Friday: 6PM at my House
[Editors Note: Post Delayed, You will learn shortly why]
GuidesForRift Hosts the occasional blogger who would like to be known, is willingly associated or has no shame at all, or in this case as . Here is one such individual who has petitioned us so adamantly for so long that we have no choice other than a court order restraining order which we were unable to acquire. We tried. We tried very hard. We assume no responsibility for anything this moron says or does. We apologize for even having to host this or waste the internets time. We really apologize to you. We are terribly sorry.
First Post! Woot! Does some shaky nonsense with my wrists trying to seem gangsta `and.. ehh screw it. On the other hand.
Rock on. Its Friday. its raid night. Its is literally one of my seven favorite nights in the week. I mean, I love raiding, I love games, I love beer, I love drugs. The only thing that is missing is women. You know what, i think i may have actually met a girl online last week. Don’t tell anyone, I don’t want to spook her, but if all goes right, I’ll be hooking up with her within a week. Booyah baby! Oh raiding, yes back to it.
Its day 143 of raid progression for our guild group. 143 straight raid days in Tartaric Depths. consisting of 72 Thursdays and 71 Fridays of squaring off against this mean, bad ass, big mo fo’er named Beligosh. You see he’s a big colorful dragon at the entryway to the mines. No, correction he is a big ugly golem near the boat at the marina. Or is he big and gray? Is it the mines? Is there a marina in Telara? What the hell? Well darn i think there is a hill in there somewhere. Goddammit I know he breathes fire. Flames and stuff. He has big feet. That is all you need to know about dragons. But, you need to understand, I get in this dragons head every day of my life. That is what is truly important.
I try to think like this evil bastage, you know interoticate with his soul all day. I just dote on him and the huge mound of girth that stands between me and what i want all day. This starts the moment I wake up with that god awful hang over and witness the unbearable birth of the day. My day is an forsaken hell that just spirals getting worse and worse all day until, well until i started writing this. I just realized I have no idea why i don’t kill myself. except for the fact that i find it fun to kill imaginary creatures represented by pixels and whose being is stored in truths and falses. A brief moment of clarity entails in which i see, rather i imagine what they might look like, all my online friends. They are the real reasons. The amount of items in those pixels though, it makes a difference.
It took me a few years but eventually This is why i I end up at the liquor store. It could be why my morning was fuzzy. it could be the cocaine I bought or perhaps the angel dust I smoked with some random dude. Personally i think it was my first bottle of the day. The rest just gets me straight. i thought about Beligosh this morning before my coffee at some point for a little bit. You will have to excuse me a couple hours are a little blurry and I am not sure if that was because my head was spinning or it seemed like a few punches to my nose happened.
This memory makes me pause and my lips purse together hard as I try to remember. I put my hand up to my face like a giant hand gripped my face before pulling it away and looking at my fingers but there is no blood. Looking at my hand I realize i can see both sides of my nose looking straight ahead at the same time. It appears a little thicker. And bent. Holy shit why is my nose all fucked up? I bet i kicked someones ass! Its time to kick Beligosh’s ass!Good news I think elatedly, I can breath so i must be fine; I can still snort cocaine when i need to. That is the main purpose of my nose anyway and I need all the energy i can get because this might be a 10 hour session tonight.
My end seemed to stop spinning for a moment. A moment of clarity. How rare. Oh you sneaky Beligosh. What have you been up to. The sinister first boss of Tartaric Depths. The hardest boss I have ever faced in my life. He kicks the hell out of Absolute Virtue in Final Fantasy XI that all those pussies got sick over after just one 24 hour fight with him. We face him twice a week but each time is routinely do 14-16 hour sessions. i mean gather time is at 8 and we are done around 10am the next day.
This isn’t for everyone either. It gets expensive man. After spending 849-platinum on soul resurrection fees the first week i decided i should probably get patron status, it made sense at the time (Side Note A) and since this little incident i have been too inebriated to remember how to cancel it so who cares. The ony bills I have are my ittle apartment and my intoxicants.
The days of the week we don’t raid, besides my occasional court dates and outtings with hot women that i score with every day, we practice our craft. One day we are going to get picked up and sponsored, i know it man! So we practice! We do parses until our fingers bleed. We farm mats for all the vials, consumables and wardrobe appearances we need, We build long lasting relationships by picking on all the noobs in Tempest Bay with shit gear and making fun of all the elitists with good gear. We let em all have it cause we are the best. We work for it. It is coming. It is coming soon. Do you smell that? Its victory. Beligosh’s defeat in Looking For Raid as our first guild kill and world first will let all these mother fuckers know their place.
