The bachelor life.

My wife and daughter are away in Florida this week, visiting family. I got to stay home. Needless to say I plan on lounging on the couch in my boxers for the foreseeable future.

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Touristing it up at Lake George.

The in-laws came up this weekend to see the new place, and we showed them around our new home. With Lake George not half an hour from us, we spent a day there, doing the kinds of toursty things that no self-respecting local resident would ever do, and the highlight for me was the one hour boat tour of the lake.

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The UN Spacy wants YOU!

Took the words right out of my mouth.

You bet it is.

Some days it’s just good to be a complete and total nerd.  Not only is a Joss Whedon-directed Avengers movie coming out this week, the newest trailer for Christopher Nolan’s Dark Knight Rises hit the internet a couple of days ago as well.  You’d think that getting re-tweeted by Elizabeth Barnes, Brandon Keener’s wife, in praise of yesterday’s blog post would be hard to beat – considering that this means that the probability of the man who brought Garrus Fucking Vakarian to life actually reading what I wrote about him is close to 100 percent – but believe it or not I think I found something almost as cool as that.

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I need Patented Zombie Face Fucker Technology™.

Zombies: Das Facefücher.

Right in their ugly fucking faces.

I can safely announce what I want for my birthday: a custom bullpup conversion kit for my Ruger 10/22 semiautomatic .22 caliber rifle, complete with holographic sight, flash and noise suppression, and Patented Zombie Face Fucker Technology™ spike bayonet.

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Bromance: it’s not just for real people any more.

The hero Omega deserves.

Yes, yes they do.

Look at this magnificent bastard right here.  Just look at him.  This massive mountain of turian tumescence, one Garrus Vakarian, is my hero, and not just because he takes artillery fire from a mercenary gunship to the face and gets right back up on his goddamn two-toed taloned raptor feet; no, it’s because he is the hero Omega deserves.

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The first step is admitting you have a problem.

The helmet is real.  The ability to pilot an advanced transformable mecha?  That's fake.

That ain't a motorcycle helmet, folks.

I had a dangerous addiction during my teenage years.  Oh, it started off innocently enough; I’d steal a half-hour after school, or maybe an early Saturday morning before my family had gotten up yet.  Soon it had progressed. I started hanging out with the wrong crowd, where it was all we did and talked about, and the next thing you knew, I was finding ways to involve it in every aspect of my life.

Then, I finally hit rock-bottom.  I couldn’t hide from my problems any more. I found myself looking into abyss when I handed a fanfic to my creative writing teacher in 11th grade for credit: I had become a teenage anime fan.

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