Please save me: my children are trying to kill me.
Monday, September 8, 2008
Message to my New Readers from the Blink 182 Forums Pages
Welcome! I won't be mad if you refer all your friends here.
Thursday, September 4, 2008
Thirteen Things You Can Do With Google CHROME GOOGLE CHROME
- GOOGLE CHROME CURES CANCER!
- GOOGLE CHROME FINDS AND REPLACES THIRD NIPPLES!
- GOOGLE CHROME DISTRACTS LIBERALS SO THE GOP CAN NUKE KANSAS!
- GOOGLE CHROME WILL HELP YOU TRAVEL IN TIME!
- GOOGLE CHROME HELPS YOU GROW A THICKER, RICHER HEAD OF HAIR!
- GOOGLE CHROME EXPLAINS ORIGIN OF UNIVERSE IN COOL DR. SEUSS STYLE RAP!
- GOOGLE CHROME LOWERS GAS PRICES!
- GOOGLE CHROME MAKES YOU TALK LIKE SEAN CONNERY!
- GOOGLE CHROME PROTECTS TRAILERS FROM TORNADOES!
- GOOGLE CHROME MAKES MS VISTA WORK!
- GOOGLE CHROME MAKES GOOGLE CHROME WORK AS WELL AS GOOGLE CHROME!
- GOOGLE CHROME WILL ABSORB ALL THE OTHER PROGRAMS ON YOUR COMPUTER AND TURN THEM INTO GOOGLE CHROME ADD-ONS!
- GOOGLE CHROME GOOGLE CHROME GOOGLE CHROME GOOGLE CHROME!
Please save me: my children are trying to kill me.
Tuesday, September 2, 2008
In My Defense, I Did Conquer Tzichlitan With my Ninja Tanks. . .
A lot of people think video games are the latest agent of our progeny's demise and I am one of them. I can't think of a more ridiculous and possibly sinister leading indicator of imminent doom than kids who won't clean their room or feed their dog but never forget to flush the toilet or feed their goldfish on Sims. It scares the bejesus out of me and I strive to threaten my children with uninterrupted painful flogging if they spend more than 18 minutes a day playing video games.
I've also made some disparaging comments about some of the retired people I know who spend hours and hours playing video games. Bingo and solitary have been usurped by Zelda and online solitary.
To all of this I have thrown up my hands and shaken a sage and surly finger at all involved, saying they are squandering the precious few moments they have here on this little ball of dirt. Which makes me a pathetic a sad old hypocrite.
At about 1:30 in the afternoon this Saturday, I started playing a game. I just wanted to see what it was like. I'd seen the Roon slackjawed and dazed, playing this game for three hours at a stretch, which is pretty good even for him, and I wondered what was so compelling.
The game is called Civilizations/Revolution. The graphics are average. The length of gameplay is only a couple of hours. There are no car incendiary crashes or crimson head-shots. In the game, you choose to start a civilization, say the Roman Empire, from scratch and endeavor to take them from caveman to Cosmonaut ahead of all the other empires in the game. It. Is. Awesome.
I started just after lunch and a few minutes later, [My Attorney] called and asked what I fed the boys.
"Hot dogs."
"For dinner?"
"Dinner? No I just gave them hot dogs just now."
"Do you have any idea what time it is?"
"What? Uh, three?"
"It's eleven o'clock."
I had been playing this game for ten hours. TEN HOURS. I don't do anything for ten hours. I don't even sleep for ten hours. I looked around at my house, empty and dark, the dog crouched by the door with his legs crossed, the boys passed out on the couch under a protective blanket of spent Cheetos bags. I realized I was dehydrated, I was starving, and I'd been holding it for something like three hours straight because, dude, I needed to get the people of Pima to build one more Galleon so I could make a fleet and sink the new ships from Bismark, my enemy to the north.
I have never been so into a game in my life. Again, you have to understand, the graphics are sub par. But the manipulation of a tiny universe is brilliant! And it affects your world view. We started watching a movie which showed the 18th century workers of a dying factory and I instantly realised that if only there were more of them, that country could upgrade to the industrial era so, hey, it teaches history.
