Posts Tagged ‘Love’

The Descent Into Skyrim

Posted: December 31, 2011 by kaostheory in Slice of Life
Tags: , , , ,

Look, I’m not even going to lie about it or cover it up. I’m not going to claim that I’ve been super-drunk or using my dick as a divining rod (finding wetness…get it?). First off, I was working. Yes, working. Dress clothes, 6 AM mornings, commutes, office work, lunchtimes filled with desperate socialization, playing around on news sites, uncomfortable random erections underneath the keyboard. I was an actual professional. Of course, they fired my ass because it just ‘wasn’t the right fit’. God forbid they train me on stuff I don’t know so I can be a more productive worker beyond just Tweeting and browsing Slate.com for eight hours a day. But that ended like two weeks ago, before Christmas. After Christmas?

Skyrim.

Holy shit. That game is like if sex was distilled into a CD form, laced with pure Colombian cocaine, covered with $1000 bills, and, just for good measure, a nice big juicy steak along with it. I’ve lost myself in Assassin’s Creed before. I’ve lost myself in Mass Effect. I’ve lost myself in Red Dead Redemption and LA Noire and all that. I have never been so lost in a game before. Not even metaphorically. I sometimes don’t know where the fuck in the world of the game I AM. With all the damn mountains and oceans and…vaguely sexually appealing dark elves.

My point is that the line between Skyrim and real life is becoming more blurred with every minute I spend walking the realm on my 360. To that end, I shall share with you my various and sundry thoughts and observations I have had while walking around, meeting Nords, and experiencing unabashed racism in-game (Windhelm specifically, which is like about two years away from going all Holocaust-y on Dunmer). Enjoy.
——
On Character Creation

I could be a chick. Or I could actually enjoy playing the game.

Wait, that’s an awesome beard. Can I…HOLY SHIT, I CAN BE KING LEONIDAS!

Okay, I can’t not play Leonidas. And the name has to be the same.

On Dragons

I just murdered a big, ugly-ass dragon by MYSELF and a sword. ALONE. I deserve a goddamn blowjob, woman!

For fuck’s sake, do these dragons have a death pact or something? After like three died, you’d think they would want to avoid me. “Dude, did you hear? Frank died.” “What? No way! How?” “Some asshole who calls himself Dragonborn ripped his cloaca out and beat him to death with it.” “Shit. Is that the same guy that killed Eddie and Marcus?” “Yeah. Yeah it is.” “Shit, man. I’m going to steer clear of him. Maybe try out Hammerfell for a bit, just until the murders stop.” WOULDN’T THAT BE MORE REASONABLE?

So…is this like sex where since I stole a dragon’s soul, I stole the soul of every dragon that dragon has ever been with? Did I just bang a few lady dragons? Or, worse, did I just steal the soul of a virgin dragon? Good Lord. There is nothing more depressing than a virgin dragon. All with the big thick coke-bottle glasses, a constant sinus infection, a pocket protector, a floppy disk full of inter-dragon porn, one arm bigger than the other. Ew.

On Trading

What do you mean you’re going to give me half price on that? I CUT A FUCKING ORC’S HEAD OFF WITH A MACE FOR THAT! It’s worth at least 250 gold, you dickhole.

You know what? I’m not going to buy any of your shit. I’m just going to go upstairs and rob your ass blind anyways.

Why are you following me? I’m a damn hero. I own all your life.

On Quests

Let me run through this again to be clear. You are sending me – the Dragonborn, the hope of the world, the last fucking man on Earth that can stop the big fuckoff evil dragon from devouring our souls – to deliver an axe to another guy you’re kind of feuding with. Are you always this big of a prick?

You know, I’m starting to think that my willingness to be an errand boy is permeating my legend of awesomeness and bringing it down a peg.

INFINITE QUESTS?! Oh fuck me…

On Personal Interactions

Maven. Is. A. Cunt. There’s no two ways around it. With apologies and all licensing credit to Matt Stone and Trey Parker…

Weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeellllll,

Maven is a bitch!
She’s a big fat bitch!
She’s the biggest bitch in the whole wide world!
She’s a stupid bitch!
If there ever was a bitch!
She’s a bitch to all the boys and girls!

On Monday she’s a bitch,
On Tuesday she’s a bitch,
On Wednesday thru Saturday she’s a bitch!
Then on Sunday just to be different,
She’s a super king kamehameha bi-atch!

(Come on you all know the words!)

