Friday, November 21, 2003

Another Literati update: (yes, I have a sickness...)

1578. Played a few games against a few different people. Lost 1, won 2.

It seems harder to move up than down. Actually when you beat stronger players, your score goes up more than when you beat people below you. It almost makes the game like a role playing game with experience points and such. I am a masterful word wizard on a grand quest for treasure and fame! As I defeat the greatest foes my experience grows! As I fail in battle, my level of life reduces somewhat. I am a great warrior!

OK, I'm just a geek. I know it. Stop laughing.

Literati update:

1569. I just beat Missyella1. She was a good, funny, clever player.

  • THE THING: The game Literati.
          If you like Scrabble™
              This is the game for you.
                  Online all the time!
    I am now addicted to an online game. It's dangerous.

    I actually heard about it from Jack Black, when he was on the Daily Show. He mentioned that he played it all the time.

    This game is called Literati, and it is basically like Scrabble, design-wise. You get seven letters, and you have to place them, crossword-puzzle-style on a board.

    The design of the board is slightly different (you place the tiles on the intersections of lines, and the double- and triple-value spaces are in different places), and the point spread is smaller (the Q and Z are worth '5').

    Also, I think the tile distribution is actually somewhat RANDOM.

    It's just great to be able to hop pon, play a quick game and get off.

    Except -- if you play a game labelled as "rated", they keep your rating, so you can see how you do against all the other players.

    Right now I am a 1557. My highest so far: 1623.

    The highest I've seen on the site was in the 1870's...

    I could get there. I'll keep you posted.

Thursday, November 20, 2003

  • THE THING: Cranky in the cafe
          Dear every stranger:
              If you lecture me, prepare
                  for a lecture back.
    I was here late the other night at work. After a long day, and before what would prove to be an annoying night, I decided to go to the cafeteria for a salad. I just wanted a salad. Not a hassle.

    I got my food, and got a large Cherry Coke from the soda fountain thingy. They have styrofoam cups for this purpose. I used it appropriately, and moved down to the line to pay for my food.

    A student was in front of me. She was a sort of goth looking thing, and she was clicking her teeth as I set my tray down next to her. I really don't care what you wear, but if you are going to wear pants AND a skirt, you really have nothing to say to me. Especially when I'm cranky.

    Alas, she made her annoyed clicky sound one more time, and said, in an exasperated, breathy voice, "I just have to say this: That styrofoam cup is terrible for the environment. It doesn't decompose ever. You should use one of these!", and she proudly held up one of the cups they have for coffee. It is a white cardboard cup with the coffee brand name on it.

    I knew that I was about to do one of three things:

    (1) Punch her right in the mouth. I dismissed this idea, expecting that I might be fired.
    (2) Say, "You're right!", and dump the soda down the front of her black leather chained jacket and skirt and pants. I expected a similar result as (1), so I decided against this, as well.
    (3) Just get righteous back. If not righteous-er.

    I went with (3).

    "You're crazy." I told her.

    It was as if I had chosen (1) or (2) above. I honestly thought that her left eye was going to come flying out of it's socket into my face.

    "Wha--? Wha--? Wha--?" she stammered.

    Listen, I used to me Mr. Environmental Guy. I was Mr. Vegetarian Guy for about 10 years. I have grown up and gotten old and bitter. I have gone back to eating meat and not freaking out over styrofoam cups. I still pack up my recycling and take it to the recycling center. I do my little things, but I'm not nutty about it. And I was in no mood to hear it from goth girl.

    "You're crazy," I told her again. [The following rant is not word for word. I have filled in a couple words here and there that probably would have sounded better, but all of the major points were in there.] "This is way better for the environment than your cup. You said it yourself: mine does not decompose. It does not become part of the environment. Yours has bleaches and dyes that will become part of the system. Mine goes to the landfill, and soon we will have to deal with it. I am actually even accelerating the technology to deal with it."

    Her head was shaking back and forth. Actually it was more like twitching. Have you ever seen a cat or a dog pick up a toy, and shake it real quick back and forth? I guess it's trying to make sure it's dead or something... anyway, her head was doing that -- twitchytwitchytwich. twitchytwitchytwitch. And her eyes were blinking in an odd way. "You don't understand," she said, "even though it doesn't decompose, it's still toxic and animals can eat it and some chemicals leach out..."

    I just nodded, eyes wide in a patronizing way. I leaned forward and said, kind of whispery, "If you really cared, you'd bring a reusable mug."

    She just huffed and paid for her stuff and left.

    Don't lecture me when I'm cranky.

Monday, November 17, 2003

  • THE THING: An overheard discussion.
          It's always funny
              when street talk meets vegetables.
                  I'm glad I was there.
    I just heard the craziest conversation in the cafeteria here at the college.

    There were two guys (we'll refer to them as "inner city" folks) chatting as they approached the salad bar.

    I will try to recreate the conversation here. There is NO exaggeration in speaking style, in fact, I'm likely leaving out a lot of the street lingo, since I just don't have a lot of modern gangsta in me. I wish you could have heard it... you would understand so much more.

    I didn't see what they were looking at when one of them said, "Damn! Did you see that!? I gots ta get me some of that!"

    "Yeah, I saw that. Looks sweet to me. Let's get on that."

    And each one went to one side of the salad bar. Apparently they had been viewing a salad. I like salad as much as the next person, (possibly more, if there is hunks of cheese and balsamic vinegar around... MMmmmMMMmm...) but I would not have imagined these blokes discussing it in this fashion. They continued...

    "Yo! You have GOT to get some of that stuff on here!"

    "What stuff?"

    "You know, B! The stuff! That stuff, yo. You know."

    "Nah, man, what's the stuff?"

    A pause for thought. And then: "Ranch."


    "Yeah. Ranch."

    "Don't you mean Ceasar??"

    "Oh, yeah. That's right. Ceasar. Ranch is whack."

    "You were buggin' when you said 'Ranch'."