Please Allow Me To Inflate My Intelligence At Your Expense Now That I Have Found Something You Don’t Know



Oh, you’re a programmer? CS major huh? Yeah, I could have done that. I majored in business. Yeah, I’m a big fan of Edwin Fleischman. You know, CEO of AmeriComputeCorp. I figured a CS major would’ve known who that was. He was really the inventor of streaming text over the Internet.



Oh, I can’t get into the specifics of it right now because I’m sure you know it’s such a complicated process. It involved some programming, but the real key to his success was his ability to watch market shares and to provide a turn-key solution that could interface with the scope of the project.



What programming language did he use? Well, you’re a programmer too, what would you have used? C++? Java? No, guys in my field use VB.NET. It provides a lot more power, trust me I know, I code. You haven’t used VB.NET yet? Whoa, you don’t know what you are missing. I wrote my first OS in VB.NET. It was pretty good, but I’m sure if I ported it to Javascript and ran it in the newest browser out now, Gojilla FlamingCat, it would put Microsoft out of business in a week.



Why, Gojilla FlamingCat? Well you should know the obvious advantages it has over every other major browser. Its ten-gig encryption plug-in provides more security. Also it runs on just about every OS. What do you mean that it doesn’t make any sense to say you can write an OS in JavaScript and run it in an application already running in an OS? I didn’t say that Gojilla actually had to load in an OS. It just runs in about any OS. They also have a bootable medium that you can start to run your JavaScript OS. Oh, never mind, you’ll just have to trust me on this one.



What do you think of the new peer-to-peer word processor they say is going to put Microsoft out in a month? Oh, you should know about this. Its code is currently labeled TOP SECRET but a buddy of mine got a copy and it takes HTML coding to a new level.



Hey I think that pencil is sharp enough by know, smart guy. What tha! Why did you stab me!?!?

The World Is Not Properly Aware of What Irks Me

By Hugh Jass, PHB



I admit I have a lot of pet peeves. Women, Democrats, women democrats to name a few. But you know what really bugs me most? When people don't know about the things that bug me.



I'll be talking with some stranger on the bus and I'll mention that the crying baby two seats back annoys me almost as much as Mexican drivers, and you know how much they annoy me. To which the guy responds, "No, I don't know how much they annoy you." Are you kidding me? Why are you so painfully unaware of every little thing that bugs me? So I gotta launch in to a rant about why Mexican drivers are the bain of human existence. It'll probably make me late for work too, hammering home every last detail about about the topic.



This is especially true about movies. For some reason, people don't seem to get that my opinion of movies is the gospel truth. If they disagree, they're not just wrong; they're stupid. Like when I was talking to my secratary about how the charts she printed up for the year-end meeting were rivalled only by Spielberg's A.I. she thought at first that I was giving her a compliment! Damn it, woman, you should know that not only is A.I. demonstrably one of the worst cimenatic disasters ever, but that good ol' Steven made it specifically and for no other reason than to get under my skin. I would've threatened to fire her for being so incompetently ignorant, but the higher-ups don't like it when I do that. I speak from experience on this one. That's another of my bothers: how I can't get rid of employees who disagree with me (and are therefore wrong and stupid).



Perhaps the worst violator of the always-know-what-irritates-me rule is my ex-wife. Whenever I go to pick up the kids for my one-weekend-a-month, she always gets them ice cream sundaes just before I come. That makes the little rugrats obnoxiously hyper by the time I get there. You'd think she'd know by now that it really annoys me, yet she keeps doing it. And she wonders why I left her for that 22-year-old blonde. Sheesh woman, get a clue.

Movie-a-minute Review: Hero

by Oliver Klosov, Movie Correspondant



*Spoiler Warning*



Ruthless Emperor: You killed the three greatest assassins? How?

Nameless Hero: Well, here's what happened.

Emperor: I think you lie. Here's what really happened.

Nameless: Not Quite. Here's what really happened... [hesitates].

Emperor: And...?

Nameless: Well, here's what really, really happened.

Emperor: So are you going to kill me?

Nameless: No. As cruel and evil as you are, it's more important that China be united under one evil dictator than split into several benevolent states. You hear that Taiwan?

Emperor: [Executes Nameless]

Audience: What just happened?

