<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1668845556100246045</id><updated>2012-02-16T14:48:23.593-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Random Encounters!</title><subtitle type='html'>An epic adventure filled with drama, revenge, and conflict! Follow the story of a man named Cait Sith, as he searches for the almighty quest reward!</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://randomtrocity.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1668845556100246045/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://randomtrocity.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Kait Sith</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01781625862371379653</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NGqSXBotxms/SNbgzxZlQrI/AAAAAAAAAAM/ssiZTT4m3wM/S220/092008+054.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>11</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1668845556100246045.post-596617834369690811</id><published>2008-11-05T16:49:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-06T11:07:20.147-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Episode 11: Final Fantasy X-2 Storyline Critique</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;MASSIVE SPOILERS FOR FINAL FANTASY X-2!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, I've had this game for at least 4 or so years, but have almost never played it. Until about two week ago, when I woke up and said, "You know, it's about time I finish the FFX series. Starting today." And so began my epic, 100 hour long quest to finish Final Fantasy X-2. It was rather embarrasing to play, I must say.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Final Fantasy X-2 Storyline (9/10)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The storyline of this game starts out rather slow, in my ever so humble opinion. How does it start, you say? So, 2 years after the events of Final Fantasy X, the ever-so-annoying summoner and female protagonist, Yuna, has suddenly become a scantily-clad popstar singer. A very bad singer at that. &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pdmJlbK-_r4"&gt;I don't want to describe the terrors of the unskippable-pop-song-laden-introduction, so I'll just post a link to it instead.&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anywho, Yunie, Rikku, and some random Auron/Squall-esque newcomer known as Paine, are spherehunters. And what do spherehunters do for a living? Why, they spend their time hunting for records of Spira, the planet's, past, through the collecting of spheres, which are pretty much disposable video cameras. Now, this doesn't sound like it'll make for a very good storyline, right? Wrong! It, rather surprisingly, I might add, does get really good...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, Rikku delivers to Yunie, of whom is in Besaid, a sphere containing a recording of someone who looks akin to Tidus from FFX. This is what makes her a spherehunter to begin with. Then, she goes of and finds another sphere containing a recording of some massive robot named Vegnagun, which resides under the once-religious capital of Spira, Bevelle. Yuna is like, "OMG VEGNAGUN IS EVIL AND TIDUS MIGHT BE NEAR IT LETZ GO DESTROY IT BEFORE IT SHOOTS SPIRA WITH A GIANT CANNONY THINGY IN IT'S MOUTH!!!" So, Yunie, Rikku, and Paine go off to the underground catacombs that just happen to be under Bevelle, and they don't find Vegnagun, but they &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;do &lt;/span&gt;find Dark Bahamut (say... didn't they kill DB in FFX International... &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;twice?!&lt;/span&gt;), of whom is oddly pissed off and attacks the party, of whom owns him. Severly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, now some pointless boring crap happens, and they find out that the guy that looks like Tidus in the sphere is really some dude that &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;just happens to look exactly like Tidus and just happens to used to live in the same place as &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;him 2000 years ag&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NGqSXBotxms/SRNAQDo7TKI/AAAAAAAAABA/8m4RCNHbAaU/s1600-h/FFX2CritiqueShudus.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 147px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NGqSXBotxms/SRNAQDo7TKI/AAAAAAAAABA/8m4RCNHbAaU/s320/FFX2CritiqueShudus.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265623033925291170" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;o&lt;/span&gt;. And, he gets control of Vegnagun, and, being very bitter about the old Bevelle troops that shot his girlfriend down (&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;of whom looks almost the same as Yuna when she's in her popstar outfit, which means she also looks like a prostitute, which I guess was common bussiness 2000 years ago in Zanarkand&lt;/span&gt;), and decides to release his anger by shooting down all of Spira with Vegnagun. Now, doesn't that just seem like a really stupid idea? Bah, whatever, evil guys never know the consequences of doing evil things until it is too late.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yunie is all like, "OMG TIDUS CLONE AKA SHUYIN IS GOIN TO OWNZORZ SPIRA WITH MASSIVE VEGAN GUN LETZ GO LIEK OWN HIM AND STUFFS WITH OUR VARYING OUTFITS THAT GIVE US SUPERPOWERZ!!!!11!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!11ONEONE!!!!1111" Rikku is like, "YEAHHHHH!!!!!", and Paine's like, "Whatever..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, you descend into the afterlife of Spira, which, somehow, Shuyin has managed to get Vegnagun. Once you arrive, Yunie gets this crazy idea, using love to seduce Shuyin into thinking that he's your boyfriend, then going in for the kill. The party goes off and battles Vegnagun in a &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;4 part battle which are all incredibly easy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NGqSXBotxms/SRM_BGLZmcI/AAAAAAAAAA4/-nSBpKkbs1k/s1600-h/FFX2CritiqueVegnagun.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 147px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NGqSXBotxms/SRM_BGLZmcI/AAAAAAAAAA4/-nSBpKkbs1k/s320/FFX2CritiqueVegnagun.