Thursday, 16 January 2014

The tribal gang Benny

Benny was a part of the tribal gang called the Boot Riders before Mr. House occupied Vegas. As one of the three tribes who acknowledged to House's new rule, the Boot Riders were allotted to modernize The Tops casino. 

They were given suits and ties and renamed "The Chairmen". Benny saw the ability of New Vegas, but the tribe's chief at the time, Bingo, wanted to stay nomadic. To decide the direction of the tribe, Benny confronted Bingo to a knife fight, and the winner would be the leader of the tribe. Benny stabbed Bingo in the throat, killing him and winning the fight. 

Benny is fast to eradicate dissent among those Chairmen who sustain the old ways, even killing an old friend, an unnamed singer with a Psycho overdose.

Friday, 22 February 2013

Benny

Benny was a member of the tribal gang called the Boot Riders before Mr. House took over Vegas. As one of the three tribes who agreed to House's new rule, the Boot Riders were assigned to renovate The Tops casino. They were given suits and ties and renamed as "The Chairmen". Benny saw the potential of New Vegas, but the tribe's chief at the time, Bingo, wanted to stay nomadic. Benny was challenged to a knife fight, the winner becoming leader of the tribe, and Benny walked away after putting a knife through Bingo's throat. Benny is cautious of the Chairmen who support the old ways, even killing an old friend, an unnamed singer with a Psycho overdose, to stop dissent.

Benny's long-term goal is simple: control of New Vegas. The chances of such a thing happening seem very slim, but as Benny himself would say, he's not done rigging the odds yet. After attacking one of Mr. House's PDQ-88b Securitrons with a pulse grenade, Benny brought it in for examination. Unable to fix it himself, he allowed Emily Ortal to look at it in exchange for her reprogramming it. After finishing the reprogramming, the Securitron became known as Yes Man, an AI designed to obey every command given to him, which Benny used to interrogate him on the details of House's machinations.

He learned Mr. House had something buried underneath The Fort and of the Platinum chip - the key to all of House's plans. He also learned of the seven couriers hired by Victor - six decoys, and one carrying the Chip. Using Yes Man, Benny was able to discover the route the Courier would take, and hired Jessup, McMurphy and Chance to help him finish the job. The Courier was bound, gagged, shot in the head, buried in an unmarked grave at Goodsprings Cemetery, and left for dead.

Thursday, 2 August 2012

Dear Shana, Stop searching out frozen pieces of dog poop to lay on in the yard. They will never hatch. What are you, some sort of sick scat chicken?

So I probably have E coli now. Katie, my 18 year old lab partner, was working with me to innoculate some test tubes full of brown stuff with test tubes full of E coli, and instead of taking her time and not splashing live E coli virus all over the place, Katie decided that she would be the whirling dervish of disease and literally did splash E coli all over the place. On the positive side, getting doused in E coli puts the rest of the goings on in a person's life in perspective, like:

-getting laid off from work is not as bad as being bathed in E coli.

-receiving new comment emails everyday confirming that yes, your last post did actually suck like you thought it sucked is more preferable than singing in the E coli rain.

-waking up to Shana's rot-breath after she crawled her way up onto my pillow is about even with being assaulted by liquid E coli.

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So Pogo and Shana just spent a full minute turning in circles and slamming into each other when I was trying to switch the chain to the next one in line to go outside and crap in public, and I finally just stood back and watched until they gave up. Henceforth, they shall be named Tweedle Dum and Tweedle Idiot.

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I just realized that when people walk by and Shana is standing outside wearing the Michigan jersey that I trussed her up in to cover her skin thing while it heals, they think I am the kind of guy living alone that puts clothes on his dogs. I just had a vision of me as a still single sixty-five-year-old who takes his mini-poodle Precious out for walks in the park after putting a hand-knitted turtle neck sweater on her.

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Me: "Hey Brain."

Brain: "Hey T."

Me: "What's up, Steve?"

Steve: "Hey Tim, how was your weekend?"

Me: "Same ole, same ole. Oh yeah, Brian, you owe me fifty bucks. That midget prostitute you recommended Saturday night didn't know any tricks at all. Anyway, I gotta get to work. Catch you later Steve."

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Me: "Hey."

Brian: "Hey. How was your weekend?"

Me: "Eh, you know"

Brian: "I do know."

Me: "How was yours?"

Brian: "Eh. (shrugs)"

Me: "I hear that."

Brian: "Yeah."

Me: "Yep."

Brian: "So...."

Me: "Oh yeah, I think I have E coli."

Brian: "No kidding?"

Me: "Yeah."

Brian: "Bad times."

Me: "This is true."

Brian: "......"

Me: "......"

Brian: "E coli?"

Me: "Riddled with it, dude."

Monday, 9 February 2009

Workspeak and a WTF?!

Workspeak and a WTF?!
Me: "I forgot my lunch, and I'm broke and hungry."

Brian: "Sounds like a bad combination."

Me: "I'm like Oliver Twist, but without the cool accent. Though I'm not sure there was forgotten lunch in Oliver Twist. I think he was just hungry and shit out of luck."

