Teshik's Blog

Sunday, April 12, 2009

Rude Awakenings

I'm not a morning person. I've gotten used to it. But because I'm always accumulating bad karma, random deities like to screw up my sleeping patterns. I can handle stress pretty good by now, or workload, or just random strangers happening to share their live-stories with me(yes that happens, no, I don't like it), but if I don't get a minimum of six hours sleep at night, I'm a very hard customer.
Additionally, on Tuesdays, I have the day off from work, and really like to sleep in, because I'm much happier when I start the day on 8.30 than 5.45 a.m. Especially considering my Monday ends usually on Tuesday, 2.30 a.m. or so.

So, of course, this is the cue for:

Tuesday, three weeks ago. 7 a.m.
Doorbell: *bing-bong*
Teshik: *snore*
Doorbell: *bing-bong*
Teshik: *grunts* *rolls over*
Doorbell: *bing-bong*!
Teshik: (his face buried in the pillow) Die. Just...die.
Doorbell: Dude, totally: *Bing-Bong*!!
Teshik: (imaginative cursing). Fine. FINE!
I stumble out of bed, grab a pair of jeans, because, whoever it is I have to kill right now, I'm not doing that while in my skimmies. It's a matter of principle. I stagger down the stairs, and open the door. There's a man outside, smiling. The part of my brain that's older than humanoid evolution, and one of the few parts already available does a quick calculation. Conclusion: Target larger than me, ripping out his throat with my teeth is inadvisable. For now.
Guy that shouldn't be so cheerful at 7 a.m.: Good Morning!
Teshik: *wookie noise*
Mr. Cheerful: So, where's the basement door?
There is a pause as Teshik tries to restart his brain. A starting car engine is heard in the background. He fails.
Teshik: Ehhhhhhh....whyyyyyy?
Mr. Cheerful: The boiler?
The engine starter tries again. Teshik's brain tries to establish a factual baseline for the snippets "cheerful unknown man", "boiler", "men trying to enter home" and "god knows when in the morning".
Teshik's Brain: Oh whatthefuckEVER. Just go with it. Wake me if he's a serial killer with superpowers.
Teshik: Eh. Follow me. (leads him to the boiler room and goes back upstairs).
Mom: (from the downstairs bathroom) Teshik! Teshik! Teshik!
I go over to the bathroom and try to open the door. Said door is shut firmly and quickly, hitting my head.
Teshik: OW! Fuck, Mom!
Mom: Don't open the door, don't open the door! Is he in the basement?
Teshik: Yeah...Who exactly...?
Mom: The heating's broke in some rooms, and we called someone over.
Teshik: And why did he ring my bell?
Mom: Because he's half an hour early, and I was just toweling myself.
Teshik: And you didn't open because...
Mom: ...my clothes are in the bedroom, and I'm butt naked.
Teshik: Aaahh. I'll get'em.
Mom: (pause) Did I just hit you?
Teshik: Yep.
Mom: Sorry.
Teshik: Don't worry, I'll bitch about it when I'm awake.

--

Tuesday, two weeks ago. 7.15 a.m.
Teshik: No, Superman, don't do it, Bambi is leading you into a trap.
Superman: Don't worry, I have many origami skills that will save me. Also: *bing-bong*.
Teshik: Sorry, I didn't get that.
The giant stone statue of Princess Clara: *binnnng-bonnnng*
Teshik: Mrrrfnl? Oh. (innovative cursing suggesting the doorbell ringer's mother enganged in unlawful acts with a raccoon)
This time, it's a woman in a business suit.
Woman: Hello! It's Mrs Schneider. I'm here for the photos?
Meanwhile, in the scary recesses of Teshik's head:
Aggression: I say we kill'er.
Curiosity: Wait! There's some interesting story behind that. (pause) And probably quite some innuendo.
Common Sense: What person in her right mind would decide 7 a.m is the right time to ring at a random stranger's door and ask for photos?
Memory: Oh, stranger things have happened to us.
Common Sense: True.
Aggression: I still say we kill'er.
Id: Id agrees.
Curiosity: Do you think she wants photos of us, photos of her, or something different?
Super-ego: Murdering a human being, is, as of current legislation, considered a major crime and thus, should be avoided. I suggest asking her for the purpose of the proposed pictures.
Proofreading: Aaah, Alliteration! Awesome!
Aggression: (to Super-ego) Killjoy. (to Proofreading) Idiot.
Ego: What's all the racket up here? Aren't we supposed to be asleep? ...Who the hell is this woman and what does she mean with photos? *sigh* I'll better get back in the driver's seat.
Back in the outside world.
Mrs. Schneider: Err...
Teshik: *wookie noise*?
Mrs. Schneider: You know, the photos for the house? Is <Mrs Nakatani> at home too?
Teshik: I really hope so.
This time, my mother was awake, and fully clothed, but for some reason Mrs Schneider found it necessary and/or funny to ring at my door instead of my parents. Turns out she works for a local financing agency, and my parents had tried to change the loan for the house to a different bank for a while now (mostly because the interest rates weren't as cushy as they had been in the mid-eighties), and the new bank wanted some security that our house wasn't a total dump or local crack house. Hence, the photos. It's still no explanation why these pictures had to be taken at seven in the morning, or why she insisted on taking a picture of my bathroom, but not of my freshly renovated bedroom. Oh well. It all boils down to "we have to pay 100 € less each month for the house", so in the end, I won't complain. Much.

