and on that note (please add more)

- Darwin’s nightmare

- Promises

- When the levees broke

- King of Kong

- Dear Zachary

This is an indoor playground designed just for the wee ones. In fact, kids over the height of 42 inches are now allowed in – parents are permitted, strollers are not. The centrepiece is a play pirate ship, complete with slide and ship’s wheel. ‘Leaping’ dolphins are scattered over the floor and make for great climbing toys. Located in the Aventura Mall, Adventurer’s Cove gives toddlers a break from boring shopping.

Here are our additional photos taken during our Coron Island hopping. Enjoy!

Peel and Stick Pool Cove for Above Ground Pools is an important step when you change or put in an above ground swimming pool liner.

Pool cove keeps the vinyl liner in place on the bottom of the walls. Without cove, the weight of the water can push the liner against the wall causing stress to the pool itself or under the frame.

In the past, people had to use sand or dirt to build up the area. This is labor intensive and the dirt can easily washout leaving you with a liner failure. Gladon solves this problem with their Peel and Stick Pool Cove. The swimming pool cove is made from a foam like material and has a tacky adhesive backing so you can stick the cove in place.

The pool cove molding is economical, lightweight, flexible, and easy to install.

Click here to learn How To Install Swimming Pool Cove

At www.megapoolandspa.com, we have the cheapest price on the internet for all your above ground swimming pool vinyl liner replacement accessories.

There is no argument that withstands a flood.  Stop here, I said to the waves.  And then I made a cross in the sand and said, God, help.  Soon my foot was gone.  And so I went walking on the stump.  You may say, O.  Or instead take note of my weeping and my limp and fear for your life.  It may be coming for you, and that it hasn’t yet doesn’t mean it won’t.  But I am safe today.  I am like a seal in a cove.  The sun is glistening everywhere like truth.  If I turn my head this way, glittering.  If I look up, only blue.  The tide draws in and out.  Sometimes it feels like a convenience.  Sometimes it smells like despair.

Phone: 954 603 8772.
Please leave a message and you will be contacted ASAP.

A/C not fixed = $20 (diagnosis/service)
If your air conditioning (A/C) is not fixed, the charge $20 to diagnose the problem.

A/C fixed + No parts = $50
(If your A/C is fixed and no parts are needed, the charge is $50 total.You will not pay more than $50 unless parts need to be purchased.)

A/C fixed + Parts = $50 + Cost of parts.
If your A/C is fixed and parts are needed, the charge is $50 + the cost of the parts.

Please note: Freon/refrigerant is a part and is not included in the service fee.

This is not an hourly fee – the labor fee is $50 no matter how long the repair takes. The charge is $20 if the A/C is not fixed.

Please note that the following services are not currently being offered: 1) coil change-outs, 2) compressor change-outs and 3) installations.

Here is a list of cities currently being serviced:

Boca Raton
Coconut Creek
Coral Springs
Deerfield Beach
Fort Lauderdale
Hillsboro Beach
Lauderdale Lakes
Lauderdale-by-the-Sea
Lauderhill
Lighthouse Point
Margate
North Lauderdale
Oakland Park
Parkland
Pompano Beach
Tamarac
Wilton Manors

South Broward, West Broward and Miami-Dade County are not currently serviced.

Here is a list of some of the units that may be repaired…
- Commercial A/C units
- Residential A/C units
- Split A/C units
- Package A/C units
- Wall A/C units
- Window A/C units

Please note: Personal Checks and Business Checks are not accepted as payment at this time.

If you can’t call, feel free to email your phone number to the email address at the top of this listing and you will be contacted ASAP.

Any and all air conditioners have a possibility of repair.

Here are some (but not all) brands that repairs are possible for..
Goodman, Trane, Carrier, York, Rheem, Ruud, Fujistsu, American Standard, Lennox, Mitsubishi, Bryant, Payne, Duchane, Fedders, Heil, Janitrol, Armstrong, GE, General Electric, Honeywell, Amana, Comfortmaker, Tempstar, Briggs & Stratton, Kohler, Guardian, Generac.

