If any of you have been paying any attention, you'd have notice I was gone. My laptop broke as well as all computers in the house, so I took refuge at the library for my computer needs. Unfortunately, a creepy man was there almost everytime, creeping me the hell out with his desire to sit near me, constantly taking glances at me, offering me his place when he was done, as if I was pretty enough to swoon. I did not share these feelings, however, so I never returned to that place. That is why I have been absent, but fear not, my loyalty has not waned like others before me, for the YouTube app on Xbox has kept me entertained with recent news and features by glorious GameSpot. It is what kept me sane, for there is intelligent discussion, news, entertainment... among other things, swiftly flagged and removed for it offends the gods of YouTube. I have not returned with a new computer, wishful thinking it may be, but rather a new source.

The title of this blog is implication enough, as Xbox's latest update has guaranteed the possessors of Xbox Live Gold to never tear away their eyes from their television sets. Internet Explorer for everyone! No, not everyone... not I. My own Xbox was not worthy of such things, not now at least. So how am I able to project this if I neither have access to a computer nor through my own Xbox? "... my own Xbox", a key phrase for fate has shined on another in this household, another wielder of Xbox. The owner away, I grasp, and create this very work you read. This is where this story concludes.

This entry will be dedicated to posting what I would want in a future installment of Fallout. It will involve descriptions of the story, what you would see, and such and such. Unfortunately, I do not have time right now to fill out any thoughts for now, but I will continue to edit this entry to contain more of my ideas.

Well, they are.

Itwaas 2AM in teh morening, and Rico Rogerigez or however spansih peopel spell that. He was filaying a super helocopter thta has 100 caliber mahcine gun on 4 sieds fo his helictoper and nuler neacle nukes. The chopepr had nuke misiles that coudl topple an total reigme or dictater. eh was then iht by eqwually nukelier sam. He then carshed onto the land taht weas ruled by evil: Taco Land. in Tcao Land, everyoen danced the hta dacne and they psoke spaishn. But also english because i;'ve nvere heard Rico say spasnihs I think. Maybe some of time. he has sexy accent, tho. On his way to fighthelp rebels, he used his garppling hook an used nukler hellloctoerp and fight enemy bad guys. cool spanish music was playing and the eye closed my is thoghut of the rest of story.

after winning the voting district tha eh wonwi th nukler hekicopter, he then crahsd into the mountons. but iw tas okay because he hadcool revovlers from first game so he had enuogh ammo. He then fuound road and stoled a car from argubly inocen civilan then cop came by and say WHY YOU STEAL and then rico said back I NEED TO KILL THE PRESDIENT and cop said back OKAY MOVE ALONG NOW and then Rico killed him becus eh had better gun. i sad argably innocent person becau im always fidning peoples runing from hlecopter that shot them

Unknowing to the cop he was CIA and so cop contiuned chase. He road his motercycle enough to catch up to Rico, but Rico was bieng an agressiv driver that he convincd traffic to turn on the cop and kill him with vehicles. It was night time and 2AM ocne agian. The birds were slepping and the sun was over. The moon was brihgtly and the rodea was hapening. He joined the rodeo to convince the poeples that the president was evil. So he rode bull,and rode it so hard that the bull died and then Rico ate it and the people cheered. The entire Taco Land army came by to shut down radio down, because Rcio was there. Not even the army coudl go up agiants Rico and so they all died. The president was there to pernsoally to put down Rico, so they had fight, but Rico shot and killed the president. YOU MAY HAVE WON THE ROADEO BUT YOU DIDNT WIN WAR and so he gots away to his nice mansion with nukler missles. ARGH screamed Rico at the president WHY YOU MAKE IT SO HARD

Then, Rico found his best friend elvis. Elvis said YOU SHOULD HAV KNOWN HE WOULD RETREAT GIVE ME FIGHTER JET AND I WILL WIN said back Rico. So Rico got in fighter jet and flew to secret island that had nukler misils. After destroying everything he parashooted down to president and fought him. WHY DO YOU WANT TO KILL ME said the president BECAUSE THE PRESIDENT ORDERED IT said back Rico. And they fought a plane and killed him.