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265621677397088706" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then, after owning Vegnagun, Shuyin comes out, and is seduced by Yunie. Then he's like, "YOU ARE NOT LENNNEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!", freaks out, whips out a sword, and attacks the party. Then is pwned in, about... 3 hits.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Somehow, Lenne walks out of Yunie after the battle, obviously suggesting that Lenne was possessing Yunie throughout the entire game (in my opinion, not really canon, but whatever) and struts over the Shuyin and is like, "OMG SHUYIN I LOVE YOU THANKS YUNIE!!!! LOLOLLLLOLOL!", then both Shuyin and Lenne disappear. &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=q2k9x6dPrEY"&gt;Yunie ends up seeing Tidus again, as portrayed in this cutscene. I don't really feel like describing their reunion, so click this link and watch the dang video.&lt;/a&gt; Just skip to the 3 minute and 30 second mark and you'll get past the credits.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Overall, I thought the storyline was really cheesy, but the whole thing with the Dark Aeons returning made me give it a 9 out of 10 instead of a 7 out of 10. I liked the story, but the overly-feministic values annoyed the hell out of me. &gt;_&lt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1668845556100246045-596617834369690811?l=randomtrocity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://randomtrocity.blogspot.com/feeds/596617834369690811/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1668845556100246045&amp;postID=596617834369690811' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1668845556100246045/posts/default/596617834369690811'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1668845556100246045/posts/default/596617834369690811'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://randomtrocity.blogspot.com/2008/11/episode-11-final-fantasy-x-2-storyline.html' title='Episode 11: Final Fantasy X-2 Storyline Critique'/><author><name>Kait Sith</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01781625862371379653</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NGqSXBotxms/SNbgzxZlQrI/AAAAAAAAAAM/ssiZTT4m3wM/S220/092008+054.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NGqSXBotxms/SRNAQDo7TKI/AAAAAAAAABA/8m4RCNHbAaU/s72-c/FFX2CritiqueShudus.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1668845556100246045.post-2189524774246695635</id><published>2008-10-14T15:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-14T15:38:17.228-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Episode 10: Petty Arguements</title><content type='html'>I'm now declaring that I'm writing this blog as though none of family, including my mum, is reading this. Just a warning, though - not much is going to change. Figured I should say that, however.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I absolutely love it when my mum and Dana, my quasi-stepfather, argue. Now, most people would say, "Why Seth, that's a horrible thing to say!", but, in all truth, you just have to be here to know how funny the stuff they argue about is!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes they argue about cleaning up the back porch. Here's some dialogue for you!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Dana] *hastily cleaning the kitchen with spazmotic movements as far as the eye can see*&lt;br /&gt;[Mum] Can you please clean when I'm done eating - your stressing me out.&lt;br /&gt;[Dana] If I don't do it now, it won't be done later.&lt;br /&gt;[Mum] I'll do it later.&lt;br /&gt;[Dana] You're not GOING to do it later.&lt;br /&gt;[Mum] Just stop cleaning.&lt;br /&gt;[Dana] HAVE YOU EVER HEARD OF A WOMAN THAT ASKS A MAN TO STOP CLEANING?&lt;br /&gt;[Mum] HAVE YOU EVER HEARD OF A MAN THAT QUESTIONS A WOMAN WHEN HE'S ASKED TO STOP CLEANING?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The altercation goes on for a little bit, with mindless rambling, until they both finally stop. I'm just sitting in front of the computer of which is oddly located in the living room at the moment, reading n00bs talk about how they can't seem to get the Zodiac Spear, and laughing away, at both the n00b's stupidity and the humourous conflict.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~~~~~~~&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://dothack.wikia.com/wiki/Sanjuro"&gt;Hey Sanjuro, if you are still reading this blog, click here! I lied, he's not really a gay samurai!&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You all stay classy! I have nothing else to say - goodbye world!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1668845556100246045-2189524774246695635?l=randomtrocity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://randomtrocity.blogspot.com/feeds/2189524774246695635/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1668845556100246045&amp;postID=2189524774246695635' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1668845556100246045/posts/default/2189524774246695635'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1668845556100246045/posts/default/2189524774246695635'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://randomtrocity.blogspot.com/2008/10/episode-10-petty-arguements.html' title='Episode 10: Petty Arguements'/><author><name>Kait Sith</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01781625862371379653</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NGqSXBotxms/SNbgzxZlQrI/AAAAAAAAAAM/ssiZTT4m3wM/S220/092008+054.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1668845556100246045.post-3072326267773601351</id><published>2008-10-08T18:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-08T18:41:40.058-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Episode 9: Just Wrong...</title><content type='html'>So, I'm sitting in front of the computer, playing some Final Fantasy Tactics: War of the Lions on my PSP, listening to the .hack//SIGN soundtrack. Then, suddenly, I get an IM from a friend, of whom will be called Aerith as to protect her identity.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Aerith] hey...&lt;br /&gt;[Kait] Hey, what's up?&lt;br /&gt;[Aerith] guess what&lt;br /&gt;[Aerith] ciara died&lt;br /&gt;[Kait] *chokes on ice cube in his cup of water* Say what?!&lt;br /&gt;[Kait] You are a lier! I don't believe you!&lt;br /&gt;[Aerith] ive been sobbing for the past couple of hours&lt;br /&gt;[Kait] Oh...