Mood: In it to win it, baby.
Music: Accidents Will Happen, Elvis Costello
Game: World of Warcraft, Call of Duty, Forza, Planetside.
Book: Fearful Warriors, Ralph K. White
Muffin: Blackberry-Peach.
Punchline: "What the fuck does he need a sheetrocker for?"
I've decided to put the mood line back in the status lines up top because archivally, I want to know what my mood was when I re-read my life.
Last night was more Forza madness. I think I'm getting a little better...but not much. My problem, as I imagine the fundamental challenge is in racing games, is consistency. I can't seem to ever run the same laps the same way. While I might have a pretty good lap, I certainly can't maintain that pace or whatever.
It's a single error that will totally screw your lap times...and when you're playing against machines like Wifey, Phyxie, and Frag, that's a mess of time you won't be getting back.
I'm still enjoying it, so there's that.
Last week we completely slaughtered the challengers during the CoD match. We had played Rx before, and beaten them, and while it wasn't particularly close for the final, the initial round was pretty close. I guess they figured that we were an easy target, that we somehow got lucky last time...and ended up being very, very wrong.
We owned them from the first shot fired to the last radio capped. And they felt it. There was no sticking around to congratulate, no "good games." Plain humiliation. They couldn't withstand the coordination. Our aim was no better or worse...but our tactics, communication, and coordination were FAR superior. I could sense their frustration towards the middle of the first round...and by the middle of the second round, it was plain obvious that they had come apart at the seams.
While they were getting more tense, less coordinated, and killed more frequently, we were getting looser, tighter, and simply killing them at will. The joking started happening, the attempts at pistolwhipping instead of killing, and the discipline loosened up...but it was far too late for them at that point.
In spite of the fact that we don't really practice, we really are very good. It has to do with our basic skills, our willingness to die to remove a thread, and our tactical attitude. We know the game is about the radio. The rest just doesn't matter.
Also interesting, I'm sort of getting back into World of Warcraft. I played my alt a lot last weekend, and this weekend, I think I'll play more of my rogue. I'd like to get instancing again, and because a bunch of people (some of whom I didn't really get along with for a variety of reasons) left the guild. The leaner, happier guild is probably going to be a lot more fun to play with.
It is the 4th of July this weekend...which means it's almost time for my now famous summer sorbet party. If you'd like an invite, just let me know! Over a dozen yummy sorbet flavors, lots of laughs, and the chance to hang out in Brooklyn!
I'll try to post more...but working in the same room as my boss has definitely put a damper on my ability to slack.....
Posted by Glenn at June 29, 2005 12:19 PMHey Wah!
I love sorbet! Not as much as chocolate cake, and a WHOLE lot more than cherry pie (god! I don't like cherry pie), but sorbet is SO cool and tasty!
Sorry, but my love for racing games is as great as my incomnpetence at racing games...I am not too good at most video games, truth be told...but I can eat a lot of sorbet, and HUGE quantities of chocolate cake...
I love you Wah! Would you put some sorbet in your belly-button for me?
*bamf*
Posted by: Heywah! at July 5, 2005 03:54 PMI must sorbet. last year's flavors still echo on my tongue, haunting me.
Please invite me, oh friend of mine for these many years. Do not make me live sorbetless much longer.
Posted by: colin at July 5, 2005 10:37 PM