Let me preface what follows with this: I have a fever and i'm drunk on apple rum. Not sure what illness I have exactly, but there's a buzzing noise in my brain and it's only slightly dimmed with my "alcohol-as-panacea" approach. Let's jump right in!
Why do assholes feel the need to talk so much? Is it the calming drone of one's own voice inside one's own head? Does the asshole look at the faces of the people he's subjecting his asinine conversation, or is he blissfully unaware? I'm voting for unaware.
Case in point: last night at, of all places, "Fat Tuesday" on South Street.
I'm going to be unusually brief, but you'll get the point. Asshole 1 and 2 (no relation to asshole 1 and 2 of mardi gras fame) walk around the bar and start skirmishes. Asshole 2 has someone's dog tags and talks about being in the Air Force or some such bullshit. I had downed a few Duvells, 2 190 octanes (the local frozen drink), and perhaps a shot or two; so when it was my turn to be regaled by his slurred "souja" stories, I told him "I didn't realize the Air Force recruited midgets. Asshole."
Obviously I wasn't on the top of my game (he was REALLY short though), and he took it as insulting camradarie. Why me, oh god!? Why must the assholes of the world love ME? What have I done to earn your spite? I'll kill pagans, go celibate, eat nothing but fish for a year! Just please turn off my "Flypaper-for-freaks" allure.
The night ended when pseudo-souja failed to navigate around a table and somehow knocked down an entire bachlorette party. I have to admit, I was highly amused by this, and began an applause which was taken up by others. The bouncers picked him up, threw him out, and started to drag asshole #1 out. And, surprisingly, they came for me. So what did I say?
"Sir, I don't even know these assholes."
The bouncer laughed, and asshole #1 somehow heard me say this as they gave him the 'ol "drunkie heave ho!" into south street's stumbling, 1am populace.
"I'll get you mother-fucking traitor!" He shouted from outside.
Sure you will, buddy. Sure you will.
--HK_Newbie
Sunday, May 28, 2006
8:52 PM - No time for a title
Thursday, May 25, 2006
7:43 AM - More
This redeems the movie-
Why does every person with cool powers have to end up doing cross over battles?
Why does every person with cool powers have to end up doing cross over battles?
Wednesday, May 24, 2006
9:04 PM - More Vids
I don't know about anyone else, but I think this is fucking hot!
This one has a few things going on. I think its funny as hell someone made a song out of it. The she-man is kind of disturbing.
This one has a few things going on. I think its funny as hell someone made a song out of it. The she-man is kind of disturbing.
Tuesday, May 23, 2006
3:00 PM - HK_Newbie Goes positively Nutters
This past weekend was unusual. And that might be an understatement.
First, my weekend began approximately at 8pm on WEDNESDAY night, thanks to gking's unprecedented coaxing: "Doc, let's go drinking in the city with Boogie!"
My reaction was one of surprise and superstition. Was gking finally setting in place the ambush he's always threatened? Would I be able to make it through alive? To my further surprise, our old buddy, Boogie, was ready and willing to accompany us to philly for a night of debauched drunkery. Let me explain this character known as "Boogie" to you: He's a playa (and a player) with a passion for women, games, and persistently TRYING to defeat my cast-iron liver in glass-for-glass drinking contests. As I had presumed, our night began well enough...
We entered the Dark Horse Pub on South Street to the tunes of the Grateful Dead, and two chicks making out at the end of the bar. "This is my kinda place" I informed my cohorts, and immediately ordered a round of drinks and shots. We spent the first hour or so catching up on old times, making the same old jokes (which, somehow, still retain their humor), and staring at the two chicks as they locked lips, fell over their bar stools, and danced what i like to call "the drunk white chick shuffle". It was truly a sight to behold.
Boogie and I had pounded away at least 6 pints each and about 5 shots of jager bombs or as I like to call them, "Special Olympic Newbie in a glass" (thank you Tucker Max!) in under an hour, and we were feeling awfully sure of ourselves, so I invited Slutty Bi-Bar chick Number 1 (quite cute) and 2 (not really) over for a drink and conversation. I introduced myself and the rest of my running crew (sniper was stone cold sober, but the one shot and beer he had gave him the complexion of a homeless wino on a 40 dollar binge night; Boogie was singing the Sephiroth theme song of Final 7; and I was loquacious and idiotic--even more than is typical for me! In other words, we were a kick-ass group of young, sexy, heterosexual males and therefore quite irresistible to the opposite sex).
