Archive for the “Random Sar is Random” Category

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Behold, my terrible skill at using a mouse!  Worst eraser effort EVER.

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Today, I was pondering coming back to the game, and futzing around on alts.  Why?  Well, I had work to do, I was procrastinating, and I used to play WoW when I was procrastinating.  That and I need to stop going out and start saving money, and WoW would let me do just that.

What do you guys think?  If anyone even looks here anymore, I’d love to know your thoughts on the current state of the game, the state of the Warlock, and whether or not it is worth my while reactivating my account, or whether I should just spend my spare time shooting zombies and eating pizza like I have been… or whether I should try RIFT or something (although, really, could I possibly be arsed blogging about a new game?)

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Thought I should reassure you all.

I’m just busy fighting off the zombie apocalypse.

And trying to be awake at a time that I can call Blizzard support so I can actually play WoW.

I might write something meaningful in a few weeks.  Until then, thanks for sticking around I guess! <3

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(Totally not WoW related, sorry.  Probably won’t even make sense.  You’ll understand why at the end!)

Well, what Hellfire used to be before it got all wimpified.

So, stupid me came up with the following plan to deal with travelling this week:

- No sleep Tuesday night, to ensure sufficient sleepiness for Wednesday

- Sleep all afternoon/early evening Wednesday

- Leave home at 10pm, to arrive at airport at around 8 or 8.30.

- Win!

Step one went perfectly.  A very tired grouchy Sar rocked up to work Wednesday feeling exhausted and irritable.  Which meant that grouchy Sar reacted really badly when her day went to crap. Which meant that by the time she got home (late, because some asshat moved all the work she left for her students while she was away because people are inconsiderate morons who like to try and ruin her teeth by making her grind and gnash away so she doesn’t hurl abuse at them… or shoot them in the face with a shotgun.  They are lucky there wasn’t a shotgun around!) she was in a vile rage and did not feel at all like sleeping.

So, she went to bed at 8pm, and tried to sleep.  Of course, she started to drift off, then realised it was 9pm.  So, no sleep again that night!

Now, driving 10 hours on such a small amount of sleep, in a bad mood, is not a good idea.  Crap that can happen (and did happen!) includes:

- veering all over the road when your arms decide to die

- dropping the clutch like crazy when you happen to be in horrible stop-start traffic.

- actually realising your eyes are closing if you try to glance down at the speedometer

- then realising you are almost falling asleep every five minutes… thank goodness for that weird noisy bumpy paint that warns you about running off the road!

- misreading speed advisory signs for corners (mixing up 45kmph and 85kmph?  BAD.  If I wasn’t a half decent driver I’d be at the bottom of a cliff right now)

- struggling with pea soup levels of fog (hey, it doesn’t get that foggy where I live!  We don’t have mountains, valleys, or hills for the fog to hang around) when you can’t even keep your damned eyes open

- being completely unable to sing along to the most singalongable songs ever.  That’s when you KNOW you are tired.

I think Blizzard is secretly trying to kill me so I stop complaining about them.

And yes, that sentence is grammatically awful, but I’m too tired to decide which end needs fixing :-P

Sar’s brain, after 51 hours of no rest, signing out!

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Hi guys!

I’m kinda new around here.  I mean, I’ve been around for a while, but I’ve been a bit nervous about coming here.  It smells kinda sulfury, and I hear that the usual owner is a Crabby McCraberson.  However, I’m a brave wolf (regardless of what you may have heard otherwise), and I really do owe my Mum a thank you.

We all know how much Mum hates BRD.  Can’t stand the place.  “It’s slow,” she moans.  “It’s boring,” she whines.  “It always attracts the strangest people,” she mutters loudly.  However, this doesn’t stop her from running it time after time after time.  The only thing I can come up with is that she knows how much I like it.

BRD offers two amazing things, two things which can not be gained soloing:

1.  Hawt bitches who love to chase me around

2.  Unrivalled ass sniffing opportunities.

Seriously, the women love me in that place.  All I’ve got to do is walk in to the first room and they’re on me, barking and giving me love bites.  Sure, they might hurt a little… I guess that’s just the way they like it.  I came so close to taking one home the other day… then Mum shot her in the head.  Again.  Damn it.

… is it bad if she fed part of the dog to me later?  She was just as tasty in death as she was in life.  Mmmmmm yum!

Next time maybe.  Mum is a little protective, and she made remarks about diseases and things.  She doesn’t like me bringing strange girls home *sigh* (If you too are a hot bitch and you are reading this, I swear I am vaccinated!)

Bitches aside, I swear I have never smelt so much butt in my lifetime.  When Mum and I go out on our own, I don’t get much of a chance to have a smell.  It’s always ‘kill kill kill, business business business’ with her.  She caught me sniffing around in cities, so now she stays on her mount and hides me whenever we are around people.  It’s hardly fair!

There isn’t much she can do when we are grouped with Rogues though.  I might look like I’m attacking, but really… mmm delicious Rogue behind.  Dwarf Rogue butt is my favourite, personally (so deliciously earthy!)  Gnome Rogues, of course, are too low to the ground – I didn’t really want to smell the hair on your head, thanks anyway.

So, thank you Mum.  I do love how you indulge my proclivities.  I promise I’ll behave from now on… and I won’t ever pee on the King’s throne again.  Swear on my favourite bone.

Trajan.

See, this is why BRD should be destroyed.  That place sends you crazy – a good 20 levels of BRD runs on my Hunter, and this is what you get: a letter from a butt sniffing, hornbag dog.