License # CAC014666

On Monday 2 November 2009

We worked in the auditorium 2 cove today – shooting models against a white background.

Two lighting zones were created by lighting fore- and background separately. Four background lights were placed in such way that the beams overlapped in for even lighting.

Foam boards were used to separate the fore- and background lighting.

The background was metered 1.5 stops over the foreground – in this case the background metered at f22.5.

The battery pack of the foreground light was adjusted until there was a 1.5 stop difference with the background – in this case f16 and the aperture was adjusted.

Both a beauty dish and a narrow-angle honey comb were used (not at the same time).

Using a soft box altered the meter reading to f11.

Ring Flash

A ring flash gives a narrow lighting area that spreads out. It is very suitable for bringing out texture and is used for macro photography, fashion and even still-life. It does, however, give a shadow around the subject, which can be eliminated by using fill-in flash.

Workshop Notes by Mark

Approaches to Photography. People session 2

In the summer my father left for the harbor early, meeting Johnson or Bardier at the docks, talking in the salty fog that disappeared by midmorning. The weather wasn’t idle chat with the fishermen, and ‘red sky at night’ frequently set expectations for the day. My father’s office sounded like a robot. The three radios were tuned to different maritime channels, announcing craft warnings and weather reports. I liked to sit in the window seat of the harbor master building watching dinghies and rowboats navigate the cramped moorings close to the boat launch. On summer days when my mother needed us out of the house so she could make jam, or repaint the shingles, Chester and I sat at my father’s desk and listened to the robot voice tell us how many Knots the wind blew. On the wall there was a painting of a ship that my father said had sunk, the American flag on the stern unraveling in the wind. The only other wall decorations were a series of sticky-notes that held names and registration numbers.

Sometimes my father would let Chester and I sit in the front room with him and the fishermen and boaters that would stop by. We liked hearing them talk; sailing accents from Massachusetts, Connecticut, New York, and Canada, the fishermen turning their r’s to ah’s.  Johnson and Bardier spent their mornings in the harbor master building, I don’t know if I ever found out what their first names were. They were both locals whose families had lived in Havret Harbor since it separated itself from the neighboring town of Jeterton, sometime around the war of 1812. They shared a lobster boat because it was “wicked expensive.” Her name was Red Lady and their buoys matched with red horizontal stripes. Johnson and Bardier smelled like fish and cigarettes. The fish used for lobsterpot bait has to be a little rotting so the lobsters can smell it. Their waders had little bits of old cod and halibut stuck to the bottoms.

My father used to haul pots, but grew up in Castine, where he and his brothers and his father and his father’s brothers had gone to Maine Maritime to become captains and shipbuilders. Before that the Sillmans were the Cielmonts in Montreal who built houses. My grandfather was trained to make boats but made chairs; he had his own store full of benches and stools. It was the kind of store that out-of-staters would have their Maine conversation pieces shipped from. His brother Dodge who my father was named after moved away to Port Clyde work on lobster boats, an extra set of hands, earning money and building a reputation among the fishermen until he could afford a used boat. He found a retiring fisherman who sold him the Bella Donna, who was never renamed, and pots with buoys whose colors stayed the same. My father spent summers in Port Clyde hauling for his uncle. The string of pots reached far into the ocean, soaking in the colder waters. He worked in the sun with his oil overalls and no shirt, leaving his French/Irish skin to burn and freckle. His brown freckles stretched from shoulders to wrists where his gloved hands were red from work, and not from sun; his usually chestnut hair bleached, his nose constantly peeling. When he was old enough his beard came in brown and coarse, and the only times he shaved it were for weddings and funerals when a clean face was respectful.

My father spent one summer saving his money to fix up an old Boston Whaler; Sundays were spent in his uncle’s backyard, scrubbing, sanding, painting, and refinishing the decayed boat. The outboard was a gift, all fifteen horses. Sundays were a day for staying home. You didn’t have to go to church, but you couldn’t do anything else either. The whole state closed on Sundays, except for some of the Chinese restaurants, the kind that had signs that said ‘Oriental.’ My father spent most of Sundays in bed, and the afternoons tooling around the inlets and coves in his whaler, spots he could see from Bella Donna, but not close.