The girls sat with us for a while, we drank, talked, one of the girl's former boyfriend showed up and he and I discussed the intricacies of driving in New Jersey while Slutty Bi-Bar chick Number 1 go-go danced for our (mine, mostly) manly delight.
I could go on from here, detailing the bar-scene, but to be honest with you...it degrades as I do a few more shots and a few more beers. There's brief glimpses of further conversations, me dancing possibly, I think I almost got in a fight but the guy whose face I was going to rapidly and repeatedly accelerate into the pavement intelligently decided to avoid the poor odds (3 vs. 1) and continue to stumble down the street.
On a positive note, I decided to direct sniper through scenic South-west Philly to take us home. That ended up taking a good 2 hours longer than it should have. Through the ghetto. At 3 in the morning.
I'm a genius, I know.
And here's the cherry on top of the motherfucking Sundae: I had to get up and drive to work at 5am that same morning! I'll let you draw your own conclusions from that.
Here's a video to entertain you losers who need visual and auditory stimulation:
--HK_Newbie
First, my weekend began approximately at 8pm on WEDNESDAY night, thanks to gking's unprecedented coaxing: "Doc, let's go drinking in the city with Boogie!"
My reaction was one of surprise and superstition. Was gking finally setting in place the ambush he's always threatened? Would I be able to make it through alive? To my further surprise, our old buddy, Boogie, was ready and willing to accompany us to philly for a night of debauched drunkery. Let me explain this character known as "Boogie" to you: He's a playa (and a player) with a passion for women, games, and persistently TRYING to defeat my cast-iron liver in glass-for-glass drinking contests. As I had presumed, our night began well enough...
We entered the Dark Horse Pub on South Street to the tunes of the Grateful Dead, and two chicks making out at the end of the bar. "This is my kinda place" I informed my cohorts, and immediately ordered a round of drinks and shots. We spent the first hour or so catching up on old times, making the same old jokes (which, somehow, still retain their humor), and staring at the two chicks as they locked lips, fell over their bar stools, and danced what i like to call "the drunk white chick shuffle". It was truly a sight to behold.
Boogie and I had pounded away at least 6 pints each and about 5 shots of jager bombs or as I like to call them, "Special Olympic Newbie in a glass" (thank you Tucker Max!) in under an hour, and we were feeling awfully sure of ourselves, so I invited Slutty Bi-Bar chick Number 1 (quite cute) and 2 (not really) over for a drink and conversation. I introduced myself and the rest of my running crew (sniper was stone cold sober, but the one shot and beer he had gave him the complexion of a homeless wino on a 40 dollar binge night; Boogie was singing the Sephiroth theme song of Final 7; and I was loquacious and idiotic--even more than is typical for me! In other words, we were a kick-ass group of young, sexy, heterosexual males and therefore quite irresistible to the opposite sex).
The girls sat with us for a while, we drank, talked, one of the girl's former boyfriend showed up and he and I discussed the intricacies of driving in New Jersey while Slutty Bi-Bar chick Number 1 go-go danced for our (mine, mostly) manly delight.
I could go on from here, detailing the bar-scene, but to be honest with you...it degrades as I do a few more shots and a few more beers. There's brief glimpses of further conversations, me dancing possibly, I think I almost got in a fight but the guy whose face I was going to rapidly and repeatedly accelerate into the pavement intelligently decided to avoid the poor odds (3 vs. 1) and continue to stumble down the street.
On a positive note, I decided to direct sniper through scenic South-west Philly to take us home. That ended up taking a good 2 hours longer than it should have. Through the ghetto. At 3 in the morning.
I'm a genius, I know.
And here's the cherry on top of the motherfucking Sundae: I had to get up and drive to work at 5am that same morning! I'll let you draw your own conclusions from that.
