Worst Roommates Ever

It’s that time of year once again. Time for everyone to come together with friends and family, wear ugly sweaters and drink apple juice with sticks in it while giving gifts that, if we had all decided to just buy things for instead of telling other people what we want, would end up costing us the same amount of money without the anxiety of whether or not they’ll like it (and think of all the paper we’d conserve not needing to print gift receipts).

But more than that, its time for the onslaught of horrible, god-awful abominations that are Christmas movies. Gone are the days of Rudolph and Frosty, in all their claymation filled glory. Now are the times of hastily written single joke concept movies starring whatever two fairly attractive Hollywood stars feel like adding a “romantic holiday family comedy” to their IMDB page. Think about it. What movies have come out over the past few years alone? Santa Claus 3 (why God, why?), Christmas with the Kranks (ironically also with Tim Allen), Fred Klaus, and this years big Christmas spectacular, 4 Christmases.

So, I’d like to let everone know my favorite Christmas movie. Maybe you can also turn to its greatness in this, our time of cinematic need.

Die Hard.

It’s a movie. Set in Christmas time. Hence, I’d say it qualifies as a Christmas movie. Plus, it has Alan Rickman, so you can tell your girlfriend that it’s like Love Actually, except more badass and without getting all hung up on the whole “Christmas should be about love and emotions” bull.

So do yourself a favor. Pull up a blanket, heat up some cocoa, and warm your heart with some high octane John Mclaine blowing the shit out of Christmas. I know I will.

So no one has posted in a while. I suppose that’s mostly because at the moment, almost no one knows this blog (or entire site for that matter) exists. We’re working on content, and have written a bunch of good, stuff. It’s just not made yet.

But I needed to say one thing. I figured out how to accurately describe a good bowl of Broccoli Cheddar soup. I would say its somewhat like Captain America’s tears of joy that were used to fuel Optimus Prime while he pushed the stone away from the tomb the first Easter. That seems about accurate.

Also today is the election. I haven’t voted yet, I have to go after work. And as of this post, about 5 hours before I go to fulfill my sacred patriotic duty, I still don’t know who I’m voting for. It’s my first presidential election I get to vote in, and if they’re all as difficult as this one my life is going to be a hellish, tense and nerve-wracking process every 4 years. That is, until we evolve to our next step in civilization and decide who wins by way of a series of skill based competitions including a footrace, jenga, and minesweeper.

I both love and despise that stupid city.

At nighttime, Vegas is like a grown-ups’ carnival with boobs. In the daytime, its like you have a permanent hangover, even when you didn’t drink the night before. You just spend the day waiting for the night so you can dress all fancy thinking maybe someone might look at you over their liquor, in which case it most definately would be best to look nice, because I’ll be damned if a drunken stranger thinks I’m unattractive. The days ar filled with conversations like:

“What do you wanna do?”

“I don’t know. Wanna check out the pool”

“Yeah, sure. I guess.”

Pointless. And when you’re leaving you spend a solid hour or so on the road thinking how overratted strip clubs are and how they’re all whores and that one named “Ecstasy” should go die. Then you get home and you think to yourself, “Damnit, it was a fun  trip. I want to go back.”

Screw you Vegas. Screw you.

On the bright side, I have well over a hundred porn cards. They hand ‘em out like crazy!!

So the election is coming up. I think I know how its going to turn out, but you can never tell in politics these days. But I sure as hell know who I want sworn in. Both sides are feverishly trying to win my vote that I will cast in a state that hasn’t changed color since the 80’s, which makes me sad. Not because I feel like my vote doesn’t matter (I know that that in addition to the president part there are a bunch of other stuff for me to vote on), but that it makes other people I talk to feel like their vote doesn’t matter, and then they don’t vote. So vote.

Am I the only one who was super excited to vote before I turned 18? Am I the only one who had my older brother’s friend vote for me in 2004 becuase he otherwise didn’t care and I wanted to vote but couldn’t? Either way, I feel like this election seems like less of a debate and more of everyone just taking the opportunity to complain and blame moan about how much they hate everything. Sure, have your dissentions and disagreements, but if you’re the type who will never be happy with who’s in power, then I hate you.  I just got all burnt out on the whole partisan thing.

But damnit if I don’t love the West Wing.

I think Bryan is a blog whore. 3 Posts in a row. Ridiculous.

Also, I’ve decided I hate money. You want more of it just so you can get rid of it. Dumb. On the plus side, I just bought Iron Man. Today is not a total loss. Happy Independence Day, Lesotho.

So we got the idea to make a website because one of the four of us said “Hey, we should make a website.”

So I did. None of us know how to make a website, but damnit I wanted to make one. And now you’re reading the blog of the website made by one of the most “coding” illiterate people out there. The rest of the guys aren’t even fully set up yet. Its just me. I’m sitting here alone on Friday night (my girlfriend is at work, lest ye be judging) figuring out how to configure FTP and servers and whatnot and whoever. But hey, we exist as a “domain” now.

I like that that is what they call it. A web address is called the domain. It’s like the nerd who invented the internet wanted it to sound super cool and crazy.

Well, I think I’m gonna go play some Warhammer Online. That my girlfriend bought for me. Lest ye judge.

-Miller