St. George and the Dragon

Gather 'round, lords and ladies. Allow me to play the jester and delight you with the very best of medieval entertainment and inebriation:


The following rules were faithfully scribed by the beautiful Caitlin Hill, as dictated on the fly by two drunken duelists (myself and one Mark Cugini, who did an amazing job of hanging tough as I changed the rules to fit my needs throughout the game).

Required armament:
- 6 ping pong balls
- 3 large cups (towers)
- 2 medium cups (chambers)
- 3 small cups (turrets)
- 2 water cups (moats)

Basic Play:
Set-up is like beer pong, except players can build their own castles any way they'd like, provided each cup is at their end of the table, accessible, and stable (so it won't fall over if hit by a ping-pong ball) – players must okay the opponent's construction before the game begins. You must also agree on house rules for Peasant's Revolt, Knighthood, and the Sword in the Stone (explained below). A Whiskey Bonus Cup may also be decided upon at this time.


A possible castle construction, with turrets mounted atop the towers and chambers. Castle structures should be stable enough to withstand enemy fire.
Game Start – Each player gets 3 balls.
First shot is simultaneous – players maintain eye contact and do not look at the cups. If no one sinks a shot, players immediately begin a Barrage--rapidly shooting available ping pong balls until a cup is landed. If opposing cups are landed simultaneously, Barrage continues until two cups are landed on one side.

First to play gets to use remaining balls in play for his/her turn (i.e. if Player 1 sinks the first shot, Player 1 then shoots the remaining five balls).


Here, Player 1 has chosen to build a lovely fortress in the mountains.
Storming a Castle:
Unlike regular Beer Pong, certain cups require several balls to be "stormed," forcing the opposing player to remove the cup and drink the contents:
Towers (large cups) take 3 balls to storm
Chambers (medium cups) take 2 balls to storm
Turrets (small cups) take 1 ball to storm, same as traditional Beer Pong


The battlefield. Note the captured balls in the tower on the left, and the differing castle structures.
If a ball lands in a "turret" (small cup), opposing player drinks the cup and the ball goes into the water cup "moat" (to be used by opposing player when his/her turn begins). Balls sunk in a medium or large cup stay in that cup until the cup is "stormed." These balls are considered "captured" and are out of play.


Close-up of captured balls.
If a player doesn't get the necessary "stormed" total in a cup in one turn, the "captured" balls stay in the cup until the necessary total is reached (i.e. if Player 1 only lands 1 ball in a medium cup, it stays there, captured, until a second ball is landed in that cup, even over several turns).

Once a cup is stormed, the balls it contained are put back into play for the opponent's next turn, unless Knighthood is achieved:

Knighthood (optional):
If 3 balls are landed in a large cup in one turn, all 3 balls go back to the shooter and that turn continues. This is the only event that returns balls, except in the case of a "Peasant's Revolt."

Peasant's Revolt:
If all 6 balls are captured, all 6 balls are removed from the cups and go to the owners of the castles. However close a player is to storming a cup, the total starts back at zero for all remaining cups. Play continues for the player whose castle contains the most captured balls (so if Player 1 has 4 balls captured in his castle, Player 1 takes the next turn and shoots 4 balls).


Castle Pong: always goes down smooth.
The Sword in the Stone (optional endgame):
Loser shoots all 6 balls at any remaining cups on winner's side, and continues shooting until he/she misses. The winner drinks any cups "stormed," loser drinks remaining cups.


Yes, pour your beer, Mark--but not even your Griffin familiar can save you now.

Goin' for Broke

So Mason, Larn's beau and fellow poker aficionado, put me on the trail of a great iTouch app (linked behind the image, if you have iTunes). I'd like to think it's improving my poker game, but like I told J.R. as we went for lunch yesterday, Hold 'Em is about reading your opponents, not your cards. Still, for all that, the game does demonstrate the results of foolish betting, which is a lesson I need from time to time. For those who just can't keep winning hands straight, there's a decent help section too. Pusateri would love this game--his catch phrase is "more cards faster," and you can burn through hands as quickly as you like with just a swipe (I fold about five pocket pairs in a minute, and every one hurts). Maybe next time I'm at his table, I'll be able to put those trained instincts to use; I think I've donated enough to his baby fund.

