…Wherein Our Protagonist Desires to Pillage the Surrounds Clear of All Pokemon Species.

Arty visual stuff today and some redesign.

I’m updating the floor’s evacuation plan today. Something that was drafted in 1998 with AutoCAD, I’m attempting to recreate in Visio. Which is basically scan a copy, make it into a picture and overlay it with colourful lines and rectangles. And I’ve got Chasing Amy running through my head.

“Get off me, you lousy tracer!”
“Your mother’s a tracer!”

First purchase this year was another digital camera, taking the number up to three. Photography is one of those things I’d like to do more often so, after purchasing a pouch to strap to my belt, I’ve taken it with me to get a feel for how it’s used as well as take some shots. It’s a Canon Powershot and its got Optical Zoom x 6, Digital Zoom by who-gives-a-crap-the thing-sucks-anyway, 640 x 480 movie rez, speed shutter settings (No agonizing waiting between shots, though that time where I got two photos with the girl in the Slave Leia costume, taking up approximately a minute and a half doesn’t warrant complaint for obvious reasons) and a variety of other options that I’ll be experimenting with to your eye-watering pleasure This is, by way of saying, a small cheat to update both the Livejournal and Flickr simultaneously.

It dawns on me that I could have used Blogger for writing and “kept it in the family”, as it were. But then I would have felt the need to complete the set by sourcing Google Video for my amusing stuff that I’ll be putting up here later today and Google Video, while funny, doesn’t hold a candle to YouTube.

…Although Google owns YouTube, so my obsessive-compulsive need for sets/collections is still going to nag away at me.

I’m adding photos to Flickr throughout this week. Link is on the sidebar replacing The Engine.

Speaking of sets/collections, Delia, upon hearing about my nimble dodging of the Pokemon craze, decided that it was integral to my development as a boyfriend that I play it. She is certain that I’ll enjoy it. Frankly, I don’t think she knows just what she unleashed. I avoided Pokemon, like Magic: The Gathering because I already collect enough things like comics and DVDs and as it is.  I need to look toward a larger domicile in the future to house them*. Not to mention that I’ve effectively given away three large crates of single comics just so I can stretch out in my tiny lair. And for those of you who know just how short I am, consider the full implications of what that means. 

Long story short (no pun intended), while I’ll play the game, I’m avoiding cards, comics, and other collectables. I seem to recall Greenie falling into this trap once and while he’s clean and Poke-free, I suspect he’s one Squirtle** away from a relapse. I will, in further attempts to put something online, be transcribing the tales of my Pokemon capturing and culling craze (with my own spin of course). Starting… 


My Pokemons

Well, here I am in Pallet Town and I’m confronted by an alzheimer-ridden Professor Oak who asks me who I am. With only seven characters to choose from, I decide to go with “BEN” and not make a big deal out of it. Then the Professor asks what the name of his grandson and, coincidentally, my greatest rival since birth is:

“ASSHAT”, I helpfully reply.

I’m not sure how rivalry works just after you’ve been delivered but I’m pretty sure it was shit like this.

I’m at home in a bedroom which, in terms of square metres, is the size of the house. The whole upper story is mine and its furbished with a Super Nintendo and a PC, no doubt with all kinds of porn. Yet despite this, I am, at ten years of age, heading out into the wilderness to make my fortune. Feeling like a character in a Tezuka manga I go talk to mum. Mum is fine with getting the house to herself. Dad doesn’t seem to be around, probably having ditched me since birth. With instructions to go see Professor Oak before I go, I flip Mum the finger and leave her to her life of miserable solitude.

Turns out the Professor isn’t in, but Asshat is. He’s here for the same reason I am: Free Pokemon. See it turns out Pallet Town is besieged on all sides by cute but wild savage Pokemon that would kill you as soon as look at you for the sheer fun of it. But I’ll be damned if I’m waiting around for the Prof to get back so I say a tender “Fuck you” to Asshat and walk off into the wilderness.
Not one step out of town when I’m already Pokemon chow. Fortunately Professor Oak, who appears to have forgotten that two children are waiting for him, turns out to be pretty spry when it comes to Pokemon catching. A wild Pikachu is trapped into a small palm-sized ball.

Hmm, wonder if that will have implications later…

Oak is pretty surprised to see Asshat waiting for him. Clearly he likes me best and wants to give me the best Pokemon, but Asshat is onto him and steals my Pokemon right there in front of everyone. After an unsuccessful argument to have the little bastard hauled off to Juvie, Oak instead gives me the mangy and likely rabid wild Pokemon he caught earlier. The Pikachu seems to have quietened down some at least and lets me handle it, though doesn’t seem to happy. Also, it turns out he doesn’t like the ball. “You should probably let him walk
around with you,” Says Professor Oak.

“That’s cool”, I say. Can I have that ball for catching other Pokemon then?
“Um, no. No I think I”ll hang on to that.” says Oak.


Well, I got myself the cutest little tazer in the world to keep the other Pokemon in line. I’m asked to give it a nickname and can’t help but feel a little hurt that a Pokemon gets more characters than I do. AC-DC isn’t bad and Mjolner, while cool, is hard to pronounce so I decide to go with calling him Tazerbait. With Tazerbait in tow, I head for the door.

But as it turns out, the aptly named Asshat wants to start some shit. Sure bitch, throw down!

I’m confronted by some wet eyed two tailed fox creature-thing and I start experimenting with some de-buffs in Tazerbait’s arsenal. Meanwhile it turns out while I was distracted by its two tales tvhat I forgot it has bloody sharp teeth. Tazerbait quickly learns that tactics are ineffective against mindless snapping fury and turns up the heat.

The lab smells of burning dog hair, but Tazerbait and I are victorious. After a good fifteen minutes belittling Asshat, his manhood and his mother I, high on victory, set out into the wilderness.

Turns out the wilderness hides a large flock of eagle/creatures called Pidgeys. Pidgeys look like they could carry me off as food for their young. Pidgeys also travel in large numbers, so large that I start looking around for Alfred Hitchcock in the background. But it also turns out that they are vulnerable to electricity and so the vast majority of this session is spent grinding Pidgeys with Tazerbait until he reaches level 9 and I’ve got enough deep fried chicken to be called “Colonel”.

Grinding gets old though and so I head to Viridian City and its fabled Poke-Mart. For all your Pokemon needs. I decide I need balls and then I decide not to every say that again. However a problem arises:

Sales Clerk: Hey, you come from Pallet Town don’t you?
Me: Yes. I’m heading out to seek my fortune and become a man.
Sales Clerk: I’ve got this parcel for Professor Oak. Can you deliver it to him for me.
Me: Oh! Um, well I just walked all the way from there and it would be kinda weird going back, what with the whole quest to become a man to go and me not being a man yet..
Sales Clerk: Oh! oh. That’s a right shame, that is.
Me: Guess so. Hey, can you sell me one of those Poke-Balls back there.
Sales Clerk: Sorry hon, fresh out.
Me: What?
Sales Clerk: Yep. All gone. But I reckon by the time you run down to Pallet Town and back, I’ll have some more in stock.

I curse the game designers for not providing me with the entirely rational retort of using Taserbait to burn her store to the ground. So instead I turn the game off rather than be exploited as my revenge. Say goodbye to your world!

…Until after dinner.

*I’ll be in the tent in the driveway
**Just because I avoided the comics, cards and cartoons, doesn’t mean I’m completely ignorant of the fad.



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