Sure is a good thing I lift weights

Cpl Vangoderhafersham

Earth Space Marine



Holy crap! My shotgun just ripped the head off that zombie-thing! Well, I better reload and get ready for something else. Hmmm… I’ll just reach down to my bandoleer of 97 shotgun shells. Now I only have 96. Jeez, this bandoleer sure has been getting heavy. I’ve carried this thing for the last two hours, and probably carried it at least 3 miles now. At least it wasn’t full when I started. I picked up most of the ammo as I went. Strange so much of it was just lying around. I guess I—



Oh crap! Die fowl demon scum! I better switch to my chain gun. That got him! Man I love the whir of that gun. Too bad I have to haul 500 rounds of ammo just to get 10 seconds of joy. Dang, I’m down to 264 rounds. Oh there’s some just lying on the ground next to some extra shotgun shells. Now where did I put that shotgun? Oh, here it is strapped to my back. Let me just, uh, well let me just strap the chain gun to my belt while I reload the shotgun.



Wow, a hidden area! What makes this area more hidden than any other area on this level – er I mean space installation? Well obviously that special little chime played when I walked in so it must be hidden. I’m sure someone somewhere is giving me extra points or something. A rocket launcher? Where the heck am I gonna put that? I wish I could find a hidden area with a super secret sack which I could stuff all my crap in and drag it behind me. Holy mother of all things beautiful in Cleveland! A box of 10 rocket rounds is heavier than --- well its pretty darn heavy.



It’s good thing I took that Space Marine sensitivity training or I probably would have sworn a second ago.



I think I see some badies coming. Let me just put this crap down. Now rocket launcher… gotta… get the ammo… out of the darn box… oh crap I just tore the packaging. Now they’re just rolling all over the place. Well, I’ll pick them up later after I fire the two nearest me. Wow! That’ll learn ‘em! Ain’t no power in hell apparently powerful enough to withstand a good RPG to the chest.



Now how am I gonna take all this stuff with me. It must weigh at least 400. My stupid body armor certainly weighs enough. Maybe I could ditch a couple of these first aid kits. How many wounds do I really think I can take? Besides that many shots of adrenaline would kill me if I took them all within the same 2 hour period.



Well it sure is a good thing I lift weights because I probably couldn’t even hold the chain gun if I didn’t. Well I guess I could hollow out the rib cage of that demon thing and stuff everything in it… I could drag it by the spinal cord? I dunno. Maybe I could find some rope and tie everything together and just drag it behind me? Too bad they don’t make more pockets for these pants or a bigger back pack. Oh fudge it. I’m gonna go play Boggle.

Point/Counter-point: Doom 3

Point: I Hate This Game!

By Fred Hicks, Doom 3 Player



COMPUTER ROOM, 3AM - Oh, crap did you hear that? I swear I heard something. Where was it? It sounded like it was coming from over there. Phew, there's nothing there. I could have sworn I heard something. There it is again. Did you hear it. It sounds like it's coming from... right behind me! There he is! Die you stupid zombie scum! Eat lead!!!



Oh sh--, that really freaked me out. Ok, I'm calm, I'm calm. Just have to press on. What was that? Did you see that? Up there. I could've sworn I saw something go crawling up that wall. There it is again over there! Eat lead! Oh, wait, that was just the shadow of something. Those boxes over there, I think. Those boxes and that mechanical arm, and that thing behind- oh crap! What the hell is that thing?! It's hideous! Die you SOB! Taste my shotgun! Weird, it disintegrated into ashes when it died. What the hell was that? It was hideous. It had, like, twelve eyes or something.



What's that noise? It sounds like someone talking. Is that one of the people I'm supposed to find? It's coming from this room over here filled... with... candles.... That's kinda weird. And there's some sort of symbol on the ground. It looks like a.... Oh sh--, it's a pentagram! What is that noise? It sounds like evil cacklinig! Oh, sh-- more of those things! Where'd they come from?! Die you mf-ing SOBs! Die! Die, die, die, die, die! Ok, I'm good now. Just need to reload all my guns. Ok, press on.



Something looks weird here. What's up with the atmosphere? It looks awfully thick and hazy. Ew, what's that guy covered in? It looks like... silk. Spider... silk. Of, f---, that's not haze, that's cobwebs! Oh sh--, oh sh--, oh shi--, oh shi--. Ok, stay calm. What was that? I thought I saw long spindly legs! Do you hear that, it sounds like it's coming from- all around me! Oh crap! Die, you spider scum, die! Say hello to Smith and f-ing Wesson! Go back to hell, you vile pieces of sh--!



That was seriously freaky. I hope I don't run into any more of those. Ok, where to next? Oh, wtf? What happened to the lights? Where are the lights? I can't see a thing. It's pitch black! Ok, stay calm. I have a flashlight. Oh, what the hell? Where's my gun? I can't have a gun and flashlight at the same time?! Oh, f---! Ok, I can deal. Keep moving.