&lt;br /&gt;[Kait] Wait, seriously?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I then call Aerith, of whom genuinely sounds upset. I'm slightly convinced, but don't forget that I have a Gullibility stat of 7, or I'm not that convinced.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Kait] Proof please.﻿&lt;br /&gt;[Aerith] C:\Documents and Settings\aerith\My Documents\My Pictures\scarrrry video! 008.jpg&lt;br /&gt;[Aerith] copy and paste it in the ionternet&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now this part makes me laugh hard when I look back at it.&lt;br /&gt;First of all, who the heck saves a 'scarrrry video' as a jpeg?!&lt;br /&gt;Second of all, how the hell am I supposed to see something saved on your computer on the internet - it's not like it's on a personal server, noob.&lt;br /&gt;Lastly, I love how Aerith mispells 'internet'. I always though she knew better...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Kait] Er... how am I supposed to access this stuff?&lt;br /&gt;[Aerith] nevermind&lt;br /&gt;[Kait] My god, I feel like such an a--hole - and to think the last thing I said to her is "What color is my shirt"&lt;br /&gt;[Kait] XD&lt;br /&gt;[Kait] So... how am I supposed to see these pictures.&lt;br /&gt;[Kait] You could email them to me.&lt;br /&gt;[Kait] caitsithiii@gmail.com&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wait 3 minutes. No response. I run downstairs to the kitchen and grab a can of Healing Potion, then take a swig of it - I forgot to restore my health earlier after a minor injury from football. I then dash back to the computer, and...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Aerith] http://i36.tinypic.com/4ru8o3.jpg&lt;br /&gt;[Aerith] don't click that&lt;br /&gt;[Kait] ...&lt;br /&gt;[Kait] ...er, what?&lt;br /&gt;[Aerith] never mind just forget i said anything&lt;br /&gt;[Aerith] okay?&lt;br /&gt;[Kait] Was that?&lt;br /&gt;[Aerith] just...you can't tell anyone&lt;br /&gt;[Kait] I truly can't believe that.&lt;br /&gt;[Aerith] her family is....just you can&lt;br /&gt;[Aerith] cant&lt;br /&gt;[Kait] Alrighty.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This also cracks me up. Who the hell takes a picture of their dead friend?! WTF?! And, she couldn't have made it any more obvious that the so-called 'blood' was actually ketchup. And the way she talks in the IM - my god, just spit it out already! This isn't Final Fantasy, you don't need to be so secretive! &gt;_&lt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Aerith] so..&lt;br /&gt;[Aerith] just don't tell teachers or anything in school&lt;br /&gt;[Kait] So...&lt;br /&gt;[Aerith] nobody ohkay?&lt;br /&gt;[Aerith] keep quiet&lt;br /&gt;[Kait] Sure thing.&lt;br /&gt;[Aerith] her family doesn't want to makwe it a big deal&lt;br /&gt;[Kait] Nothing will ever be mentioned about it.&lt;br /&gt;[Kait] And big deal?&lt;br /&gt;[Aerith] ohkay&lt;br /&gt;[Kait] It will show up in the d--m newspaper!&lt;br /&gt;[Kait] And why'd you tell me, of all people, this?&lt;br /&gt;[Aerith] she was murdered in our neighbors yard are you kidding me&lt;br /&gt;[Aerith] because i just needed to tell someone&lt;br /&gt;[Kait] ...&lt;br /&gt;[Kait] Oh.&lt;br /&gt;[Kait] I see...&lt;br /&gt;[Aerith] it wont be in the papers...her mom didn't want it&lt;br /&gt;[Aerith] the cops were told not to tell pplz&lt;br /&gt;[Kait] Alrighty.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wow. Just wow. It would have shown up in the newspaper, for god's sake! It might not have mentioned name - but the public needs to be informed somehow! Their could be a serial killer roaming around somewhere!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway... the conversation goes on for 30 minutes, with me questioning all the way and having no plot advancement whatsoever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I then get a phone call... I answer the phone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Kait] Aloha.&lt;br /&gt;[Aerith] Guess what?!&lt;br /&gt;[Kait] What now?&lt;br /&gt;[Aerith] I lied - it's a Halloween joke.&lt;br /&gt;[Kait] Wow.&lt;br /&gt;[Aerith] Did you believe me?&lt;br /&gt;[Kait] Only a bit - that was very unrealistic. You fail.&lt;br /&gt;[Aerith] Bye.&lt;br /&gt;[Kait] Wait, what? Don't go ye-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She hangs up. I put away my phone, somewhat amused. I walk down to the kitchen and grab another can of Healing Potion. I didn't really need it - but I was quite thirsty.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1668845556100246045-3072326267773601351?l=randomtrocity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://randomtrocity.blogspot.com/feeds/3072326267773601351/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1668845556100246045&amp;postID=3072326267773601351' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1668845556100246045/posts/default/3072326267773601351'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1668845556100246045/posts/default/3072326267773601351'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://randomtrocity.blogspot.com/2008/10/episode-9-just-wrong.html' title='Episode 9: Just Wrong...'/><author><name>Kait Sith</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01781625862371379653</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NGqSXBotxms/SNbgzxZlQrI/AAAAAAAAAAM/ssiZTT4m3wM/S220/092008+054.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1668845556100246045.post-8367536786530582694</id><published>2008-09-28T11:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-28T11:27:03.639-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Episode 8: Stickfigure Rising</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NGqSXBotxms/SN_MLHAx8FI/AAAAAAAAAAo/Kog7mXZeQ0w/s1600-h/img064.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NGqSXBotxms/SN_MLHAx8FI/AAAAAAAAAAo/Kog7mXZeQ0w/s320/img064.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5251140181770235986" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;During 'Bring Joor Child To Work Day' at my mum's job, I drew a crapload of video-game inspired pictures. This is one of them, based off of one of the best games for the X-Box 360, Dead Rising. I deserve a reward for my massive drawing skills.