Dwarf Fortress

The Internet's been afire for a few months about a game. I found out about it over at the Angry Cunts but it's been news at Something Awful and Penny Arcade for a while. And it's Dwarf Fortress.
Imagine a game that's equal parts the Sims, Dungeon Master and Nethack. And a lot of something else. Then you've got Dwarf Fortress. The premise is you're trying to establish an outpost for a Dwarven kingdom in the side of this cliff. To begin with your main adversaries are scarcity and the weather. As things develop the inhabitants of the earth rise against you from within your stronghold and from outside come assailants trying to steal your wealth. All the while you have to keep your dwarves happy, fed, drunk and healthy. It's fucken fun, and although the game is only in 'alpha' it's honestly the best thing I've played in a long, long time.

Modern Etiquette

Today on Modern Etiquette we discuss the following problem, which I'm sure all of you have faced at least once in the past year or so. If you have to be in the front yard at four in the morning in only your underwear and someone else walks by, do you:
a) Run inside?
b) Ignore them completely and go about 'whatever' you were doing?
c) Engage them in conversation?
As always our expert panel will be discussing these possibilities with any others that may occur to us.

INSOMNIA

I can't fucken sleep, my eyes are filled with this greasy crap, no matter what I drink it makes me fart, I've got this murder-class headache and on top of it all I can't fucken sleep.
I can't fucken sleep. There's still people movin around out there. Swearin and workin and fucken and shittin. Rollin the world around on the backs of their legs. If they'd hold it still for a minute but I can't fucken sleep.
I can't fucken sleep. It's the chemicals fighting the chemicals fighting the chemicals fighting my stupid stubborn fucken brain. I might miss out on something if I lie down for a while but you know I can't fucken sleep.

Today at work I asked one of the fill-in girls what she was studying. They looked like flash cards of some sort, laminated with brightly coloured writing.
Turns out they were the promises of God from the Bible or some such nonsense. I was speechless for a few seconds, mumbled that my grandfather had been a preacher and I'd had a fairly religious upbringing, which is true enough. I went to Sunday School every week until Mum's church banned gambling.
Anyway we continued working, had breaks, the usual stuff. As I'm leaving she pipes up from behind the Espresso machine 'Michael? Would you like to come to church?'
Yeah, I just sorta sheepishly said no, that's not my thing, then hurried the hell out of there. Even forgot to get this week's street press on my way out. Fucken hell. This is what I get for being vaguely accommodating to people.

Denied!

My plan was an utter failure! My public nudity only attracted more customers to the store, which meant I had to work harder and now I'm very very tired. Goddamnit!

Sleep's a bastard

Sleep must have overheard me talking crap. Now Sleep's off somewhere else and I'm lying in my bed waiting and wondering what's goin on. Why am I always pissing off vaguely anthropomorphised concepts? Is it them or me?

Yeah so Nick Cave's got himself a new band, which is made up of the old one, and you know they actually sound decent. Pity he's forgotten how to write lyrics. How many songs does he have to make where he's just listing shit off before he gets bored with it?

Goddamnit. Today's been a fight, between me and Sleep. Sleep started off winning and me firmly under its control. If you'd seen the fight in its opening stages you would have thought Sleep was going with the early knockout and I was done. But then I fought back, not as well as I would have hoped but better than I've managed some days. Once I got a lead I kept it by doing all manner of things, like drinking coffee, sitting still and staring, that sort of thing, conserving my energy to stave off Sleep. But then the homework started and Sleep starting regaining on me. Now, now I feel I've lost. Sleep's coming and my defeat is immanent. But you know, maybe that's not such a bad thing.

I feel so hung over. I dunno what was wrong with that beer I drank last night, but all today I've felt like a container of sickness. Although I am feeling better now. When I need to go to bed so I can get up to go to work tomorrow. Fuck.

Plan of ACTION

Work tomorrow. Eleven goddamn hours of it. I'm probably going to start the shift with some screaming at the furniture, followed by trying to inspire the staff with some inspirational inspiring. Once they're completely confused I'll open the store and go hide out back for five hours. I got new batteries for my mp3 player so I won't be able to hear any yells for help or the bell ringing. Does playing the thing louder make the batteries run down faster? It seems like it should.
After that's done I'll stride about the street outside the store wearing nothing but an apron and demanding money from the people walking by. If I manage to avoid being arrested I'll close the store about four hours early and spend the rest of the afternoon sitting by the door and telling people that we're closed.

What's goin on?

I've been fighting wars on several fronts, but the Martians are fallin back and we got this one won if we don't let our apathy beat us yet again. Spirit Street's littered with all sortsa shit. We got Martian bits all over the place. The thing about fighting aliens is you don't know what's genitals and what's forehead. That and it's all poisonous to the local bacteria so it doesn't rot. So basically we've got alien dongs all over the place. At least I think that's what they are. I'm not touching them and I don't wanna find out.

How is babby formed?

It's about time I posted here again. I am the King of Awesome and my subjects deserve hearing from their Lord. Have some awesome.

That right there is awesome. His voice suits that so hard.

I am the King of Awesome and you are all my subjects. Orders forthcoming. Prepare yourselves.