I have many friends on Steam. The two concerned here are [Naked]Double and Chicago Ted. Ted and Double were also friends, but Ted got a little strange on Double and he deleted Ted from his list. Shortly thereafter, Chicago Ted sent me several minutes' worth of ranting and raving that he'd been deleted. A few days passed and I decided to drop ol' Ted a line and see how things were going. (has been slightly edited for explicit content)
G: It doesn't look like Naked Double wants to be friends at all
Ted: QQ
G: He was put off by you asking me to get his mailing address...
Ted: what?
Ted: wtf?
Ted: i never asked you to get his mailing adress
G: He gave me a PO box
Ted: and what
Ted: O.O
Ted: O.O i'm confizzled
G: I don't think they can fit candies and flowers in a PO box.
G: I guess you could always wait by that box for him to show up
Ted: O.O
G: Do you want me to ask him what time he gets his mail?
Ted: what the hell T_T im confused
G: PO box = Post Office box. It doesn't mean "Pissed Off" He's not MAD, he's just getting his mail..and a little wary of the possibility of stalkers.
Ted: O.O
G: I think your keyboard might be broken. O.O Say, I have him in voice chat right now and he sounds pretty miserable. I'm not sure how to console him.
Ted: O.O
Ted: ummm we can 3 way chat
Your chat with Ted is now a multi-user chat.
Ted: give me a sec
Ted: hes joining
G: Well, he's been mumbling about microwave popcorn, hot dogs and Cindy Lauper. It's also very hot at my house today, so I might be thinking about Andre the Giant instead.
Ted: U INTO WWE TOO?
G: No, I'm too small. You must work out.
G: I had this dog that had muscles once, but it bit my friend and the police came and got him. Not my friend. The dog.
G: Double hasn't joined us yet. He's still distraught over girls that just wanna have fun. Did you invite him?
G: He said that you showed up in one of his games after he deleted you as a friend. It apparently freaked him out, coming so soon after the breakup. He's concerned that you keylogged his IP and might be dousing his Firewall with AntiNorton.
G: I had a clanmate that tried that on this guy and he actually was able to take control of him as Bill AND check out his latest stock trades.
G: Ted, are you still there?
Ted: yeah
G: I was hoping to resolve this.
Ted: O.O
G: What is that? Hacker code?
Ted: im not a stalker tho
Ted: O.O
Ted: no
G: I'm not going to get hacked through Steam Chat.
G: I have McAfee's Steam Chat Hack Wall v 3.1.3 up, so forget it.
G: Did you get a hold of Double yet?
G: He hasn't left voice chat with me. Are you in his game again?
G: That might violate the no-contact order he filed with Valve. He also had to register with Mashoon, Snayke and Badger, LLC. I heard that gets repetitive. Are you still there?
Ted: he left
Ted: he had to go
Ted: dude
G: Hmm?
Ted: its not hacking if u follow somebody games
G: Well, it's not an Aimbot, but I'm a little creeped out by the hacker code you keep typing.
Ted: WAT HACKER CODE
G: I looked it up on Wikipedia, but they didn't have it
Ted: dude, no hacker code..
Ted: what makes u think im a hacker
Ted: srsly
G: You can't fool me into typing it and being a hacker.
Ted: dude
Ted: holy crap, its easy to join people games when they're not in your friends list
G: I have a clean machine, except for uTorrent, Daemon Tools Lite and the Dutch Rudder. warning: explicit content
Ted: u want me to teach u how i followed double?
G: That kind of stuff leads to hanging out at PO boxes. Did you read about the Korean kid that waited for an online buddy at a coffee shop?
Ted: DU8DE
Ted: OMG
Ted: LOOK ITS NOT HARD, WATCH ILL TEACH U RIGHT NOW
G: Apparently, when the other guy showed up, it was his dad and they fell in love.
Ted: O.O
Ted: look
G: shit
G: I got my firewall up.
Ted: you had double on his friends
Ted: i rightclick your name
Ted: and clicked view steam page
Ted: then i was searching people who were playing L4D to play w/ to
Ted: i came across double's
Ted: and i clicked JOINED
Ted: easy as shit
Ted: dam i aint no crazy bitch ass stalker
G: You're getting into things that cross the line between reality and playing L4D2.
Ted: omg, yeah i dont get this
Ted: i dont get whats going on!
Ted: tell me
Ted: please
Ted: im confused
G: I just want you to not hack me. I feel like a teenage girl in a Friday the 13th movie. One with a low budget.
Ted: IM NOT A HACKER
Ted: DUDE, HOW DO I HACK
Ted: T_T
G: I got hacked on once when i was in Kuwait. It's a sign of disrespect.
