Currently Playing Crazy V-Games

I haven't left my friend Jeff's house all day, and I've spent it doing nothing but eating, playing video games (Starcraft, Battlefield Vietnam, and Unreal Tournament), and watching old episodes of Dynaman and new episodes of askaninja.com. When my life is over, the Powers That Be will point to this as a completely wasted day. I haven't even been very good at the video games. Somebody stop me, before I eat and sit myself to destruction. Oh wait, I'm coming back home tomorrow. Cancel that, and pass the odd cabbage-and-scalloped-potatos-in bacon-butter thingy that's been sitting on the counter all day.

So, what's the status of Evanescence these days? They still a band? If you were here, you'd know why I'm asking that.

I'm trying to get my Wordpress blog going, because I think the newness of the technology (to me, that is) will motivate me to post more. I'm trying to get the content on epth.blogspot.com exported over there, but the internet is telling me that I need to enable something called CURL extensions for php to do that. The internet then shut up and didn't tell me where to find them.
Stupid internet.

Some of my friends are going to a "baccanalia" tonight. They're going to eat pretentious food and worship Rome. Apparently, it's like a toga party for intellectuals. I'm staying here though, and I bet you can guess what I'll be doing. Mmm...lukewarm cabbage and potatos...hey, I think there's some heavy whipping cream in this, too.

Crazy Week, eh? (looks around sheepishly)

(Creating poo is hard work for a dog)

Geez, this week has been crazy. It's only going to get worse now, as I get up and leave this stinking 102-degree town for my trip to St. Louis, where I will play all manner of video games and eat all manner of confections and fried delights. Or at least some brats.

I feel genuinely bad about my lack of updates (the World Cup post notwithstanding) over the past month. I've got a schedule of things in my head, it's just a matter of getting them out. Also, I have no time and a dog that demands my attention. On top of that, I'd like to migrate this thing over to epthnation.com, so I feel like a real blogger. Maybe I'll give out goodies or something. My goodies. No, that came out wrong. Someone's goodies. Hold on...what I mean is...a free lunch or something. Or a keychain. Everybody likes those.

Our apartment complex fined us $25 for not cleaning up our dog's doo. We've lived there 4 1/2 years, and this is the first time that's happened. That's like fining Sly Stallone for mumbling, is all I'm saying. All of a sudden we have to clean up the doo? It was a shock and an outrage, and we really can't wait to get out of this ghettoized Spinal Tap-style hell hole. And folks don't even lend a hand here.

Working on This Backlog

Above: Zinedine "Zippy" Zidane looks for ways to appear more gay. He does this because he is French. La-Dee-Da.

We here at Epth Nation have this huge backlog of things to say because of my current job situation and the hectic-ness that has been thrust upon me. I keep intending to get up early every day and write (and exercise, and plot world domination, and pick up my dog's doodoo, and etc.), but for some reason it hasn't happened yet. I blame the Fundamentalists, because we all need a scapegoat. Anyway, it's nearly 11 and I'm just now getting to this. We're in an adjustment period here, people. Please bear with me.

Zippy Zidane*, pictured above, ended his illustrious and industrious World Cup career Sunday by being baited into headbutting the Italian scuzzbag Matarazzi. Zidane has often been mentioned as being a candidate for best soccer player in the world, and the fact that he's French doesn't bother the rest of humanity as much as it does us USA Americans. To put this another way, he's a big star who did the stupidest thing possible in the biggest game of his career. If he were playing in the NBA, he'd be known solely as "the headbutter," or possibly "Boris Zhukov."*** Since he plays in the forgiving (and soccer-worshipping) international arena, he's simply that great player from France who made a mistake that nobody remembers.

I'm not going to get into the whole headbutt controversy, or the Italian World Cup victory, or even the fact that soccer is a nice but fatally flawed sport that the world is now stuck with. The World Cup and that horse it rode in on are swiftly riding off into the sunset. We won't have to hear the words "Landon Donovan" and "failure" in the same sentence again for four years. But Zinedine Zidane not only escaped the pain and shame of being branded a failure, FIFA actually gave him the "Golden Ball,"**** which is the award given to the top player in the World Cup tournament. The man's boneheadedness most likely cost his team the victory, and they give him the Golden Fricking Ball. Why not give it to Matarazzi, who got Zippy kicked out of the game? Why give it to THE LOSERS?

The sad part is that headbutt was easily the most exciting moment of the game. It was an awesome headbutt. I encourage you to check it out on youtube.com. But I'm glad soccer is fading away -- the last thing I need right now is another frustrating sport to take up my time. Yes, that's the last thing I need. Packer training camp is just a couple of weeks away, and they probably have less talent now than they did last year at this time. They went 4-12 last year. Aaargh.

Maybe they can sign Zidane to play special teams. They need somebody who can throw out a few headbutts now and then.

Gotta go. This beer is making my brain sweat. It's getting all over my medulla oblongata.


* Real name: Zinedine, which sounds like a drug that the FDA is currently testing. For that matter, so does "Zidane." "If you experience an e***tion lasting more than 4 days after taking Zinedine, please consult a physician."

** As long as we're pointing this sort of thing out, doesn't his name sound like a make of car that some rich eurotrash would be driving? "There were only 10 of these Matarazzis made, and I've got one of them. Aren't I extraordinarily rich?"

*** If you get this reference I don't know whether to congratulate you or pity you.

**** This concept conjures up a mental image, and that image says the first rule of the Golden Ball is don't kick the Golden Ball.