Rage Essence #3

Rage essence is back, but before I narrate today's scenario I need to make everyone aware of  The Gamer's Amendment to Murphy's Law.

This amendment is as follows:

Whatever that is inevitably going to go wrong, will go wrong at a time:

1. When it is to be most inconvenient 
2. When it is to be most unexpected
3. When it is to be most disastrous
4. When it will cause the most lulz at the expense of the victim
5. When all of, or a combination of the above conditions is met

To see how this law works in action, I shall use myself as an example.

During the era of my life when I played 1v1 in Starcraft 2, very frequently just prior to my complete curbstomping of my opponent, my internet will decide to conveniently (for the other player) commit hara-kiri for shits and giggles, leading to me losing. 

It was so bad, that it got to the point where I would play a game to the point of winning, and then just shutdown my computer myself instead.

A more extreme example not using games is about a month ago, when just as I was loading up BulletStorm, my harddrive decided it had burned all of its life and would implode, not doubt in a misguided attempt to turn into a black hole and murder the hell out of me. Although I came out with my life, I was left computerless for nearly a week.

The withdrawal took quite a heavy toll on my cognitive functions.

For the sake of this article, I will refer to this law and amendment as Murphy's Faggotry.

On with the rage.

Now, Starcraft is a very old game, and like most old games running on today's computers, it often experiences some "issues"

By issues of course, I am referring to Starcraft's brilliant bit of programming that causes it to invert all the colors on the screen half way through a game.

It's pretty damn annoying really, since it basically makes it impossible to continue playing and forces you to take a loss.

A perfectly good example of Murphy's Faggotry.

The thing with Murphy's Faggotry is that gamers have generally gotten used to it, and when it strike we usually shrug it off with sighs of exasperation, or slowly shaking our fist in the air.

Other responses include head desk, face palm, palm desk followed by head desk, head wall etc. Basically any combination the head and a solid object.

Now at this point I know what you are thinking, and yes you are right.

Rage would also be (although rather overkill and inappropriate) response, but if reading Rage Essence has taught you anything, it is that whenever rage is an overkill and inappropriate response, it is also the best response.

I will reintroduce our usual rager. Who has just been victimized by Murphy's Faggotry in the form of the color inversion screen of hilarity.

Although I was right beside him when this occurred, I only experienced two things, one was out of the corner of my eye I saw a small black object fly by (of which I wrongly assumed to just be a key from a keyboard), the other was I heard a low guttural growl which I correctly assumed was a raging rage roar.

I've since realized that the object was actually a part of a computer mouse. You may be familiar with this device, it has two buttons and a middle scroll (whatever it is that Macs have, it is not a computer mouse). The part that we are going to focus on is neither of those, it is rather the shell of the mouse that you rest your hand on.

The part that I assumed was partially welded on to the bottom.

The fact that he instantaneously removed that piece with one hand signals to me that 1) our rager faps a whole damn lot, and 2) he is not afraid of using that hand to destroy.

The destruction may not have been so clear and heavy, but just the thought of the chaos and havoc that one hand can create in future rages is enough to give me nightmares (that and the fapping).

Think about it kids, one single hand ripped off the entire top of the mouse and flung it across the room. Apply to your face, that is more than enough to cause your inner facial anatomy to be revealed to everyone present.

The moral here is, never let ragers touch you with their hands. God only knows what it can do to you. And what sort of weird ass shit is on it.

-tis Tommy

Rage Essence #2

Gentlemen, it is that time of the week again.

No, it's not the time for me to express my complete and utter disappointment at the other of this blog, although there is plenty of that incoming.

It is the time now to make the weekly rage out update.

In the last rage essence, I mentioned an individual, who happened to take an insult a tiny smidgen bit too seriously and throw a goddamn keyboard across the room.

Today's rage essence showcases this individual once again, although this time, he introduces us to not the F1 rage storm, but the F2.

The F2 rage storm is different from the F1 in that it is much more sustained, and makes everyone around more welcoming to the idea of arming the civilian populace.

What results from this is much chair and monitor flipping, along with a couple of hard kicks to desks that causes near inches of displacement.

The damage that inevitable is inflicted on the inanimate objects in the general area is impossible to prevent, so how are you supposed to stop an F2 rage storm?

Prevention is always better than any solution.

Consider what happened to trigger this storm. The same instigator from last time, decided it would be abso-fucking-lutely hilarious to invade the seat that our rager had already taken by flipping the chair on him.

That's right kids, if you violently take over someone else's seat, be prepared to fend of a F2 rage storm. Especially if that someone is a fat guy. Never fuck with fat guys. That is all.

-tis Tommy

Btw, it's nice to see you finally posted; I lol at your attempt to give relationship advice; I am extremely disappoint that you choose to once again insult me.
Clearly, you are only nice to one person, and we all know who that is (for those out of the loop, go read the "Surprise" post. Seriously, go read it and then tell it to the whole world; lulz will be assured).

Also, I'm totally not depressed or raging, I've actually been very content with life lately.

Sit down, lets chat

You and I have been cool lately.

You finally calmed down and warmed up, and started generally being more enjoyable.

But today was just ridiculous.

I'm just minding my own business, and BAM you hit me head on for no reason.

Ok, I'll can pass this off as an accident, no big deal.

I can just turn, and go back along me merrily little way.

Nope, you're there too, and now you're also starting to irritate me.

I turn the other way.

Seriously what the hell man, are you doing this shit on purpose? Get out of my face!

Ok, there's like only four goddamn directions possible, you can't be in freaking ALL of them.

Nope, still there.

