|I hate living in the fucking ghetto.
||[Mar. 9th, 2004|03:15 pm]
At four AM last night/this morning while looking for a reason not to go to sleep, I remembered that I still have a friend's Marvel Vs. Capcom 2 on Dreamcast that I never play.|
Me: Why am I playing this? I hate this gay, unbalanced game.
Self: The only games they play competitively around here are this, and GGXX. You secretly want recognition as a skilled player, and since you're only good at KOF, you won't get any unless you move out of this country.
Me: You're saying I will play a game I hate just to earn tenure with a bunch of fighting game nerds?
Self: Basically, yeah.
Then I was about to experiment with some combination of characters (Suggestions welcome): Jill, Omega Red, Capcom, Doom, and Ken, Cyke, Rogue, or Ruby Heart when...
BLAM!...*Car alarm* BLAMBLAMBLAMBLAMBLAM!!!! Definately a .38 of some kind (I've fired them before and know what they sound like), RIGHT outside my house. So I turned the dreamcast off and went upstairs to bed.
Break into my house while I'm playing Marvel downstairs though, and you're will get dusted by my sawed off shot gun, punks.