
I wrote this, therefore you should read it. (I’m really good at SAT analogies).

I wrote this, therefore you should read it. (I’m really good at SAT analogies).

Speaking of the dreaded N-word, Rick Santorum may have said it. I talk about it here…

I love you Mass Effect. But why did you make loving you so hard?
I was pretty well pissed off by the end of Mass Effect 3. I ended up writing a 2,500 word rant about it.

It’s St. Patty’s Day! Or maybe it’s St. Paddy’s day?! I’ve never been sure, and seeing as I don’t don’t really drink much or think the Irish are human, I don’t really care.
This is a time machine article. I wrote it for St. Patrick’s Day 2011. It pissed off some advertisers because it made being an alcoholic look bad. Our new boss doesn’t seem to care, so I posted it.

In this one, I assume the role of a presumptuous idiot. Not much of a stretch, come to think of it.

Read this article that I wrote, in which I drop some knowledge on your ass, leap day-style.

Hey! Check this out! It’s another thing that I wrote with my brain and hands! That’s two things that I wrote in two days in a row. Two things in a row officially qualifies me to consider myself a “writing machine”, much in the same way that cleaning the loose kitty litter on the floor makes me a “slave to these fucking cats.”

This is another thing I wrote. It’s kind of a spiritual sequel to this article, which is fun, because I’ve always wanted to be the asshole that says something is a “spiritual sequel.”

This is a thing I wrote. It’s about military MREs, or “Meal, Ready To Eat.” It’s the stuff our soldiers eat on the battlefield. But not while in battle. That would be really stupid of them. Besides, who would want to be shot at and be eating an atrocious omelet at the same time? That would be like being in Hell and putting in a request to take a peek over the fence to watch the super-fun volleyball tournament they’re having in Heaven — it would just make you feel that much worse about your situation.
Thank you, Soldiers! You, collectively and individually, have more balls then the rest of us. And seeing as I have no idea what it’s like to be shot at, I will say that by simply eating MREs every day you have proven that you are tougher than I will ever be. Now, if you will excuse me, I’m going to do some more whining and complaining about how the sandwich I just ordered came with a sour pickle and not the half-sour I was hoping for.
I’m such a pussy. It’s rather remarkable, really.
Here’s the link:

I got paid to write this. It almost isn’t fair.
Read it. I had too much fun writing it.