OMG! What's with the f-ing evil cackling? Aaaa!! WTF are these things? They have two heads! Gotta use the shotgun! Ok, I've got my shotgun, just try to come near me. Crap, I can't see anything without the flashlight. What the-? I think I hear one. Die scum! Oh, crap, nothing there. Okay, where are you, you mf-er. Back to the flashlight- Oh, crap! There he is! Shotgun, shotgun, shotgun, where's my friggin' shotgun! Die you piece of sh--! Die! Die! Die!



Ah, sh--. I just crapped my pants. Third time tonight. This game sucks.



Counter-point: I Love This Brain- er- Game.

by Gurk, Zombie-Demon



UNION AEROSPACE CORPORATION, MARS RESEARCH FACILITY, 2145 - Grrrrruuuuughghghgh. Graaaarrrrggh! Grraaaaagh! Brains. Brains! Need human brains! Urrrg.



What you bid me, master? Who I should eat? Mrruuuugh! Human! Human brains! Delicious human brains! Come here, delcious human brains! *Rip, claw, shred, tear, eat eat*



Brrruuuuuugh. Brains good. Find more. Find more brains. Need more human flesh. Guuuurgh. Human! Come here human! Dark master wants you! I wants your brains. Your brains! Your delicious brains. *Rip, chew, claw, shred, eat, eat, eat*



Hhhgguuughgh. Must feed on flesh! Wait, Grok has flesh. Will eat Grok! Come Grok! Your flesh tasty! Grrraaargh! *Claw, claw, rip, tear, shred, chew, chew chew*

I Have Come To Soil Thine Toiletries



by Tom Adams



MARATHON GAS STATION (I80) - Weary am I and long have I traveled to thee, Tradesman of all things that smolder betwixt thine lips and Keeper of the Rasp towixt mine quest hath journeyed me. “Whence, now, bear ye thy hand in thine pants” say ye. As dost thine bobbish body lie betwixt the skies and those that dwell therein and the depths of the oceans and those that dwell therein, so upon my honor dost say I unto thee, I have come to soil thine toiletries.



Look not upon me now with brow turned down, O doughty costermonger. ‘Tis no loss unto thee that the passing of ducats for petrol take place not upon my arrival. ‘Tis plain that for mine quest mote I not have chanced upon thy fair petrol shoppe. Wouldst thee have reason to think me caddish then? Nay, deliver unto me the rasp for which I seek.



Alas I hath nothing to exchange for thy wittles. Harden not thy heart as mine bladder may burst asunder this very minute. Wilt thou not stand high and deliver unto me the rasp for which I seek? Let me go hither to the place of expulsion, for I fain will tell thee I bear not the boon thou askest me but paine beneath mine pants. Upon mine very soul, what hath thee better to do? What law dost deign thee not deliver thine rasp except to the procurer of petrol? I say unto thee that this law be not God’s Law, nor can I make it mine own. Hath I possessed the ducats to sip upon the milk of thine kine or sup upon thine wittles I would surely surrender them to thee. Speak now and pray show unto me that thine might of mind mote such answer bring as mine bladder dost seek.



Zounds! Wilt thou then gaze without caring upon me in mine unceasing paine? Alas, I doth peed upon mine pants. Fie! Fie upon thee and thy petrol shoppe! Ne’er againe shalt I journey to thy fluey gaole.

Quit Dodging the Tough Questions



By Tom Adams

EGAN HALL MEN'S ROOM (FU) -The American public undoubtedly feels the way as I do when we hear the political double talk. We are sick and tired of the same candidates every election cycle. Where is the choice? Where is the debate? Why do the liberal and conservative media give a free pass to their candidates? When will they ask the tough question: why do I not have $1.00 for a friggin Mountain Dew?

Sure John Kerry says he will stand up for a woman’s right to choose, but where is my friggin Mountain Dew? I think it is safe to say that this is apparently too hot a topic for a left-wing, flip-flopper to handle. Can a voter like me trust him with the Presidency if he cannot even address this issue? For all I know, he may compromise on a Dr. Pepper. That simply will not do.

George Bush says that he is the tough-on-terror candidate. Since September 11th, 2001, we have destroyed two oppressive regimes and cause a third to surrender its weapons outright. Bush’s domestic agenda, however, poses an obvious problem to the American public. Where is my Mountain Dew? Sure, he gave us a $200 tax cut. Between my wife and I, my household received $400 of our tax dollars, but that is only 400 20oz bottles. For most American’s like myself, that is one weeks worth of Mountain Dew.

We can debate the benefits of the 2liter over the 20oz versus the obvious ease of use and transportation. We could even debate my severe bladder infection due to not pulling myself away from the computer for 24 hours after I have drunk 15 Mountain Dews. We could even debate why Joe Belland has yet to get me my Coke, but neither party’s candidates has yet to fully address the issue either way. At least Nader offers the V-8 platform a voice.