--

Tuesday, last week, 8.45 a.m. At last, a sensible time. Well, if I hadn't worked on my paper till four in the morning, that is, but that's kinda my own damn fault. This time, it's the phone ringing. Hooray for variance.

Teshik: *snore*
Phone: deee-dooh-de-de-der-dooh-de-dee-dum!
Teshik: Oh, fuck me.
Phone: deee-dooh-de-de-der-dooh-de-dee-dum!
Teshik: New Item on TODO-List: devise flesh-eating bacteria. Set flesh-eating bacteria loose on innocent population. Wait in Biohazard suit until Eurafrasia is completely depopulated. Live happily ever after.
He goes over to the living room and the phone.
Teshik: What?
Mom: Where is that thingy?
Teshik's analytical brain component: Semantic analysis in Progress. Voice analysis confirms caller is "Mom". Message: Location of "thingy" object needed. Searching recent memory memes for mention of "thingy", as to supply additional meaning and context. Search complete. "thingy" not found. Conclusion: Data insufficient. No hypothesis reached. Redo from start.
Teshik: What?
Mom: You know...for the tires? For the screws.
Teshik's analytical brain component: Context supplied. Attempting to recalculate. Tires means either bicycle or car. Since our bicycles have been uselessly rusting in our garage for years, car tires are the most likely objects meant. Mother wants a tool, probably a wrench or ratchet. Raising the question: Since Mom's technical expertise in cars is as low as mine, and the tires are almost half her size and weight, how, and why does she want to disassemble our vehicles? Especially considering Mom has a bad back?
Teshik: Please stay where you are until I am wearing pants and can help you.
Mom: No, no! Go back to sleep, just tell me where the thingy is.
Teshik's mind.
Common Sense: But, since we're already awake, and she's pursuing a thinly veiled passive-aggressive strategy, does she really think we would crawl back into bed, even if we could sleep?
Aggression: I say we kill'er.
Common Sense: Matricide without adequate reason? Is...unwise.
Aggression: We could...maim her a little?
Common Sense: Hmm...
Back outside.
Teshik: Just...don't touch anything, I'll be right there.

Okay, so Mom didn't want to do all the heavy work by herself, since Malady and her boytoy (Who I will name TheDick, just for a cheap laugh) were going to help her. But Mom was up early, and decided she could just "prepare a little". Only, that's kind of an "in motion" thing with her: She starts off looking for the tools, drives the first car into position, gets the car jack, decides one little tire isn't going to kill her, and the next thing you know, I find my Mom buried under a giant tire stack, a la Wicked Witch of the West and lil'DoroTeshik has to travel into Lollipop-Guild-controlled land to get his spleen back. And you know, since I'm just not the type for sparkly red high heels, this would've only ended very, very badly. Hee.
So, of course, I was the one getting the tires, explaining this to Mom, only leaving out the Wizard of Oz parts (I'm crazy, not stupid). And either because I'm a klutz or God loves a cheap laugh as much as the next guy, in the very next second, I lose grip of a tire and brain myself in the face with it. And then take the day off because of mild concussion afterwards. And let me tell you: nothing is better than your friends singing "the last Unicorn" instead of "happy birthday" three days later. Or more surreal.

So, what did we learn today? Not much, except that getting out of bed is dangerous.

Wednesday, December 31, 2008

In Conclusion: 2008 hated me.

But before I start dissing the new year, I have to give the old one a proper send-off. And by proper, I mean, "beat it until it's dead and then dump its corpse into a gigantic vat full of acid".

During the beginning of December, I was still overworked as hell (no surprise here), so that means, Christmas Shopping will have to wait. A little. Then a little more, and a little to the left, and whoops, somehow it's December 21st. Anyone of you ever been so incredibly stupid so you had to go out two days before Christmas to get all of your shopping done?

We all know, that, as soon as December 1st comes around, approximately 30 % of the general population turns on a secret switch in their brains, the ends of which are labled "Normal -- Batshit Crazy", respectively. People who normally aren't fazed by an earthquake rating 7.2 on the Richter scale, suddenly are dazzled, confused and panicked by simple concepts like traffic lights. Or won't think of the simplest solutions and precautions. Like winter tires, for example.

As we all know, or at least SHOULD know, winter tends to be cold. One could even assume that, since we have witnessed snow, and ice, in the past years, always in winter, that people can make the association between "winter" and "cold". Especially considering that everyone who is permitted to drive a car has at least a 16 to 18 years experience regarding winters, depending on the country you're in. And you'd be mistaken. Because every fucking year, as soon as the first snow comes around, I always seem to drive just behind one of four types of car drivers:

a) Ooooooohhh. Preeeetttyyyy. I will now slow down and park in the middle of the street to admire the beauty of nature.
b) Oh. Is that a snowflake? Oh my. And this in October/November/December/January? Who'd've thunk. But now I have summer tires on my car. What do I do? I better get an appointment at the nearest auto shop. I will take out my telephone book right now. In the middle of the Autobahn/highway/highly trafficed city street. Oh, those people are honking. Don't they know I'm incapable of driving right now? I have summer tires! As a compromise, I will slouch along at 5 kilometers per hour, and hope I will arrive safely.
c) OH MY GOD A SNOWFLAKE WE'RE ALL GONNA DIE!!!!! (steps on the brakes so hard the following two cars slam into him, creating a traffic jam)
d) I am so very very cool. I am so cool that I don't need no fucking winter tires. Because caution is for pussies. That's why I'm driving 200 kilometers per hour in an area where only 100 is permitted, and where the road is totally fucking iced. That's how cool I am. And even though my brakes are failing right now, I'm still the coolest of them ....AAAAAHH! (Crash! Boom! Fatality! *Ding* Congratulations! You have unlocked the "Darwin Award" achievement!)