This was the happy ending. But it isn't ovre because the amry still wanted and ruled Taco Land unless Rico had won the voting district. Rico then say EXPLODE JUST BECAUSE JUST CAUSE.

There comes a time and place when all things cosmic and universal come together, and bring balance. And then there's me. Perhaps. I am not the only one. There are other humans out there as well. Like my neighbors. And you guys! Unless you people don't really exist and are just preprogrammed AIs. Well, artificial intelligences do exist. They just function in virtual space. Virtual, because as far as anyone's concerned, it's all just information stored as electricity. But what happens if electricity goes out? You don't get your internet, unless it's satellite based, or your Wi-Fi wasn't affected. Of course, this is all speculation on my part. Don't quote me on that. Unless you wish to quote "Don't quote me on that." And that's what happens when you quote something someone already quoted as a demonstration of what you may or may not quote depending on the context and circumstance that anyone wishes to quote. I'm confused now.

I have posted some videos on YouTube. They are really just crappy webcam shows, with some rather poor editing. One has about 30 seconds of music, disconnected however, as they are split from the intro and the ending. It's not really an interesting 'show'. If it were, I might actually entertain you. In fact, it may very well entertain you anyway, despite how poor it is, and how I can't make a good webcam show. I don't even write it. It's just spontaneous. The schedules are erratic, and I have no idea what could make it good. Because really, I find my voice and personality to be uninterestingly apathetic. Look at me, I'm writing a blog and telling ALL about my internet show which is stupid and uninteresting. If you wish to watch it, go here. If you wish to listen to some pretty damn good tunes, go here. Well that's actually the second episode (the Gorod one is actually the intro and the second song), but it sure is hell more interesting that first one. If only because the first one is just a test. Maybe I should make response to other videos that I just don't give a ---- about. Maybe I should do so while mocking the subject or person who made the video. Yeah, I should do that.

In other news, last week, our puppy that you've never heard of, but I believe I posted a picture of (I can't remember), bit some child. Almost took his toe off, they say. I never saw the damage, so they could be exaggerating for all I care. Now, the puppy is in the pound, taken away for ten days. The price for getting her out is $100. That might not seem too much, but we're poor. Hell, we're not sure if we'll bother paying for it, which means it'll get euthanized. Let's see, from the puppies we had, we legitimately gave away 2, sent 2 to a shelter (as well as their horrid mother, who kept pissing on my bed all the time despite receiving harsh punishment afterwards). My guardian/roommate decided that putting one in the yard of her friend was a good idea, despite the person not being home or even possibly in jail. For all we know, it's probably dead. So that's one lost. We kept the largest one, not the preferred one, but blame my roommate. She doesn't think things through. If we don't pay up for that one, it's going to be another lost puppy. Maybe we should just stick to cats. Just train them to go outside or in a litterbox, leave food and water out for them, and they pretty much just take care of themselves. In fact, all we've been doing to out puppy was just ignore it. We've been treating it like we treated it's mother. Well almost. So far, and that is probably never, I haven't taken any harshness to it. The worst things it has done was continually use my bed and the floor as a restroom. We never actually trained, and I don't know how to train dogs. And that's the problem, we haven't taught it anything other than where the water and food it. Now, we're not sure if we'll be able to train it.

Maybe. I wouldn't know that. I have no inspiration to write something inane in recent times. Oh wait.

Jim was a soldier. He was so soldir, that eh kill evrey thirng in sight. He became the best of the all, as he was so ssoldier. His fren to the left of him was named Chuck because he like chuckin gerands all day, he had good throwing arm he bacamer dedicated Coleonel. Chuk said to Jim "I hoep you do not die on the battlredifle, because I need a good covre type person and i trust you only because you we became friends that are good and maybe have good days when we laufhg and try hard to get good." One day he want to battlefiled. He carrid assuairt rifle with gernade laucner ateachmat, and kill every thing he killd in sigt becuase they were bad peple adn then despite being so good at soldiering he became dead as it gets to everyone.

