lolgaxe....Follow

Are you still strutting around with your Gaxe in one hand and beer in the other? You old fart...

Just got my new gaming rig up and running and was cleaning up my bookmarks when I saw the good old mead hall link. Wasn't expecting to see any familiar names though. So how's life been treating you?



Edit:

What happen to the boobs & beer?

Edited, May 13th 2009 2:54am by Kyoshindi

But the bottle is a novelty beer bottle, so its kind of the same thing.





Edited, May 13th 2009 3:38am by lolgaxe

i was really impressed with it. tight plot, decent acting, tons of action (and "ISN'T SPACE COOL!?" action to boot), fan service of all varieties. the only thing it could have improved on in my eyes is having more murder and more nudity, but i always say that. and i always mean it.

I'm told that's recorded in Ireland. Could be getting it mixed up though.

And kyo, you don't remember me??

You proved my existance to this board, when I couldn't post pictures yet...

Now do me!


Welcome back Kyo.

mmm... boobs 'n beer... Now I feel at home.



I'm still trying to find time to go see it. I'm thinking I will like it a lot.



I haven't forgotten you. My neck still hurts on cold mornings from all the rating whiplash I had back then. Looks like all your hard payed off though, looks like I'm still Guruing it up.

Strangely enough I have a growing desire to look up some Megan Fox...


So how's the game going these days. Almost curious to track down Kyo and drop in for a min. Almost...

New Avatar GO!

Dont you want to say hi to new members of the mead hall

Wish i posted enough to be considered a member

 
>>>--------> 

If I tried that in the Waterfront (student union bar at KCL), I'd get punched in the face. But, yeah, I otherwise approve of this message.

In Ireland, people hoard their beer with such rigor that if I was to try that I'd make at least 6 enemies for life.

That's so awesome, but so terrible at the same time XD

if you're looking for self-indulgence and reminiscences by some guy you've never met about a weird, unsavory place he went to because he didn't know better, please read on.



reading over that again, i wonder if i'm being clear about what i did in chicago. um... i'm not a very physically intimidating person. i've thrown a few punches in my time, but i have a feeling that (degenerate gamers though you may all be) if i were to come up to any of you and be like "do XXX for me," (with the implicit threat of violence if you failed to comply) you'd be like "lol no".

i rather meant that (many of) the people at my school were rich, pretentious, sheltered idiots with no moral/social/intellectual integrity whatsoever, so when i'd go up to them and commit the faux pas of telling them to buy me a beer they would be so confused by the disruption in their life that they'd actually do it. "buy him a beer? what? ok..." half the time i wouldn't even talk to the buyer, and when i looked to see if they gave a sh*t, i always found that they didn't. they don't care. for one, dropping $3-$5 on a beer isn't sh*t to them. and more importantly, the people in my MA program, the philosophy department, and really the student body as a whole (that i met) predominantly seemed to view me as some sort of strange, foreign animal that never slept, made fun of everyone to their faces for seemingly no reason, had crazy hair and said sh*t that didn't make sense. the professors often sort of liked me because i did very well in class, but most of them looked at me like i was strange/crazy.

now, i'm not some asperger's creepy gamer guy. i'm pretty normal, if perhaps a bit eccentric. regardless, my point in all that self-indulgence/reminiscence is that the people there were so weirded out by me that i could have said "let me take a sh*t in your bed" and they wouldn't have been much more surprised than from "buy me a beer" or anything i said because i was weird (and a jerk). so some people were intimidated that i would belittle them publicly, but the vast majority were just so thrown by the fact that they had entered WEIRD LAND and it was talking to them that they'd just buy the beer.

stupid fucks. where i'm from it'd be like, "buy me a beer," "who the fuck are you?" (interaction ends) unless you're like hitting on someone or something. "oh, pahn, you're from the streets?" no, i mean i'm from not crazy pseudo-intellectual nonsense world where people study literal nonsense like lacan and are afraid that some guy from hartford might call them an idiot or whatever drives those fucking crazy people. seriously, i don't have anywhere near the expressive capability it would require to illustrate how weird "high academia" is if you've never seen it and you live a remotely normal life. also, if you want to read some sh*t, find some transcripts of lacan talking about psychoanalysis. that sh*t doesn't make sense. i don't mean it's heavily technical, or requires tons of background knowledge. i mean if you went sentence by sentence and logically mapped out the words, you would be unable to discern what the fuck the guy was trying to say. it's gibberish! it's not like "bad writing", or "wrong". if you met someone on the street that said sh*t like this guy, you'd run the fuck away because some crazy guy is like "you heard about The Real? see it's abstractions and sh*t, you know what i'm saying?" "man, i'm just trying to walk down this street, don't fucking kill me." sh*t is crazy! what i'm saying is these fucking lunatics owed me those beers.

tl;dr: i didn't physically intimidate people into buying me beer. rather, people at a certain rich school in the slums of chicago are fucking weird, so much so that if you insult them to their face, they buy you beer.

(just read some of this sh*t. you don't understand it, do you? you might think you're not smart enough, or not well-read enough. try this "garble garble balssalsabablagghblagh." are you smart enough for that? because it means the same thing as that sh*t. and if god forbid you find someone talking about lacan to begin with, and they *actually make sense*, it's because *they're making sh*t up*!! i could tell you i meant "life is meaningless" when i wrote "garble garble", but i didn't; i meant "garble garble". it's called nonsense. it's what babies do before they learn how to talk. people pay 50k/year to learn this sh*t. what the fuck??)