Have you ever met my boss Maven
She’s the biggest bitch in the whole wide world!
She’s a mean old bitch,
And she has stupid hair!
She’s a bitch, bitch, bitch, bitch, bitch, bitch, bitch
Bitch, bitch, bitch, bitch, bitch, bitch, bitch, bitch!
She’s a stupid bitch! (Woo!)
Maven is a bitch
And she’s such a dirty bitch!(Hey!)

Talk to kids around the world.
It might go a little bit something like this…

[Sung in 4 different languages by other children]

Have you ever met my boss Maven,
She’s the biggest bitch in the whole wide world!
She’s a mean old bitch,
And she has stupid hair!
She’s a bitch, bitch, bitch, bitch, bitch, bitch, bitch,
Bitch, bitch, bitch, bitch, bitch, bitch, bitch, bitch!
She’s a stupid bitch!
Maven is a bitch,
And she’s such a dirty bitch!

I reeeally mean it,
Ma-ve-en,
she’s a big fat, fuckin’ bitch!
Big, old, fat, fuckin’ bitch!
Maaaaaveeeeeeeeeeennnn!
Yeahhhhh, Chaaaaa!

I’m not proud but, really, she’s totally awful. I hate her.

I really feel kind of bad for not only ripping off some of the merchants, but turning around and stealing from them. Kind of. Then I sell them back their necklaces and my guilt goes away.

There is no greater sweet irony than destroying one man’s relationship with a woman for another man, then turning around and marrying the woman and screw the jerk out of a happy marriage. Wamp wamp.

I can’t sleep with my wife. What kind of bullshit is that?

I’m actually most comfortable with the town of Riften…even though it’s filled with thieves and Argonians.

Seriously. Why can’t I fuck my wife?
——
I’ll be honest. I’m kinda drunk right now.

(Kinda? – ed.)

Shush. This may be edited in later days. But for now, have a great New Year’s Eve and don’t fuck anyone that you can’t get your arms around!

How To Somehow Get A Girl To Be Down With Your Sickness

Posted: October 16, 2011 by kaostheory in Informative
Tags: , , ,

So it finally happened.

With a lot of luck, some prayer, every bit of smoothness your anxiety-riddled body can manifest, the stars aligning, and probably a sacrifice to Baal, you’ve managed to convince a pretty girl to date you. Congrats. You’ve just completed Step One in “Becoming a Man 101”. Your midterm will be stalking and murdering a rhinoceros with only your bare hands and a small flint knife. We know. It’s a really good grading curve, don’t worry. Oh, and of course you have to be naked. That just stands to reason.

Anyways, you managed to finally get yourself a lady. But, damn it all, you don’t live in the same city. It’s completely unavoidable. Always has to be a damn barrier somewhere. No matter. She’s got a break coming up and you’ve worked out a time that you can drive down and do all the cute stuff and sexy stuff that you’ve been dreaming about. It’s really pretty disgusting. The cute stuff, I mean. It’s like you took off your spiky armor of badass and slipped on a thin little slip of content. On the other hand, ain’t nothin’ wrong with your manly designs.

The point is that the time will eventually pass. It will be agonizingly slow and feel like someone is slowly twisting your nuts inside your chest and stomach. Kind of a full-body time distortion thing. It would be actually kind of cool if it wasn’t so damn frustrating. Anyways, eventually, you will make the drive down to see her, stomach all wrapped up and panic setting in as you approach her campus. A moment passes and now you’ve texted her that you’re here. You have two days to put this shit on lockdown just in case some psychopathic pseudo-Aryan with a dog tries to steal her away in the night like a perverted Robin Hood. Or…you know…just tries to discredit you in her eyes.

So…what do you do? There are some ways to really get it going on. We’re here to help. Call this a ‘lady cheat sheet’. And yes, before you send any worried comments or emails about “Holy shit, dude, are you mental?”, this has all been cleared by the lady, proof positive why she is the best.
——
First off, bring her something cute. It’s a nice way to show that you care and is an easy way to get quick brownie points. Say, for instance, if the girl in question (we’ll call her Misspearlnecklace) has a beloved sock monkey, a smaller, similarly named sock monkey stuffed in your bag will be “so cute”. Fact. Probably not a good idea to put the toy in your pants and ask her to root around in there though. At least wait until you’ve kissed a couple times.