Wait a second, no, is my brain working that hard or is that the smoke that is put out for victory laps? Definitely smells more than just a fictional mental victory and more like something awful. My feet? Looking down the haze was getting pretty heavy but I saw i was wearing shoes so the smell should be contained. I threw a cigarette in the ashtray and grabbed my latest fifth. Screw that cheap stuff. I had accessed the give a penny take the jar and paid the extra fifty cents more for the good stuff. No more ass shooting, now i just had the terrible heartburn. But hey, when you have as many expensive addictions as I have and you can easily drink a fifth a night you have to keep things in perspective. I tipped the ass end up in the air and took a few swigs. I almost vomited everywhere, but hey, all part of the experience.
Wait, that’s not the bell of our virulent guild leader going off, that sounds oddly like something they used to talk about in school. Pocket full of daises? Wah Wah Wah? Stab the retard? Duck Duck Goose? Farmer and the Wife? Debbie Does Dallas? No,,,, its, i got it! Im fucking brilliant, Who is the man eh eh? its Stop drop and roll! That sounds familiar. Good ole’ Debbie does Dallas I got some stories for you i think as I smiled broadly. Damn it was getting harder to breathe for some reason and i must have like 10 cigarettes lit in here. Another bite of this french liqour will do the trick and i tip it back again … Stop drop and.. Is my hair burning? God. Oh God no.
Fire, Fire. what the hell is feugo i wonder to myself.
Ok time out. Real quick. Did you ever know that spitting out liquor on a raging inferno is a bad thing to do? The fire can follow the alcohol, which catches immediately, right back up into your mouth. So when I realized that my entire place was raging like a fucking Tijuana Bulls tequila asshole. I spit out my alcohol for my saefty. Now, genius, what the hell do you think happened?
[Feugo. Feugo!] Why the hell am i picturing a little mouse running around saying Arriba, Arriba! Andale, Andale! This mouse is doing like 300 miles an hour. He is wearing a lillte mexican hat. How exactly do you determine a mouses residency anyway? If a m ouse illegly crosses the border, do we fly him back. Who gives a shit? Holy shit, the hair on my toes just flashed flames. The air on my head, my chest, even my neithr ranges is all on fire.
“Aye Aye Aye no me gusto fuego! Aye Aye Aye!” i was screaming as I ran circles. If i had a baseball bat with my head on it I could not have run a tighter circle. These were virgin polygons. “Arriba Arriba! Andale Andale!” Come, Come, Lets Get out of here. I stopped dead in my tracks, forgetting the fact that I was in flames. I quickly glanced around and realized that yes, i was indeed on fire. In fact it hurt so much I am pretty sure I was screaming like a raped baboon. Thee was a long wrong to the nearest exist. The enntire floor was on fire, covered in glass or covered in nails. It was a good time to remember that i had recently started disallowing shoes in the house. Apparently i wanted to leave the huge stain from puking blood a center of attraction. What a moron. Now i get nails, glass and god knows what in my feet. Screw cleanliness. I choose less pain.
I jumped up and started running in a straight towards the only clear i could see yelling Fuego in my cheapest, most god awful Mexican accent. i high stepped, When i jumped, i gave my best morrocan head bounce. Iwas becoming a Spanish god. Come on girls, make love to me tonight. Well if my johnson was put out and was not completely melted. OH. Oh. Mr. Wanky is going to need surgery. Or a replacement. Can i go bigger. Oh yes this could work out. If i made it. No help had arrived for me in the last 30 seconds. They had to know this wasn’t MaxDam and wasn’t just some Mexican. I mean, i have nothing against Mexican’s but hey are not United Stateseaean, They are not American. Well that is north american. What the hell who came up with these terms.
i realized then that any Mexican would have gotten the hell out of there instead of catching himself on fire more. And getting himself caught up in toilet paper. Most importantly I got too far away from my liquor. My hair and face were on fire. My clothes, what was left of them were going out of style. I was pretty sure at this point that my balls and dog and melted off and i would have a plastic straw to pea out of the rest of my life. God, the worst of it, I lost my Tommy Hillfigure shirt. It was a classic. Someone will die. After i get hydrocodone. No oxycodon, No Dilaudid. Isn’t there a Bamboozledcodone? No, with this much pain i can call the president and initiate the mission. Get Me Pie Eyed. That’ it. Dr. Russo will prescribe me Heroin tonight. Prime MinisterWilliam Clinton has to approve it, and if he doesn’t i’ll call the Vice Admiral Goerge W. or Wonder Willie :because of his bent willy that made his wife and live in whore squeal like they were getting it in the rear] and see if he can get us home quicker by flying off the boat in the bay. We can take a taxi right to the runway. If not I will deball Putin with a spoon. One phrase just started repeating itself. “Im going to cut your heart out with a spoon!” “Because its dull you moron it will hurt more!” Oh god, Oh god no, I should have sharpened my penis before putting it in Elllen Generousness. Or maybe before i slipped it to her husband Snoopie.
