Care to guess what I was watching?
---------
... well, that could have gone better.
Wish my head wasn't ringing like a damn bell at Sunday mass, too, come to think of it.
Ouch.
And here I am, all dressed up with nowhere to go. But up, that is.
Father would be proud ...
... fuck that.
I'm pretty sure I don't have a concussion, though, despite the fact that I think I blacked out there for a moment.
Eh, maybe it's just my head getting used to being introduced to steel girders. Once the disbelief about my skull not being splattered all over the landscape as a result of that passes, it's nothing to get too excited about.
Aaaaand the fact I just thought that must mean I got knocked around harder than I thought I did, since it did not sound sane in any way, shape, or form.
Wait, I'm thinking _sanity_.
Right. Sanity.
Nice.
Good joke there, me.
I think sanity went straight out the window the moment I decided to a)have conversations with dear old dad, who's been dead for the past couple of years, or b)play the glorified, dress-up version of cops and robbers.
Still trying to figure out which one the fuck I'm supposed to be on the latter, by the way.
I groan, pick myself up to my hands and knees, and shake off the cobwebs ... oh, bad _bad_ fucking pun there.
Just in time to see my friend about to get skewered by a piece of my own equipment, which is being swung about by someone, or some_thing_, that's black, hissy, and has far too many teeth for comfort.
There's a moment I want to dash forward and try to put myself in-between the sharp and poky bits sticking out from one 'wing' of said piece of equipment, before my brain comes back on from ... well, what'd you know, I _am_ concussed ... swimmingly fabulicious, that ... and I reach for the belt, flip a catch open, and double tap.
The glider, still in mid swing, blows up in the black thing's face.
Its/his screech of pain is music to my ears.
"Well, that was bracing," I say, and Pete looks at me like I've grown a second head.
Hi, I'm Harry Osborn.
I'm quite possibly insane, and recovering from a case of severe MPD with homicidal tendencies thrown in for good measure.
And I fucking _love_ technology.
Ain't it grand?
---
The Goblin: Legit?!?!
a shameless ripoff of another man's concept
----------
I'm disappointed in the latest Spider-Man flick. Too much crammed into too short a time with too little space given to character development ... or even properly paced and sized fight scenes (what can I say, I like large running battles. This one was short on them). There were cool bits, yeah, and I loved Campbell's and Stan's cameos, but the whole thing felt weak at the ending credits.
Besides, poetic justice aside, and not even pointing out that Harry survived a _point_fucking_blank_ bomb detonation with just getting half his mug scarred as a result so is puncture wounds like that wouldn't do him in immediately, he'd likely recover and not die like a sad little bitch ... oops, I think I just did
... yeah, anyway, why the hell didn't they do it like this?
Right, that's it, someone want this, feel free to pick it up since I'm not doing anything with it.
EDIT: Awww, shit, how do I put this into 'Ideas' where it was meant to be in the first place?
-Griever
---------
... well, that could have gone better.
Wish my head wasn't ringing like a damn bell at Sunday mass, too, come to think of it.
Ouch.
And here I am, all dressed up with nowhere to go. But up, that is.
Father would be proud ...
... fuck that.
I'm pretty sure I don't have a concussion, though, despite the fact that I think I blacked out there for a moment.
Eh, maybe it's just my head getting used to being introduced to steel girders. Once the disbelief about my skull not being splattered all over the landscape as a result of that passes, it's nothing to get too excited about.
Aaaaand the fact I just thought that must mean I got knocked around harder than I thought I did, since it did not sound sane in any way, shape, or form.
Wait, I'm thinking _sanity_.
Right. Sanity.
Nice.
Good joke there, me.
I think sanity went straight out the window the moment I decided to a)have conversations with dear old dad, who's been dead for the past couple of years, or b)play the glorified, dress-up version of cops and robbers.
Still trying to figure out which one the fuck I'm supposed to be on the latter, by the way.
I groan, pick myself up to my hands and knees, and shake off the cobwebs ... oh, bad _bad_ fucking pun there.
Just in time to see my friend about to get skewered by a piece of my own equipment, which is being swung about by someone, or some_thing_, that's black, hissy, and has far too many teeth for comfort.
There's a moment I want to dash forward and try to put myself in-between the sharp and poky bits sticking out from one 'wing' of said piece of equipment, before my brain comes back on from ... well, what'd you know, I _am_ concussed ... swimmingly fabulicious, that ... and I reach for the belt, flip a catch open, and double tap.
The glider, still in mid swing, blows up in the black thing's face.
Its/his screech of pain is music to my ears.
"Well, that was bracing," I say, and Pete looks at me like I've grown a second head.
Hi, I'm Harry Osborn.
I'm quite possibly insane, and recovering from a case of severe MPD with homicidal tendencies thrown in for good measure.
And I fucking _love_ technology.
Ain't it grand?
---
The Goblin: Legit?!?!
a shameless ripoff of another man's concept
----------
I'm disappointed in the latest Spider-Man flick. Too much crammed into too short a time with too little space given to character development ... or even properly paced and sized fight scenes (what can I say, I like large running battles. This one was short on them). There were cool bits, yeah, and I loved Campbell's and Stan's cameos, but the whole thing felt weak at the ending credits.
Besides, poetic justice aside, and not even pointing out that Harry survived a _point_fucking_blank_ bomb detonation with just getting half his mug scarred as a result so is puncture wounds like that wouldn't do him in immediately, he'd likely recover and not die like a sad little bitch ... oops, I think I just did
... yeah, anyway, why the hell didn't they do it like this?Right, that's it, someone want this, feel free to pick it up since I'm not doing anything with it.
EDIT: Awww, shit, how do I put this into 'Ideas' where it was meant to be in the first place?
-Griever