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1668845556100246045-8367536786530582694?l=randomtrocity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://randomtrocity.blogspot.com/feeds/8367536786530582694/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1668845556100246045&amp;postID=8367536786530582694' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1668845556100246045/posts/default/8367536786530582694'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1668845556100246045/posts/default/8367536786530582694'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://randomtrocity.blogspot.com/2008/09/episode-8-stickfigure-rising.html' title='Episode 8: Stickfigure Rising'/><author><name>Kait Sith</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01781625862371379653</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NGqSXBotxms/SNbgzxZlQrI/AAAAAAAAAAM/ssiZTT4m3wM/S220/092008+054.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NGqSXBotxms/SN_MLHAx8FI/AAAAAAAAAAo/Kog7mXZeQ0w/s72-c/img064.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1668845556100246045.post-4601257922451098712</id><published>2008-09-23T17:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-23T17:24:51.667-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Chapter 7: Foreign Rap</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dhVDKop5H1k&amp;amp;feature=related"&gt;French rap is awesome.&lt;/a&gt; Now, why would I, Kait Sith, post something as petty as &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IjQMM9g4ppU&amp;amp;feature=related"&gt;french rap&lt;/a&gt;, you say? Because I have nothing interesting to say at the moment.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Under normal circumstances, I hate rap &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;with a passion&lt;/span&gt;, but this stuff is just soooo funny sounding, that you can't help but like it!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Oh yeah, &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7H14nuSdE8w"&gt;japanese rap&lt;/a&gt; rocks too. Make sure you watch everything past 1:35 on that video, because the rest of the people have really funny voices and dance humourously! *laughs out loud hysterically*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;~~~~~~~&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Sanjuro, for some odd reason, during Earth Science class, told me that carbon dioxide is the fuel of the future.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Now, that seems like a somewhat good idea, seeing as how using pollutants as fuel is a very unique and ambitious idea, but what would come out as the waste product? More CO2? Seems like a waste of time, if you ask me, but he ignored what I had to say about it. Oh well, better luck next time...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1668845556100246045-4601257922451098712?l=randomtrocity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://randomtrocity.blogspot.com/feeds/4601257922451098712/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1668845556100246045&amp;postID=4601257922451098712' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1668845556100246045/posts/default/4601257922451098712'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1668845556100246045/posts/default/4601257922451098712'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://randomtrocity.blogspot.com/2008/09/chapter-7.html' title='Chapter 7: Foreign Rap'/><author><name>Kait Sith</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01781625862371379653</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NGqSXBotxms/SNbgzxZlQrI/AAAAAAAAAAM/ssiZTT4m3wM/S220/092008+054.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1668845556100246045.post-3364354014046681060</id><published>2008-09-22T16:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-22T17:04:29.417-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Chapter 6: Football?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Physical education. Oh how I hate the class - especially when we play that dreaded game of football. Ugh - I hate that game.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;So, when we first enter the gym, we get changed and run 3 laps. Then we do 30 jumping jacks, 20 crunches, 20 mountain climbers (where you get down on all fours and run in place... right...), and, finally, 10 push-ups. I usually only make it to 3 push ups, do to how much of a pansy I am.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;After that, we got a rundown on football terminology. Quarterback? Frontline? Guard? Touchdown? Bloody hell - the coach overloaded me with so much information on football that I can hardly remember a word that she said! Gah!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Then we went outside and learned how to throw a football. I think I might have been the only person that &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;really &lt;/span&gt;didn't know how to do this... shame how when I threw the ball incorrectly, the ball actually got to my partner. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Barely.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;I figured, for comedic effects, I would show my noobishness in sports by shouting a nice, loud, 'FFFFOOOORRRREEEE!!!!' Unfortunately, I did not get a chuckle out of anyone. Usually I do... while, not at this school anyway - those preppy kids just don't understand my silly humour. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Sigh.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;~~~~~~~&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Studio Art is ridiculous. Really, now, when in my life am I going to need to know how to draw a hand or vase or wine bottle that is realistically shaded?! That's just ludicrous! I can just imagine a situation now...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;NOTE&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;: THIS IS NOT A REAL STORY. I'M JUST MAKING THIS CRAP UP!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;I'm standing in the streets of NYC, minding my own business, when, suddenly, a cultist jumps out and pulls me into a nearby alleyway. He pins me to the ground.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;[Cultist] Don't say a word. Cooperate.