Late the next day the family wanted again to watch a movie and I was playing the game, my world dominating Egyptian empire having just discovered the Internet and on the brink of colonizing Alpha Centauri when the family G politely asked me to turn. Off. The. Game. I reacted ungraciously (I'm being diplomatic here) and my son started laughing. "Geeze, dad, you're acting just like me. You're addicted, dude!"
I'm so scared. I have two simultaneous deadlines, a huge complictaed ceremony, Bad Movie Night, and god knows what else due in the next two weeks but I am terrified that what's gonna happen is [My Attorney] is going to come home and find the kids emaciated and me surrounded by a nest of laundry and cold pizza looking like Uncle Fester and mumbling to myself: "I gotta research steam power. I got to build more legions. I got to get a submarine . . ."
I've also made some disparaging comments about some of the retired people I know who spend hours and hours playing video games. Bingo and solitary have been usurped by Zelda and online solitary.
To all of this I have thrown up my hands and shaken a sage and surly finger at all involved, saying they are squandering the precious few moments they have here on this little ball of dirt. Which makes me a pathetic a sad old hypocrite.
At about 1:30 in the afternoon this Saturday, I started playing a game. I just wanted to see what it was like. I'd seen the Roon slackjawed and dazed, playing this game for three hours at a stretch, which is pretty good even for him, and I wondered what was so compelling.
The game is called Civilizations/Revolution. The graphics are average. The length of gameplay is only a couple of hours. There are no car incendiary crashes or crimson head-shots. In the game, you choose to start a civilization, say the Roman Empire, from scratch and endeavor to take them from caveman to Cosmonaut ahead of all the other empires in the game. It. Is. Awesome.
I started just after lunch and a few minutes later, [My Attorney] called and asked what I fed the boys.
"Hot dogs."
"For dinner?"
"Dinner? No I just gave them hot dogs just now."
"Do you have any idea what time it is?"
"What? Uh, three?"
"It's eleven o'clock."
I had been playing this game for ten hours. TEN HOURS. I don't do anything for ten hours. I don't even sleep for ten hours. I looked around at my house, empty and dark, the dog crouched by the door with his legs crossed, the boys passed out on the couch under a protective blanket of spent Cheetos bags. I realized I was dehydrated, I was starving, and I'd been holding it for something like three hours straight because, dude, I needed to get the people of Pima to build one more Galleon so I could make a fleet and sink the new ships from Bismark, my enemy to the north.
I have never been so into a game in my life. Again, you have to understand, the graphics are sub par. But the manipulation of a tiny universe is brilliant! And it affects your world view. We started watching a movie which showed the 18th century workers of a dying factory and I instantly realised that if only there were more of them, that country could upgrade to the industrial era so, hey, it teaches history.
Late the next day the family wanted again to watch a movie and I was playing the game, my world dominating Egyptian empire having just discovered the Internet and on the brink of colonizing Alpha Centauri when the family G politely asked me to turn. Off. The. Game. I reacted ungraciously (I'm being diplomatic here) and my son started laughing. "Geeze, dad, you're acting just like me. You're addicted, dude!"
I'm so scared. I have two simultaneous deadlines, a huge complictaed ceremony, Bad Movie Night, and god knows what else due in the next two weeks but I am terrified that what's gonna happen is [My Attorney] is going to come home and find the kids emaciated and me surrounded by a nest of laundry and cold pizza looking like Uncle Fester and mumbling to myself: "I gotta research steam power. I got to build more legions. I got to get a submarine . . ."
Please save me: my children are trying to kill me.
Message to my new readers from [the nest] and Expressive Parents
Howdy and welcome! In case you're wondering, the title of my blog, "Death By Children," refers to the fact that parenting is killing me and my kids are in on it. Proactively.
I won't in the least bit be offended if you email every single person in your contacts list and demand that they subscribe to Death By Children instantly. They really should show the same kind of class and good taste you have displayed in choosing to subscribe to my humble scribblage.
Explore the morgue! Click on the "more . . ." links under the Exhumed heading there on the left. Enjoy!
I won't in the least bit be offended if you email every single person in your contacts list and demand that they subscribe to Death By Children instantly. They really should show the same kind of class and good taste you have displayed in choosing to subscribe to my humble scribblage.
Explore the morgue! Click on the "more . . ." links under the Exhumed heading there on the left. Enjoy!
Please save me: my children are trying to kill me.
Monday, September 1, 2008
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