I Noticed a Pattern in Game of Thrones

I just finished up Game of Thrones season 3 and I noticed a trend with the characters throughout the entire show.  It seems that the older a character is, the greater the likelihood that they’re a raging prick to everyone else. Without further delay, I give you, “Age vs. Being a Murderous Asshole” enjoy…

 

 

***********************HUGE FUCKING SPOILERS AHEAD*************************

 

 

 

THE END.

 

P.S. I can’t wait to get attached to whole new set of characters in season 4 so they too can die horrifically.

 

P.P.S. Thanks to The Oatmeal for the inspiration on this one.

Iggy and the Bag.

So there was this one thing I wanted to tell you about my new-ish cat, Iggy. We got Iggy as a rescue cat from a local shelter a few months ago. His name was Lewie, but we decided that name was lame and changed it to Iggy after a funny story I heard about a comedian and his misadventures with a bunch of Russian mobsters. One mobster was named Igor.

I found out very quickly that Iggy is a very stupid cat.  Not the kind of, “oh, that animal isn’t smart” variety of stupid.  This was a level of stupidity that I had not seen in an animal before.

For example, let’s take the simple act of training the cat to stay off the sofa…

And so on it went. Iggy kept finding new ways to impress me with his stupidity.

or, one of my personal favorites…

One day, I came home with some groceries. I set the bags on the floor and I started putting the cold items in the fridge. Iggy was fascinated by this development and started hovering near me.

I finished putting the milk in the fridge and I turned around to see this staring up at me from the floor.

I thought it was really cute that Iggy had nestled himself into the bag. I picked up the cat-bag combo to show Wife, who was seated on the couch.

This act was a HUGE FUCKING MISTAKE.

Picking Iggy up while in the bag did several things simultaneously.

1. It proved to Iggy that the bag possessed the magical power of levitation.
2. It showed Iggy that the bag was a force of mystical power and was probably linked to many unsolved mysteries of the universe.
3. Since he couldn’t move easily while being lifted in the bag, there was also a good chance that the bag was immobilizing him as a precursory part of its feeding process.

All of these things made Iggy very unhappy, very quickly. It became clear that to me that Iggy did not want to be in the bag so I gently placed him on the ground. Iggy immediately sprinted away from the bag. There was one small catch though; one of the bag loops became wrapped around his little kitty waist. No matter how fast Iggy ran, the bag pursued him just as hard. As you can imagine, this produced one single emotional reaction in Iggy: sheer, undiluted terror.

Iggy was sprinting so fast throughout the house that I had no hope of catching him. All I could do was watch in horror as my cat sprinted through the house at a speed only pure adrenaline could provide.

This went on for a solid minute or two until Iggy decided that fleeing wasn’t working so he tried to hide. Iggy threw himself under the couch in a last ditch effort to escape.

I eventually had to move the couch and unhook the bag from my poor, tired and scared-to-death little cat. Iggy then ran off to hide and recover from his ordeal. I went back to unloading the remainder of the groceries.

I put the eggs in the fridge and reached down to put the carrots in the fridge when my hand touched something warm and furry in the bag.

Stupid cat.

THE END.

P.S. Iggy was completely unharmed in this incident so don’t call PETA you wackos.

P.P.S. Iggy has since ruined my carpet, destroyed my TV and nearly killed himself trying to remove his collar. What this cat lacks in intelligence, he makes up for in sheer resilience & luck; I have to give him that.

Happy St. Patrick’s Day Internet!

In 400ad there was a man by the name of St. Patrick that went to Ireland and explained that whole Christianity thing to everybody. He spent thirty years on his mission trip and was revered as a saint several centuries later. Supposedly, he even drove out all the snakes in Ireland.

 

 

No mean feat for someone who wasn’t a wizard.

 

My question though is what happened to all the snakes and where did they go?

 

Maybe there’s a correlation between the disappearance of snakes in Ireland and England’s Great Snake Plague of 435ad.

 

 

HAPPY ST. PATRICK’S DAY!!!

