Regular Features
Rookie of the Year: Five Ideas For Temple Run, The Movie
The following is the latest in a series of journal entries chronicling the author’s descent into next-gen gaming degeneracy and assorted geekery – from getting his first television in years to trying to figure out why the @$@$&@@ you need two goddamn directional pads just to walk down an effing hallway.
Practical Misanthropy
There it was, shattered as if by a falling tree branch, except there were no trees nearby to do the shattering. Someone had pulled into my driveway to turn around and hit the corner post of my fence. They hit it so hard that they dislodged the concrete mooring and the force shattered the top crossbar, splaying the pickets out like pick-up sticks. Then they drove off. It was the middle of the afternoon.
Rookie of the Year: Who Wants Their Girlfriend’s Mother To Be A Millionaire?
The following is the latest in a series of journal entries chronicling the author’s descent into next-gen gaming degeneracy and assorted geekery – from getting his first television in years to trying to figure out why the @$@$&@@ you need two goddamn directional pads just to walk down an effing hallway.
Barnacles
If you’ve been anywhere near the ocean, you’ve likely seen barnacles – the hard-shelled crustaceans that crust over wharves and rocks and the hulls of boats by the hundreds. Once they attach themselves to a solid surface, they are there forever, resting when the tide is out, feeding on plankton when the tide is in.