Simple Pleasures of Playing God, badly
Well my stint with Off-Road Velociraptor Safari has pretty much been over for a while, but, lucky readers, I’ve discovered another free game that’s easily as pointless and stupid and equally fun to play drunk. It is called “Spore Creature Creator” and if you search for that on the Internet I’m sure you’ll have no trouble finding it, you clever sprat.
The purpose of this game appears to be (I’m the first to admit that I have not read the readme) to create little cutmonsters and golliwogs of all shapes and sizes and other such creatures that shouldn’t exist (either physically, or for reasons of humanity, because their lives would be a constant cruel painful struggle).
After playing God, watch your hideous creations scuttle around the screen, dancing, jumping, or just attempting to perform basic functions like walking, all for your sadistic enjoyment.
There’s my Golliwog lookin’ cute!
That’s my Cutmonster, laugin’ with its cutty babies! Also, it flies.
And this is the Scuttlebeast. It’s two stories tall, has five mouths, one leg, four eyes, and two Charm organs. Clearly, the Scuttlebeast shouldn’t exist.
Party Logo Evolution
D:
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N: i like the deco choice (right?), but there is too much black space on the right part. the logo is a little not cohesive enough. also, i like using ratscratch photobooths for the banners, but it kinda has the same ring as “productions” you know? just a little
maybe take it off the banner and just have like helvetica caps RATSCRATCH.COM.
tell me what you think. and yes i’ll cahnge the buttons. i’m typing up the timeline etc… right now and i stated working on the commenting system last night but passed out
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D:
yes deco
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N: we don’t like it. it looks like an alien. try again. also, dan thinks you’re cute.
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N: the head doesn’t really evoke the party enough. the shh works, but i think like a XXX jug or a still or a flapper would work better. or give the guy a monocle. also speakeasy isn’t supposed to be that classy you know? like its secret and cutty and shit.
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D: From Wikipedia:
“The differences between a speakeasy and a blind pig were that a speakeasy was usually a higher class establishment (some in New York and other large cities even required coat and tie for men, and evening dress for women), and speakeasys invariably offered food, music or entertainment, or all three, besides drinking. A blind pig was generally a lower class dive, where only beer and liquor were available.”
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N: lol. 1921 blind pig.
i was just reading the 1920s article. we should be 1920s weimar republic citizens with a wheelbarrow of cash. or mussolini. or hitler
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D:
Hitler didn’t drink.
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N: make 1921 bigger and lined up with speakeasy. lined up is most important. make the rightmost figure a little higher. also what is it, haha.
but a lot better. been working on commenting system.
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N:
Photobooth at the Bonehouse Spooktacular: behind the scenes
Things went smoothly, but there were some behind the scenes problems, resulting in about 20 minutes of total downtime throughout the night and about six messed up photos. Booth operated for around five hours and sixty successful prints were made. The fastest time between prints was four minutes, something which could be improved.
A common problem is that the fourth photo from the previous set creeping into the next set of photos – something to do with the lag time between taking a picture and it being processed by the computer, must look into that. Sometimes the first print after loading new paper would print out “all funny”.
In the end, the biggest problems were not technical but logistical, i.e. drunk bitches taking like five pictures in a row, adding to the already long-ass line. The problem that did us in was rather inexplicable – in the programming, we have recorded mouse movements and keyboard strokes to work the various programs, and after five hours of being in service, the computer just started doing them really really slow. Not like it was running slow, but it was moving the mouse on its own, moving it really slow. It’s annoying to try to halt the workflow when it’s in that phase too, because you have to fight with your program for control of the mouse. All it would have taken to keep the booth going was us restarting the computer and reopening the programs, but the technicians were far too drunk to be bothered.
Things for the next party (on the 22nd):
1) Load a set amount of photopaper so that we can better anticipate running out instead of winging it.
2) Post rules (i.e. drunk bitches only allowed one photo at a time, drunk bitches shouldn’t try to load ink, etc.)
3) Make an Automator action that sets up the photobooth for us (right now we have to open all the programs, move the windows to the right places, delete certain files, etc.)
4) Change the numbering system so it’s easier to get them chronological – right now the ID number is seconds past midnight, but that gets hell a confusing when A) midnight passes and B) it’s daylight savings and there are two 2AMs.
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PROPER PHOTOBOOTH USE
DRUNK BITCHES, FOURTH PIC
Thought this was a glitch. Nope. Misleading.
YT
Example of the “fourth photo” glitch.
Playful thoughts coming spontaneously to me on the night of October 31st, 2008
I was almost sure that the lyrics of the song I was listening to specifically talked about Barack Obama winning the election, and how awesome the future is.
I wondered if Barack Obama, is, possibly, the anti-Christ, but that maybe that’s not a bad thing.
Immediately after, I conjectured that Barack Obama is in fact the second coming of Christ, or, like in Philip K. Dick’s mind, the first coming of Christ, and then that means that the year is actually somewhere around year 30 AD, and I am an early Christian, in hiding. This also leads me to understand that he will, one day, be crucified. Bummer.
Taking a look into the crowd, I saw that everyone around me was, in some very important ways, mating.
Taking pictures, I suspected that the waldos were all spies or drug dealers or something, and that’s why I was taking pictures of them, for reconnaissance.
In the heat of the dancefloor, I was deep-sea diving.
Listening carefully, I heard that Soulwax’s lyrics were sent specifically to me, convincing me that it was, in fact, not me, but rather something else talking in my head, and that I should probably go buy some water.
Giggling, I wondering if maybe the rave was an elaborate plot by ghosts and phantoms, who, using the fact that on All Hallow’s Eve the barrier between the spirit world and the real world is thinnest, were intent on stealing our youth, our mortal bodies, and our souls in order to return to their previous lives and enjoy all the sensations and luxuries of being alive that we take for granted. Or maybe they just wanted to visit for the night and dance with the living once more.
And at the end, I mused to myself that maybe the DJ Deadmau5 was actually the spirit of the mouse that our cat had killed earlier in the night, which I had failed to save, there to lay reign over the doomed souls around me, all of them paying for their sinful existences with an eternity on a sweltering sweaty dancefloor, and praying that God will show a little mercy and end reality, because even the void of non-existence is better than Hell. I was sure He would oblige. He seems like a chill dude.
Fun night. Spooky out there.
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