 

P.S. If you’re in Chicago, they dye the river green each year… just found that one out.

 

P.P.S I also just found out that it’s a non-alcoholic mixture.

Look at What I Made For You.

Sorry for not posting in a while. The Doctor and I had to clean up some things in London.

When that was all said and done, he dropped me off back at my house… several months after my last post. Oh well, it’s that whole space-time thing. What can you do?

I’ve been perusing the Book of Faces (that’s what I choose to call it so you can shut your rich little face, Zuckerberg) and I’ve found some inspirational/ awesome quotes that I’ve decided to draw for you… enjoy.

“Go to Heaven for the climate and Hell for the company.” -Mark Twain

Meanwhile, downstairs…

“Once in a while blow your own damn mind.” -Anon

SPIRIT JOURNEY IN THE DESERT!!!

“Gold medals aren’t really made of gold. They’re made of sweat, determination and a hard to find alloy called guts.” -Anon

“Storms make trees take deeper roots.” -Dolly Parton

Dolly the Kingslayer.

“The poorest man is he whose only wealth is money.” -Anon

“In case of doubt, over dress.” -Anon

“If your kid needs a role model and you ain’t it, you’re both fucked.” -George Carlin

THE END.

P.S. Speaking of Star Wars, Disney recently bought the rights to Star Wars. They’re planning to do a movie entirely about Boba Fett.

P.P.S. I’m not a religious man, but if I did create my own religion Boba Fett would be one of my chosen prophets. If The Mouse screws this one up and shows The Fett in a light that is anything short of a supernova of undiluted awesome, I will declare a Holy Crusade against Disney.

Sorry, but Boba Fett in very near and dear to my heart.

I’m not Dead.

Hi everybody. So I haven’t posted in a while. Sorry about that. I had some really important self-reflection and heavy drinking to do over the past few months.

I’ve also had a wicked case of writer’s block too; stupid brain not letting me write stuff.

I think we (you and I) need to reconnect and play life event catch-up. Here’s what you’ve missed in the past month or three.

-I turned 28 years old. I am now one step closer to the Reaper than I was last year.

-This blog that you’re reading right now had it’s one year anniversary.

-This blog also hit the 3,000+ follower mark.

-Wife and I have been taking ballroom dancing lessons. My background as a male exotic dancer is really paying off. I have good balance, nice footwork and absolutely no shame.

-We got a new cat. His name is Iggy. We are now one cat closer to being crazy cat people.

-There was a hurricane. It was not fun.

I think that about sums it up. I can’t think of anything else that’s been going on that’s of note.

I did want to share this with you though; I was contacted by some folks over at MBA online. These folks help people choose online MBA programs. They recently made an infographic charting Nintendo’s rocket climb to the top in the past 30 years. I thought it was pretty good and wanted to put it up for you guys; hope you enjoy it.

I was such a child of the 80s/ Nintendo kid; I love this art style.

THE END.

P.S. It’s good to be back.

P.P.S. Also, don’t worry, I haven’t sold out to some other website to make money… that’s what the store is for. Now go buy something; I don’t get to eat caviar for free.

What School of Magic do You Prefer?

 

 

In keeping with our theme of wizards here at Live Nerd Repeat, I’ve decided to come up with a handy little tool to figure out what school of magic suits you… you know, in case you develop magic powers. Hey, you never know. Anyway, here it is so read on young wizard.

 

*click to enlarge.

 

 

THE END.

 

P.S. I really need to stop playing Skyrim… It’s really starting to permeate all facets of my life.

 

P.P.S. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go to the store and restock on alchemy reagents; getting low on garlic and vampire dust.

 

 

 

Bumper Stickers

*Ok so this first part has nothing to do with bumper stickers.

I haven’t posted in a while, but it’s been for a good reason.

I’ve been in training for my new job and it’s been pretty intense. Despite having no medical background, I now am somehow advising physicians on cardiology products and procedures.

Scary right?

Anyway, I’ve been studying really hard to make sure I don’t have a hand in accidentally killing your Nana.

At this point, I’d like to note that my restoration magic skill isn’t very high.

