September 30: Where I’m from.

evil horde?

This is Mataoka–Mr. Snerguls is judging the Miss Murloc contest down at the Steam Pools (though I hear it’s rigged–he has a preference for Miss Elwynn Forest girls) and my human doesn’t know I took over her computer while she’s at work. Humans. So trusting. So slow to respond. I understand that in one of your epic wars…never mind. Put your seal on that bloody order, Varian!)

I’ve been keeping track of the story as best as I can – much of it was told to me as a child, and seemed like ghost stories of shadowy spirits and beasts. The Orcs represent betrayal to us, and death. But the winds have changed, and the colors shifted, so it’s time to understand these stories as a grown Draenei. Do I hate the Orcs? Hate the entire Horde? I cannot, and will not. But I need to know who wants me, and mine, dead.

Part 1: Kargath

Part 2: Grommash

Part 3: Durotan

Part 4: Kilrogg

Part 5: Maraad

There are some who understand how I feel. That I do not paint all with a broad brush, though many would of me. With Love From Draenor is one place where those who seek friendship over blood go.

As one of Velan's chosen...
As one of Velan’s chosen…

Where I’m from? I am from Azuremyst. I am from hope over death, and light over darkness. I will never understand those who seek power over life.

Never.

OLRG: Cater to the Killers

WE. ARE. WONDERFUL.
WE. ARE. WONDERFUL.

You know what heats me up? Gets my goat?  Chaps my fanny?*

You remember that gamer’s quiz I had ya’ll take? I think folks mixed it up with another quiz, but that’s cool. The one I had you take divides us gamers into four shifting groups: killer, socializer, achiever, and explorer. Okay, cool. Blizzard created a world that suits all of us: hybrids, triads, and quadranticii. (I made that word up.) Except that…really…it’s all a lie. They really made Azeroth for the killers. And not that being a killer is all bad. Except at expansion’s end time, when the achievements and feats of strength start slipping through our fingers like so much money on payday.

For example, I have been pounding my f8kk*king head against the snake hide trying to kill Nibbleh. In a perfect world, we practice, we learn from mistakes, we study, and eventually there is an expectation of success. At no point in time has this fight been different from the other 1,327 attempts I’ve tried, so I’ve learned nothing, know nothing, and am only frustrated and angry. So I see my Feat of Strength for Season One slip through my grasp, until I get so angry and petulant I have to order Leet Druid to do it for me.  And suffer the incoming lecture from him. At this point, I don’t give a damn. Just get IT DONE. Now the Killers of Azeroth have long completed the Brawler’s Guild, warlock fire, legendary cloaks, heroic achievements, and are spending their free time exploring the Beta and catching all the fish.

WHY FOR THE LOVE OF F*CK DOES BLIZZARD TAKE AWAY THINGS?

Not. The. Only. One.
Not. The. Only. One.

What makes games fun? Well here is the 1980 white paper on this subject. What? Don’t have time to read that silliness? Don’t blame you. I can tell you what makes games NOT fun: increasing the frustration level too high it tweaks our cortisol levels of those loyal subscribers that even the most satisfying achievements are out of reach, so it becomes a somewhat abusive relationship.

So, hey, Blizzard? We Old Ladies want to get stuff done. And we pay the bills. So if you want us to KEEP subscribing, please reconsider your misguided approach. Keep all content and ponies in the game. We’ll get around to it sooner or later, in our own time. And rock that Wonder Woman.

 

Theme song: Pretend We’re Dead

*Not the NZ fanny. The other kind. Well, maybe that kind. Perhaps. Sometimes.

Postscript:

But this…

 

this.

RTMT: You’re going to choke!

Today’s Random Tuesday Morning Thought is brought to you by Comcast, Who Can’t Get Its Sh*t Together, So Now It’s Wednesday.

“Do you want to be sent to your room and go sleep by yourself? And nobody will see you ever again?” 

You have probably seen this by now. I don’t care. This. Was. Me. I have always been a diva in my own narrative. I would send myself to my room, denying my mother of my charming company, and stage elaborate productions where of course, I was the star.

Yesterday was a great day: I am in MY GROOVE PEEPS. Until my boss saw one little thing I intentionally didn’t do, one little hoop I decided the poodles did not have to jump through, and she called me on it. Man, what’s a girl to do but get her fancy dress on when she gets home, and sing a round of Frozen to an adoring audience? (Translation: Kellda struts her fancy robes and raids the night away!) Alas, it was not meant to be.

Comcast sucks.

Comcast blows.

Comcast sucks and blows.

My Internet was out until about five minutes ago. I reset everything I could, and even killed a spider while pulling out the wires, pieces of dog food, and dust bunnies with teeth. I fixed it, but still, the night is gone. Thursday night I have to work, so can’t make it then. either. It was weird though, not having my usual routine.

I….

I made dinner.

I tried to read my next book for book club, but need my old lady glasses and couldn’t find them so I just used cell data to play Hearthstone. I watched The Daily Show, and mused at all the folks who want to kill everyone. Talk about shit getting real.

I responded to a Facebook post of a zealous Christian acquaintance who says climate change is a hoax.

And I went to sleep trying to scrape off the bullshit and nonsense that is the world, and think about gnome kisses and knights in shining armor.

I set up the coffee pot for the this morning the night before, so there would be caffeine. It’s not all bad.

Postscript:

I guess Blizzard felt sorry for me, because it gave Kellda a Blue Drake:

blue

 

September 24: Loud

This little man drives me insane.
This little man drives me insane.

The inconsistency of Ventrilo drives me insane: one friend’s voice is sultry and soft, one player’s voice punctuate and punches my ear drums, one friend’s voice speaks over mine, not because of rudeness, but simply because we are all disembodied voices in bandwidth, and don’t use visual cues to see our facial expressions (can I get a HALLA!) I am right there in Matticus’ corner about no chat in Hearthstone. That would be a nightmare. It’s hard to learn how to take turns in Vent, but usually defaulting to the raid leader is the best course of action. Listen if someone is talking, wait your turn, and try to let them finish. Communication is challenging on a good day, much less with voices from darkness.