His final word was "I dide and ded teh best I COUld, but ehtn I did and i Foudn out that was horrible becaus somone was else better than me and he shot me so I codleu die by snueprers and then he died and became ghost to look aftr good throweing person Chuck" I am out to look aftre you my friend. I will see that you throw chuck grenades everywehre and kill bad guys everywehr becuse you good at your job". It was figured out that he became ghost man and looked at his friend Churck, the grenade man throwingman. I then tooks a dr. Peper drink and drank it and spilled it on keyboard and then Jim became soldris again and but he was not assialt rifle with grenade lauxncher type peorson anymore but rather a luanchr of rockets type soldrei with small machinedgun. He then became a real boy right beside Chuck, the thrower of chucking gradnes and said "JIM!!!!!! Why are you alive?!?! I throught you dead among the snow or junlge or whereever i am." But no it was "Why are you looking different today? Did you get a haricut or soemthing?" He looked different because he was in calss and the teachr taught him how to handle rocket launcher and small machine gun type weapons. And then he became a reality because so...

Jim and Chuck, the gernade tehrowrer had one the war against the russain spanish poeple kind of people at the snowy beach mountain jungle in the middle of the forest.THE END.

I had a dream. This writing is based on that dream. Note, the mentally insane person I have called Herbert Billings, and his "gentleman" aquaintance David Newell. I've also left an explanation of the events outside of Herberts mind.

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John Belushi was a great man. Not only was he the funniest comedian around, he was the funniest comedian ever. He won many awards for his work. I remember watching it all on TV. Unfortunately, in 1982, despite being invincible, he succumbed to his greatest weakness, alcohol. He was stumbling drunk, right into traffic, on the Las Vegas strip. He was hit by a truck, the very truck I'm driving. I bought it out of memory for him, which is also why I'm living in Los Angeles. His death is also the reason I quit drinking, and why I smoke so much. Trade one vice for another, I say. At least I'm clear minded when smoking.

I told you that story to tell you this one. It was an evening on the highway, when I found a mean old cougar. As a varmint disposer, it was my job to take it down. It was also during this time that a gentleman walking on the highway found me fighting the cougar. The gentleman wanted to help, but I thought it too dangerous for someone not a varmint disposer to take on the cougar. I took out my rifle and shot the cougar, but for some reason it wouldn't go down, but then I remember a statement made by John Belushi: "I fought a cougar once. As I was invincible, it too was. On these grounds, I decided he wasn't worth it to take a divine creature as my trophy. I let it live."

He let the cougar live, so did I. I didn't want to struggle killing an invincible creature, but the gentleman insisted that he do so, but I convinced him it was not worth it. I offered him a ride into the city, and he took the offer up.

As we were on the highway, I offered him a smoke. At first, he lit up and started puffing, but then he declared that he never smoked, and through a perfectly good cigarette out the window. His loss, it was better than drinking.

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In reality, John Belushi was not at all invincible, or divine. It can be argued that alcohol is anyones weakness, but John Belushi was not hit by a truck while he was stumbling drunk into traffic. Rather, he was found dead speedballing, an injection of both cocaine and heroine.

Herbert Billings is not right in the head. He was 24 when John Belushi died, making him born in 1958. In 1990, Billings suffered partial memory loss, but remembered the name John Belushi. He did not know him well, and started attributing his fictional dreams of Belushi to real life. Because of this, Herbert has looked upon John Belushi as a sort of messiah.

Herbert used to be a heavy drinker, but after dreaming up fictional exploits of John Belushi, attributing his death to drinking, he became a heavy smoker. The truck driven by Herbert is actually a family vehicle he inherited, a 1939 Ford pick-up.

Herbert being a "varmint disposer" is also completely made up. Because of his mental problems, he is supported by government checks every month. His younger brother takes care of him, cashing his government checks, and brining home dinner. He supports the household by working as a glass installer.