Sadly, these four types can also be found during the Christmas Shopping Spree. Type A will simply stop at every goddamn mall window, admiring the Fuzzy Wuzzy Weebits or whatever; Type B is struck with indecision, running around aimlessly because, hell, this way, he/she will just hit the wanted store and present at some point; Type C will kill each and everything in his/her path because, Oh GOD, there are only 25 Paris-Hilton-Barbies-With-Sagging-Eyelid-Action left at this and every other damn store, so the chances of actually getting one are next to nothing, NOTHING I tells ya; and Type D provides us with the much needed domestic violence quota over the Holidays, gifting his girlfriend with either everything HE ever wanted, or everything nobody in the History of Mankind ever wanted, but is still made commercially. Well, someone has to help the economy with senseless consumerism I guess.

Now, take those four types, multiply each of them by 500, stuff them into the nearest mall, and put one sane person in the middle, follow them with a camera, and grab the popcorn as the poor fucker is driven insane and/or ripped into pieces.

Yeah. Note to self: Don't do that again, Idiot.

Also, dear Mall operating staff, or whatever you guys are called: Yes, Winter is cold. Thanks for acknowledging. But if you crank up the heating in the building up to eleven and beyond, all those people, who are already zooming through your halls like a live demonstration of the Brownian Motion, and are coated in at least seven layers of clothing each? Will start to sweat. Sweat, when amassed in large amounts, starts to stink like a dead buffalo. So, just a suggestion, don't turn the heating up to a FUCKIN' 30 DEGREES CELSIUS.

But in spite of stress, homicidal maniacs, and strange random people asking me which motivational coffee mug she should buy for Stefanie (She mistook me for someone. I hope), I managed to get out of it with all presents and only superficial mental scarring.

But of course, that's not the end of my year. On December 18th, our department at work made an afterwork party/X-mas precelebration or whatever these things are called. Anyway, after sitting in a restaurant of ridiculously overpriced food, and gaining the suspicion that actually, work hasn't ended yet (brought on by my boss, who "suggested" that we "voluntarily" take part in some exercises that were remarkably like those in those fuggin' team workshops), afterwards, we took off in the christmas market, and since I was still dressed for office, not for minus ten degrees, thank you, I came down with a nasty little cold virus that infested me until about christmas.

But fear not, I will not have the indignity of not being bothered this Christmas! For Lo, my sister had an even worse cold and more or less coughed all over our Christmas Dinner, so on December 26th, I was sick again.
Meanwhile, the PC I had bought this past June was showing signs of the Fucking Off And Dying, and after realizing the hard drive was in on it, I barely had time to save some really really important paper I had been working on since October, and then *puff* PC Death. and even better, all those pesky files that I had stored on said hard drive? Gone, too!
Including, but certainly not limited to, the entire source code I was programming for said paper. (it's called Studienarbeit. Before you're allowed to write your diploma paper, you have to write a Studienarbeit/study paper to prove that you're capable of writing scientific texts or some bullshit like that. Essentially, it's three months of work that won't even be graded, but is almost as time-consuming as the diploma paper itself.). So, without the source code, which was the program I developed in those three months, and which was the basis of my very theory in the paper, the paper itself? was completely worthless now. Yay! Let's spend yet another year in University, Teshik! It's not expensive or exhausting or anything!

So, between Christmas and New Years, I had time to contemplate how to salvage the situation, and going through all my backups to see if there was anything left. There was, the almost finished version of my program, that is, save for a few bugs. But: without the source code, you can't edit out those pesky bugs, and also, you can't prove that you didn't download the entire application from some shady internet source - not good for a "scientific paper".

But at least, I had something, because my hard disk decided to give me the finger again, and again, and proceeded to fuck with my mind even further, since: My hard disk was divided into four parts: windows, my games, my music, and my data (where the important parts are located). Now, considering all my music is ripped from my cd's, and are also backed up as mp3's somewhere, what do you think I'll get if I access the broken hard disk with disk repair software? That's right, everything but the data I need. Good thing Murphy's law is still in operation. Oh, and additionally? The graphics card I got from Scorpio for Christmas, was toasted too.

Also still in operation? Murphy's Second Law, If things are left to themselves, they will go from bad to worse. Remember that cold? Oh, that cold itself wasn't that bad. But it seemingly opened the door for several other interesting diseases. And so, on December 31st, my cousin, where I wanted to spend New Years Eve, received a call:

Scorpio: Hey. What up?
Teshik: Uhh. My dinner. It then proceeded to jump in the toilet.
Scorpio: (pause) You really hate to catch a break with your bad luck strain, don't you?
Teshik: Yeah, that'd just be like giving up on my great Goddess, the Mighty Misfortuna.

And so, yes, the Year 2008 ended for me, clutching my old friend The Toilet Bowl.

Ain't Life Grand?

Tuesday, November 25, 2008

Wisdom, my Ass

Hey People, sorry I haven't written in (insert time period) because of (insert increasingly lame excuse about stressful real life). Well, that's the gist of it, anyway, because after work, I get tied up in uni work, and after that, I barely have the time for the base tasks of "eat", "sleep" "brush teeth", and "change underwear", so I just decided to skip the "have fun" part of my weekly schedule entirely. And then it suddenly became November.