So I'm starting to get to know the American University firsties...pretty cool bunch, and I love how they're bringing out the foolishness in the second-years. Talking to Zac, Anne, and Jenny outside is totally different when Mark and Todd are lookin' on in bemusement. I dunno--I've always been a performer, so I appreciate a change-up in the audience. Mary is having a meet n' greet tomorrow night (already christened the "hurricane party" due to the feared effects of Tropical Storm Hanna. Sleepover pending?), and it promises to be quite the affair. Mark and Todd have already demonstrated their drinking prowess in helping me take down the Baltika 9 at Brickskeller last night (17oz bottles are no joke). I'll try to behave, but I make no promises.

Finally...I'm trying out a new commenting system from Disqus, starting with this post. I like their admin interface quite a bit, but its performance at the helm remains to be seen. If you read this, drop a comment and let me know what you think of it. Easy to use? Pain in the ass?

Peace n' love. JENNY JENNY JENNY JENNY JENNY!

Oh No You Didn't!

Sucker try to play me but you never paid me, never
Payback is-a comin', you will be runnin' forever
Until I get my vengeance, I will never end this mayhem
I'm a mercenary, you ain't got a prayer, you owe meee!

Mercenaries 2 jingle by Chris Tilton. Delicious.

A new web browser called Google Chrome is out, and oh my god is it beautiful. I've barely begun toying with it, but I'm immediately struck by how pretty it is. New tabs flow as if spawned from the finger of Artemis. My guess is there is specific Google code that can be used to ooze more gorgeous onto pages created specifically for Chrome. It's not a grand slam--there are some features that read like bugs to me, such as the URL bar coloring--but it's definitely a base hit in a game where the major players are still learning to hold a bat. (Sorry, Firefox--you know I love you.)

Thanks to the Bertainas for hosting a great Labor Day picnic on Sunday. We got to play flag football (yup, Abert brought flags. Take note, scouts, that's preparedness). Caitlin yelled at me a lot, and I got turned on. In a completely uncalled-for but somewhat expected move, I sacked the hell out of 95-lb Kelsey. So wrong. I mean, just look at that innocent face. It was good seeing everyone again, many ass-slaps were handed out, and at the end I came out with what Mary swears is a back massager, but looks more like a...well, judge for yourself.


Ok, so that's not quite it, but make it green, add a spring, and give it to someone with a dirty mind like mine. The resemblance is obvious.

In other news...finally got the office set up just so, and it is a pleasure to come to work. Got my toys, got my twin PCs and monitor triplets, and the view outdoors ain't half bad either (though it's a constant battle of the blinds: I like seeing the people outside, Lori finds it distracting, and J.R. can do without the sun beating down on him). When everyone breaks for lunch, though....muah hah hah hah.






So Garb Fussell may come to work with me at CAP. I'm sorta-friends with the chick who'll hire him (note that's who will, not who may), so I keep dropping buzz words. She's hung up on another job she has to fill first (she's somewhat staffless now, with many key Campus Progress members moving on to different things). Garb is thinking about applying for the higher-priority job (a smart move, I think), so I talked to Shereen and she seemed pretty happy about the prospect. We'll see how it plays out.

Aw, snap. Bakari needs some guidance in the ways of computer groove, so I'm off to hook him up.

First you try to trap me, then you bust a cap in my ass
Such humiliation will bring annhialation at last
It will be delicious when I get vicious tomorrow
There's no second chances, you will do the dance of sorrooow...

UPDATE: South America pics are finally up, but not all are rotated and came out better than I expected.

Livin' like Fable

I finally sketched what I want my tattoo to look like. It's rough--I still have to figure out the shading and coloring--but it's got all the basic elements, and the ankh is dead perfect.

Anyway, have a look, y'all, and hit me back with what you think. I'm kind of excited, myself. :)



EDIT: Forgot to mention locale. The tat's going here:



UPDATE: I'll be visiting Tony Morrell at Jinx Proof Tattoos, provided I can get an appointment. He comes highly recommended from a coworker who's had quite a bit of work done, herself.