Also, if her momma wants to go to lunch with the two of you, for the love of God, do it. It’s a little-known fact that if you win over the parents (especially the mother), the road to a happy life with Miss Lady will be much easier. Hold her hand during serious conversation, smile and be witty, and offer to take the check. Just don’t reveal that you’ve been face-down in her daughter the previous day and…like…an hour ago. That would be very bad.

Next, don’t be scared of taking the downtown route. If she’s a good girl (or a bad girl, depending on your definition), she will pay you back by playing the man organ, but you have to be prepared. If you do your job poorly, you’ll end up with her cranky and unwilling to even Shake Weight you. So you need to be ready. Maybe do some tongue twisters on the way down. Or stretches. Stretches work too. The point is that you don’t want to cramp right as she’s about to blow her top (and then maybe your dick). If you do your job right, though, you can almost lock your jaw, make that little tie under your tongue ache, and hang a Durant on her.

(That’s her cumming 35 times, for those not in the know. Wait, how would you be in the know since I just made that term up? Also, it’s a Durant because Kevin Durant of the Oklahoma City Thunder wears number 35 but you can feel free to substitute your own sports star instead.)

Don’t forget to use your fingers either. It is almost ridiculously easy to, as you curl up on her bed exchanging body fluids through your mouths, to just…oops…slip your left hand down there to see what all the fuss is about. If you want to pull a Durant, you’re going to have to do a little divining a lot of the time because, let’s face it, even the strongest and hardiest man with the most muscular tongue in the world is going to get tired. There’s only so much you can expect that part to do before it shuts down. Thankfully, if you’re good with your hands, you can boost your stat total and make her forget her own birthday.

Since we’re on the subject, don’t just focus on the crotchal region. While that is a very fun part of the lady’s body and you want to spend a good deal of time there (and you can be damn sure she’ll want you there too – if she doesn’t, something is wrong in her brain), you don’t want to put all your energy into it. There will be a point where her special spots become too sensitive and overworked to tolerate further intrusion. When she tells you to give her a moment to breathe, do it. The last thing you want to do is make her hurt you because you took one flick too many.

Instead, spread your wealth around. There is are a couple little spots on a woman’s neck where if you attack it with kisses, they will melt. And the boobs are a great place to just spend an hour or two. You can motorboat them, regardless of size, and very well SHOULD. But every lady is different too so you are going to have to go all Magellan on her and explore. You will find new and interesting ways to make her jump, purr, and attack your face. Be proactive!

Pin her up against the wall. Attack her as she’s dressing. Kiss her in the kitchen as she’s cooking dinner. If she has it as bad for you as you do for her, you are going to be sitting pretty with all of those sexy little moves. However, you being the epitome of modern manliness- capable of skinning an antelope with a glare, able to crush boulders with one swing of your mighty testicles, chest hair in a natural Superman pattern, eyes like two cold blue marbles piercing the night sky, musk of pure dude – only goes so far. If you want to just love ’em and leave ’em, this is not the article for you. Go back to your bars and massage parlors and frat houses and…um…symphonies, I guess.

No, my friends. If you have the special lady (Misspearlnecklace is mine so HANDS THE FUCK OFF, OTHER MEN), you want to show that you aren’t just a sledgehammering son of a bitch. No, you need to give them some sweetness.

Now how do you define sweet stuff? Allow me to help you.

Cuddling is not a teddy bear or what neutered dogs do to poor, innocent stuffed animals. Cuddling is an essential element of being a passable boyfriend. Cuddling can take on many forms.

For example, lying down in bed (you can still be starkers – nobody ever said that clothes have to be involved) and just letting her settle into that spot where your arm meets your body. It’s called, at least in my lexicon, the ‘nook’ and is a highly prized position for any woman to be in. I’m not saying that just about mine. I’m saying in general. You give your lady that, you’re giving her reason to believe that you aren’t going to just tear ass out the front door in the middle of the night. Because you can’t. Because she’s got you pinned down. Which is hot. In the pants.

Curling up together is along those same lines. It’s just that period of lying down and being all disgustingly cute and kissy and touchy between periods of being all hot and throwing love around. The calm before the storm…or the eye of the storm, depending on how you want to define it. This the stage that is more profoundly horrifying to pissy teenage emo boy-girls than any other.

Holding hands also counts as smart cuddly stuff. It’s a little thing and doesn’t require a whole lot of physical exertion. It’s not like snuggling which requires the use of both arms and probably a leg. Holding hands requires only one hand, leaving your other hand free to masturbate or check Twitter or just point at things around the room. You can give up at least a hand, can’t you? Don’t be a selfish dick. Give her that much.