Ted: how do i hack
G: I assume by constricting your throat and compressing your diaphragm. You may even hunch your back. I think Double was scared and logged to get the police.
Ted: what?
Ted: dude wtf
G: He told me that someone was "breaking in and stealing his identity" whatever that means
Ted: dude wtf
G: Do you think if I started hacking, I could find out how he's doing?
G: o.O
G: Is that right?
Ted: i dont know, i dont fucking hack
G: My cat does. Double also said he was taking a break from l4D until he had something to protect himself
G: What did you say to him in that game?
Ted: i just said hey
G: O.o.O
Ted: O.O
G: Hacker code! I get it now.
Ted: what
Ted: DUDE WTF
Ted: VITAMIN
Ted: STFU
G: It's like an owl with a small beak
Ted: I DONT HACK
G: I'm starting to pick it up, I think. I should right click when I do it, right?
Ted: RIGHTCLICK WHAT T_T
G: The owl with the small beak. Should I hunch my back?
Ted: O.O
Ted: what?
Ted: what youtube video am i watching
G: Rickroll.
Ted: no
G: Double just showed up here. He's a RL friend here in Tacoma. You want me to put him on?
Ted: no dude
Ted: i dont get wtf is going on
Ted: jesus christ
G: hey ted
G: look i had to get away from my computer cuz my gf gets real odd about this kinda thing
Ted: dude, i dont hack yo
G: she's really into goth and lesbianism and totally against computers and is scared that they will take over
Ted: but i dont get it, why are u guys calling me a hacker
G: so when you follow me to my games, she gets real odd. last time, she threatened me with our old can opener. that shit gets old.
Ted: dude, i just went to view profile in vitamin G's friendslist, and clicked JOIN
Ted: easy as shit....
Ted: and your in the clan
G: when you call me a '(string of horrid curse words - edited)' she thinks that you're stealing our bank info bcuz that don't make sense
Ted: O.O
Ted: wtf
Ted: its just random words
Ted: dude, i swear
G: ok, she just called me and is pretty pissed. i need to get back over there.
Ted: but dude, i dont hack
Ted: T_T
Ted: i just put random words
G: All right, dude. He jetted. I can't believe that crazy bitch. Can you?
G: I mean...it's ELEVEN OCLOCK and she's calling for him.
Ted: idk man their life but still dude, i didnt do shit
G: Other than that, she's a sweet girl.
G: You should see her with her girlfriend, too. HAWT. I wish Double'd tape that shit and let me fap to it.
Ted: ....
G: Ah well. So, can the feds track what you do?
Ted: DUDE I DONT HACK
Ted: HOLY SHIT
Ted: jesus christ ya'll pissing me off
G: wht the fuck is wrong with my computer now? the key doesn't work nymore.
Ted: I DIDNT DO SHIT
Ted: GOD DANG
Ted: JESUS CHRIST MAN
Ted: EVERYBODY ALWAYS BLAMING ME ON SHIT
G: oh, but YOU cn type them just fine
Ted: I DIDNT DO SHIT
Ted: ....
G: i think tht i might hve virus
G: why?
Ted: omfg
Ted: screw this, im out
Ted: pissing me off
G: why dd you do ths t m? wht dd do to you?
Ted: I DIDNT DO SHIT
Ted: OMFG
Ted: SRSLY STFU
Ted: GOD DANG IM GETTING PISSED
G: m losng more letters nw sht cnt typ
G: wtf?
G: ... --- ...
G: O.O
Wednesday, July 29, 2009
Sunday, November 11, 2007
It's Been Almost a Year...
since I last posted. My wife asked me to make a cameo appearance on her blog, Down on the Farm with ChiknGirl, and hinted with emphasis that I should resume composing on a weekly basis. We'll see. I have two wonderful children that demand every scrap of attention I can spare when I'm home. On top of that, I am also Cheydinelle, the "Lore Master" of the guild "Tales of Ribaldry." It's a guild on the Horde side of the Darkspear server on World of Warcraft. If you have even the slightest inclination to being an addictive person, please, for the love of all that's holy, please don't start an account and play.
I still check Homestar and News of the Weird every week for updates. I still go to work as a millwright. I'm about halfway through my apprenticeship. I suspect that most of the folks that read my blog aren't from the same social circle as the folks I work with. Most of my coworkers would think that a "Blog" is someone's last name.
We actually have a guy that works with us whose last name is Blagg. It's really hard to describe him. He's rough, but likable. He's proficient, but prone to attract strange circumstances. It's told half-jokingly that "OW OW OW" is Blagg for "Stop!"
I haven't had much time to think about worldly things, with the exception of my recent bacon experience.