My body doesn't seem to find this all too funny, however, and given me subtle hints about his displeasure all summer. Athlete's Foot, at first. I have stuff that cures that, never mind. Then, gaining ten pounds of weight. Would be uncomfortable, if you don't count in the fact that even with them, I'm still ten pounds below the recommended weight for my height, so that one's actually working in my favor. For the first time in ages, I could actually buy pants fitting me - well, if I had the time to shop, that is. Body recognizes he's not getting anywhere, and starts popping zits, about one per day and facial region. Girl, please. I've been having zits since two days before my twelfth birthday. And unlike my puberty, I'm not a sobbing case of hormones anymore, thank god. So I'm able to shrug it off, because I'm not that vain. Then, hair loss. Oooh, subtle, and actually getting my attention - because while I might not care for my average facial structure, I do have a weak spot of vanity regarding my hair - mainly since I still, at age 28, have kind of a boyish appearance, sorta Michael J. Fox-like, and I would look really reaaaally stupid with male-pattern baldness. But I think I'll just look into Propecia and the like in the future and move on.

So, it became clear for my body that, if he finally wants me to slow down a notch, he inevitably has to break out the heavy artillery. That heavy artillery means: Teeth. I have a major phobia for dentists, so yeah. nothing short of my eyeballs literally bursting into flame will have any more impact.
Week 1. It started out as a dull pressure between my front teeth. Which I dismissed. I already knew the last wisdom tooth was coming, and well, I have had three of them already, all of which went out without any bigger fuss. Let him come, I have place for one more.

Week 2.The pressure continues. Well. Speed up, your buddies are waiting. And I'm busy redesigning the cover sheets of my TPS reports or something.

Week 3.The pressure intensifies, and shortens my sleep phases. Hurry up, fucknugget, I'm busy.

Week 4. I give in and make an appointment with my dentist, because, well, I don't sleep any longer. Are there any other people with moderate to severe oral phobia out there? Then you might be able to understand what "making an appointment with dentist", out of free will, means to me.

My dentist is a nice man, but he tends to be a little too enthusiastic about my teeth, or rather, their problems.

T: I have a problem with my wisdom tooth.
The Dentist takes that scraping thing and ventures into my unwilling mouth. Both me and the assistant tense up, me because I don't like people venturing into my oral cavity in general, and her because she knows, from experience, that I will plant my fist into her stomach to vocalise eventual...err...displeasures with the treatment. (I apologized. But I would do it again, without remorse.)
D: Yes, that one down there looks like a pretty case of caries.
T: Err...actually I mean the one on the upper side. The one that's not out yet? (But thanks about the prospect of a drill in the very deepest part of my jaw bone in a future appointment.)
D: (after an x-ray) Well, it seems that your tooth is special.
T: "Special" means you apply a special spray, and it vanishes on its own?
D: Oh no. See, here (points to the x-ray) you see the tooth reaching into your nasal cavity. Also, on the side, you can even see it boring into the back of your jaw muscle tissue - that's what's probably causing the pain. I can't remove that, you get to see a colleague of mine, a facial surgeon.
T: *twitch*

Facial surgery. Oh Goody. But since the pain in my jaw went from "ouch" to "Fucking OW!" to "OH PLEASE LORD HAVE MERCY" in the two days between dentist and facial surgeon, I didn't complain. Mostly because I was so exhausted from sleep deprivation that my mother had to physically drag me out of the house and into the car.
Oh, and what I definitely don't need in this kind of situation is walking into the waiting room and hearing an earthshattering "EEAAAAAOOOUUWWWW!!!" from a fellow patient. If I had been in a better condition, I'd've cut my losses and run screaming into the night.

The tooth removal itself wasn't that bad, because, thank the heavens for regional anaesthetics. And also, after the tooth was out, and the pressure gone, I was so very merry...until the drugs went off, that is. Since the tooth went up all the way to the nasal cavity, this also meant in the first two days I had to be really careful not to sneeze or anything, because certain parts of my anatomy in mouth and nose then flabbed. Also, when my mouth is closed, I really REALLY shouldn't be able to draw air into my mouth through my nose. Aren't you glad I imparted that interesting and disgusting wisdom upon you just now?

And yes, instead of finally taking a much-needed sick day, I purposefully set the appointment to a friday when I'm not working, and went on to work back on Monday. Probably because I'm just that much of a masochistic moron.

Yeah, and this is pretty much everything I remember from Autumn 2008. People say admitting that you have a problem is the first step and shit. I so admit my problem, too many activities crammed into too little time slots. There. Could now somebody get on with the fixing of said problem? I mean, I would solve it myself, but, just look at the time! Too late, too late, too-late-too-late-too-late!!! *hops onwards towards the next useless appointment while Lewis Carroll rolls his eyes in the background*

Join Teshik when he gets all he wishes, in the worst possible way of course, during Christmas and January. Which he will probably post in November 2012, by the rate things are going.

Monday, June 23, 2008

Fun for the Masses

Hey You! Yes, I mean you! Are you currently underworked? Maybe out of gainful employment? Are you even bored out of your MIND? Do you need a cheap, nay, free pastime to spend the endless hours? Despair no more, because those Interwebs of late (which are, as you all know, a series of tubes) have countless pages of made-up-shit just for that very purpose.

Plus, as an added bonus: You just know that some other person spent countless hours behind this, just to entertain the world.

Section I: Video Entertainment.

