A Game in the Baking: 180 degrees fear of heights?

What is that over there?
It is my love of sloppy curry. There is something about curry that makes me want to cry. I'm not sure whether it is the intense post-propulsion that results from consuming mass amounts of the tantalising stuff (a spoonful or two) - or whether the beauty of so many luscious chunky hunks of monkey gonads causes me to reconsider swallowing my pride after my many attempts at chew-aside.

Do YOU - my fellow punching bag - have a clue?

----- anyway - - - - -

moving on...

Incest day. All my hobbles seemed so far away. Now it looks as though they're here to stay. Oh incest came incessantly... Suddenly! I'm not half the man I used to be, there's a macho hanging off of me, oh incest day came sullenly. Why, he had to blow? I don't know - they wouldn't say. My... Chest. is. so. sore. - now I long for Incest Day.

(Ok here's the game part, now that that that that that that that that that that that is off my chest...)

^^^^
Jesse the Jester. Never lear, for Joseph the Jiggler is hair.
I think the poor fellow has been copping it a little lately - - 0 - - especially from myself. I think it's worthy to note that he has in fact been a fantastic leader, and he has been getting a little stressed of late. Probably something to do with his amazing ability to be able to get a little high sometimes.

I witnessed PJ Panda Jester flaunting his almightiness yesterday. His impressive display of piercing tonalities and richter-scale raped stampeding really left me for the boars. I felt his sticky presence altering the neural structure of my brain. My pervacious tendencies caused me to be enscraptured by this newfound knowledge, hence Jester Jesse the PJ Panda has been permanently slotted into the deepest depths of my memory morgue .

Oh Jesse, dear Jesse. Please let me go. I mean no harm! I am only wanting to be just like you. Walk talk and act like you. The next best thing, but not quite you. I promise that I was only acting with the greater subtext in mind. Maybe one day you will understand. I really hope you do. For the purpose of [my] entertainment is to slaughter morality in all its stunning sluttiness. then again... Maybe YOU are the innocent one. In that case I forgive you. You will be kept for dessert (my predecessors have envied those who have earnt this highly reputable position).
So I congratulate you, for making it this far. I have seen others who have barely scraped through (bearing in mind that we are not there yet).

Are we there yet?
no
....
Are we there yet?
No
....
Are we there yet?
NO!
...
Are we there yet?
...
...
...
[silence, followed by deaf defying screams and rumbles of horrific bowel movements].
...
[scuffling and footsteps...]

Well, I sure am...
As for you, however... hmmmmm...

.
.
.
.
.
.


You poor poor individuals. I pity you.

Victims of the Game.

Stay tuned scabies and dental mince: Next time on Interactions in Interactivity...

THE POLITICS OF CRAZINESS...

Do not miss this fantastic opportunity for me to ransack your brains, and hold them ransom for the greater good. I shall be ruthless and chinny.

Sounds of Time - Part II: The Indefinite Rise of Illicit Culture

Fortunately for my furry friend's out there (panda's and the like, you know who you are) who actually care about the game, I have uncovered and excavated my lost filing system. The beautiful architecture has been unveiled in all it's deep complexity and inherent phantasmic stench.

Oh sorry I'm confused. No this time I'm referring to the non-research game. No, no, no. Not silly Warcraft (which is being played by some people in our class, they are deafeningly addicted. Yes I am referring to my insistent attempts at reviving the class from the grappling bond of awful turtle spirits).

The game this blog is based around.

So today I really did spend some time (far to much of my macho masochistic moments) quite confused over my briefcase placement. This ended up being deleted anyway, in favour of removing some of the stories from my dense filing system.

Speaking of witch.

I have been handed back to the game design team. Assigned with the task of incorporating imbedding audio into the rooms.
Hence, I am partially reverting back to one of my original roles... game compilation. I am quite happy with this as I have previously researched the induction of sound and music into AGS (being subject matter expert), and it seems logical to me.

Speaking of which.

I have had confirmation from Jason (our tutor) that he did not see my puzzles for the Asylum, which may very well have bumped our mark up a notch or two. I invested many hours on the perfection of this puzzle.
I feel that it is unjust that there was no verbal affirmation (that Jared, Cliff and I can recall) that we were to place all our completed puzzles in their appropriate folders on the server. For marking.

Yes. So that is my spiel.

I just had to look up how to spell spiel. I thought it was speil. Spee-ill. Spy-ell? Doesn't sound like that. Ah well. I suppose it would be spay-ill (like veil).
The peculiarities of The English Language.

We have Beta due next week.
I'm optimistic - others are less so.

We'll be fine.

WHO WANTS TO LIVE?
Positive.

WHO WANTS TO DIE!
Not I.

Pandemic of Pandemonium: The Pedantic Panda's Pyjama Pant Antics

You better watch out, you better not cry, you better not point I'm telling you why. The manta claws are coming to town.

He know's where you are sleeping, he knows you masturbate.
He know's that your bean bag is filled slowly should slowly should slowly what? ...Mistake.

Oh the joys of going to class on a Sunday morning at 10am (only you arrive an hour late) only to discover that there is no class.
Well not class in the normal sense. I'm talking 5 people. Yes F I V E. Fan ta see stick.

And I forgot to mention... were they working on the game? Yes. Yes they were.

So what was the problem then.
Well. You see... there was no 'problem' in the normal sense.
They were working on the game. Very hard at work. Focusing ever so clearly on the task at hand. Carefully selecting elements. Quickly taking out the opposition. Healing their character.

Woah! Backtrack!

Yes yes yes. It was not OUR game they were working on. It was another's game. Plus they were not working on it. They were PLAYING it. Wasting precious time.

So what game was this you ask? Well, none other than the highly addictive Warcraft.

Ok. You'd expect the Project Manager to come in and start yelling right?

Yeah Right.
No such luck.

So here's me. Entering with the best intentions to do a full days work - suddenly being roped into playing a game of Warcraft.
I was told they had been waiting for me to arrive as well. So they could start playing.

This resulted in a full day of Warcraft. And zero work. Bahaha.

Oh well it was fun.