Friday nights were when the fishermen, crewmen and dockworkers got paid, my father and his uncle included. The streets, bars and harbor full of drunken port men. His uncle would be angry if he knew he had taken the whaler out after dark to see a private cove one Friday night, late in July, when the air started being warm. It was trespassing, if he was caught, and only if they were home.

Before he could see the dock, my father killed the engine, coasting through the dark and quiet water. He tied the wet and weedy rope around the dock cleat in a figure-eight, pulling it tight. Bilge water sloshed around his feet in the bottom of his Boston Whaler. He put the stern light pole behind the gas tank. The newly varnished seats were red and still sticky; the heat and water kept them from setting. The white flotation pillow with the black mildew held tight to the plank seats. My father fished his keys from the floor attached to his unsinkable buoy key ring. He stood on the seat cushion, holding his tennis shoes in hand and stepped onto the dock. The skiff bobbed when his foot pushed off, pointing the fore into the harbor.

My father sat on the dock, pulling his shoes on, his bottom numb from the wooden seat, barely braced against the pounding of the waves. His wavy hair heavy on his scalp with salt and sweat, rising with the breeze when it picked up. He stood, seeing that the lights were out in the big white Victorian house at the top of the hill that overlooked the cove. The cove and the house were owned by a family from Connecticut who came up for long weekends and the week of the Fourth of July. Their Sunfish lay on the beach, the sails still in their red sheath. My father walked across the beach, feeling the sharp rocks through his tennis shoes, thin from wear. The light at the end of the dock turned on. He climbed up the large rocks that sat between the beach and the pine trees sloping up the hill. His knees crunched old pine needles under them. He sat in the dark of the trees while a girl in shorts and a tee shirt walked down the dock. She leaned over his whaler, and shouted “I know your registration number now, whoever you are! I’m going to the cops, and you’ll get arrested.” She stood crossing her arms, waiting. “Really? You’re going to let yourself get arrested? How stupid are you?”

“Okay, I’m sorry, please don’t repoht me.” My father stepped onto the rocks.

“Because you said you’re sorry?” The girl kicked his skiff.

“Hey, come on now, that’s nowt nice.”

“And neither is going on someone else’s property when it’s clearly marked.”

“I didn’t see nothing.”

“There are signs on the trees over there, and both ends of the dock.”

“It’s really dahk.”

“Which makes it all the creepier that you’re sneaking around here.” She kicked his skiff again.

“Hey now, I just came down heah to see if they was any of the glowin jellyfish I heuhd about.” My father had his hands up.

“I’ve never heard of any glowing jellyfish around here.” The girl kept her foot on the fore of the whaler, moving it back and forth like rocking a baby cradle.

“Yeah, see, some of the fishamin say that in the summah around this time, the jellyfish come in the coves to spawn, and they glow like fiahflies but in the watah.”

“You’re putting me on.”

“No, sweah to god, but I don’t think they’ll be comin anytime soon from the looks of it.” He looked at the water, black except for the yellow reflection of the dock light.

“Well that sucks, especially since you’ll be in jail and won’t get to see them ever.”

“Hey, come on now, I really am sorry, what can I do?”

“You could…” the girl thought about it for a while. “You could give me your boat.”

“I can’t give you my boat, no way.”

“Hope you like jail.” The girl kicked the whaler again.

“Isn’t theyah something else I can do? I could give you a ride, sometime?” My father shoved his hands into his pockets.

“Fine, you have to give me rides whenever I want, for the rest of the summer.” She smiled and took her foot off the boat.

“I weuk fuh  a living, I don’t got time except Sundays.”

“Fine, Sundays it is Mr…” She reached her hand out.

“Dodge Sillman.” He stepped up to the dock and shook her hand.

“Nice to meet you Dodge, my name is Marian Webbly.” She stepped back, letting him get to his whaler. “See you Sunday then.”