You all know Youtube. For those who don't: Dear Sir or Madam, are you aware that, at this moment, you have a real mouse on your desk, and are probably even touching it? Go find pest control.
Sorry. But you just can take so many calls from friends and family ("Hey, I just bought me the internets, and now it won't work." Or: "I can't access my Email." - "That's because you're on the eBay website." - "Yeah, but I can't open my Email! Duh!") before you start getting mean to the Technophobes.

Innyway. Youtube basically is one of those Gold-digging sites: You search for the nuggets, while digging through the 90 % utter crap that comprises the rest. One of thee nuggets:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uk2sPl_Z7ZU
How to draw the Mona Lisa with MS Paint. Just...wow.

Or: Fun-ucationals: Trying to remember the Presidents of the USA? All 50 States and their Capitals? Or even just all countries in the whole friggin' world? The animaniacs have the answer:

Presidents:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Vvy0wRLD5s8

States:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sNUDDaEOvuY

Nations:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IDtdQ8bTvRc

Also, if you just want a random quick flashback into the nineties? Here:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bjOePNFRFRU
(You can also watch the original, but why? It doesn't even have dancing hippos.)

Then: Abridged Series. These are Youtube-"Shorts" (usually five to ten minutes), retelling an episode of a selected anime or cartoon. And when I say "retell", I mean "parody", pointing out the various plotholes, inconsistencies, and make just plain old fun. In most cases, having seen the original cartoon? is entirely optional. Warning: All of them contain coarse language, some adult content, and, like, you're spoiled afterwards, DUH!
Of course, there are also about a million copycats of the good ones, most of them atrociously bad. Some of the good ones are:

Yugioh The Abridged Series
by LittleKuriboh, The guy who I think started it all. Has now started his own website hosting the stuff.

Avatar TAS
"Hold on, I'll save us by freezing us in a giant block of ice! Yeah, best plan ever." Heh.

Teen Titans TAS
Not that impressive the first minute or so, but give it a shot, it really pays off. There are other series around, I didn't watch them yet, only Chaltab's.

Yu Yu Hakusho TAS
The anime is of the more obscure variety, but the humor's still good.

Legend of Zelda - TAS
The game, in abridged format.

Sailor Moon AbridgedHeh. The best part is, it really brings out the extreme cheesiness of the original. Now with it's own website, too.

Secret of Mana Theater- Not a movie, per se, but a flash-made retelling of Secret of Mana, the SNES video game. This one's the funniest once you've played the game though (look for emulators.)

And while we're on the topic of flash - an entire world of flash games and little movies, over here, at Newgrounds.

Section II - Games

You need something more interactive to keep yourself occupied? No problem. For the internet also supplies oodles of Games, too. And, like the previous stuff: for free.

Just tossing out some examples, because I don't have the time to find all of them at the moment:

Survival Guide: Dust Settles

You just happened to survive the nuclear war. Now, onwards to becoming on of the post-apocalyptic World leaders! A browser game. If you like strategy, here's your genre. If you want pretty explosions and stuff, not so much.
Space4k

Browser game just as above, but this time, you're ruling space.
Anarchy Online

One of the "real environment" games. Instead of browser games, you download a game client (yes, it's biiiig. I suggest Bittorent), and log on to a 3D environment, where you can create a character fighting monsters, and other players. and stuff. Imagine the Sims. Only with guns. And dinosaurs.

Section III - Webcomics

The third, and largest section, mainly because I'm not in the mood to sort the good from the bad, so you'll just get a dump from my Favorites folder, and you'll figure it out. Hey, you're the people with nothing to do at the moment...

arcade(Gamers Fun)

:: Dueling Analogs ::: Dueling Analogs is a color semi-weekly webcomic that lampoons the characters, culture and subtext of modern gaming and video game culture. Updates every Tuesday and Thursday.
Ctrl+Alt+Del - Tragically l337
GOD MODE * Mon-Wed-Fri * Gaming Comics Hilarity by Ryan Kerns: For fans of Manga, Anime, Games, Gaming, Gamers Playstation, Nintendo, Xbox, Halo 2, PSP, Sony, Squaresoft, Nintendogs, Sonic, Final Fantasy, Advent Children, Nintendo Revolution, PS3, XBOX 360
STAGE SELECT: When Masters Attack - Updated every Friday and Monday!: A megaman webcomic! HAND DRAWN! Bye bye, sprite comics!
VG Cats - Updated Mondays
EXTRALIFE - Web comic for geeks, gamers, and stuff like that
Penny Arcade!
SORE THUMBS * Mon-Wed-Fri * Insane Political Gaming Manga-Type Comics by Owen Gieni and Chris Crosby: For fans of Manga, Anime, Games, Gaming, Gamers, Playstation, Nintendo, Xbox, Halo 2, PSP, Sony, Warcraft, Super Mario Bros.
Press Start To Play - A Webcomic About Life, Love And Videogames. Updated Monday and Friday
ActionTrip Comic Strip: Taking Public Relations to New Heights: ActionTrip.com offers a great collection of gaming comics, alternative comic strips, world of arcraft comics, funny humor, and more!
Digital Unrest - Updated at least every Monday
Bob and George, the Comic Strip! - Discontinued, but it ran for seven years. One of the then-popular sprite comics.

