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Author Topic: PP: Not having a Pet Peeves thread.  (Read 727735 times)
TeeZee
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« Reply #10920 on: September 06, 2013, 07:06:51 pm »

Statements like that just make me wish I had a powerful enough PC to handle Skyrim. Bethesda's RPGs are good on their own, but being able to mod them is what keeps them fun. Unfortunately I'm stuck with plain ol' 360 Skyrim and can't be bothered to get the last few achievements I need.
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« Reply #10921 on: September 06, 2013, 07:17:52 pm »

I stuck something like 700 hours into Skyrim, so I think I'm done with it.
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« Reply #10922 on: September 07, 2013, 11:41:46 pm »

PP: Still couldn't go to the last day of Comic Con here in Utah.

Stan "The Man" Lee was here today and I couldn't come.
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« Reply #10923 on: September 08, 2013, 08:40:59 pm »

I saw Stan "The Man" Lee a LONG time ago, got some comics signed and got some pictures taken with him.  I remember him being really cool about the fact my friend had a complete case of the stupids and couldn't remember how to use the cameras.  (For those who don't remember, a camera is one of those things people used to use to take pictures before all cell phones were able to do the same thing.)

PP:  The loudness war.  I bought Black Sabbath's new album and as much as I want to like it it sounds like shit because Rick Rubin over-produced, over-compressed and overall fucked up the entire album.  There are moments where it sounds like the "real" Black Sabbath but those moments are few and far between.  I contemplated getting it on vinyl but the reviews I've read indicate it's not any better.  I'm just overall disappointed in the current state of music lately because of this trend.  I would have the thought the Death Magnetic backlash where the fans overwhelmingly preferred the real dynamic range mix they used for the Rock Band tracks over the loud to the max over compressed album mix but apparently not.  So we keep getting louder shittier sounding music.  Bleh.  
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« Reply #10924 on: September 09, 2013, 07:46:20 am »

yeah, there's nothing like putting a new audio system into your car just to be able to hear music in all its crisp, detailed glory... and then finding out that there are no crisp recordings any more and haven't been for the past 15-20 years.
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« Reply #10925 on: September 09, 2013, 12:21:20 pm »

you just have to keep looking.

Wasting Light by the Foo Fighters was 100% Analog and didn't feel "over-produced" at all.
Also the Monitor by Titus Andronicus. Hell of a record, that one.

/Hipster Stan

PP: The Schulich Cult of Engineering. So long, all of my smarter friends...
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If you're gonna do that shit, do it about one of those ontario elections that always end in the cops chasing a rapist around a tim hortons or some shit.
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« Reply #10926 on: September 09, 2013, 12:57:03 pm »

PP: Speakers are blown in my car
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« Reply #10927 on: September 10, 2013, 10:02:11 pm »

PP: Can't fucking select "Fixed Price" on ebay.
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« Reply #10928 on: September 11, 2013, 12:10:05 am »

PP: My dog kept whining and whining so I took him outside because I figured he had to pee but then he wouldn't come back inside so I had to chase him and he ran under a huge spiderweb with a big ass spider sitting right in the middle but I didn't see it because it was dark so I ran into it and got web and spider all over me oh god why
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« Reply #10929 on: September 11, 2013, 10:36:25 pm »

PP:

My dearest nephew,
     It has been three days now since my colleagues and I traveled to "Buffalo". It was a strange land, the locals garbed in garish yellow shirts with strange names scrawled upon them. They approached us, asking us strange questions regarding "Ecks Boxes" and "Blops tourneys". We did not understand, and attempted to politely turn them down, receiving only bitter, confused stares in response. They offered drinks, odd bubbling brews, and again I turned them down, asking only for water. My colleague Daniel, possibly hoping that some form of our culture had reached the savages of Buffalo, asked for a beer. After a few moments, they delivered to him a strange drink. It resembled beer, but based upon his facial expression upon taste, I believe it to have been urine. Eventually, we grew hungry, and they offered to feed us. This lead to our greatest moment of folly.
    They began to softly chant the word "Wings" as we considered our options. The chanting grew as each of us made a decision. Another of my colleagues, a contemptible fool, misread their cries and asked for a "Vegetarian option". Immediately, one of the larger males, possibly a warrior, grabbed him about the neck and dragged him into the back, towards what I believe were the kitchens. We did not hear from him again. Fearing what may happen should we do the same, we asked for the wings. I requested, if I remember correctly, the "Parmesien Garlique", and Daniel asked for the "Spies E" option, a term he'd picked while studying Buffalo at the university. The poor, poor man.
     Our food was delivered to us on strange black platters, covered in paper and stacked high with small, dried pieces of meat covered in mysterious sauces. We ate fearfully, and I discovered a long hair in the sauces. I believe now that our colleague had returned to us. I became ill, and attempted to push the food away from me, but the savages brandished weapons and screamed at me in their frightening language, and forced me to continue. I should have let them end it there, nephew, for now I face an end far more terrifying.
    They carried out some dark ritual in those kitchens, I know this now. Whenever I visit the privy, I am faced with... Something I cannot explain. Were I a religious man, I would beg for a higher power to save me. The scent of sulfur burns my eyes and nose, and I hear a devilish snarling that feels as though it's coming from my own mouth. As of late, I've begun to black out, large swathes of memory reduced to blackness. Beasts haunt my nightmare, large horned avians, pecking at my innards, bearing a vile evil to the world. I fear within my body, I carry a dark gate to a realm of unimaginable horror. I'm locking myself away in a special room in my basement, with runes carved into the walls to keep whatever may come trapped inside. Warn someone, nephew, I beg of you. Warn them, eat not the wild wings of Buffalo.
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« Reply #10930 on: September 12, 2013, 04:32:09 pm »