Why was I so confused? My thoughts and recollections were firing off like a three headed arrow in a junkies closet. So, hold on, right out of my left hand and into my ass. Who the hell would shoot me in the ass. Red, Blood red moon in front of the white clouds in a blue sky. How pretty the red white and blue are. No. Police. Shit they might have spotted the smoke from the little fire-pit i had so carefully hidden. it should have hit me. Not only did I have a fire bigger than any seen in that side of the state in over 100 years, i was on fire. i could technically now be called sexless. I had lost some music. The other guys lost, well who cares they suck. Oh. The tvguide was gone. how would i find out what time CSI was on tonight so i could figure out how to hide this. I felt, completely whacked out of my head. I mean all i could think of was who the hell could be on the Ed Sulivan show this evening. Ja Rule maybe> He always was a hit with the proper english crowd, even moreso than classical Beethoven pieces.
Well maybe someone will hear about it. There is a line of at least 20 cars all with those pretty skylights above there head doing mach 20 across the desert. I tried to singal them with my lighter. Thinking back it was like putting a sparkler in front of a Hydrogen Nuclear Bomb and hoping the spakrler gets a policmans attenion. Thank god noone was around to see me cry like a little girl. Tears were flowing down my face and putting a temprary hold to the msassive number of fires on my body. Of course I am sure the news cameras got it all on tape when I ran out the door in my burnt underwear with , one eyed miniture mike shooting flames. Isn’t that nice that my ex always told me how cute it was because it was so small? She would call it Miniature Mike or Your pathetic dick or I’d rather feel an earthwrom shoved in me. That women wa a bitch. if the guys only knew she had gotten a 30000 dollar boob job so they could bounc on my face she would be embarraed.
I realized then the gravity of the situation. I couldn’te believe it had gotten this bad.The ambulance workers were feet from me. One thought just pierced my skull. My beer is getting warm. Holy shit, there are flames coming out the window. What window? The entire thing is one huge enferno. i took a couple huge breaths. I am a man.
More Mexican. Mexican’ Accents give me, a lowering of intelligence apparently. i yelled in my best “Speedy Gonzalez Aye Aye Aye! ondelay Ondelay Quireo!” i was a man on fire. I was inspired by my brevado and went on to inspire the troups. “Te gusta grande la Varga? Me gusto grande le varga en mi boca!” Look at what i inspired. They didnt look like inspired men. The only one who looked inspired was the one walking like his husband just nailed him. He was smiling and grabbing at his crotch. Fuck it. There was beer to save. In the enferno
I ran right back into that fire and rescued my old milwaukee. Best beer in the world. That drives phlegm. And a $30000 skin grafting medical bill. The pain meds cost more than my house. But wait. They wouldn’t even give me the pain medication. 99% of his body was covered in burns. He lost 35 puonds in burnt flesh. 8 broken bones. I had a man who thought iliked big dicks in my mouth attempt to stick in my bum. I am not in enough pain.But i looked across the street and this woman had broken a nail and had a bottle of 180 30mg roxycodone. Looking her over i noticed her knees were dirty. Her hair was messed up. “Chingate.” convince yourself. “Me guost la varga. Me gusto La vargo.” Off i went. Me gusto muerto.
I saved the beer. I saved the beer. What the hell was i thinking?
One week later, Friday, 6PM in the Homeless Shelter
This weeks entry has been canceled. Apparently I cannot commandeer the rescue workers internet for raid night. They are so lame.Oh but that wouldn’t matter. i cannot move one inch. In any direction. Did i mention i blew my doctor and got nothing? Oh no i did, a bribery charge. i even finished for him. Turns out that woman and gone out back and blown the illegal pill dealer. I told them to come rape me, put me out of my misery.
Side Note A
It did lead to some serious deliberation at the liquor store when i had to decide between the cheapest vodka and the cheapest rum one night when i was down to pennies. You know the day after i got paid. Damn lawyer fees. I mean bills. I had a choice: that vodka that makes your ass shoot straight flames or the rum will make your stomach shoot blood. Also to be noted rather cautiously and very loudly here is neither one will get you laid. Not even if you are paying for it. The only thing it got me was a drunken disorderly ticket and a 3 day ban for shouting “@#$32 you @#$32 @#$ @#” about 3000 times in 70 Chat.
I swear the customer service representatives have no sense of humor when you tell them how you want to make love to their mother like you were both 18 and into beastialyity. I mean, seriously, how do they think they were conceived? There is a reason they work behind a keybaord and are not allowed in public No One in their right mind would face their mother during coitus sober and without about 10 condoms on at once. And with all that thickness she was stil so loose you could drive a bus in there.Well besides me, that rum and a whole lot of whatever the police report said I had on me. I am to afraid to read the goddamn charges that occured that night and I am coisedering a serious lawsuit against that south american scum company. Oh yes, viagra, I told the customer rep i needed 120 viagra to screw her mother. I don’t care if it was a middle school intern i was talking to. Well, apparently police do. Two charges in one week. Not a good start to the year.
Don Rum, go to hell.