Advertisements

Category Archives: games

In which the blog gets a new, very fancy mascot

It’s been a busy weekend, my little pumpkin pies. Here and there and everywhere, I was. Whoo! However, after this weekend, things slow substantially to a crawl, which is nice. I mean, I still have THINGS, but they’re not CONSTANT things. Not like BAM BAM BAM THINGS. Which is nice. I might actually get to sit on my couch a little and have some hang-time with Dumbcat. I know he’d enjoy that. (He’s enjoying it as I type this, actually. All snuggled up to my leg and purring like a little furry motor.)

Friday I had to review a show. The show was…um…hard to sit through. Let’s just leave it at that. They can’t all be winners. (It’s nice to still get PAID when they’re not a winner, though. I like that part of it very much.) Then I got home and you would THINK a person would be like “write the review and go to bed, it’s so late” but instead I had about an hour left of a book I was obsessed with and so I decided it was a better idea to stay up mega-late and find out what happened. (I used to do this when I was younger, too. I guess you don’t grow out of things like this.) I told Dad this and he was all “THAT BOOK WOULD HAVE BEEN THERE WHEN YOU WOKE UP!” but I had to work on Saturday and I didn’t want to wait TWENTY-FOUR HOURS to find out the ending. I mean, seriously. (Review going up soon on Snobbery, promise.)

Then work all day Saturday (blergh) and talking to Andreas‘ face that night (ALWAYS a good thing, and even better, his most wonderful little girl made an appearance, so I got to see her, too!) and then Sunday…TOTALLY had an adventure, yo.

My wonderful cousin J. lives about 45 minutes away. She is a senior in high school and one of the most joyful people I know. She makes you feel pure happiness just being around her. And why wouldn’t you want to be around someone that makes you that happy? I predict the best of things for her in the world, I really do. She has the best outlook on life and she’s very grounded. She’s just fantastic.

So when I saw her last month, we made plans to see a play together this month. It was hard to find an appropriate show for a seventeen-year-old because I’m totally protective and didn’t want her to see anything naughty. Even though she’s probably reading this right now and laughing at me because I sound like an old lady. So I thought, Guys and Dolls is fun and bright and non-naughty would entertain her. Right? Right.

So cousin J. and her equally wonderful boyfriend D. came to visit (she just got her driver’s license. I have known this kid for a very long time. I remember when she was in footie pajamas coloring at her grandmother’s kitchen table. Her being able to drive is kind of amazing to me) and D. went to the mall to hang out and wait for us, and J. and I went to the theater.

The show was already mega-long, to start. I was worried poor D. was going to be bored out of his mind at the mall. He promised he wouldn’t, but we weren’t going to meet up with him for HOURS. That’s a very long time to hang out alone at the mall. Like, I get bored at the mall in about fifteen MINUTES. Then the play started late. REALLY late. (I feel there’s really no reason for that. It’s rude to your paying audience and it’s rude to your actors who are waiting for the show to start.) It was actually quite good (I’m a big Guys and Dolls fan; Adelaide makes me happy) but I think maybe it’s harder for other people to pay attention than it is for me. And the play was, as mentioned, VERY LONG. And J. leaned over and whispered that poor D. had gotten bored and was just taking a nap in the car. (I KNEW he wouldn’t want to be hanging out at the mall that long!) So I made an executive decision and asked her if she wanted to hoof it at intermission. She said “no, it’s ok” in a way that I could tell that meant “OMG YES PLEASE” so I knew it was an excellent decision on my end. (I filled her in on what would happen in Act II in the car. I was able to do this in 2 minutes. Act II was probably going to be about an hour or so. And I was able to explain it in TWO MINUTES. This may or may not be a flaw in the show, I decided.) I tried to encourage her to watch the movie (BRANDO! SINATRA! SIGH!) but I don’t know that I was successful. Aw, Brando and Sinatra are no longer a draw for kids today. This makes me sad.

Come on. These are some handome fellas, right?

Come on. These are some handome fellas, right?

Off to the mall to rescue D. from his car-based nappery we went!