This is no joke man, you're preventing me from moving here; every second I'm on this bike, my future progeny gets that much more retarded. JUST WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU WANT FROM ME?


Yes, I'm talking about you again, NATURE.


So, after that perilous journey home, I've come to the conclusion that you and I need to have a talk. From one man to another physical phenomena.

Now, don't get me wrong, I don't hate you or anything like that; after all, I literally cannot live without you.

But I don't see what is preventing the two of us from coming to some sort of reasonable compromise here.

See, I've done my research, and I know this wind crap that you've been throwing at me isn't something you can exactly just stop.

However, the only type of wind I've seen that should be able to come at me in every single mother damning direction is either a goddamn tornado or a goddamn hurricane.


I've looked it up online, there is NO hurricanes either incoming to Hamilton, or currently in Hamilton.

I also happen to know that I'm still alive, and tornadoes have this nasty habit of picking people up and straight up murdering them.

SO WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON NATURE?

Clearly, what you did to me is not some sort of natural thing you do involuntarily; it's something you actively worked at to piss me the hell off.

Which leads me to ask: Why the hate?

I've done nothing to make you mad man, and what you're doing is just downright unfriendly.

Oh god it's because I'm Chinese isn't it?

You're still bitter about us firing artillery at you back in the Beijing Olympics aren't you?

...

COME ON nature. That was 2 years ago, and it wasn't even me, it was the damn government man.

I swear if it was up to me, I would've let you rain all freaking summer man, I love monsoon season, some of my best friends are monsoon...seasons.

Look, if it makes you feel any better, I truly sorry about the whole firing anti-cloud shells at your face and everything.

Just...stop torturing me, please.

-tis Tommy

Seriously, I'm gonna be biking to school everyday now and my reproductive organs can't take much more of this.

'Crastination Take #1

It's Sunday, which means tomorrow I have a metric fuck ton of work due.

I have a metric fuck ton of work due tomorrow, which means right now I'm procrastinating.

I'm procrastinating, which means I'm doing everything conceivable excluding what I am supposed to do.

Turns out, everything is freaking boring, which means that doing work is starting to look like an enjoyable alternative.

Unfortunately, I have chronic procrastination syndrome, which means I'm going to avoid work even when I clearly do not want to.

This turns into me lurking the internet in an effort to amuse myself, while constantly looking at the time and calculating exactly how much time I have to do actual work if I started right now.

......

With every glance at the clock, the panic at the back of my mind grows a little more. Yet I continue to delay.

Even as I type this, alarms are going off in my head, my brain is literally telling me to fucking stop being a retard and get to work.

When the voices in my head start to dish out logically sound advice, I know something has gone horribly awry.

Still delaying.

It seems like my entire life is just one big orgy of delays.

Then again, if I want to go into that train of thought, life is just a period of delay until death.

Damn, that was a depressing thought.

Time to look at a rainbow, that'll make me feel better.

Double the rainbow, double the better.

Feeling better, and motivated to actually do work now.

Ok well, feeling better at least.

Time to get some work done.

-tis Tommy

By the way, did you know the Harmonized Sales Tax used to be called the Blended Sales Tax?

The HST tax would've very literally have been called the BST; now that would've been honesty in policy making right there.

Damn politicians and their anal naming sense.

Rage Essence

Playing Starcraft can be very hazardous to your health.

I'm not talking about the life shortening effects of sitting on your ass all day, I'm talking about the very real dangers that arises when rage occurs.

Consider the following scenario.

A group is playing Starcraft via LAN. Team A is roflstomping Team B.

A player from team A then decides to inform team B of the copious amounts of fail that has just been delivered to them by calling the entirety of team B a derogatory term that is normally reserved for use at homosexuals; this message was of course, preceded with a sexually ambiguous "suck it."

Normally, this is when a round of trash talking would ensue, with volleys of increasingly creative and profane insults being hurled back and forth by a few, while everyone else tries to focus on the game.

Unfortunately, this was not the case.

You see, a spherical member of team B decided that enough was enough, and that this faggotry was not going to continue on his watch. So does this mean he tells the offending member to shut the hell up and play the game?

Of course not.

He picks up a keyboard and hurls it across the room; an action so shocking that some players actually manage to lose focus on the game, if only for an instant. (fat man throw stuff = very scary)

Now, there was no casualties this time, but had that individual thrown the keyboard in a different direction, or picked up a monitor instead of keyboard, the results could have been much more catastrophic.

There is lesson somewhere in here kids, but I'm much too scarred by this incident to figure it out.

-tis Tommy (seriously almost shat a brick)

Hey what the hell winter?

So you come into my planet just to give everyone the goddamn cold shoulder; you scare all my animal friends away, you make all the food disappear, and then you proceed to refuse to leave when your presence is clearly no longer welcome.

The only thing I've ever liked about winter was the epic snow-scape that it brings; watching them just gives me the most calm and relaxed feeling in the whole damn universe.

Fucking. Beautiful.

Because of this, by the end of winter I'm usually pretty neutral to winter. I think "Sure it came in and ruined about 6 months of my life, but I got to look at some amazing outdoor landscapes (I'm easily amused by pretty white trees) , so I guess it balances out." However, it no longer balances when at winter's end, the season decides to pull one last dick move on me by turning the above into THIS:

Imagine this, but on a forest trail, and with me biking on it. Then imagine me, repeatedly stabbing chunks of melting snow and slush while crying uncontrollably.

Just when I started thinking better of you winter, you pull this shit on me. 

Winter sucks when its here, but somehow manages to suck even more when it leaves.

You are a bullshit excuse for a season and I hope you burn in hell; maybe that'll turn you into summer.

-tis a very bitter Tommy