---

p.s. if you're still reading this absurd post, perhaps you'll forgive a little more self-indulgence. this is an ffxi related story about my time at chicago, so i want to relate it. i lived in a dorm (on the "smoking floor", stay in school kids, don't smoke), which had a common room with internet access. i believe you had to pay for internet in your room, and if you've learned nothing else about me from this post, perhaps you've learned that i'm averse to paying for sh*t. i started in chicago right around the time i started ffxi, so i would regularly go to this large common room to level grind in the fast-paced, thrill a minute XP grind days of 2004. i was also in a fairly intensive MA program (at a school where all the classes were inherently somewhat intensive because of their strange "quarter system" as opposed to the more common semester system), taking philosophy and linguistics classes.

one day well into the year, someone from my MA program passed me by and noticed me playing ffxi. she and i had never talked (or if we had, i didn't remember it...), but we recognized each other because our program was somewhat small and there were lots of sort of group events, many of which included free beer so i was in attendance. she approached me at my table or couch or whatever and said:

<woman> "e---, i always see you at that laptop playing that game, but i never see you doing any work. i'm barely staying above water with all this work, but you seem to do pretty well in class. how the hell do you do it?"
<e---> (me) "i am a genius."

that was one of my proudest moments. addendum, i'm not really a genius, i just don't sleep so i have more time than most people.

Edited, May 17th 2009 10:09am by milich

Even for psychoanalysis that's a load of rubbish.

close, only 3 letters wrong.

what a long post i made. yikes.

close enough.

This. Do it. Now.



I'll send you beer.

heh;;. my time at chicago was fun in a way, if self-destructive. hmmm... anecdotes that i could include in such a movie would be...

...being restrained by 4-5 people at a party for incoming students in our program where one of the kids mentioned to me that the holocaust didn't happen, and then when i inquired further said "if it DID happen, it was surely the greatest aesthetic event of the 20th century" (is my point about the unsavory nature of academics getting through yet:)?). i remember going to the party, i remember killing most of their hard liquor, i remember that pretentious guy praising the holocaust, then the next thing i remember is 4 people yelling at me, "it's okay evan! we know the holocaust happened! don't worry about it!" i wonder if i hit that guy.

...at one of our "pub nights" (every thursday or friday--i forget which--our program would buy us a bunch of beer, and then i would wander from person to person telling them to buy me more beer), i was sitting at a large table with people at my program. i was sort of staring off into space kind of dazed (i was drunk), while they were playing spin the bottle (!). at one point, some girl spun the bottle and it landed facing me. they startled me from my reverie and alerted me of what was happening, and she walked over to me and kissed me. "now you have to spin the bottle, evan!" so, i took the bottle, and placed it carefully on the table so it would be pointing at the same girl who had just kissed me (i hoped that would be a bit creepy). "no! you have to spin it!" so, i took the bottle and threw it at someone's glass, which tumbled over and got beer everywhere. there was some commotion and confusion, so i took someone else's beer bottle and threw it at another person's glass. after that, i was escorted away from the table.

...being in bed with some girl at 3am when her boyfriend called and bugged out about me being there. i asked for the phone, and tried to calmly defuse the situation (i didn't care where i slept; we just happened to end up at her apartment on a particularly boisterous night). this story ends with me wandering around the slums of south chicago drunk for awhile, then getting a ride home from a police officer. incidentally, i lost over $200 of that boyfriend's money (given to the aforementioned girl for some reason) in a casino in indiana, since the girlfriend was a gambling addict who would occasionally skip class to go gambling with me. the boyfriend was a cool guy actually. as a last comment on that couple, the girlfriend allowed for one of my favorite moments in my life, in which i was drunk at a bar playing pool against her, and she slowly flashed me to distract me from sinking the 8-ball. this provided a snapshot of a) beautiful woman flashing someone, b) man winning game of pool with lit cigarette in mouth while drunk. i like it seedy.

...being in class with a crazy professor who shouted at the top of his lungs for no reason, looking around at my dutifully attentive classmates and laughing, thinking "what the fuck is wrong with you people?"

i could come up with more, but as you can see most of my stories are less punchline payoff and more weird scenario (like the battle between my floormates and me after my 3am guitar playing caused papers to be posted around the dorm about the noise policy in our rental agreement). some of them are less self-indulgent and more "academics are fucking psychopaths," like how my thesis advisor showed up to every class in a certain course taught by one of his colleagues and heckled, aggressively.

my time there wasn't really that interesting. i can see how the movie could be funny though, because it's always funny to watch people mistreat each other.

That, and you can always cut out the pointless filler.

That sounds like just another day in the life of an Irishman.

Milich "Pahn" "Evan" Galka the third, ESQ:

I pronounce you a member of the Honorary Irish Brigade!

Oh yes, the Irishness shows. You're blessed with the Dark hair, Pale skin and large head the rest of us have.

I wish my drinking stories were more interesting, they just seem to send up with me either 1) Getting naked, 2) Getting punched or 3) Getting lucky.

Ah well.

Thought Irish had red hair, not red eyes. YOUS DA DEBIL.