J. and D. wanted to eat at Dave and Buster’s. I had never been in a Dave and Buster’s, but one just opened in our mall. For anyone who’s never been in this restaurant, let me explain: there is a restaurant (just kind of a basic burgers/chicken/bar food kind of restaurant) and then the rest of the place is UTTER CHAOS. Because it’s an ARCADE! With many games and Skee-ball machines and gigantic wheels of fortune and some weird game where you could play soccer against Homer Simpson and most of the machines spit out TICKETS!

CRAZINESS!

CRAZINESS!

And what could you win with the tickets?

CRAP THAT WAS NOWHERE NEAR WORTH THE TICKETS!

Oh, it was just the best. SO MUCH WAS GOING ON.

So we had dinner and talked and laughed and then it was ON TO THE ARCADE!

I was not as good at the games as J. and D. were. I think it’s a youngster thing. They have better reflexes. I was good at games that required very little skill, like a random game where I got to harpoon sharks, and a game where I had to match up fruit. Anything where I had to have coordination – no no, Charlie. Terrible at that. I used to be good at Skee-ball. Apparently that left me with my ability to stay up all night and ride roller coasters (I totally can’t do that anymore. I get dizzy.) One of the employees apparently liked my uselessness and giggliness and was playing the harpooning sharks game and gave me all of HIS tickets so I was totally racking up the tickets. J. was good at large-size versions of games that were on her phone that I’d never heard of in my whole life because I am not good at games so I had to take them all off my phone or I get obsessed with them and don’t get work done I need to do, like blogging. D. was good at shooting-animals games. (Yes, this is totally a thing. At the end of it, he got eaten by a very realistic bear and it made me gasp in fear. Back in my day, kiddos, we played Mario Brothers, and there was nothing SCARY in Mario Brothers that JUMPED OUT AND ATE YOUR FACE. Well, there were those koopa things, but they weren’t SCARY.)

When we were done, it was time for me to get home and “go be a grownup,” said J., which made me laugh (I know, I’m totally a grownup sometimes) and cash in all my tickets for VERY IMPORTANT BOOTY. I had my eye on something totally special but didn’t think I had enough tickets.

Look at all my tickets. Are you so impressed? I thought you might be.

Look at all my tickets. Are you so impressed? I thought you might be.

Imagine my delight when I did.

Meet…

YOLO HAMSTER! (And Dumbcat photobombing us while he looks for treats I threw on the carpet for him to keep him occupied.)

I have no idea what is happening here. This is a RANDOM HAMSTER with a YOLO HOODIE and it is TERRIBLE and I LOVE it. Seriously. This is like my blog mascot now. It has my least-favorite saying on it, and why is it a hamster? I AM IN LOVE WITH THIS THING. It was only a zillion tickets. (I’m exaggerating. A little.) I also got two Wacky Wall Walkers for The Nephew because I loved those things when I was little and I think he’ll dig them.

Did you guys get these in your cereal when you were little? I used to LOVE these things. They were the best.

Did you guys get these in your cereal when you were little? I used to LOVE these things. They were the best.

Yolo Hamster (I think I shall name him Harvey Hoodie Hamster) can also be a badass gangsta. Check it, yo.

This is how he wears his hood when he travels to THE hood. Ha! Get it?

Justin Bieber would totally dig Harvey Hoodie Hamster for his YOLO-ness but he’s all mine, Biebs. Don’t you even think of taking him. I worked HARD at those machines shooting sharks with harpoons to win Harvey Hoodie Hamster.

I was attempting to explain YOLO (don’t you feel like that should have an unneccessary exclamation point at the end of it? YOLO!) to Andreas and he said, “So that’s a hamster that only lives once? Like any other hamster, then?” and I think that’s really the best explanation of Harvey Hoodie Hamster there’s ever been. Harvey Hoodie Hamster will NOT be reincarnated. He really has to make the best of this one life he’s got. I would assume that would take the form of drinking a lot of Four Loko and knocking over convenience stores.

(You need to watch this, if you haven’t; it makes me laugh until I’m almost sick. EVERY TIME I WATCH IT. There are piranhas in saunas!)

J. and D. got a hippo and a box of Nerds with their tickets. That was with their tickets COMBINED. You really didn’t get much with your tickets. I tried to convince them to get another Hoodie Hamster but apparently, YOLO isn’t even COOL anymore. Who knew? (I did. I kind of knew. That’s why I love it. I love it in an ironic hate way.)