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So, Twitter introduced this simultaneously awesome, yet irritating-as-a-Gnome ‘Follow These People!’ thingamajigger.

So far, I’ve found some cool people.  I’ve also found some people that I do not want to follow, not that Twitter gets the god damn point there.

But, today?

twitterisstoopid

What the?  Follow myself?  What sort of crazy world is this?  I mean, for starters I wouldn’t recommend me to anyone, ever.  I’m not all that exciting on Twitter (it’s the equivalent of watching a small child discover a video camera for the first time – when you play it back you get a whole heap of nostril shots, maybe something of the cat getting chased, and then more nostril before finally getting dropped on the ground and sat on). 

So, I’m a little offended that Twitter thinks my taste is so poor that I would even want to follow myself.  Seriously.  I follow quality, damn it…

Wait… does this mean Twitter thinks my follower pool is so small and straggly that I have to resort to following myself to bolster the numbers?  Seriously guys – that hurts.

Maybe Twitter has just realised that I spend most of my time talking to myself, and we may as well make it official.

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octopus

Y’know?  The One I mentioned here?  And here?  The one I want on a shirt?  The one that basically represents ME writing?

That’s him/her/it!

Unfortunately, no, it is not a psychic octopus.  Alas.

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friends

Tell me my eyes aren’t going… :-)

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Sure, it’s a baby sheep.  Regardless, it makes me feel sufficiently evil enough to actually talk about Warlocks without feeling like an imposter.  Seriously, I’m waiting for the day where someone points at me and cries out “Look!  It’s a MAGE!”  Then I’ll have to scurry away and take up a new life in Booty Bay (the place in the sun for shady people).  Maybe I’d join the Bloodsail Buccaneers… or I could just wipe them all out, and sit back on the beach on a banana lounge drinking a Bloody Mary.  But then, that could get misconstrued as a public service.

See, thing is, I am through with being nice.  I’m through with being useful.  When did people get this idea that Warlocks were all about providing a public service?  About doing people favours?  About helping out, for goodness’ sake?  So, no more.  I quit.  I’m changing my summoning stone to spew out random angry comments, not to actually summon people.  I’m going to break it, and have them get lost in the nether.  Or wherever it is they go through on their way to get their lazy arses to me.  And then I’m going to laugh, and make pithy comments about how they should have dragged their own fat butt to the raid.

Or I’ll just stop collecting shards so I can’t summon them.  Either one works!

As for curses?  No more utility curses.  Gone.  Off my bars forever.  I don’t give two hoots about your damage: you bring your DPS, I’ll bring mine, and we’ll go about our merry way.  Of course, you need to make sure you give me buffs, because that’s your job, damn it.  What do you think I let them bring you along for?

When you get that inane bunny pet out in raid?  Yeah.  I’m going to let Dagpep kill it and eat it.  He’s been a good boy lately, and I am tired of restraining him.  I think he deserves a reward anyway, just in case he isn’t the cool kid anymore when Cataclysm rolls around.

Warlocks: We aren’t your best friend, and we don’t want to hold your hand.

 

 

 

 

P.S. Please please please please PLEASE make us more evil in Cataclysm Blizzard!  I’ll send you cookies and stuff!  Or, alternatively, if you don’t, I shall rain firey doom down upon your heads.

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In game pregnancy.  Apart from the fact that I would be a bad mother (when I got my Sim pregnant, I phoned for an adoption – thinking I could give the baby away.  Turned out I got stuck with 2 babies!), there’s a billion zillion* reasons why it’s a really bad idea for WoW characters to ever develop the ability to fall pregnant.

1.  Raiding and pee breaks.

Life already sucks when certain members of your raid have to do the dash constantly to pee.  Could you imagine if your character needed to pee every ten minutes as well?

“Sorry guys, I have to stop healing”
“OMG WTF why?  /rageragerage”
“I have the ‘Busting’ debuff!”
“… seriously?  We pulled over at the Grizzly Hills toilet RIGHT BEFORE WE GOT HERE.”
“… never mind, now I just have the ‘Whoops’ debuff instead.  I’d suggest you stand at least 10 yards away from me”

2.  Death.

You die.  You run back.  You resurrect.
But what happens to the baby?  Is this how Undead are going to be created in the future?

baby-alien_1474492i I’m just a little afraid right now

3. Hax!

All the challenge of not standing in the fire is immediately lost if your water breaks right on top of it.
Yeah, Koralon, I’ll bet you never factored in that one, did you?

4.  Cravings

We all know that there is all manner of food to be had in Azeroth.  The question is, does the rest of the guild really have the time to fly around half of Eastern Kingdoms to satisfy your weird food requests?  Especially when we know that the minute they get back, you just aren’t going to feel much like eating that anymore.

Gee guys, thank you for getting those basilisk eyes for me!  They sounded really tasty…. about ten minutes ago.  But you know what would be really awesome? Goretusk Liver Pie.  And hey, can you go cook it in Molten Core for me?  The crust just comes out SO much better in that sort of heat…”

5.  Babysitters

I’ve seen what all you weirdos do to your orphans.  No way in hell would I be trusting you with my child.
(Actually, as a Warlock, I’ve got babysitting covered.  Voidwalkers are very maternal, didn’t you know?  And it’s not like he does anything else around here)

So.  In game pregnancy.  To be introduced in Cataclysm**.  What do you think?

* ‘billion zillion’ may be a slight exaggeration.

** Crazier things have happened, right?

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