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;[Kait Sith] *gagged*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;This cultist drags me down the alley for a couple minutes, until we come to a stop in front of a door with a large orange hand painted on it, with the words 'Rebirth' emblazoned underneath it. He kicks open the door and throws me in. I stand up, and notice a large amount of people in black &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;trench-coats surrounding me. A guy in a red trench-coat, holding a giant paintbrush, walks up to me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;[Kait Sith] *thinking to himself* He must be the leader of this cult...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;[Cultist Leader] Rise, thou mortal.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;I stand up, unaware of what fiendish things they'll do to me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;The Cultist Leader pulls a pad of paper and a set of sketching pencils out of his trench-coat, and hands them to me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;[Cultist Leader] Draw us a human hand holding a pencil, realistically shaded, and we will spare your life.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;[Kait Sith] *gasp* I wish I paid attention during Studio Art!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;[Cultist Leader] Tisk tisk tisk. Off with his head!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;NOTE: THE STORY IS NOW OVER!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Now, think about that for a moment. Will any of that ever &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;really&lt;/span&gt; happen? Probably not, just proving my point that Art class just isn't helpful. But, better safe then sorry, I guess...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1668845556100246045-3364354014046681060?l=randomtrocity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://randomtrocity.blogspot.com/feeds/3364354014046681060/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1668845556100246045&amp;postID=3364354014046681060' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1668845556100246045/posts/default/3364354014046681060'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1668845556100246045/posts/default/3364354014046681060'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://randomtrocity.blogspot.com/2008/09/chapter-6-football.html' title='Chapter 6: Football?'/><author><name>Kait Sith</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01781625862371379653</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NGqSXBotxms/SNbgzxZlQrI/AAAAAAAAAAM/ssiZTT4m3wM/S220/092008+054.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1668845556100246045.post-8999172915774225723</id><published>2008-09-21T06:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-21T09:28:51.222-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Chapter 5: Surprise Visit</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;I'm just sitting around in my room, playing some .hack, when I suddenly feel the urge to get a soda. I drop my controller, jump up, and run downstairs. What is down there, now that will blow my mind.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Somehow, an extra family and a half had found themselves at my house! Now, I was rather surprised to see them, but didn't want to stay downstairs, as I was in the middle of a boss battle, but I hung out with the group of people anyway, just because I'm that kind of guy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;One of the family members, of whom I'll refer to as Auron, has a MySpace. Oh god, I hate MySpace. The only reason I have a MySpace is to keep someone happy! And what is up with the spelling of MySpace!? It's just so tedious to type out! I hate having to hold down the shift key every few seconds!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Whoops, sorry, I went off into a rant. Anywho, Auron wanted showed me his MySpace, (I hate that word!) and I tried to explain to him how to search for him on this abysmal website, but, unfortunately, he did not understand. So he had to sign out of my profile, log in to his, and then search for &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;my name&lt;/span&gt; and send me a friend request. Wow. Just wow. You really couldn't have just done that on my profile, could you? Grr...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;So, after sending me a friend request, he tries to show me his &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;just horridly &lt;/span&gt;designed MySpace. Really, now, no offense, but if you can't design a MySpace (like me) don't fill it with dark colors and incredibly bright, clashing colors please. It hurts everyones eyes, and does not show off your 'mad designing skills.'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Anyway, I end up booting him off of the computer shortly there after, and log into my account. I start sending my friends some messages. Commentary followed afterwards, and not the kind I like.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;[Kait Sith]&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt; *typing away on the computer*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;[Auron]&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt; Is that your girlfriend?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;[Kait Sith]&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt; *still typing* No.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;[Auron]&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt; Who is she then?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;[Kait Sith]&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt; *typing still* A friend from Woodstock.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;[Auron]&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt; You like her!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;[Kait Sith]&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt; *now blatantly ignoring him* No.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;A silence then falls over the room. Then, another family member, of whom will be called Mistral, walks over to me. Another one-sided conversation begins.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;[Kait Sith]&lt;/span&gt; *hastily typing away*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;[Mistral]&lt;/span&gt; Is that your girlfriend?