Isn’t she just sunshine? Sincerely. You cannot look at this girl’s face and not want to smile. She’s gorgeous AND she’s wonderful AND she’s kind and intelligent and funny. Good genetics in my family, you see.

I promise I did not take minors drinking. Those are our cups of many tickets. And YOLO HAMSTER! Seriously, he is just the best thing. (J. and D. are adorable, right? Totally are.)

Then it was time to go and there were all the hugs and J. totally texted me and asked when we could have ANOTHER adventure. Success! I am a very good partner in adventuring! (I think it’s because I haven’t quite accepted I’m an adult yet. Plus, these two are just the best.)

Time for bed for me. Adventuring makes one sleepy. Thank you, J. and D., for a most excellent day of fun. You are the best and I smiled so much my whole face was on smile overload. You are two of the most wonderful people and I loved playing all the games with you!

Off to sleepytime. Have a good week, people of the internet! I hope you aren’t too jealous of my YOLO hamster. Don’t break into my house to steal it. It’s MINE, and you just have to deal with that, yo.

Advertisements

Is that a blank in your pocket or are you…oh, it IS a blank. Huh.

Well, here we are. What day is this? Let me count on my fingers like a toddler. Thursday! It is Thursday. Huh. Look at this week fly by all willy-nilly. Lots going on this week. Three job interviews (which, by the time you are reading this, I am probably done – or at least finishing up.) One more lined up for next week. One of these people is going to hire me. THEY ARE. Even if I have to get that stupid The Secret book and get all mystical on the Universe’s ass.

I don’t like secrets. ONLY ASSHOLES KEEP SECRETS, BOOK.

(What IS the secret, anyway? Isn’t it just that you believe in it really, really hard and it comes true? Well, sigh. Just, sigh. THAT DOESN’T WORK. If it did, I’d be married to the boy I had a crush on in high school, a multi-million dollar writer, and have a whole menagerie of animals living in my backyard. Luckily, the things you wish don’t always come true, because the boy I had a crush on in high school, although still a handsome, handsome man, was NOT the correct choice for me, romantically. So sayeth his profile pictures on Facebook, where he is posing with things such as a tractor, a toilet, and a stand-up cut-out of Dubya. No, I’m not at all kidding. As you can see, we would have made it about three months before we’d have killed one another.)

But, yes. Interviews are happening. Slowly but surely. Most of them say it’ll be a couple of weeks before I hear anything more from them (and two of them have said that, and I’ve never heard from them at all – kind of rude, no? You never WRITE, you never CALL, I won’t be IGNORED, Dan) so I wait and wait and waiiiiit and time she keeps a’rollin’ on. In news of the unemployed, I am watching a LOT of television and reading a lot of books. I am a well-informed gadabout, if nothing else. Well, if by well-informed, you mean I know a lot about television shows that happened last season, which I’m catching up on, and also whatever books catch my fancy.

Important news stories I read today! Filled with chicanery!

Are you aware that there are totally National Scrabble Championships? There are! It’s true! I had no idea. Did you all know this already? I mean, I knew there were big championships for things like chess and I think I read about a Monopoly one, once, and I think there’s one for Magic: The Gathering. But Scrabble! No idea. That seems like fun. That would be a whole bunch of word nerds in one place. I’d enjoy that a great deal, I think.

I couldn’t win that. I like Scrabble, and I’m decent at it, but I don’t know all the words and I don’t have a strategy and I never can seem to get my words on those secret triple-word-score spots. I think to be good at Scrabble you have to have memorized arcane two- and three-letter words and you have to also see where they’d fit on the board and how you can beat the pants off the other person. Mostly I’m just jazzed I can find a place to put my letters and that there’s a game that celebrates vocabulary. I think I like to play Scrabble-type games online where you don’t have to compete with anyone more than I like to play against someone. I don’t like competition. I’m really a hippie, aren’t I? Seriously. I like that stupid Book Worm game you can play for free online because you don’t have to compete with anyone and if you win or lose, you have no one but yourself to blame (or cheer on, I suppose.) Also, the worm is cheerful. I like that a lot. I do NOT like that sometimes your tiles catch on fire because it makes me NERVOUS like a CAT. What, I have too much free time? You’re just noticing this now?