“Yup.” My father unhooked the rope from the cleat and started the motor. Marian walked back to the house, turning off the dock light. He put up the navigational lights so other boats wouldn’t hit him.

When he got back to his uncle’s dock, the hems of his pants were wet, even though he’d rolled them up. His whaler made a light tapping sound, pressing against the dock with its rubber bumpers. He decided to wait until his pants dried before walking back to the house to avoid questions. He walked a bit up the hill to the main road.  Next to the lamppost was an old fashioned lobsterpot, arched with a flat bottom, a net slung in a round opening between pine slats, facing inward, like a navel. He could see where the lobsters would crawl in, and into the next room with the bait bag. The whole point of a lobsterpot was to get them to come in, the net would let the small ones back out, but the big lobsters would get stuck, only able to move backwards. The lobsterpot had two miniature pilings thrust through it, the cheap pine slats sawn in jagged circles. He felt that was wrong, since they didn’t even make wooden pots any more, they had to be made by hand, they had to be strong and well built or a fisherman could lose a whole string of pots.

My father wanted that lobsterpot. He didn’t know what he wanted it for, or what he would do with it if he had it. He crouched and tested it by pulling gently upwards; pushing his legs against the wooden platform it was screwed into. After checking to see if anyone was around and finding no one, he ran back down the hill and grabbed a wooden paddle from his whaler. It was supposed to be used in case the motor died, but he wedged it under one corner and rammed it, the old wood of the platform separating from that of the pot. He hoped no one would hear the creaking of the rusted screws, he didn’t know how he would explain it. When he got home later, he would tell his uncle that a drunken captain gave it to him. His uncle would know where it came from but not say anything.

Another thrust into the gap between platform and pot pushed the paddle a few inches deeper into the breach. The pilings didn’t come up, but my father didn’t want them. He was sweating in the damp July sea air, his dark shirt sticking to his chest as he used his weight to leverage the progress. After a few more shoves, he cracked his paddle and pulled the pot from the platform. He put the paddle back in the whaler, careful not to further damage it in the process. The lobsterpot was heavier than a few slats of pine and some old rope netting should have been, but it went under his arm as he walked with what he hoped looked like purpose and not guilt. The dark streets beyond the bright of the dock yawned at him. That’s how my father always remembered the night he met my mother; the night he also stole a lobster pot from the township of Port Clyde.

The mouth of a cove on the James River at about the peak of fall.

© 2009 D L Ennis, All rights reserved.

NOTE: Permission for the use of my images is granted for personal websites and blogs but is to include a link back to this site and proper credit given to me, D L Ennis. Link to be used…(Visual Thoughts http://dlennis.wordpress.com/)

NOTE: Commercial use, and the creation of prints, must be purchased! For more information you can contact me here.

so, i missed two days and it kinda sorta sucks. i had a wedding so i wasn’t home at all and i’ll post a few pics today to make up for it…

oh and there’s only a month until i see SAOSIN for my birthday ! <3 <3 <3 i'm so freaking excited. but yeah, so in honor of that, here's a pic of their lead singer <3.

Até que ponto pode ir a crueldade do ser humano quando o único objetivo é o lucro?

Durante anos, a caça aos golfinhos no litoral da cidade de Taiji, que torna as águas do mar vermelhas por causa do sangue derramado a cada inverno, atraiu a raiva de ativistas ocidentais. Mas poucas pessoas entre o público japonês pareciam se importar, ou até mesmo saber, a respeito da matança. Isso pode mudar com as primeiras exibições públicas de “The Cove” (A Angra”, em tradução literal), um documentário americano que usou câmeras escondidas para filmar as caças de golfinho anuais em Taiji.

Na quarta-feira, os frequentadores de cinemas japoneses vislumbraram as cenas pela primeira vez no Festival de Cinema de Tóquio, realizado esta semana na cidade.