Destruction magic is more my forte’. You can see how I don’t want this scenario playing out to its conclusion.

Back to our regularly scheduled program.

*Alright, this is the part where I talk about bumper stickers.

For those that don’t know, I’ve spent the past three years living in Germany. Now, I’m back in the US and I’m trying to get used to our crazy little culture all over again.

One thing that I’ve forgotten about Americans is that we’re under the impression that other people really want to know what we think… all the time.

I often find myself surrounded by the unsolicited opinions of others.

I think this tendency to share is best expressed in the bumper sticker concept.

Think about it. When someone attaches a bumper sticker to their car they’re saying, “Everyone who is blown by the winds of fate and winds up stuck behind my car NEEDS to see this. This makes me happy.”

Bumper stickers are seldom seen outside of the US, so I’ve decided to put together a handy sampling of bumper sticker translations for my fellow countrymen & women.

Here’s what your bumper stickers are really saying, enjoy.

THE END.

P.S. Bumper stickers are now available in the Underwhelmer Store.

P.P.S. If you clicked the link above, then you found that there were no bumper stickers in the store, only sadness… lonely, infinite sadness.

Video Games Keep Proving that I’m an Awful Person

For those of you that don’t know, the powers that be have made a Walking Dead video game. Interestingly enough, this game doesn’t focus on killing hordes of zombies, instead the focus is on difficult decision making. The game is spread out over five episodes and your character, Lee, has to call some tough shots that will affect various aspects of the game and the other characters therein.

 

 

Interactive storytelling is a great area for games like this, but it does have a way of pointing out how awful of a person I am.

 

Here’s what happened last night while playing Walking Dead Episode II: Starved for Help.

 

*Minor spoilers ahead.

 

After a brief scuffle with some non-undead enemies, our five-person group finds itself locked in a cold storage unit.

 

Kenny, the casually racist commercial fisherman from Florida, and I are talking about how to get out. Lilly, the ex-Air Force de-facto leader of the group, is trying to calm down her dad, Larry, who is banging on the door and screaming obscenities at our captors. Clementine, the seven year old girl that I saved in episode one, is covering her ears trying to block out all the grown up words spewing out of Larry’s mouth.

 

 

As I wander around trying to find a way out of this refrigerated steel box, Larry, unsurprisingly, gives himself a heart attack.

 

 

Serves the fat prick right. That hatchet-faced douche tried to kill me in the last episode and now it’s coming full circle.

 

I grin and cross my arms as Lilly rushes to help her dad.

 

Lilly starts with CPR and I go to help. I’m glad Larry’s dying, but I can at least try to salvage the relationship with Lilly, right?

 

Kenny, with an uncharacteristic flicker of situational awareness, says this:

 

 

 

Now helping Lilly would’ve been a no-brainer, but earlier in the episode we discovered that the recently dead (regardless if they’re bitten or not) will always reanimate as walkers. This is bad; my grin fades as I realize that Larry is a 6’4” 300lb ticking time bomb.

 

 

Kenny uncovers the same line of thinking as me and continues with this:

 

 

 

 

 

 

I was presented with a choice; help Lilly save Larry or help Kenny smash Larry’s head in.

 

Larry was a danger to me about 75% of the time while he was alive. Now, he was about to become a 100% undead danger. We had no weapons other than a few 40lb blocks of salt lick.

 

I made the decision to help mutilate Larry’s still warm corpse in about .02 seconds.

 

I pull Lilly, kicking and screaming, off of her dad and Kenny finishes the deed by smashing in Larry’s skull with a salt lick block.

 

Lilly rushes back to her mostly headless dad and begins sobbing uncontrollably.

 

I think Clementine is sobbing in the corner too, but I’m not really sure though; I tend to lose track of her a lot.

 

 

 

I really wanted to feel sorry for Lilly, but it was at this point that I remembered that Lilly had been a colossal bitch to me the entire game; shouting, pointing guns at me, etc.

 

No more pretending to tolerate this person.