Sinfest
Spells & Whistles: A Comic by Tauhid Bondia and Mike Spectre
Swordwaltzer
The Adventures of John Witchthorn ™ and friends -- protecting the Earth from the Darknaughts who prowl the Channels of Infinity!: John Witchthorn uses his mystic powers and supernormal abilities to protect the Earth from extra-dimensional danger!
Unshelved - archive
Fallen - updates Sundays

Fantasy

SkyFallManga.com || SkyFall Online Manga
Fantasy Webcomic Rogues of Clwyd-Rhan: Elves, Witches, Vikings and Beer!
Bookelves featuring Alfheim (alv'hame) Updated Tuesday, January 15, 2008: Fantasy-genre comics. Humor, romance, and adventure. Some mature themes, Benny Hill-style innuendo, and scantily-clad characters.
Dumb Luck
Sins - Updating MWF
Edge the Devilhunter Online: The Gospel of Whoopass!: An online graphic novel about a lewd, teenage gutterpunk conscripted by divine forces to fight the armies of hell. MA: Graphic Violence, Strong Sexuality, Adult Language
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Tuesday, June 10, 2008

The hills are alive - With the sound of mucus

Note to self: Self, don't complain about the weather being way, wayyy too cold for Mid-May. Because then, only two days later, said weather will make a 180-degree-turn and roasts you in 32 degrees (Celsius. I don't do Fahrenheit.). Which had the unfortunate side-effect of activating my hay fever, and worse than ever. And nothing is more fun than spending your afternoons expelling never-ceasing-fluids from your nose, or marathon-sneezing. And those little crumbs in your eyes that prevent you from opening them in the morning? Make waking up at half past five even more perfect than it is already. My dermatologist (See? Told ya I'd add people to the list) says she's totally packed at the moment, because apparently it's more of a "People are dropping left and right due to severe pollen hazard" problem this year, and not a "Teshik's allergies are just more pissed this year than usual" problem. Which is not that big a consolation for me, but as long as I get prescription free allergy pills in the pharmacy, I don't mind it that much that she can't give me an appointment. Plus, it's actually less costly for me, because, If you go to the doc in Germany, you have to pay 10 € once per quarter. If you don't go to the doc, you don't have to pay. And the allergy meds cost me about 6 €. Compared to paying 10 € for showing up at my doc once for June, and July (different quarters, so 20 €), paying twice for the meds myself is better than having to sit around in the waiting room for two hours each appointment. Even if I get free meds out of it.

Hm, I just realized, I'm harping about the weather again. Which means, by the logic of "get what you want, in the worst possible way", that by this time tomorrow, it will be snowing. In June. Cool.

Saturday, May 10, 2008

Non News

Class? Meet Fridgey. Fridgey is the newest member of my household, and I will love him and hug him and pet him and call him Florence and take him to the park until the day he dies. Okay, maybe not the park thing, because I'm afraid frolicking will get a leeetle cumbersome, what with him not moving and weighing 23 kilos. But he has Energy Efficience Class A+, so he won't waste electricity! And he is so cool and new and not smelling of God knows what this little green wrinkled thingy was that Grandma left in the last one before she died anno 2001. (No matter how hard I scrubbed, I couldn't get it out of the old one. I presume it was parsley.)
You think I'm a little overjoyed with my new fridge? Bah. Ever tried to live two fucking months without one? And before you ask, no, I didn't have a (functioning) freezer either. Now I have. Granted, in the tiny space I can probably only fit a chocolate popsicle and about three ice cubes, or maybe a pizza if I fold it a few times, but nevertheless, it's mine, and it's working. Whee!

I also want you to meet the second newest member of my household:

You already know Nero, his new pal is called Marty. I will not hug him too tight, though, because that would end in me becoming very surprised, then very dirty, and then very sad, in about that order. Plus, little fucker is way too fast for me to catch anyway. I will not take him to the park either, because of the predictable result.
(Oh, and before you ask, no, that's not their real cage, they just like to play in the tiny one. And destroy wooden ceilings)

As for the third new member of my household, I will not give it nicknames, and I will certainly not post pictures, because that's the one-centimeter-scar I acquired when they finally cut away my "I Can't Believe It's Not Cancer"-cyst I whined about way back in December.

Another new member of another household: Petronius is now the proud father of a tiny little girl, and hopefully, he won't break off any parts of her. I don't have any pictures of her though, because we kinda didn't talk since Mid-February (when last semester ended), and to be honest, I will not be the one forcing the issue after the whole seminar fubar. Just because we passed in the end, doesn't mean all is forgiven. I wish them the best of luck, though.

Since this all was quite non-life-threatening and/or actually good news for us, don't worry, we do fill our shittiness quota for April too, since two days after my birthday, our heating broke. The way things are going in our house at the moment is truly amazing. I fully expect to slam a door too hard next week and the wall attached to it disintegrating into dust. Oh, and in contrast to last April, which hat temperatures of 25 degrees Celsius and more, we had the coldest April in the last 15 years. Thank you, St. Peter. We really like to freeze. Anyway, since we already had planned to nenew our heating system this autumn, we skipped the fixing and went over right to the new system. Which, naturally meant 1) the very day the new heating was installed, we had the first real summer day, and 2) a full week where people I don't know make everything dirty. Whee. Not. Also? My dad insisted on buying another oil heating because "it's reliable", so I will probably rip that one out in ten years or so, because: I don't know how prices for oil are in the States right now, but our gasoline peaked from 1,24 €/litre to 1,54 €/litre in the span of three month. That's a 25 fuckin' per cent increase, if yer interested.