Pretty

Millions of fireworks, each exploding in one final shower of glory before vanishing from existence forever.

That's the image that played in my head as we drove home tonight. The official soundtrack for the movie consisted of conversations I had at dinner with the American University crowd. How thinking you're a superhero and being one isn't really all that different. How Will-I-Am is Will-I-Ain't present in the market. How to finger-pop olives.

I thought about seeing Sean! again, about how things change, about how things don't. I thought about how much I enjoy surprises, and how laughter come so easily. I thought about laughing alone in a field.

I thought about the tattoo I'm going to get--the one of the joker with the ansated iron-cross tattoo. I thought about how important symbolism can be, if what you think doesn't always fit into words. I thought about how important self-control is. I thought briefly of my brother--and then I played with the dogs.

I thought about awkward brownies.

Doodles from the Dark Side

Brought to you by yet another pointless meeting...



I'm really glad we take the time to share our useless drivel once a week. I mean, just look at the level of detail on that rabbox.

Freya inadvertently put a gun to my head

And made me do a bad, bad thing.

Google image search meme. Search for your answer for each one, and pick your favorite from the first 3 pages.

Your first name:

Your middle name:

Your last name:

Your age:

A place you would like to visit:

Your favorite place to be:


The name of a past love:

Your college degree or concentration:

Your grandmother's first name:

Where you grew up:

Your childhood pet's name:

Your best friend's nickname:

Your first job:

Your favorite food:

Your favorite color:

What you are doing right now:

One of your bad habits:

Sotto Voce

Finally posting as an original soul (being drunk puts you in touch with who you really wanna be). And so I write...

So I kind of wish Tropic Thunder was awesome in a contextual super-elevated sort of way, but it was much overt in its worth. (Then again, subtlety usually gets past me, so maybe this is the only way I'll enjoy a film). Robert Downey Jr. delivered a star performance as an Australian introspection that rivaled Crocodile Dundee in its inaccuracy and amusement. Jack Black was perfect in his heroin-fueled hotheadedness, and I have to say that I hate Tom Cruise and Ben Stiller a little less for their work in this flick.

Caitlin, Rick and I did poker at the Ferguson's place (Lauren and Mason--cute couple--and thar neighbors doing a little gambling). I finally won, taking a grand pot of about 35 dollars. After Burger King, that left me with $20 in winnings. I was happy.

Then we drove home, and I could not. stop. laughing. Constant hiccuping high-pitched squeaking. I have never laughed so hard (and I'm pretty sure it was over complete nonsense. Mildly ironic satiric commentary is much funnier when you're in the right place). Rick and Jeremy both had me in stitches (Caitlin, my dear and trusted wife, was good enough to drive my sorry ass home).

SPEAKING of sorry asses, we saw Tropic Thunder tonight and it was surprisingly funny. There were several scenes that just caught me off guard, and the more routine plot elements were cleverly done. Not a bad game--and I definitely recommended it to my friends.

So I need to remind all the AU crowd to use Anyvite for their party invitations in the future. It still sucks to see them using Evite on occasion, just because Evite is so awkward to work with. It's really more trouble than its worth, and I'd love to see the superior specimen win out on this one. I suppose I'll see.

Mmm...specimens, evolution, Spore and Fable II. I'm so excited for all the video games coming out soon. It promises to be an excellent fall.

So, in summation....great night, great friends, great opportunities and experiences. Good night and good luck, Seattle.

OH! New office and the fantasy football draft that I finally enjoyed...more news to follow.

A Game of Chance

Pub Games. Poker night. Softball practice. Studying code.

Some obvious connections, some obscure. It reminds me of a sensation I used to experience in college. Jeff and I would frequent a coffee bar called the Espressery, and there we would play many games of chess. Two, three games in a sitting. After an hour of pondering the possibilities on the board (rook takes knight, bishop to guard the queen, trap that one behind the pawns), I realized that life can be regarded in a similar way (finish ThinkProgress updates tonight, leave tomorrow open for the softball playoffs, take the evening for celebrating with drinks). Steps, and the pathes they lead us down, working toward a common goal. Dominate. Succeed. Win.

