Tuesday 1 February 2011

The Year of the Rabbit

Oh my! Well, it's been a busy winter ... not only for me, but for everyone, as far as I can tell. The economic climate grows increasingly more unreasonable, made worse with our Unholy Marriage of Liars and Thieves ... or "Coalition government," as they choose to call themselves, taking everyone's cash, School has resumed for most-if-not-all of you, which is no doubt causing you endless bewizzlement, and Egypt is rioting and raving and ranting, which, if you're like me and enjoy the idea of a Letter-R based revolution*, is REALLY cool.

*Big Bird: 'Today's coup is sponsered by the Letter "R."

Now, I seem to remember having an awful lot to write about ... hrmm ... let's see what I can remember: (Oh, and I'm going to have my subtitles as quotes-that-I-didn't-actually-say today, just to shake things up)

"I watched a Football game!"
Nope, I assure you ... it happened. No-one is more surprised than me. The MOST surprising thing about it was ... wait for it ... you're not going to believe it ...
I actually enjoyed it.
I know, I know ... who would've thought that being in a bar full of angry geordies shouting at Greek Sports Television would've actually been fun.
A Certain Newcastle-Inhabitant That I Know dragged me through his city-of-abode, desperately seeking somewhere to watch the Newcastle-Verses-Sunderland game. (Note for the UnEducated Brothers, or NUEB: Newcastle and Sunderland are mortal enemies whose mutual hatred stems back to the English Civil War, where both would mercilessly brutalise one-another for, in-all-honesty, trivial reasons. [Rather like today, judging by Sunderland's antics, ho ho ho.])
All the Sports channels, in their infinite-wisdom, chose not to broadcast the game, so those few bars and pubs that were hosting the athletic extravaganza were packed to the proverbial bursting point. It seemed like all of Newcastle was out on the streets, searching for a place to fufill their televisual pedaglobular desires. One bar was actually letting people in is SHIFTS. Eventually, we found a smaller venue (the Duke of Wellington, as I've been reminded,) which didn't require us to stand on furnature to see.
On some primal level, cheering along with the crowd really got me going ... the feeling of being one with a group of people (even if my "posh" accent did draw the odd funny look,) is really quite astonishing.
Anyway, Newcastle were robbed (ROBBED!) of the game by a rogue goal in extra time. (Another NUEB: This extra time seemed rather undeserved, and, combined with the referee seemingly allowing Sunderland [Or, "The Mackems," as an angry Geordie might call them] to get away with murder, gave the resulting tie a very bitter taste for the "Magpies" as the Newcastle team are known.)
What charming fun!

"OH MY GOD ... every game from now on will be a DISSAPOINTMENT."
What game could possibly invoke such a strong reaction? Well ... as those that know me and my tendancy to over-exaggerate, pretty much any game, but, in this instance, Red Dead Redemption, Rock Star's sort-of-is-GTA-but-it-isn't Wild West Epic.
Note: When I say "Epic," I don't mean the Internet's "woah thats epic!!!!!111one," I mean Epic in the classic "Long, Winding Moral Tale." I mean ... honestly, if it wasn't portrayed in the most unaccepted-yet widespread artistic medium the world currently possesses, this game would be up their with all the Cowboy Greats. If it was a film, it'd make Clint Eastwood cry.

Here's my mental progression with the game:
Beginning: Wow! This is like GTA but with horses! AND no voratious nagging cousins on the phone! What refreshing fun!
Middle: This is great! I'm getting to go through all the cliches and tropes of the Western, and yet it doesn't feel stilted or done-before ... plus, it hasn't got the barely-a-plotline-plotline of a GTA game! This is GREAT!
End: OH. MY. GOD ... did they just ... but it was ... and I just ... o.o ... *Mind is Blown.*

I'd go into further depth ... but ... I don't need to. It won Game of the Year for a reason.
If you don't have it already, go get it. Like ... NOW.

"Hey, Hairy Arms aren't so Bad!"
Err ... the least said about this one, the better ... let's move on.

"That'll be Twenty Pounds Please, Ma'am!"
Yep ... adding to the unbelievablity of this post, I am (sort-of) employed! Well ... I'm not being payed ... but, still! I'm doing work!
Pumping petrol is the name of the game, though I don't get an awesome hat and bow-tie. I've also learned how to: Fill Oil, Inflate Tires, Change Tires, Cut Someone's Break Lines and Work a Till! Important life and vocational skills!
It's also something I've been enjoying in an odd way ... now, that might sound odd, me being the underachieving sloth that I am, but helping the local women fill up their tanks is rewarding in its own way. *Nod nod*

That's all I can think of for now ... if I come up with anything else, you'll (possibly) be the first to know!

Lots of Love/Loathing,
Rude Rabbit Esq.

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