Finally, beyond all else, it really helps the cause of your heart and your dick – both of them – if you can make her laugh. I’m not talking just giggle and smile. That’s normal girl behavior, except in the case of Huge Bitch Syndrome, in which case…God help you. No, I am talking about that laugh where she has lost all ability to maintain composure and curls up into a little ball, hands over her face, shaking with laughter. THAT is what you need and we’re finishing this article with proof positive that it works wonders. The following are actual quotes from this past weekend with Misspearlnecklace and I.

While making out:
MPN – “There’s so much love in this room, I’m worried that I could actually get pregnant.”
KT- “All the chances have gone down your throat.”

MPN – “We should make you cum every time the Titans score one week.”
KT – “Oh God. No. There’s only one of two ways it could go down. Either they put up like…seven touchdowns and by the end it would be like dry-firing a compound bow. Just PFFF. A little blast of air, kind of like those machines at the eye doctor that they use. It’s either that or they get shutout and it’d be like ‘Well…now what do I do? This dick ain’t gonna suck itself. Can I get an advance on next game? You know I’m good for it.’.”

KT – “Okay, we should stop for a second or my brain is going to overload and explode. I’ll forget how to do math. I’ll forget the alphabet. A, B, C, 4, Batman signal.”

While watching the US/Ecuador game:
MPN – “Take back the power from the Ecuadorians!”
KT – “What is number 4 on the list of never-before said phrases? That’s right below ‘Oh no no. No more oral sex for me, please.’.”

While watching TV and waiting to be picked up:
KT – “‘Now onto serious business. Did you bring any heroin with you? Because this would be a lot easier to handle if I was high.'”

MPN – “Why is Rosie O’Donnell…”
KT – “Alive?”

While discussing a hobo in DC that owns a Captain America shield:
KT – “That would be hilarious. SHIELD going through Central Park and seeing Cap wearing a brown overcoat with a huge beard under his mask, chugging Mad Dog 20/20, and killing pigeons with his shield so he can bring them to the Greek restaurant down the street where they’ll cook the birds for him. ‘Cap, what happened to you?’ ”m fuckin’ done with this country.’ ‘But why?’ ‘What’s the thing with th’ cars?’ ‘NASCAR?’ ‘Thass it. Thass why.’.”

While watching the Brazil/Mexico game:
KT – “I’m sorry, but that weirds me out every time. The players holding hands with the little kids on the way out to the field? It’s wrong. Look at those kids. They don’t want to be there. ‘Please. Just kill me. Mi familia…they do not know where I am. I do not wish to be rape anymore.’ Kids all walking in the hall, players coming up and asking them to come into the storage closet for a second to play with some soccer balls.”

KT – “I bet they are all serious pedophiles. It’s like necrophilia. (insert long discussion about the particulars of THAT) If you are calling yourself the world’s foremost necrophiliac, you have made some life choices that I don’t quite approve of.”

KT- “That would be awesome. The guy that just scored walking to the camera and just flipping it off slowly and meaningfully, mouthing ‘fuck you’ to the camera.”

While discussing the WMATA suicide:
MPN – “And it says here that they also found a suspicious package near one of the other lines.”
KT – “Awesome. Totally what I want when I’m trying to find a city to live in. People suiciding by train and suspicious packages. Hmm. I’ve narrowed my list down to DC and Kabul.”

KT – “It would be worse if you waited until the train was stopped and then jumped. Like ‘Hey man. Just start it up when you’re ready’. And the train bumps and pushes you a little bit.”

KT – “I really want my epitaph to be ‘What Hath God Wrought?’ Either because of the fact that I’m dead or because of the fact that I’m going to come back as a necrowarrior.”

While discussing cereals:
KT – “Fruity Pebbles are good but there’s always that one that doesn’t get wet in milk and is like a piece of shrapnel flying around your mouth. Same with Cocoa Pebbles. And the worst is Cap’n Crunch. That shit is like chewing on ball bearings. It’s like ‘I guess I hate my dental work that much. Let’s go fuck up some molars.’ Hey, I hope you like having a cleft palate because that shit is going to cut it in half.”
——
And that is how you win a woman.

(That is basically…huh…I guess kind of accurate. – ed.)

I know, right? Love brings me legitimacy!

(God help us all. – ed.)