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Tag Archives: sense

    I apologize for my recent hiatus, I was busy NOT BEING CLEANED BY MY SHOWER! [cue cheering audience] So let me fill you guys in. If you haven’t already read my previous post about My Shower, I suggest you do so before continuing.

SO, I haven’t exactly used my bathroom shower. I have refused to touch it. For the past two years or so I have used my parents bathroom which is FAR FAR superior to my bathroom shower which sucks ass! Today I was forced to use it because my parents had already fallen asleep and I’m not desperate to the point where I sneak my way around their room and into the bathroom JUST to take a shower. So I decided to just give my shower another try.

Horrible HORRIBLE mistake! When I turn the dials to get the water going, the first thing I hear is this awful, awful high pitched whining sound- which makes no sense because first of all, its water and how can water make such an irritating racket?! And second of all, thats just ridiculous. So after the hot water kicks in and and I pull the pin up to get the pathetic flow of water up to the shower head, I find my self awash in a huge torrent of water consulted by a small trickle of water. Great. You know, a bad shower is like a getting a massage from a really weak person, you feel worse and its a real waste of your time (especially if the person who is massaging you always says that they are good giving out massages, but they totally aren’t; so now he/she is lying to you right to your face back) So now I’m huddling once again under this shower head like a hobo/box maven, and now for some apparent reason there is a high pitched whining sound. Basically I’m being peed on, annoyed by this awful sound and I feel less clean because all of the oil from my hair is slowly coating the rest of my body from top to bottom in a thin layer of teenager sweat (yeah it sounds bad, but I assure you it WAS bad). The pressure from the trickle does nothing to help me get rid of dead skin or even wash away sweat from the day which is the total purpose of taking a shower. Overall I think the shower didn’t clean me at all, in fact I know it didn’t. All it did was slowly distribute my dirty sweat evenly over my whole body so every part of me now feels like an overweight person after a labored breathing session. AGH GOD! SMITE DOWN THY SHOWER!

So yeah. Here I sit at my computer, fresh nicely dirty from the shower writing to you people on the internet about my troubles with my shower. If you’ve read this far, you clearly have nothing else better to do, so I suggest you leave me a comment that relates to showers- your own perhaps or at least something that will cheer me up and make me feel like people are actually reading this. Thanks!

-Neverhitboxes

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    So let me admit right here, that I am a big fan of Zelda. I bought both the Wii and Zelda at launch and have spent 40+ hours playing it. Being the young and determined person I am, I beat the game in 35 hours. My Dad on the other hand, is not even half way through yet and has spent 100+ hours (according to his save file). Here begins my story.

“God Dammit!” “Shit!” “Oh fuck! I have to do it again?!” These are the sounds that emanate from the downstairs living room. My Dad is playing Zelda again. My Dad is well into his mid fifties and wasn’t born into a generation where video games existed, but even with that said it still doesn’t stop him from swearing up a storm when he gets knocked off his horse or when he dies in a boss battle. My Dad is truly determined to do whatever it takes to beat Zelda. He calls me when I’m out with friends (true story) and asks me, “Hey Jeff, how do you do a Shield Attack? It keeps asking me to do a shield attack and I have no CLUE (with emphasis) what the hell its talking about!” Then I will have to tell him how to do it, and chances are he probably still won’t get it, but by some chance, he discovers how to do it by pure luck accident (aka wave around the controllers).

            His sense of direction is alright in real life, but for some odd reason, real-life doesn’t transfer to what I call, “A Virtual Sense of Direction”(a term coined by me). He always runs around in circles and goes back into rooms he has already been in and wonders why everything looks familiar. It’s a true test of patience, I’ll have to say. I really have to try and not point out what he has to do, or beg him to let me do it for him. It is painful to watch, in fact I’m pretty sure that if you wanted to torture someone, all one would have to do is tie them down and make him/her watch my Dad play Zelda (I can hear their screams of frustration as I type this, “Oh God! You already did that temple!! Somebody, please, I’ll do anything! Get this man a strategy guide!!”). That’s why I usually bring a book with me so I don’t have to silently weep while watching him play (in fact when my brothers came down from LA, my brother Michael pointed out that that we all started reading books when my Dad began to play Zelda).

            Dad, I love you, but your navigation skills I’m afraid are in another castle.

 -Neverhitboxes