delicious, meat-packed sub sandwiches.

We recently got a Sprouts Farmers Market in Redondo Beach, which I am super happy about. Any hippie native to Southern California will remember Wild Oats markets from the early 1990′s. Sadly, they folded in the mid to late nineties, but their spirit has lived on in a chain called Henry’s, that I used to shop at when I lived in Orange County. Now, Wild Oats/Henry’s clones are popping up all over Los Angeles in the form of Spouts. Unlike my least favorite store ever, a store I call the Whore Foods, Sprouts has an excellent vibe and affordable, natural foods in an astonishing variety. They also have the one thing that every hippie child remembers so fondly: the bulk food buckets!

Unfortunately, I have yet to discover is a good sushi place. The only one I’ve been recommended was way too pretentious and expensive for me.

Thenoid13 asked about “ice cream melts in your trunk when you lock your keys in you car.”

Yes it does.

May 14, 2011

Twitter Tells Me: Planes and Clothes

Tuttle88 asks: why is my plane running late. That’s all I want to know

A lot of people don’t know this, but planes suffer from workplace stress just like anybody else. Every single day, dragged out of the hanger, or across the tarmac after a bitterly cold night spent racing along the clouds across Serbia, Russia, the Arctic and Canada, only to be stuffed with people, germs and crying babies and flown back across the planet over and over with no respite can make a plane want to blow a gasket. So sometimes they do. And then you have to wait for another plane to take your original plane’s place. Because everybody knows you can’t fly with a broken gasket.

Then ApparentlyMary asked for “more ‘what you wore’ stuff!”

Since I’m at work, I don’t have access to a camera, but I have been contemplating restarting the What I Wore section of the blog. Especially since the weather is changing so my wardrobe is changing to match that.

Anyway, I just was looking through flickr and found a set I don’t think I put up before, so here for your viewing pleasure, is the lost outfit post. As a bonus, you can totally see some of our totally messy house in the background for these

Maroon shirt: Target
Green long sleeved v-neck: The Gap
Blue pinstripe skirt: Target
Maroon underskirt: 2nd Tibetan Shop in Old Town Pasadena
Socks: Patagonia
Shoes: PF Flyers
Necklaces: Handmade by me
Ring: Kohls
Batman Watch: Christmas Gift

May 14, 2011

Twitter Tells Me: Cable TV

@thenoid13 asked about “the undeniable decline of cable TV”

Was Cable TV ever good? I mean, really? Was any TV ever good in comparison to the undeniable glory of real life? Television was created for bored middle class breeders to have something to do between the time the kids went to sleep and the time they went to sleep… something that wouldn’t make more hungry brats to put to sleep every night.

Now television is the thing we’re doing before we have to go to work, before we gorge ourselves on more processed food and the thing we fall asleep in front of while our bodies put on unnecessary weight and develop blood sugar imbalances beneath us.

Far be it for me to point fingers at fatties, but TV is keeping us from real living. Not that other forms of entertainment don’t, just that TV has reached a glorious excess that can not sustain it’s own mass. Of course cable especially is crap, it went from 10 extra channels to 30 to 300 in only a couple of decades. Just like our own ever expanding waste-lines, a lot of filler goes into creating that kind of volume. And this kind of filler doesn’t even taste good the first time.