Last, but not least: Today is Saturday, May 10th, and my Mom's gargantuan wound? STILL not closed. Partly because our Doc needed to rip it open again, there was some dirt in the wound.

Next up on Teshik-TV: Teshik and his family make a lovely vacation to the Indian Ocean, to discover where exactly Nargis went after scorching the better parts of Burma. Wacky hijinks ensue when they accidentally stumble around Osama bin Laden's secret hideout instead. Stay tuned, kids!

Thursday, April 24, 2008

Chaaaaange

I guess it's finally time for me to take the time again and start to post blog entries every now and then (at least, entries that won't involve physical and/or mental breakdowns on my part)

Now that I've already driven off the sadists waiting for stories of my torment, how to antagonize even more possible readers? Hmm...Ah! Politics.

Let's have a rational and neutral discussion about your candidate debate. By which I mean, "let me ridicule your current and your possible next presidents."
At the moment, even though my TV is still refusing to receive any broadcasts, I'm still feeling bombarded by that whole "Who's da Prez"(candidate) issue. And I like to remind y'all that I don't even live on the same continent as the United States. Needless to say, I'm annoyed. Because, even if I'm well-informed about the issue, which I usually prefer in political topics, I won't have any say in the matter anyway. I do have the power to whine about, though.

Let's look at the choices you have. Your current supreme ruler isn't electable anymore. That means, since you're essentially a two-party-country, usually two candidates. I'm not including Ralph Nader or the Greens in this, because, let's face it: While Nader might have a chance of entering the Guinness Book of Records at some point (Most consecutive runnings for president, 1992 - 2036), the actual chances are rather slim, since better arguments won't win you an election, see "Re: The Dolt vs. Horseface" in 2004, and also, even the majority of votes won't guarantee you a win, see "Re: Re: The Dolt vs. Global Warming" in 2000.

Interestingly, this time, we have twist with an additional candidate, since the Democrats still haven't made up their mind yet. That leaves you with three choices: White Bitch, Black Jesus, and Old Faithful.

And now comes the tricky part: Are you able to vote for one of those candidates without those descriptive labels "Woman", "Black" or "Veteran"? The thing is, everyone has them in the back of his/her mind when deciding who is the best of them in their opinion. Yet, as soon as you point that out, you're either sexist, racist, or unpatriotic. This is fairly easy to spot once you begin to mix around.

An example: Imagine John McCain was a woman. Suddenly, his chances of becoming president begin to drop. Why? Not because of the big blond wig and the red lipstick, mind you. People have no problem electing female heads of state, The Iron Lady, or our Darth Merkel with her Weapons of Mass Distraction are the best examples. It's just that a Mrs. McCain would have the stigma of being too old. Ever seen a 71-year-old woman running around claiming a high political office? I won't say there won't be any, but as soon as they have to face elections, they have fewer chances. It's the old little saying: "When men age, they get more charming. When women age, they get more ugly". Sad, and certainly unfair, but still true.

Second example: Make Clinton male. Suddenly, she's way less "cold". Women are supposed to be more sympathetic with your issues, have that motherly attitude. It's her gender that kinda gets her the air of being a cold-hearted bitch. If a man acts cold-hearted, it's forgiven sooner, because it's more expected. If a woman does the same, it's regarded as an attack out of left field. Of course, being a woman can also be used nicely, like crying yourself back into the hearts of millions. If a man cried, he'd be out of the race in under five seconds. But don't get me wrong, if Clinton has to, she will order your Death By Airlock.

Thirdly: Douse poor Mr. Obama in a shower of bleach to make him white(Not that white though, please.), and call him Steve. Wow. Isn't he boring now? Also, he loses his ability to appear as the Second Kennedy. Plus, he predictably loses his appeal on the African-American populace. Why? Is a white male so utterly unsuitable to speak for all Americans, regardless of color? (If you answer that one with "yes", then Barack Obama is in return unsuitable for representing the Whites/Latinos/Whathaveyou, which is the majority.)
Also, Steve Obama's Speeches about the Chaaaaange the country needs, and the Chaaaaange in the government, are way less believable now. (Granted, his opponents jumped on the whole Chaaaaange train, but only because they realized it worked.). Because, if you look more closely, and strip away Obama's undoubtedly charismatic face and the whole "vision" and the youtube-videos blending him together with frickin' Martin Luther King, which just rubs me in a really wrong way, then you discover remarkably few details to his whole "Chaaaaanging America" plan. I mean, it's part of the deal that candidates try to hold the nasty details like tax raises and unpopular decisions until after the election, and McCain and Clinton are no different. But apart from the fact that Obama was against the Iraq war and him pointing fingers, "but the Bad Bad Mrs. Clinton said yes", I know little about his real political agenda. And all I do find are quotes out of the last year as a candidate, so I can't know if he's always been of those opinions, or if he just shells out everything his voters want to hear.

Oh, and another thing: Presidental candidates all try to sell that they're standing up for the Poor Lower-Middle-Class People trying to meet ends with three-and-a-half jobs. And they caaaare so much for them. Just remember two things, though:

1) Presidental candidates seldom know what lower-class or even lower middle-class means. You know McCain and Clinton are White Suburbians. And "Man of the People"-Obama? His Dad went to Harvard, his later stepdad was a manager for an oil company, Barack himself went to Indonesian private schools.
2) If you want to win an election in the USA, you have to spend the big bucks. That means you either have them yourself, or you need to get donations. Where'd you get the biggest donations? Well, corporations, and other rich people. Duh. Why will they give you the money? Because they expect something in return. Dubya was supported by big oil companies, so what will he do? Tax them for environmental destruction and use the money to create a green economy? Please. Your Li'l Shrub may not be the sharpest knife in the drawer, but even he isn't that dumb. And Clinton, Obama and McCain will have to rely on the same kind of money.