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;[Kait Sith]&lt;/span&gt; *typing!* No.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;[Mistral]&lt;/span&gt; Who is it then?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;[Kait Sith]&lt;/span&gt; *typing some more* A friend.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Thankfully, Mistral soon got bored and walked away. I say, are they are hoping that I get a girlfriend or something similar to that? Are they just betting quids on whether or not a ever get one? Woohoo, I'm a new form of gambling!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Soon after, the family left, and I got back to my boss battle. Woohoo. Oh yeah, and I won by the way.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;~~~~~~~&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Flag Races on .hack//MUTATION. I hate them. They are so hard - I just can't stand them! I spend so much time raising all three types of Grunties on the &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Llamda&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt; Server, only to find out that MY GRUNTIES SUCK! They all have horrid handling and acceleration! The highest I ever got on the rankings is 3rd place, which by no means gets me any stat-increasing items! Not at all. I rest my case.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;~~~~~~~&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;If some fonts appear too small on this website, then you are using Firefox, and not Safari. I'm not fixing the problem, because, really, the small fonts just compose humourous, non-essential material.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1668845556100246045-8999172915774225723?l=randomtrocity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://randomtrocity.blogspot.com/feeds/8999172915774225723/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1668845556100246045&amp;postID=8999172915774225723' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1668845556100246045/posts/default/8999172915774225723'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1668845556100246045/posts/default/8999172915774225723'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://randomtrocity.blogspot.com/2008/09/chapter-5-surprise-visit.html' title='Chapter 5: Surprise Visit'/><author><name>Kait Sith</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01781625862371379653</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NGqSXBotxms/SNbgzxZlQrI/AAAAAAAAAAM/ssiZTT4m3wM/S220/092008+054.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1668845556100246045.post-214589693154224799</id><published>2008-09-20T11:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-20T11:51:40.847-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Chapter 4: Life Needs Rewards</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;I feel that people deserve rewards for the stuff they do. For instance, I got a 100 on an English test. What did I get for it? A happy face on my paper. How boring.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;What I'm trying to say is that, when I do something amazing, whether it's a 100 on a test, running a mile in 8 minutes, doing 10 pushups in a row, graduating school, cleaning the litter box, cooking dinner, or going on a bike ride with my dad without anyone getting injured, I want some reward to be thrown my way. You know, maybe a happy fanfare plays in the background, I do a cool little dance move, and receive some special object. Preferably something like a pair of pants. EPIC pants. That increase my classiness by 15. That would be really, really, awesome.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Sadly, I don't get anything like this. Instead, I just get little pieces of paper with happy faces on it that add +1 to my self esteem and -1 to my awesomeness. How depressing...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;~~~~~~~&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;I have 2 bizarre, frequently used phrases. The first of them is 'you sand-blasted grease monkey!' I usually say that when I'm frustrated with someone. It flies out of my mouth quite often. This odd phrase originates from Wakka of Final Fantasy X, when he is angry with the Al Bhed for attempting to kidnap Yuna... again.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;The 2 of my favorite phrases, the one that is rarely used, is 'HOLY HELL!' I say that when I'm quite surprised. This phrase has a much more interesting backstory, involving what, if I recall correctly, was a game of Zombies on Halo 2.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;So, me and a friend, of whom shall be referred to as Courtesy, were hiding out in a room on one of the maps, away from the zombies. It was still near the beginning of the match, and only 2 to 4 people were zombies, explaining why were hiding and not shooting away. We're just standing around, waiting, minding our own&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;business&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;, when, rather suddenly, I should say, a zombie jumps out at us and stabs us with his sword. Courtesy's last words? 'HOLY HELL!'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;I found this amusing, and I claimed it my phrase, to only be used in situations of dire urgency and the like. And the fact that it contradicts itself makes it awesome.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1668845556100246045-214589693154224799?l=randomtrocity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://randomtrocity.blogspot.com/feeds/214589693154224799/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1668845556100246045&amp;postID=214589693154224799' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1668845556100246045/posts/default/214589693154224799'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1668845556100246045/posts/default/214589693154224799'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://randomtrocity.blogspot.com/2008/09/chapter-4-life-needs-rewards.html' title='Chapter 4: Life Needs Rewards'/><author><name>Kait Sith</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01781625862371379653</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NGqSXBotxms/SNbgzxZlQrI/AAAAAAAAAAM/ssiZTT4m3wM/S220/092008+054.