Here's a video to entertain you losers who need visual and auditory stimulation:
--HK_Newbie
Friday, May 19, 2006
11:13 PM - Funny Vids
No one posts enough anymore. So my new plan will be to have at least one video daily for your enjoyment.
Monday, May 15, 2006
2:40 AM - Even more fun!!!
Friday, May 12, 2006
7:14 PM - Fun!!!
It's crunch time here at school so I don't have time for a real post. But here's some fun stuff to keep us all entertained.
Demo of "Beware The Water" off of the upcoming new Deftones album.
Me and JANE being fairly badass.
Clip from the legally halted "Chrono Trigger Resurrection".
Clip from Tekken 6.
-RaiNny
Demo of "Beware The Water" off of the upcoming new Deftones album.
Me and JANE being fairly badass.
Clip from the legally halted "Chrono Trigger Resurrection".
Clip from Tekken 6.
-RaiNny
Saturday, May 06, 2006
10:14 AM - Newbie's theory regarding the WORLD
Last night was a celebratory night. For Mexico.
For me, it started out like any other night.
Pulling into the wawa resulted in an almost immediate attack by roof ninjas (similar to regular ninjas, except they hide out on rooftops and drop down on me whenever I try to go out into the world) and drunken teenagers. The ninjas were easy enough to defeat with my shortie hogie, gatorade, and six shooter (.357 mag, 5 1/2 in barrel, Remington)...actually, the hogie and gatorade didn't help quite as much as the gun, but they were useful for killing my hunger and thirst (I love killing things that one normally wouldn't consider killing. It takes more imagination than plain 'ol killing).
The drunken teenagers were quite difficult however. They stood on and around my poor, beat-up cavalier and refused to move for some strange reason. Having used up all of my ammo on the previously mentioned ninja-attack, I was left with the difficult recourse of trying to REASON with these mental giants (read: living brain donors). Finally, it struck me: I should speak in a language they could understand!
"Cinco de mayo! YI YI YI YI YI! Tengo mucho nachos y tamales!" (I AM NOT MAKING THIS UP)
The group's collective ear perked up, accepted my words with a wisdom that comes only from massive amounts of tequila ingested shot-glass-by-shot-glass betwixt a chick's tits, and slowly moved away from my chariot of manly awesomeness.
...now that I think about that, it IS an excellent way to drink tequila. Hell, who am I kidding? It's the ONLY way to drink tequila! Happy cinco de mayo, BITCHES!
This video accurately depicts MY party night. Replace the power tools with pitchers of margarita and its like my weekend was put to song!
For me, it started out like any other night.
Pulling into the wawa resulted in an almost immediate attack by roof ninjas (similar to regular ninjas, except they hide out on rooftops and drop down on me whenever I try to go out into the world) and drunken teenagers. The ninjas were easy enough to defeat with my shortie hogie, gatorade, and six shooter (.357 mag, 5 1/2 in barrel, Remington)...actually, the hogie and gatorade didn't help quite as much as the gun, but they were useful for killing my hunger and thirst (I love killing things that one normally wouldn't consider killing. It takes more imagination than plain 'ol killing).
The drunken teenagers were quite difficult however. They stood on and around my poor, beat-up cavalier and refused to move for some strange reason. Having used up all of my ammo on the previously mentioned ninja-attack, I was left with the difficult recourse of trying to REASON with these mental giants (read: living brain donors). Finally, it struck me: I should speak in a language they could understand!
"Cinco de mayo! YI YI YI YI YI! Tengo mucho nachos y tamales!" (I AM NOT MAKING THIS UP)
The group's collective ear perked up, accepted my words with a wisdom that comes only from massive amounts of tequila ingested shot-glass-by-shot-glass betwixt a chick's tits, and slowly moved away from my chariot of manly awesomeness.
...now that I think about that, it IS an excellent way to drink tequila. Hell, who am I kidding? It's the ONLY way to drink tequila! Happy cinco de mayo, BITCHES!
This video accurately depicts MY party night. Replace the power tools with pitchers of margarita and its like my weekend was put to song!
© hk_newbie----Everything here is copyright of the losers that wrote it, by virtue of them writing it----