Taiji não é a única comunidade que caça golfinhos, milhares dos quais são mortos em todo o mundo intencionalmente ou por ficarem presos nas redes de pescadores. Mas os pescadores de Taiji são caçadores notórios, batendo em metais para agrupar golfinhos apavorados em uma angra e depois os atacando com lanças até sua morte, no que os manifestantes descrevem como uma atividade desumana.

O Japão matou aproximadamente 13 mil golfinhos em águas litorais em 2007, de acordo com a agência de pescas do país, dos quais aproximadamente 1.750 foram foram abatidos em Taiji. O Japão também caça baleias usando uma brecha na moratória de 1986 à atividade, que permite matar baleias para pesquisa – apesar das presas para pesquisa acabarem nos supermercados japoneses.

Apesar da recepção entusiasmada ao filme no festival – muitos aplausos foram concedidos ao final da exibição – ainda não se sabe se ele irá levar a um debate público mais amplo.

A caça de baleias e golfinhos é considerada uma parte importante do sustento tradicional do Japão e de sua cultura culinária, uma prática a ser defendida contra interferência estrangeira. (Embora apenas uma minoria de japoneses coma carne de baleia, e menos ainda comem
golfinhos).

Também há um tabu forte na mídia japonesa contra qualquer crítica aos fazendeiros e pescadores do país, geralmente descritos como defensores heróicos de um modo de vida que está desaparecendo rapidamente. A cobertura a respeito do filme tem sido escassa e seus produtores ainda não encontraram um distribuidor no país.

O Festival de Cinema inicialmente rejeitou “The Cove” por ser muito controverso, mas mudou sua decisão no último minuto depois do apoio de nomes importantes de Hollywood, como Ben Stiller, que se interessou pessoalmente pelo assunto. Porém, o festival divulgou uma declaração dizendo não ter nenhum envolvimento com a produção do filme.

A cooperativa de pesca de Taiji exigiu que o festival não exibisse “The Cove”, acusando os produtores de invasão de propriedade para conseguir as imagens e de fazer acusações falsas.

A cidade contratou um advogado e se prepara para uma ação judicial, afirmou um oficial na quarta-feira. O advogado, Shozaburo Ishida, não quis comentar o assunto.

Enquanto isso, a caça aos golfinhos irá continuar conforme o planejado durante a temporada que vai se setembro até fevereiro, disse a agência de pesca do Japão.

Em sua caça em setembro, pescadores de Taiji capturaram 10 golfinhos de um grupo de 100 para vender a aquários, enquanto 50 baleias foram mortas e enviadas aos mercados.

Fonte: IG – Último Segundo.

FOR MORE INFORMATION or SITE VIEWING, GET IN TOUCH WITH ME :

KIM of AYALA 0917.8440221 KIMTEH.AYALALANDPREMIER@GMAIL.COM

Ayala Land Premier’s ANVAYA COVE showcases it’s limited line of Ready built, Ready to own, 

LV Locsin Designed masterpieces!

Specially master-planned for the elite few, 

Anvaya’s Seascape Ridge is built for those who want to enjoy the finer things in life, and leave all the worrying behind.

All units designed and constructed by only the best – LV Locsin & Partners

Construction management and Quality Control under the meticulous eyes of Ayala Land Property Management

o   187 sqm. units with 3BR’s convertible to 5BR’s per unit!

o   2 floors plus attic

o   3 Toilet & Baths

o   Maid’s room with own Toilet & Bath

o   Patio

o   ALL corner units

o   Surrounded with greeneries

o   A village within a village

o   4.5 hectare total just for 14 Quad Houses, 90% of the area dedicated to open spaces and landscaping

0  Want to know the Special Installment Promo? Feel free to contact me

o   Get your membership card and use all the amenities already upon down payment!

For site viewing schedule of ANVAYA COVE / SEASCAPE RIDGE, feel free to get in touch with me at your most convenient time. We can arrange for van transportation for you if needed. 

As You Might Know Yesterday There Was The CPA Army Outback Invasion I Was Just A Solider At First But Now I Have Risen To The Ranks And I Am Now Commander General With 7 Medals.