There IS a mouse running loose in our house, though. We never really saw him, we just started noticing small objects around the house that greatly resembled what I used to clean out of our hamster's cage. He's been around for a while, too. Sometime around April, my wife moved all of our foodstuffs to a different location, hoping it would keep the rodent out of it. We stopped seeing telltale turds and assumed that the bugger was gone.
Why would he just vacate? My two children drop enough food on the carpet to feed a third-world country. It was foolish for me to believe that a mouse would turn down a virtual cornucopia. It surely was.
Most nights, I am ensconced in the office, playing my games while my wife is downstairs knitting and listening to evening shows. A few months ago, I was alarmed by a scream from her. I ran downstairs to discover that she had seen the mouse. Over the course of a month or two, she continued to see it occasionally. I never did. She began asking me if I thought she was crazy and if I was humoring her by tearing the house apart when she saw it. I was convinced that she was convinced that she was seeing a mouse. But where were the leavings? Where was the nest?
When our movies arrive in the mail, I will sometimes join my wife for the evening and watch those films that are of interest to me. A few weeks ago, I was doing just that when I finally saw it. Skipping and jumping along the baseboard of our living room between the television cabinet and the old trunk in the corner. So!
I found some turds under the stereo cabinet. I put tape over a small hole in the wall nearby. I slashed the bottom of our couches to look for the nest...to no avail.
A week ago, I purchased a live-capture trap. A figured a pear would attract our guest, but after a week there was no caught mouse. So last night I switched to a garlic-flavored Triscuit cracker.
Well, this morning at breakfast, my daughter yells, "There's the mouse! He ran under the fridge!" Isn't it strange how "fridge" is the slang for "refrigerator?" There's no letter "d" in "refrigerator." Shouldn't it just be "frige?" I think most people would pronounce that with a long "i" sound.
I built a barrier of boxes to hem it in. I removed everything from the top of the frige...oops...fridge and moved it. I had to remove the back cover (unplugging it first, of course) and use a flashlight to search the electronics for its hiding place. I now know that all of the turds have migrated to underneath our fridge.
Aha! I spotted him with my flashlight! Well, I had to move my barrier a little in order to try and remove him from our fridge and, ultimately, our abode. Off and away he ran, right by me as I lept to my feet. He skidded to a halt to try and squeeze through the child-gate we have on our kitchen door and I took a wild stomp in his direction. I missed. Then I lost him.
I stood there, mystified on how that damn rodent had managed to disappear so quickly. I had kept an eye on him when I stomped, but he got to the other side of that gate and just vanished. I stood there with my flashlight scanning the area fruitlessly for a minute or two...and then I saw his skinny little tail poking out from under the pile of aprons I had placed in our short hallway. I placed myself in a position to cover him with a large plastic bowl and quickly lifted the aprons.
As big and strong and smart as we are compared to a mouse, they still have ONE good thing going for them; speed.
I'll get him. It's just a matter of time and patience.
I still check Homestar and News of the Weird every week for updates. I still go to work as a millwright. I'm about halfway through my apprenticeship. I suspect that most of the folks that read my blog aren't from the same social circle as the folks I work with. Most of my coworkers would think that a "Blog" is someone's last name.
We actually have a guy that works with us whose last name is Blagg. It's really hard to describe him. He's rough, but likable. He's proficient, but prone to attract strange circumstances. It's told half-jokingly that "OW OW OW" is Blagg for "Stop!"
I haven't had much time to think about worldly things, with the exception of my recent bacon experience.
There IS a mouse running loose in our house, though. We never really saw him, we just started noticing small objects around the house that greatly resembled what I used to clean out of our hamster's cage. He's been around for a while, too. Sometime around April, my wife moved all of our foodstuffs to a different location, hoping it would keep the rodent out of it. We stopped seeing telltale turds and assumed that the bugger was gone.
Why would he just vacate? My two children drop enough food on the carpet to feed a third-world country. It was foolish for me to believe that a mouse would turn down a virtual cornucopia. It surely was.
Most nights, I am ensconced in the office, playing my games while my wife is downstairs knitting and listening to evening shows. A few months ago, I was alarmed by a scream from her. I ran downstairs to discover that she had seen the mouse. Over the course of a month or two, she continued to see it occasionally. I never did. She began asking me if I thought she was crazy and if I was humoring her by tearing the house apart when she saw it. I was convinced that she was convinced that she was seeing a mouse. But where were the leavings? Where was the nest?
When our movies arrive in the mail, I will sometimes join my wife for the evening and watch those films that are of interest to me. A few weeks ago, I was doing just that when I finally saw it. Skipping and jumping along the baseboard of our living room between the television cabinet and the old trunk in the corner. So!
I found some turds under the stereo cabinet. I put tape over a small hole in the wall nearby. I slashed the bottom of our couches to look for the nest...to no avail.