Log give me a link to your blog I need to read more of your work.
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If you're gonna do that shit, do it about one of those ontario elections that always end in the cops chasing a rapist around a tim hortons or some shit.
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« Reply #10931 on: September 12, 2013, 07:02:44 pm »

Log give me a link to your blog I need to read more of your work.
^ What he said ^

PP: Comic books. Marvel and DC (or some of their writers/editorial) have been pissing me off for the past few years, with their need to have some status quo with characters. C'mon guys; Development is usually good, and if it isn't received as well you'd like don't kneejerk them back. Wait some time, let people grow accustomed to the notion and then bring the character to the forefront somewhere and let them grow.

PP: Toxin bot being Pat.
PP: Eddie not being Anti-Venom.
PP: Cloud 9 not being shown as a happy civilian or hardcore Super sniper.
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« Reply #10932 on: September 12, 2013, 07:28:29 pm »

I totally agree, I'm still pissed about the "One more day" storyline where they retconned Spidey's marriage out of existence.  Because returning to a fotry year old statsu quo was the way to go?  You keep telling yourself that...

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« Reply #10933 on: September 12, 2013, 09:08:07 pm »

PP: No other post ever made in this forum by anyone other than Log will be better than Log's letter to his dear nephew.
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« Reply #10934 on: September 12, 2013, 10:35:58 pm »

PP:

My dearest nephew,
     It has been three days now since my colleagues and I traveled to "Buffalo". It was a strange land, the locals garbed in garish yellow shirts with strange names scrawled upon them. They approached us, asking us strange questions regarding "Ecks Boxes" and "Blops tourneys". We did not understand, and attempted to politely turn them down, receiving only bitter, confused stares in response. They offered drinks, odd bubbling brews, and again I turned them down, asking only for water. My colleague Daniel, possibly hoping that some form of our culture had reached the savages of Buffalo, asked for a beer. After a few moments, they delivered to him a strange drink. It resembled beer, but based upon his facial expression upon taste, I believe it to have been urine. Eventually, we grew hungry, and they offered to feed us. This lead to our greatest moment of folly.
    They began to softly chant the word "Wings" as we considered our options. The chanting grew as each of us made a decision. Another of my colleagues, a contemptible fool, misread their cries and asked for a "Vegetarian option". Immediately, one of the larger males, possibly a warrior, grabbed him about the neck and dragged him into the back, towards what I believe were the kitchens. We did not hear from him again. Fearing what may happen should we do the same, we asked for the wings. I requested, if I remember correctly, the "Parmesien Garlique", and Daniel asked for the "Spies E" option, a term he'd picked while studying Buffalo at the university. The poor, poor man.
     Our food was delivered to us on strange black platters, covered in paper and stacked high with small, dried pieces of meat covered in mysterious sauces. We ate fearfully, and I discovered a long hair in the sauces. I believe now that our colleague had returned to us. I became ill, and attempted to push the food away from me, but the savages brandished weapons and screamed at me in their frightening language, and forced me to continue. I should have let them end it there, nephew, for now I face an end far more terrifying.
    They carried out some dark ritual in those kitchens, I know this now. Whenever I visit the privy, I am faced with... Something I cannot explain. Were I a religious man, I would beg for a higher power to save me. The scent of sulfur burns my eyes and nose, and I hear a devilish snarling that feels as though it's coming from my own mouth. As of late, I've begun to black out, large swathes of memory reduced to blackness. Beasts haunt my nightmare, large horned avians, pecking at my innards, bearing a vile evil to the world. I fear within my body, I carry a dark gate to a realm of unimaginable horror. I'm locking myself away in a special room in my basement, with runes carved into the walls to keep whatever may come trapped inside. Warn someone, nephew, I beg of you. Warn them, eat not the wild wings of Buffalo.

Your PP is our AP.
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