well sad but so treu
I'm with you, Gary. That was actually painful. Add to it the fact that my two year old was in the room with me when I started playing it . . . the shouting caught his attention, but I hope he didn't make out any repeatable syllables.
~ Member: Tex Murphy's Mutant League, Crazy 888's Chapter~
*Revitalizing Old San Francisco's Chandler Avenue District With Style*
(also known as Steve Douglas, but usually by people less awesome than UTMers)
*Revitalizing Old San Francisco's Chandler Avenue District With Style*
(also known as Steve Douglas, but usually by people less awesome than UTMers)
I put it on the TV for the family so see and everyone dug it, bursting out into laughter and made me replay it a few times. Especially my 11 year old norwegian nephew cracked up, and wondered what game that was and where he could get it - I guess that gives an idea of what my family's like 
Bests, Rockefeller
Bests, Rockefeller
"Twenty years from now, you will be more disappointed by the things you didn't do than by the ones you did do"
"ERROR: Error Code Does Not Indicate An Error"
"ERROR: Error Code Does Not Indicate An Error"
A lot like mine! 
I know it wasn't right, and I know it wasn't what a lot of people would accept in their own families, but there was constant cursing at my dinner table when I was younger. It gave me a cursing problem that I have to this day. I try to curb it when I'm typing, because I can edit it, but my voice ...
Let's just say there is a good reason I work the third shift. I curse like three different sailors all night long.
It's all about how we were raised that speaks of what is acceptable and unacceptable to watch, play, listen to. That line of acceptability is getting placed farther and farther back into what used to be "unacceptable" by previous generations, every year.
I guess when we told our parents that when we got older, we'd do what we wanted, we weren't kidding.
I know it wasn't right, and I know it wasn't what a lot of people would accept in their own families, but there was constant cursing at my dinner table when I was younger. It gave me a cursing problem that I have to this day. I try to curb it when I'm typing, because I can edit it, but my voice ...
Let's just say there is a good reason I work the third shift. I curse like three different sailors all night long.
It's all about how we were raised that speaks of what is acceptable and unacceptable to watch, play, listen to. That line of acceptability is getting placed farther and farther back into what used to be "unacceptable" by previous generations, every year.
I guess when we told our parents that when we got older, we'd do what we wanted, we weren't kidding.
I'm not fat ... I'm festively plump.
Which reminds me of a joke. . .
Two brothers come to the breakfast table. Mom's in the kitchen, and dad's at the table, too. Mom asks the older boy, "James, what would you like for breakfast?" In his best, sleepy, moody teenage voice James mutters "Uhhh, give me some f*****g cornflakes." Dad looks up, reaches over the table and smacks James a good one right across the face, nearly knocking him of the chair.
Dad then looks at junior and asks, "And what do YOU want for breakfast?"
Little Billy answers, "Well, I'm not sure. . .but I know I don't want any f*****g cornflakes."
Two brothers come to the breakfast table. Mom's in the kitchen, and dad's at the table, too. Mom asks the older boy, "James, what would you like for breakfast?" In his best, sleepy, moody teenage voice James mutters "Uhhh, give me some f*****g cornflakes." Dad looks up, reaches over the table and smacks James a good one right across the face, nearly knocking him of the chair.
Dad then looks at junior and asks, "And what do YOU want for breakfast?"
Little Billy answers, "Well, I'm not sure. . .but I know I don't want any f*****g cornflakes."
Never too late for coffee, never too early for beer.