The following is the latest in a series of journal entries chronicling the author’s descent into next-gen gaming degeneracy and assorted geekery – from getting his first television in years to trying to figure out why the @$@$&@@ you need two goddamn directional pads just to walk down an effing hallway. (more…)
My father is a jock. He took the pitcher’s mound on his high school baseball team and was good enough in college to be scouted for a spot in the old Oakland A’s bullpen. He currently refuses to allow bad knees and a bad back to keep him off the golf course. He religiously attends the college basketball games of his alma mater and watches whatever sport is in season on television at high volume.
I, on the other hand, am fairly incompetent as an athlete. When I played basketball in high school, it was all I could do to hit the backboard with a shot, and I had to look at the ball to dribble it properly. (more…)