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1668845556100246045.post-7956922408208731773</id><published>2008-09-19T18:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-19T19:15:02.036-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Chapter 3: The Storyteller</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;There is this kid in my Algebra and Earth Science class who has quite a lot of funny stories to tell. To protect his identity, I'll refer to him as 'Sanjuro'. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Anyway, he told this awfully bizarre story about his dad - I think. Apparently, while his dad was a wee child, his friends knew of a dentist with a crazy dog. The dentist didn't watch over this crazy dog, of which would oft chase after people. So, one day his friends shot the dog while the dentist wasn't around. Erm... was PETA around back then?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;I would write about more of Sanjuro's stories - but, alas, I don't remember the rest of his. I'll ask him some more later, probably on Monday, and post them here.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;~~~~~~~&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Almost every Friday, when I'm not departing for my dad's house, I go to this social gathering at a place called Tony's Card Shoppe. There is some silly little card tournament there - I don't actually participate in it - I just go there to hang out with my fellow nerds. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;I often sit waaaayy in the back of the Shoppe with some colleagues from school, of whom, to protect their identity, will be known as Miles, Big Mac, Triple Whopper, and Holdyerman. At the current time of writing this amazing post, I'm just returning from the Shoppe. We often be silly and chat away while I play ever-so-unfitting anime music in the background. Quite a blast, really.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;~~~~~~~&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;I'm still playing .hack//MUTATION. I'm too scared to battle a certain boss in the game, so I'm powerleveling to 50 before I battle this boss. Why am I too scared? It is a major battle in the game, and I don't want it to end up like the Skeith battle at the end of .hack//INFECTION. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Skeith was a jerk - that is all I have to say about him. A cheap jerk. I would hammer down on him with all my stuff, Data Drain him, and BAM! I would magically run out of Resurrection items and he would kill me. Usually he'd take off my character first, then the healer, Elk, and then the person that loves to waste my items, BlackRose. I battled the guy 5 times - to no avail. My solution to beating him? Power-leveling to 35. And then maxing out my Resurrections. Worked bueatifully - though I used well over 20 Resurrections during the battle...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;~~~~~~~&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;This is a really big spoiler for .hack//SIGN, or, really, the aftermath of it. Don't read if you want various things about the story ruined for you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;So, as some people may know, the main character, Tsukasa, ends up getting together with Subaru, the female in blue clothing, and leader (I think) of the Crimson Knights. How ironic that someone in blue would be the leader of a group,of CRIMSON warriors...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Anyway, in the show, one finds out that Tsukasa is actually a GIRL. So... if Subaru and Tsukasa are together, that means that they are lesbians, right? What a bizarre plot point - I never thought about it until recently, too.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1668845556100246045-7956922408208731773?l=randomtrocity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://randomtrocity.blogspot.com/feeds/7956922408208731773/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1668845556100246045&amp;postID=7956922408208731773' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1668845556100246045/posts/default/7956922408208731773'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1668845556100246045/posts/default/7956922408208731773'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://randomtrocity.blogspot.com/2008/09/chapter-3-storyteller-social-gatherings.html' title='Chapter 3: The Storyteller'/><author><name>Kait Sith</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01781625862371379653</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NGqSXBotxms/SNbgzxZlQrI/AAAAAAAAAAM/ssiZTT4m3wM/S220/092008+054.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1668845556100246045.post-5307488428710304760</id><published>2008-09-17T17:03:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-20T13:52:34.681-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Chapter 2: Janitorial Issues?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;It is around 12 on a Tuesday. Rather nice looking day. I'm eating some pizza - woohoo. Everything seems normal, until, rather suddenly, an acquaintance of mine, of whom will be referred to as Nullify Frigate, says, 'Seth, turn around!'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;I turned around, but not quick enough to see what happened. Nullify Frigate says, 'A man and a woman went behind that storage box over there!' Right in front of the windows of the cafeteria, about 15 or so feet away, lies a large storage house, filled with what is assumedly large amounts of janitorial supplies. Kind of like Willy's shack in The Simpsons.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;I stop eating the pizza, and just stare at the building for a good 5 or so minutes. The man comes out (unfortunately, by then, I'm not facing the window and eating my pizza again...) and gets into his car, which is conveniently parked in front of the building... but the woman? No where to be seen. He just sits in the car and does absolutely nothing. Lunch is dismissed, and, while walking to my Spanish class, ask Nullify Frigate, 'So, did anyone &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;really&lt;/span&gt; go back there?' He said calmly, 'Yeah.'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;I don't necessarily believe him, because I've yet to hear about any mysterious murders or abuse reports on the news or through the morning announcements at my school. Hopefully he was just being a dirty, lying, commie.