I spent about an hour this evening reading old LJ posts (softball practice was canceled since we're short enough players to field BP). I read through the roughest times with a particular relish...there were days when I really thought things couldn't get worse and wouldn't get better. I'm very glad I turned out to be wrong on both counts--the depth of horrible experiences gives one breadth of character, and the salve of wonderful events teach us that there is always more than the moment.

Rereading the old posts had a secondary effect I didn't expect. It reminded me of fire. Youthful passion, some would call it--overcompensating chemicals of teen existence is as good a label. I used to be much, much more intense.

Evidenced by the fact that it's fantasy football draft time. I think I'd like to win this year. :D

Hmm...useful

Ratio calculator from The Continuum. Even the name is cool.

In a non-technical field but still filed under "Useful." One of the Penn State boys, Jeff Morin, recently made a play at success with Anyvite, an extremely easy-to-use social event manager. Having wasted several hours over email with Evite's less-than-helpful staff, I'd pretty much resigned myself to living with annoyance. Evite does a terrible job of handling contacts (remembering, importing, saving, grouping) and is largely built to drive page hits (ever wonder why you can't RSVP right from the email? That'd be why).

Anyvite's a breath of fresh air. It's simple and straightforward while adding features I didn't even think I'd need. Event feeds keep you posted on what's going on in your social circles. It even caters to the indecisive: Anyvite lets you resurrect canceled events and reschedule them.

I'm trying really hard not to sound like I'm advertising, but fact is, I watch enough TV to subconciously mimic commercials when I want to relate a good product. So forgive me my banter, or don't, but check out Anyvite. You'll wonder how you ever used anything else. (Dammit.)

National Music Video Day

Flobots - Handlebars

Woop!

So I finally manned up. After--what, six months?--of putting it off, I talked to Coach Adam and sold my soul to the devil of coed office sports.



I joined the softball team. Pic above is from last night, the annual Staff v. Intern game (and yes, I'm sporting my coed threads from Meridian One). That was a HUGE social event, and I was fairly shocked--at least 50 people turned out, some playing, some just chilling, plenty of beer floating around as the staff proceeded to pummel the interns. There were some awesome players on both sides, but in the end our numbers won out (about 25 staff playing against 10 young'uns). Just another example of how great it is to work at CAP.

So tonight was my first real game with the team, and I did not fail to impress with my usual jester performance. Bottom of the seventh, we're down by one, man on second, two outs, and I'm at bat. Four wild pitches go by (there's a no-strike rule in place for the league, but still, I'm selective). The pitcher finally lets off one that's a little high--just where I like it--and I've barely made up my mind to swing when the bat makes contact. My hesitation wound up working in my favor; the ball slowly sauntered off toward third base, leaving me plenty of time to get to first and then second after an overzealous throw sails over the baseman's head (who, on a side note, was absolutely livid--apparently bunts are illegal, and even though I followed through on the swing, it appeared my heart wasn't in it).

Ok. So the swing could have been slightly less shady, but I'm on second and all's well. Score's tied, so all I have to do is make it home and we're golden. The pitch, a swing--crack, ball sails off. I speed toward third, my eyes on Jack the base coach, not entirely sure if the ball's going to be caught (in which case, I'd have to beat the throw back to second base). I'm two feet shy of third when Jack snaps his gaze back to me and screams "SCORE!"

My immediate dilemma: at 6'4" and 160lbs, my physiology dictates that my brakes just aren't that good. I try to round off on third, but momentum's the name of the game and I wind up behind the other team, trying desperately to get home. Two folding chairs in the way--leap over those--and I come within sight of my goal only to see the catcher fumbling with the ball. I manage to plant a foot firmly on the plate just as he regains control and taps me on the chest. Safe, game, home team's the winner and that's all she wrote.

Adam--after assuring himself that I had not intentionally bunted--kindly suggests that next time, I try to keep my performance on the field. Jack informs me that my acrobatics came equipped with sound effects; turns out I'd let out a "Woop!" as I hopped the chairs on the sideline. A nickname is born. We'll see if it sticks. The next game is Monday, and God help me, I'm actually looking forward to it. It's a great team, skilled, fun to play with, and not overly serious.

Let's go, Leftfielders. More on Facebook.