I was on a gob kick as of late. They’re sometimes referred to as “whoopie pies.” I just finished the last of my stash and I was getting an urge for a twinkie. I don’t know why, maybe it was exposure a couple of weeks ago. The craving has stuck, but at least I found a recipe online for “twinks” which are uh, yeah—homemade twinkies.
Interesting naming convention aside, I’d really like to try making a batch of these at some point.
And not deep frying them.
I love my neighborhood. It’s great. More often than not, I’m disappointed that I don’t take advantage of it. I found an antiques store today with this art deco clock that winds up with a key. It was intricately carved and I really wanted to take it home, even though I didn’t have a place for it.
Not to mention that it wasn’t working, and I don’t really know any horologists that can fix it.
There was also a lot of rhinestone jewelry and old looking brooches. I may speak to the proprietor sometime to try and get photos of the items in store.
The bag is black, nondescript, its handle extended in the way I’ve seen with commuter bags on the Metro. In all aspects it is unremarkable save for one—it is unattended.
I started eavesdropping as I was without book or headphones. This is how I first hear about the bag.
It is a group of young men, all possibly heading home after a night out. They’re all well mannered, not too loud, but all discussing what to do about the bag. What’s the protocol? Is it like finding an unattended child in a restroom? What do you do? There is a lot of laughter that slowly transitions to disquiet when they realize, three stops later, that the bag is truly unattended.
I can’t see the bag from where I am sitting. I wonder how long it has been on the train and whether or not I should get on the intercom.
A Metro employee boards the train and they tell him that it’s an unattended bag. He tells them that he will take care of it.
At the next stop, I get up along with a dozen other people. As we approach the door and the bag, he stops me and asks if the bag is mine.
“No.” I say, as flat and as long as I can without it sounding like two syllables. There is a pause as he looks me over. There is an unspoken approval and I get off the train and on to the platform.
He asks no one else as we disembark from the train.
“Sure,” I say to no one in particular. “Ask the one brown guy in the train.”
“Well,” a voice behind me answers. “It was either you,” she pulls down her scarf, and behind it, I see a young middle eastern woman. “Or me.”
And we laugh.
It was a bad day for the D70. Out of ten photos, I was about to get less than half transferred to my laptop. Two of which were the only ones I could salvage.
I had planned on shooting until the camera out and out died. However, this quantum state of being broken and yet not broken* is really kind of frustrating.
Even more so when I can preview all of the pictures on the camera itself, but it only fails when it’s time to transfer photos. Even worse, I didn’t even get any glitch photography out of them and I was really hoping I’d get at least something from the picture of the single gear bicycle I took a picture of in Adam’s Morgan.
Although I suppose that Flickr doesn’t need another picture of a single gear bicycle.
Rest assured that picture was awesome in a non ironic way.
* it’s kind of like a koan*
* and now I hear you groan
I did enjoy Diablo and Diablo II. I think I enjoyed them to the point where I actually wore out a mouse from clicking, which was probably the worst part of the Diablo titles.
On the other hand, I picked up Torchlight which is basically Diablo, right down to the Soundtrack, much more streamlined, and not as annoying.
But, I’m going to talk about Borderlands now, and the references to Diablo aren’t completely apparent until I talk about guns and equipment.
Borderlands has four classes, 50 levels, and about 87 bazillion guns. The equipment is procedurally generated, so there’s no real set list of equipment, merely modifiers for elemental types of damage, manufacturer, type of gun, magazine size, burst fire rate, melee damage bonuses—the list goes on, but you can see how you would end up with lots and lots of different guns.
Borderlands is so much fun that I have beat it. And gone back to play it again on the harder difficulty. I have 90% of the Achievements for it for the Xbox 360 version, including the ones for the Zombie Island DLC. That almost never happens. I’m also playing it again on the PC with some friends who only got the PC version. So it’s kind of embarrassing how much I’ve been playing this game.
It does not have the most critical acclaim for the best story, nor game mechanics, nor the graphics. What it does have is solid, fun, and engaging gameplay. It’s well put together. To be honest, I think they could have gone back and actually touched the main character’s back stories a lot more. It’s just that once the main storyline starts, it’s just a rollercoaster ride because you finish quests quickly, and often.