Many months have passed since I donned the angry jerk hat and unleashed a violent tornado of cynicism and mirth into the unholy void of teh interwebzz. My time has come, the stars have aligned, the prophets have spoken truth. We junket.
The main reason for my blog neglect has been my recent employment at Microsoft/Bungie, where I've been lucky enough to get a contract position working on a huge, big deal, more important than "the children" and remembering 9/11 combined, title for the Xbox 360 that is just about to come out. I'm not going to say much about it, as I'm under contract to keep my flappers tight until it ships, and I'm pretty sure Microsoft has all manner of goons and snipers out there to bring the hammer down on squealers. I can't imagine a more potent humiliation than getting my knees broken by that stupid fucking Windows butterfly mascot. I can just see the dark, underground lair, where Bill Gates sits on is throne of puppy skulls, the banners of NetScape, PlayStation, and other crushed enemies ruthlessly displayed about his court. A hunched messenger with a Windows NT logo branded into his filthy forehead hobbles in and bows. Lord Gates beckons him to rise and speak. Keeping his head to the floor, he produces a scroll of Microsoft contractors that have violated their NDAs and whispers "My Lord, the serfs have been talking. We fear spies in the ranks..." Lord Gates brings a jeweled hand to his chin and slumps to one side of his throne, keeping his unmoving eyes on his faithful, disgusting, wretch of a servant. He lifts one hand, twitches his fingers away and says "Be gone, you know what to do". The cripple rises silent, turns, and begins his limped exit out of the great hall.
The following day I am found dead in my apartment, my tongue is cut out and nailed to my chest, and my throat is slashed so wide that half my neck looks like pasta. There is no sign of struggle or entry to the building. The only evidence is a solitary button from a Microsoft keyboard bearing the windows logo, jammed into the socket that once housed my right eye.
So, while I can't divulge any details until the game is out, I can give a hint and say it involves the most disgusting beverage ever to be released on humanity since Cod Liver Oil. That's right, Mountain Dew Gamer Fuel. Holy shit. Stay far far away from that acid shit gasoline nightmare. We had a few complimentary cases delivered to the office a few weeks back, and when my preferred "I'm an adult with responsibilities and I don't like sweet things" Talking Rain beverages were out, I figured what the hell, they can't be too bad. Wrong. Wrong fucking dead wrong. You could call that shit the key to Pandora's box, because if you poured it out on the ground it would burrow a hole straight to hell, unleashing myriad demons upon the world to feast forever on our suffering, eating our groins and drinking our wails of anguish. I could feel my teeth dissolving the second it hit my mouth. Yes, I drank my own teeth. Garbage.
So I'm on tour as I write this. Not going to do the tour blog just yet since we're not quite done. We're hanging out in San Diego with a few days off, thanks to our gracious host and good friend Dan. Dan is vegan, and hence we've adopted his diet during our stay with him. While I eat meat and dairy, I love vegan food and have nothing against it. However, my guts are not in agreement with my pallet, and I've been farting and shitting like a broken locomotive for the last three days. I imagine a raging wolverine in my body, clawing through the veggies and soy protein ferociously looking for a morsel of flesh, hoping beyond hope that a bug fell into my soy-rizo taco. Sorry wolverine. I promise I'll deliver on some In n' Out as soon as the delicious opportunity presents itself. For now, we roll with it and give the large intestine some exercize, which I guess is a good thing.
Speaking of band life, we just released a new album called Navigating the Bronze. Alternative Tentacles put it out again. We're all pretty happy with it. If you want to hear it or order it click away. It's our 5th full length record, which is kind of weird. We've been a band for almost a decade. I can't think of many other things I've done for that long on purpose.
At home, Maria, Max and I moved into a new apartment on capitol hill, right next to a woman who has no shame in orgasming loudly into the summer night. "ATTENTION WORLD! I'M GETTING LAAAAAAAAAAID!!!!!" It's way smaller than our last place but we like it a lot more. We're closer to tons of bars and grocery stores, uber convenience. The best part is that we have hard wood floors and a nice new slick couch with really smooth material. This means that Max has absolutely no grip when he's running around the apartment going nuts. It never gets old, seeing his little feet scurry against the floor for half a second before he actually moves. The best is when he tries to ambush you while sitting on the couch. He jumps up to attack but can't get a solid grip on the material. You look over and instead of getting a vicious kitty paw to the face, you see him earnestly trying to hold on as he slowly falls back onto the floor, his claws leaving an ineffective trail along the couch arm as he looks at you in utter, crushing defeat. Kitteh = self pwned.
Ok, it's go time now. I'm going to try harder to update this thing more often. It's way cheaper than a psychiatrist. I've seen a slew of movies that must be torn to shreds, this tour will require a brief dissection, and I have chapters upon chapters of life working at Microsoft that sadly must wait until the world gets their own opportunity to 'finish the fight'.