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;~~~~~~~&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;I hate how sometimes I'll save a YouTube video on my PSP as a MP4 file, and it'll call it unsupported data. It irritates me, because the rest of the MP4 videos from YouTube work &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;beautifully, but certain videos *cough*episode5of.hack*cough* don't seem to want to work right. How annoying...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Another thing that bothers me about the PSP - it's game launcher. If you have your hands on the back of the PSP and move your hands in such a way that it lightly squeezes the PSP, the game goes flying right out of there. It has messed me up on several occasions while playing Crisis Core: Final Fantasy VII and AC: Formula Front, because I have to reinsert the UMD and wait for the game to reload, thus loosing my gaming groove that I've so painstakingly built up over the past 30 minutes of gaming. Quite annoying...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;One last thing to complain about. The analog stick. Wait, you can't even call it a stick - it's more of a 'analog nub'. The thing can be a pain to use, and recently it fell off while in my bag, of which led to an 'Aw bloody hell!' moment. The humourous thing was that fact that it was a false alarm - you can just stick the nub right back on. Wow - I felt like such an idiot.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1668845556100246045-5307488428710304760?l=randomtrocity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://randomtrocity.blogspot.com/feeds/5307488428710304760/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1668845556100246045&amp;postID=5307488428710304760' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1668845556100246045/posts/default/5307488428710304760'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1668845556100246045/posts/default/5307488428710304760'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://randomtrocity.blogspot.com/2008/09/chapter-2-storage-house-incident.html' title='Chapter 2: Janitorial Issues?'/><author><name>Kait Sith</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01781625862371379653</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NGqSXBotxms/SNbgzxZlQrI/AAAAAAAAAAM/ssiZTT4m3wM/S220/092008+054.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1668845556100246045.post-1047135616599818165</id><published>2008-09-17T17:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-18T13:33:47.724-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Chapter 1: Running Concentration</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;A couple of days ago, I had to run at least 1 mile in 12 minutes during Physical Education. I'm not quite athletic, but I know there is one thing I can do, and that is run. Now, for some odd reason, everyone seemed worried that they were not going to pass. Why? I haven't a clue - they are just a bunch of stupid noobs.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;So, anyway, I tried to make everyone un-tense. I talked in silly accents, ran backwards, sung, and other funny stuff. So, I ran by this one kid, who ran way more than 1 mile, and, being quite the nice person, said 'Hey, you're doing a great job, kid!' I expected a nice, giddy response, but instead I got something really snobbish.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;"Shut up, you are breaking my concentration."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Then said kid dashed ahead of me. When he was just barely out of range, I muttered, "Good day to you too." Mean spirited? Yeah, but well worth it. What the kid said to me bothers my mum a lot. But I'm not sure why...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;"&gt;~~~~~~~&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" ;font-family:verdana;"&gt;A couple of days ago, I started to play a really fun game, called .hack//INFECTION. 15 hours later, I beat it, and moved on to .hack//MUTATION. This might not seem like much, but, trust me, it was. Why? Keep reading to find out!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;So, I found out that the game had a couple anime series, so I started watching them on YouTube. One of which being .hack//SIGN.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;I started watching &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UKVlCVF9UII&amp;amp;feature=related"&gt;the first episode of SIGN&lt;/a&gt;. When the theme song started playing, I thought, 'Say, that sounds horridly familiar, and really catchy, too! Where have I heard this before?' I shrug this bizarre, somewhat foreboding feeling off, and keep watching the show. I continued to watch the intro, and I saw some part of it, that, for some reason, also looked incredibly familiar. Weird...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;About 10 minutes into it, the main character, Tsukasa, gets attacked by some guy, and was saved by this large golden orbish-thingy. This jogged my memory, and I made a sudden realization!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;It turns out that this show is the same show I once watched at midnight in 1st grade, when I woke up in the middle of the night. Though I'm not sure why I woke up, I'm sure it was probably so I could see this amazing show. What a weird coincidence.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1668845556100246045-1047135616599818165?l=randomtrocity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://randomtrocity.blogspot.com/feeds/1047135616599818165/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1668845556100246045&amp;postID=1047135616599818165' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1668845556100246045/posts/default/1047135616599818165'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1668845556100246045/posts/default/1047135616599818165'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://randomtrocity.blogspot.com/2008/09/chapter-1-seth-doesnt-understand.html' title='Chapter 1: Running Concentration'/><author><name>Kait Sith</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01781625862371379653</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NGqSXBotxms/SNbgzxZlQrI/AAAAAAAAAAM/ssiZTT4m3wM/S220/092008+054.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry></feed>