The cougar, however, is very real. Fortunately for everyone else, the cougar was hit by a car on the highway at night, making it too weak to defend itself and its cubs, but strong enough to roar at anything that seemed a threat. It died two days later from its wounds, and her cubs killed off by stray dogs. The only reason the cougar seemed invincible to Herbert was because he kept missing his shots, aiming upward. David Newell, the gentleman, decided it was not worth killing off a weakened cougar, leaving it to die on its own. It was on Newell's conscious later in the day that mercy killing it would have been best, and killing the cubs will have rid the dangers of wild animals in populated areas, a rising problem as the fear of humans has dwindled.

When was the last time I made a blog? October, September? I forget. All I know is that I've gone without blogging for a few months. "Why so long?" you whole-heartedly not ask. Well, because I don't feel like it. Yeah, I reached a grand total of 100 blogs, more or less self-depreciative, but those have accumulated over the years. I remember my very first blog, that, because it was so long ago, was deleted. It read something like this:

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My Favorite Music.

1. Rock. I like rock, it makes me happy on the inside, and down there.

2. Techno. Because I like listening to repetetive beats where people high on ecstacy and/or stupid enough not to realize it's another form of electronic music list this as one of their favorite music.

3. Rap. Because... I don't know, I thought acting like a gangsta gave you street cred. Not when you're like 12. Children are harmless, and if they think they're a threat, you better destroy their muscles before they can revenge upon you when they're older.

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Okay, maybe not exactly like that, but still. "Revenge upon you". Heh heh heh. I was pretty stupid back then, even going so far as to suggest to nuke France, "or at least the stereotypes". That's what happens when you're 13. Hell, I signed up when it was 6 months before I was actually eligible to sign up. But now I'm 18, I don't have a job, I don't really have a grasp on life, and I blame my father, who, if you believe in karma, actually got what he deserved. Why? Because he's a loser. Like I am. Sure, I have potential to fulfill my dreams and destiny and some ----. But currently, I am a loser. I'm fat; I don't do anything, which is probably because I'm fat and vice versa; and I can't even make it as a nerd. I don't play enough video games, I don't go out and buy music of my taste, and I certainly can achieve nothing that I've always wanted to plan out.

The only thing I can ever brag about is my beard, and that's only when it's grown. Because of school, I have to constantly shave it in the morning, in the car, being ------ed at by my driver (aka my guardian).

Hell, even on the political stage, as open as I am about my socialist views, I'm not a very good arguer. I just state my beliefs about a techno-progressive socialist society, and how much I hate conservative thought (and conservatives, but that's another discussion). Well, actually, I'm not vocal about that part. I just think things. Thinking is dangerous. Everytime I think about some magnificent idea of the future, I have to push it back twenty or thirty years just because I'm not so confident about present events. Liberals are winning, yay, now we can go onto social democracy and start development on transhuman technology. Conservatives made a decisive victory, ----, this country is going to hell, we're going to be stuck in a steady recession (or depression) until liberals are winning again (you know Democrats have fixed our economy time and time again, you should be glad they exist), then my confidence has boosted.

Maybe I'm too sure of my beliefs and should hold back on them. But what if something needed innovation and I had just the idea? Nothing happens. I'm not going to write a book. I'm not going to talk to head scientists and engineers. I'm just going to dream my own paradise. Funny, I wish that would happen just so the falters of reality will diminish from my mind and I can live in biss eternally. But where I profess socialism, where do I fit in a world that runs on the work of laborers that the socio-economic theory enacts? Nowhere. I am a hypocrite. Maybe I am an enacter of ideologies. I have no voice though, voluntarily speaking. What is one to do who is not willing to do or say? That I am unsure of.

So, I've had my avatar for about a year and a half/2 years. In case anyone doen't know who it is, it's Andrew Divoff in Wishmaster, a movie about an evil genie.

Keeping with the obscure movie motif, I've decided on a movie about a rock 'n' roll samurai, Buddy, from Six-String Samurai.

What do you guys think?