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Raised by Wolves

Gaki: writing myself Real

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It's not so much...

... that there are days when nothing I say makes any damn sense.

It's the days when I'm fully aware of it. Really, they should hang a sign on me, or something. "Faulty lucidity margin. Occasionally utters sentences in pastiche. Supervise at all times."

"Hmm, that Chai's probably a lot healthier than this coffee. But it just ain't the same."
"Yeah. Well, I was getting to the point of addiction with coffee, so you know..."
"Heh, I try and keep myself to one or two at a time."
"Coffees, or addictions...?"
(insert wrong answer here, and flee into the night, avoiding pitchforks and bonfires...)

Sigh. Here.

New Zelda Game delayed until next year.

Which is a shame, but until then (or at least for 20 minutes or so), you can amuse yourself here:

Hyspace: A Kingdom for Friends
I haven't played a Zelda game since Ocarina of Time, since through sheerest chance and twist of fate I've never owned a Gamecube. But if you happen to be a Zelda fan AND a Myspace user, this is gold.

It's a sad thing; the Lord Vader once had an aura of subtle childhood terror that permeated a generation of people my age; objectively speaking, he's always looked a little ridiculous, but the eight-year-old inside all of us knew that he was one of the bad motherfuckers of all time. Until Episode 3.

And now, this sort of thing will be all that's left.

I am in a strange, mortal mood today. I feel the writing coming, slowly, like fluid leaking under a new scab, like the smell of burning before a seizure. Best get back to chasing the wind...

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