Brian: "You could go jack somebody coming out of Burger King."

Me: "Eh. It's too cold outside, and they might get something I don't like. Then I'd have to wait for someone else. I got some stuff at home. I think I've got some venison meat left. What's a good way to cook venison with limited ingredients?"

Brian: "I dunno, what do you have?"

Me: "Well, lets see... venison."

Brian: "Important."

Me: "And heat. That's pretty much it."

Brian: "You could make hot meat."

Me: "That sounds good, how's that recipe go?"

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So, according to MSNBC, George Clooney met with Vice President Joe Biden to talk about U.S. policy in Sudan.

I really don't need to add to this one at all to make it stupid and funny.

I love easy work.

I'm going to go watch something that makes more sense to me, like the Japanese channel.

Genki de ne!!

(\__/)
(=' . '=)
(")_(")

Kawaii!!!

Go here for a minute

This is Sizzle's blog: (click). She's having a really bad time right now because her dog passed away, and If you can, drop by to read about Loubear and leave her a message of support.

Sunday, 8 February 2009

Workspeak

Workspeak


Brian: "You seen that movie Nights in Rodan?"

Me: "No. Who's in it?"

Brian: "Richard Gere and Diane Lane."

Me: "Oh. How was it?"

Brian: "Pretty good."

Me: "So did anything blow up?"

Brian: "No."

Me: "Anyone get murdered?"

Brian: "No."

Me: "Any huge fires?"

Brian: "....No."

Me: "Stabbings?"

Brian: "No."

Me: "Heists?"

Brian: "No."

Me: "Space aliens?"

Brian: "No."

Me: "Prison riots?"

Brian: "Nope."

Me: "Kidnappings?"

Brian: "None."

Me: "Clowns?"

Brian: "No."

Me: "....."

Brian: "....."

Me: "Sounds awesome."

-----------------------------

Brian: "We rented that Secret Life of Bees movie."

Me: "Ahh. So what's the bees' secret?"

Brian: "I don't know. I haven't seen it yet."

Me: "Do you think they're evil wizards?"

Brian: "The bees?"

Me: "Yeah. That could be their secret. Wizardry."

Brian: "Probably not."

Me: "You know what? I bet they're satanists."

Brian: "Probably."

Me: "Sounds pretty sweet. Satanist bees."

Brian: "Yeah."

Me: "Alright then. Good talk."

Friday, 6 February 2009

So I think I'm going to try something new. Oh, yeah- and Dr. Seuss is a hack.


So I think I'm going to try something new. Oh, yeah- and Dr. Seuss is a hack.
I was listening to an interview with Demetri Martin on Fresh Air the other day, and he was telling Terry Gross how he actually was almost finished with law school when he dropped out to start a career in comedy. I would have loved to sit in on that little conversation with his folks.

"Hey, Mom, Dad, I just wanted to say thanks for the three years of college tuition, but I think I'm going to follow my heart and go tell some jokes. Should be sweet."

He says that he was bored with law school and when he thought about what he really liked to do, it was making his friends laugh. Then he tried to figure out a way to make money from it. Which made me start thinking of all the stuff I really liked to do, so I came up with this list:

- I like sleeping in and hitting snooze a lot. I once hit the snooze button for three hours, every seven minutes.

- I like not having anything to do. I don't even like doing fun stuff when I have to do it. I was on a bowling league once and it was horrible. Bowling is fun until you have to bowl whether you want to or not. Schedules suck ass. Maybe Sunday mornings was a bad choice.

- I like jellybeans.

- I like trying to be funny. I used to have a tendency to blurt out what I'm thinking about, but wording it in a way that made it seem like I'd been pondering this wisdom for days. My Father comes from a farmer kind of background, and likes to spend his free time doing outdoorsy stuff like planting things, manipulating the soil so it grows things, and harvesting things. Once, shortly after I had moved out, I was over there giving him a hand planting potatoes or some such tomfoolery and I blurted out "You know what I've been thinking would make more sense? They should make potato plants all grow the same number of potatos, so you'd know how many you need to plant." Three things about this:

1) This in no way makes more sense. This would not make sense in any circumstance at any place on the planet.

2) I had not actually been thinking about this at all. In fact, I had not even finished thinking about it once before I presented it as a well thought out bit of wisdom that should be obvious to anyone who has ever eaten a potato.

3) My Father stopped what he was doing, looked at me for a minute, then said "Oh yeah?" and went back to what he was doing. I think what he actually was saying was "You know the only reason you're here is because the Pope says I can't wear a rubber, right?"

The only good thing about having had no concept of an inside voice growing up, was that because stupidity tumbled out of my mouth from time to time with no warning, people tended to think that I was trying to be funny and I'd get a laugh. I have cultivated this character flaw over the years, and can now say stupid things at will.

So I think I might try to write a book. I'm not really good at telling stories, but maybe if I string enough stupidity together and add a cover, people would like it. How hard can it be? There's like, tons of books; they're freaking everywhere. Plus, I know a lot of words.

Hell, If Dr. Seuss can do it, I sure as hell can. Red fish Blue fish? What the fuck is that nonsense? I can do better than that.