Oh, I’d win this Scrabble. I’d win this Scrabble SO HARD.

Anyway, yes. There is an annual Scrabble Championship. That’s fun! That’s totally fun. The winner gets some undetermined amount of money, depending on how many people enter, and there are random other prizes like board games and dictionaries. This all sounds like fun, right? Well, except for the competition part. That wouldn’t be all the fun. That would be nervous-making. You know everyone would be taking it all seriously and getting all shouty and maybe smacking tiles down all angrily and I can’t think straight when someone’s getting all crotchety like that. No, thanks. You can have your win, I concede.

Hee! Booyah, losers!

This year’s tournament was in Orlando. Guess what happened there? ALL THE CHEATING!

An adolescent boy was ejected from the the tournament for palming blanks. PALMING BLANKS! ZOMG THE HORRORZZZZ!

Nah, this isn’t shady at all. Happens all the time.

The article doesn’t say how old the kid was. I’m going to assume between – oh, shit, I don’t know, probably 15 and 19, right? He can’t be a KID. He wouldn’t have made it all the way to a tournament if he was a CHILD. Those words are HARD, yo.

Everyone was kind of suspicious-faced about this kid, because he came out of nowhere and he was doing VERY WELL. I think maybe they’re kind of Scrabble-snobs over there. If you haven’t paid your SCRABBLE DUES then they don’t trust you. Also I assume they looked askance because he was a kiddo. How can kiddos know all the awesome words? I don’t know all the awesome words and I’m a grownup lady. I mean, sure, I haven’t STUDIED them, but I’m still old and I don’t know them. I’ve had more exposure to them.

SCRABBLE SNOB!

Anyway, apparently when they were picking letters out of Heidi Klum’s magic button bag (FINE, that’s a whole different thing) the person this kid got matched against thought, SOMETHING IS HINKY HERE YO. So he started watching all seriously. And he noticed the kid was holding his hand all weird, and there were tiles tucked in his hand. HOLDING BACK TILES! FROM HIS LAST ROUND!

So then Suspicious Sam was all, “Judge! JUDGE! I CALL FOUL SIR!” and a judge came over all officiously and he said, “This young man is PALMING TILES.” The kid was all “Uh uh NO I AM NOT!” and a guy at another table was all, “Dude, that kid just threw two tiles on the floor.” Yep. The two blanks he’d palmed, apparently. WHOA! WHAT A SCANDAL!

He DID pick. All nefariously. Damn dirty trickster.

So the kid was escorted out and his opponents he’d beaten were given the wins and it was all probably super-embarrassing for the kid who was caught blank-handed. Guess he got what he deserved, though.

Why are you cheating at a Scrabble tournament? That seems all kinds of shady. It’s not like it’s the Superbowl or something high-stakes.  (Not that I’m denigrating these people – they probably work really hard. I’m not mocking you, Scrabble tournamenters!) But if you’re playing in something mental-based, you’re going to cheat? Really? That seems asshatty. And you’re not even cheating for anything but bragging rights, really. A pittance of money and maybe a donated board game. That’s like, nothing. And now you can never play again, and you’ve embarrassed yourself in front of everyone. Sad! You are sad. Also, is having two blanks sure to make you win? I don’t think it is. I mean, it gives you an advantage, but it doesn’t GUARANTEE you a win.

This is why I don’t like to compete in things! Competition makes me itchy, and then you have people who get way too competitive and shouty and then I shut down mentally, and then you have CHEATERS! Listen, I’m weird about cheating. I don’t care for it one little bit. Not one little bit! I think if you have to cheat you are sad, and also small. If you know you can’t win without cheating, then either deal with losing, or don’t play. There you go. Why does everyone always have to win? You should lose sometimes. It teaches you humility. It’s an important lesson to learn. If you go through life winning all the time, you aren’t prepared for the times you’ll lose. And you’re going to lose! No one wins every time. No one at all.

Maybe he thought he was a CHEETAH? No? Listen, I tried to give him the benefit of the doubt.

So there you go! Cheating. HIGH PROFILE CHEATING. Scrabble cheating! It is quite shocking and head-shakey, and we here at Lucy’s Football do NOT give it our stamp of approval. No stamp stamp stamp for you, Cheaty McGurk!


%d bloggers like this: