As I sit in my current lodgings cradling an empty bottle of cheap, store-bought sangria, I ponder how I arrived at this point in my life. What decisions could have been made better? What choices could have taken me to greater heights? Were life but Dragon Age: Origins with save states and new beginnings. And dwarves. Well, real life has dwarves. They’re just not as fun as the fantasy ones. Just as surly though. At least, that’s been my experience with them.
The Devin of four years ago would have scoffed at the Devin of the now. He’d say “Think outside the box! Go for a radical paradigm shift!” Devin of four years ago had a penchant for dated corporate lingo. A fascination we do not share. That bastard. I wonder what ever happened to him.
You might be wondering, “Hey, Devin of the now, where’s our Crank 2 review? You promised it now!” Well shut your yaps, jabberwockies! By now you should be used to my skewed view of time. It’ll get here when it’s here. And it will be here. At the appropriate time. Until then we play the waiting game. But that’s not to say we can’t have fun. I’ve got a croquet set! And some witty bon mots to share. Let us begin.
From the Desk of Devin Coombs:
Dear Lowes’ Paint Department,
I get it. You’re working minimum wage for a job you likely hate. Let’s move past the fact that your company wouldn’t hire me, a guy who knows what he’s doing. No, like all businesses, 16 year old girls with no actual work experience are the key to success. I get that. But I expect, at the bare minimum, a sense of competence.
I need paint. You know what paint is, right? You do work in the paint department, so I think that’s a fair assumption. I need this paint, in this color, and I need a lot of it. Enough to cover a house. Because I’m gonna paint it. I need a different color for window trim, but let’s not get ahead of ourselves.
Were you aware that paint cans come in various sizes? Because you seem pretty adamant that it does not. Well, I need 5 gallon buckets. Which are bigger than those 1 gallon cans. Trust me.
Whatever. Let’s just argue about it for an hour or so. No, this shade of grey should not be white. No, I can’t just go with something else. Nor do I need any tile. Don’t try to pawn me off on some other Lowes employee! I WILL NOT BE SILENCED!
Unless it’s by that scary lady with the Lowes logo tattoo. She kinda freaks me out. Why is she looking at me like that. Make her stop!
…fine, I’ll take some 1 gallon cans of white.
Still painting by numbers,
Falsified Celebrity Encounter Corner!
Scott Bakula cheats at darts.
There I was, enjoying a good time at Bellisariocon ’99 (with grillmaster Jan-Michael Vincent) when I was approached for a friendly game of darts by none other than Dr. Sam Beckett himself.
“Hell, I love Necessary Roughness,” I told myself, “This should be a hoot!”
A hoot it was not, dear readers. A hoot it was not.
You might think Scott Bakula to be a humble man, my friends. A genuine human being to whom fame has caused no lasting damage. Well, while this may be true of Sir Thomas Selleck (who won the limbo contest by-the-bye), Bakula has a demon in him. The demon of pride.
In what ways is it “proper darts” for me to be blindfolded? I’ve no doubt that he played sans eyecover. He quoted Paraguay rules, but I doubt they play darts there. Do they? Chime in with an answer.
And I was not aware that tv stars were allowed a courtesy bullseye? Is this a sub-equator thing as well? I guess we “northies” have a thing or two to learn. Either way, I got a triple twenty and was rewarded with a punch to the kidneys and my darts taken off the board. Needless to say, I was a tad incensed.
Let me tell you, incensed is not the state to be with the Bakula. Not minutes later, I hit another bullseye, winning our game. I turned to give tv’s favorite time traveler a friendly handshake. He responded with a friendly pistol-whip. As my mind faded into blackness, I made out but two words circling the abyss.