A week ago, I purchased a live-capture trap. A figured a pear would attract our guest, but after a week there was no caught mouse. So last night I switched to a garlic-flavored Triscuit cracker.
Well, this morning at breakfast, my daughter yells, "There's the mouse! He ran under the fridge!" Isn't it strange how "fridge" is the slang for "refrigerator?" There's no letter "d" in "refrigerator." Shouldn't it just be "frige?" I think most people would pronounce that with a long "i" sound.
I built a barrier of boxes to hem it in. I removed everything from the top of the frige...oops...fridge and moved it. I had to remove the back cover (unplugging it first, of course) and use a flashlight to search the electronics for its hiding place. I now know that all of the turds have migrated to underneath our fridge.
Aha! I spotted him with my flashlight! Well, I had to move my barrier a little in order to try and remove him from our fridge and, ultimately, our abode. Off and away he ran, right by me as I lept to my feet. He skidded to a halt to try and squeeze through the child-gate we have on our kitchen door and I took a wild stomp in his direction. I missed. Then I lost him.
I stood there, mystified on how that damn rodent had managed to disappear so quickly. I had kept an eye on him when I stomped, but he got to the other side of that gate and just vanished. I stood there with my flashlight scanning the area fruitlessly for a minute or two...and then I saw his skinny little tail poking out from under the pile of aprons I had placed in our short hallway. I placed myself in a position to cover him with a large plastic bowl and quickly lifted the aprons.
As big and strong and smart as we are compared to a mouse, they still have ONE good thing going for them; speed.
I'll get him. It's just a matter of time and patience.
Sunday, December 03, 2006
Swabs of Death
In a fit of hyper-cleanliness, I tasked myself with the complete cleaning of two of my kids' straw cups. Normally, I run them through hot water and soap after each usage, which I once assumed killed off anything that my children might find objectionable. My sense of security regarding that matter has been demolished. I'm not saying it was "Man, I really demolished that plate of turkey leftovers" demolished. It's more like "and after that, it was dropped from an airplane tied to an M1 tank."
Let us view the culprits behind this filthy charade:
They appear to the mortal eye as fairly innocuous, don't they? Even when taken apart into their components, there is nothing to fear:
I spent about 20 minutes on these two cups, using only a touch of hot water when needed and a host of cotton swabs. The results were enough to ensure that I would quite staunchly refuse to drink from one of these contraptions unless it was either brand new or cleaned by yours truly.
Just in case your morbid sense of curiosity has not yet been satisfied, I did you the favor of selecting only the highest quality yuck-swabs and grouping them in one photograph. If these had been created as a by-product of ear cleaning...or in fact from the cleaning of ANY bodily orifice...I would have gone straight to a doctor and demanded an ear flushing/tooth cleaning/enema, etc.
One word: unappetizing. I'm not sure where this stuff came from, really. Is it garbage that I missed when cleaning them with my normal method that has built up? Is it leftover residue from my tap water that had taken up residence in the cups like a filthy family of cockroaches? Is my wife secretly trying to poison my children and drive me insane with disgust by injecting detritus into these drinking vessels?
In any case, these two cups are clean now. For now. I'll keep an eye out for any more buildup and make sure to eradicate it at first sight. In the meantime, I have to leave now and clean the other 465 cups we have in the cupboard, along with sanitizing my hands in a pool of hydrochloric acid. Good day!
Let us view the culprits behind this filthy charade:
They appear to the mortal eye as fairly innocuous, don't they? Even when taken apart into their components, there is nothing to fear:
I spent about 20 minutes on these two cups, using only a touch of hot water when needed and a host of cotton swabs. The results were enough to ensure that I would quite staunchly refuse to drink from one of these contraptions unless it was either brand new or cleaned by yours truly.
Just in case your morbid sense of curiosity has not yet been satisfied, I did you the favor of selecting only the highest quality yuck-swabs and grouping them in one photograph. If these had been created as a by-product of ear cleaning...or in fact from the cleaning of ANY bodily orifice...I would have gone straight to a doctor and demanded an ear flushing/tooth cleaning/enema, etc.
One word: unappetizing. I'm not sure where this stuff came from, really. Is it garbage that I missed when cleaning them with my normal method that has built up? Is it leftover residue from my tap water that had taken up residence in the cups like a filthy family of cockroaches? Is my wife secretly trying to poison my children and drive me insane with disgust by injecting detritus into these drinking vessels?
In any case, these two cups are clean now. For now. I'll keep an eye out for any more buildup and make sure to eradicate it at first sight. In the meantime, I have to leave now and clean the other 465 cups we have in the cupboard, along with sanitizing my hands in a pool of hydrochloric acid. Good day!
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