 

It was time to pour salt (get it? IT’S A PUN!) in the wound.

 

Instead of continuing to try to find a way out, I click on Lilly and initiate conversation.

 

 

There were four dialogue options to respond to this.

 

1. I’m so sorry, we had no choice.
2. Remain silent.
3. He was a good man.
4. Larry would have wanted it this way.

 

Without hesitation, I chose option four. It seemed to be the most psychologically devastating option as it implied that Larry would have wanted his skull obliterated by an 18 kilo block of sodium chloride. It was the perfect thing to say to Lilly mere seconds after what we just did.

 

It had the intended effect that I was looking for:

 

 

 

Kenny had to restrain her and I’m glad that the game didn’t require that I go through a button pressing sequence to help restrain Lilly because I had dropped the controller due to my fits of laughter.

 

I then saved the game and quit for the evening; mission accomplished.

 

THE END.

 

P.S. I played a little bit more this morning. I found that, in order to escape, I had to use a coin to unscrew the AC unit in the cold storage room.

 

P.P.S. I think I remember Larry saying that he kept some change in his pocket. Maybe I should ask Lilly if it’s in bad taste if I loot her dad’s corpse before it cools off?

 

What Twilight, Dating and Wife’s Job Search Have in Common.

Wife has been looking for a job for the past few months. Watching her efforts and looking back at my own job hunt, I’ve decided that looking for a job is a lot like dating when you’re over 40; everybody’s really desperate, but they’ve been burned too many times in the past to commit. As an added bonus, all parties come with their own emotional baggage.

There’s also the added difficulty of looking for a job in the Northeast. Looking for a good job in New Jersey is like finding a viable mate at Comic Con.

Should have gotten the number of that guy in the Spider Man costume.

Wife has gotten a few offers from a few different potential employers that she’s had to turn down. The jobs just weren’t good enough for her. They would have been the dating equivalent of a hobo.

This has been highly frustrating for us so far. It hasn’t been without a few laughs though. By far, the funniest job offer has been the insurance sales company that has been inviting her to seminars and informational briefings.

Extending the dating metaphor, this company’s displayed interest in people is a lot like the plot from Twilight; a powerful immortal being that is inexplicably and exclusively infatuated with a Mary Sue (I can’t even remember her name she was so uninteresting). It’s all entirely too good to be true.

Wife went to one of these seminars and they brought in their multimillion dollar winning insurances sales force and explained how all of the fifteen random attendees were the perfect ones for the job.

Kudos to Wife because she figured out the whole situation and discovered the vampire parallel very quickly.

So Wife wisely told Edward that it wasn’t going to work out.

She’s still looking, but, being the swell guy that I am, I’ve put together my top three choices to help direct her.

#1. Time Traveling Vampire Hunter.

#2. Naughty Nurse Assassin.

#3. Certified Public Accountant.

The last one is a compromise. That’s a word all you single guys should learn if you want to be a great husband like me.

THE END

P.S. Wife got a job this weekend!

P.P.S. No, it doesn’t involve skimpy outfits and monster slaying; that happens after her six month evaluation period.

Which Video Game Protagonist are You?

Hi everybody. I’d like to announce tmso as our Other Half of the Idiom contest winner! Here’s tmso’s winning idiom.

A bird in the hand is worth two in the bush.

A bird in the hand is worth two in the bush except when that bird pecks out your eye, then you only end up with one; one eye that is.

Thanks for the laugh tmso. Your reward consists of these two priceless works of art that I’ve applied to your idiom plus the undying adoration of the sixteen people who read this blog… you’re welcome.

*Now back to our regularly scheduled program*

Have you ever asked yourself, “Gee, I wonder what character I’d be if I were in a video game?” Well, you’re in luck because I made a thingy that tells you just that so read ahead and BE AMAZED!!!

*click to enlarge.

*that’s supposed to be the ocarina of time in the top right, but MS Paint only allows me to do so much.

THE END

P.S. Don’t feel bad if you got Link.

P.P.S. On second thought, you probably should. That poor guy has been through a lot of crap for one girl over the years.