So, kids, keep those words of mine in mind when you vote, and maybe we'll end up with the Lesser Evil this time. For my part, I will wholeheartedly support Hillary. Hillary Hussein Rodham-McCain Jr., that is.

Monday, March 03, 2008

A Brave New Year - Part III

No, I'm still not done. But at least, the frequency of poo hitting the fan kinda slowed down.

On Saturday, my Dad brought me some anti-emetica from the doc, because, while I was getting rehydrated, I also didn't really stop vomiting, up to the point where I actually went to my computer, gaming, and every once in a while just casually hitting pause, reaching over to the vomit bowl, expelling the tea and the zwieback, hitting resume, and continue playing. Thankfully, that stopped after a healthy dose of that stuff. By the way, if I develop a kidney failure and/or liver cirrhosis in the next two months, it will be because of that drug, because I had to guess on the right dosage part. But at least, I finally got the chance to get a good nights sleep. Or afternoon. I didn't really care, but it was a step up from "passing out" to "napping".
On Saturday afternoon, we also pinpointed the time of incubation for the virus to be about 30 hours. Because that was when my Dad came down with it, too. At least he was sensible enough to pass out in the middle of the bathroom, instead of banging his forehead.
Speaking of banged foreheads: By around Sunday I had a mini-neanderthal-brow springing up on the front, and the horn from the Thursday incident on the side. the nose ridge, especially between the eyes, was a picturesque shade of violet, branching out on my left nose side, and the cut just a millimeter next to the beginning of my eyebrows (hence the bleeding before). I regret not having shot a picture of it, because I totally could have saved it for blackmailing. ("See, Mr Police Officer? He/She/It totally kicked the crap outta me! Arrest'em!")

It's a wonder we didn't infect my sister, too. I attribute that to her very smart approach of "staying over at her boyfriend, coming home once daily. Then, feeding the cat and the budgie, verifying from a distance that Dad and I are both still breathing, and getting the hell out of here before any virus can sense her presence." Good, partly because Mom is still in the hospital, remember, and no way in hell we're dragging a highly contagious vomit-virus to a woman who just had her stomach cut open. (Well, and all the other sick people over there, I guess.)

After this horrible weekend was finally over, I had learned that:
-I lost seven kilos of weight. Considering I was already quite a skinny guy before, losing about ten percent of my body mass isn't that swell as the overweight in the audience might think. Also, I'm considering to model for the new Perfume "Anorèxique (Pour Homme)",
-my stomach muscles are so well trained now that I'm probably able to swallow walnuts whole and simply crush them afterwards,
-no matter how fat I get, it's established that I'm never, ever, EVER going for bulimia. Ever.

You know what? I'm STILL not done. Because, on Tuesday, I finally was healthy enough to get back to work, and to visit my mother. Who, as I arrived, had just had her second operation. Apparently, the totally overworked nurse staff wasn't able to constantly check on the wound if it's infected, until my mother angrily marched over to them on Monday night because the wound stank. Which was, as was discovered, a rampant infection, and the beginning of necrosis. And as I hurried over, because operation? What operation? The first thing she whispered to me was: "Look under my nightie."- Me: "What? Why?" She:"I wanna now how far they went." Because there was a chance they would remove her entire colon, and stuck her with an artificial exit. Thankfully, they didn't. But even then, she lasted the next four and a half weeks in the hospital because of that (In comparison, usually patients go home after three to five days of an appendectomy). After the second operation, they also stuck her with a vacuum pump, which helped nothing except giving her excruciating pain. The reason for doing this? This way, they don't have to change the dressing each day, only twice a week. Why thanks, assbags, to think of your patient and my mother just as another subject of cost-oriented optimization. (You can't really fault the nurses, to be honest. I've seen the eye circles of them, they were even bigger than mine. Hospital just needs at least doubling the nurses there, and fast.)

Epilogue.

-It is now the beginning of March, and only because our regular doctor insisted to change the therapy to old-fashioned, Mom's wound is starting to heal up.
-The week after I got better, my TV broke. And two additional weeks later, my Mom's TV.
-The gash in my left leg? Still not healed completely.
-Meanwhile, my sister and her boyfriend managed to journey to Poland for a quick vacation. Where they got utterly lost, and then their car broke down.
-Said sister also managed to visit the emergency room twice in February. Her back and shoulder are extremey overtaxed due to her monotone tasks at work, and on those two days, she wasn't able to move her arm or neck at all.
-By the way, have I mentioned Satyria's ex-boyfriend pressed charges against her because she allegedly assaulted and bodily injured him? I haven't? Because he did.
-The last six weeks, I've been pushing a 60 to 70 hour week, because Lord knows I haven't nearly pushed myself too far yet. First, I got up from twenty to thirty hours a week on work. (Between semesters, it's in the contract that I work longer, due to the "additional freetime available". May I laugh?) I worked about seven hours each day, followed by six hours of studying for another exam that I had to push off before to get the Exam From Hell out of my way. Now that that's over, after over ten weeks, I can finally rest for a while...Great. Now I've jinxed it. Oh well. If you'll excuse me, I have to find a nice comfy bomb shelter.

...preferably padded so I won't bang my head again.