Here Are A Few Pictures Of Our Invasion And Here Is What Drigerbest Twitter-ed After It:-

”WOW! I never knew I will say this but SERVER OUTBACK IS OURS!”

So Here Are The Pictures Anyway

With Thanks To Everyone Who Came To This Invasion! AND THANKS TO DRIGERBEST thank you for promoting me and adding me Can’t Wait Till The Next Invasion!

~Lilbeclil x

Check Out Tha Offical CPA Blog!

——-> http://cpavengers.wordpress.com/cpa-ranks/ <——-

Um, Ahem, Hello!! There is a storm at its peak ready to appear and why can’t penguins see it in a closer view? Last year when a storm was coming around, you actually saw a storm! Look! Here is a photo from last year:

Shocking! This year all I see is this! No sign of clouds! And is that a penguin riding the Hydro Hopper! That is dangerous! Doesn’t he know a storm is coming! Alert: Penguins don’t go boat riding!

Also, last year there was signs of a storm from the Lighhouse’s telescope! Look! Here is a photo from last year!

And look at the telescope this year! Nothing! No signs of clouds at all! What’s up with that!

Did Club Penguin make a mistake, or is this storm not going to be as major as we think…

~CAPTAIN CHILLI PEPPER~

Nubble Lighthouse

I was lucky enough to be in Perkins Cove as a storm started coming in.  Couldn’t have asked for a more beautiful sky on a cloudy afternoon.

Perkins Cove

On the way home I stopped to get a few more relection shots as it’s the perfect time of year to capture the trees in the lake.

Framed in Blue

Orange

Lastly, next to the Nubble shot, my favorite photo of the week.  Bob hates to see me with the camera coming but I think he knew how hard I was trying to learn and “get it right” so he didn’t move when I focused the camera on him.

Bob and his ride

Until next time….

Hugs from my corner,
A

Tuesday we had five new additions to our family – three girls and two boys.  Tod and Susie had their puppies.

Unfortunately, Monday, my parents had to put their sweet, beautiful Luna-girl to sleep.  I happened to be there Sunday and took these pictures. 

URL : http://www.flashgame-girl.com/Arcade/Black-Beaks-Treasure-Cove.html

Game description :

Playing as one of Toucan Sam’s nephews, you must run, jump, and fly from level to level while avoiding enemies hazards. At the end of the level is a bottled message which Black Beak has left to the nephews. It contains a clue to where Toucan Sam and his nephews must go!

Game controls :

ARROW keys for movement
SPACE to jump and beak stomp

Your thighs are smooth,
Like processed cream,
Your skin is pale and fair,
You’re in the bathtub,
Under suds,
You’re washing pits and hair,
Your fingers drift,
(as fingers do),
To fiddle with your folds,
Your lips, they part,
Your eyes, they close,
Your breaths turn quick,
And you explore your cove,
What treasures lie up deep inside?
Your web cam doesn’t show,
You moan so much,
You’re splashing now,
There’s just one thing I know:
There’s nothing cooler than the Internet,
Except maybe robots.
Or pussy.
Pussy’s pretty awesome.

I’m sadly dissapointed to tell you that yesterday’s prediction was wrong…guess that shows that I do not work for Club Penguin. There is some new iggy music to check out today and a new pin to find. The new pin is a padlock. I wonder if that means anything? Tell me what you think. I was also wondering who drives the speed boat that can be seen in the binoculars at the cove. I mean it looks like 2 blobs in the boat. Maybe the Penguin that drove it fell out or got abducted by aliens and that’s why a line green penguin continues to go back and forth hanging on for his dear life.

Things Ive done and seen this past weekish:

Before I got set up in the studio I had to finish a snowboard illustration for Coors. I was commissioned by The Interger group to create a painting and design for their annual winter banquet.

Downtown

Met up with this guy to talk about tattoo I am getting next week.

Mr. C.

Pete Godd aka Pete Dogg aka Red Washburne Esq. aka El Chupacabrito provides me with many moments of joy.

Judge Mayfield says “FTW”

Got some visitors to “The Cave” this week, My sister and cousin also made it down but didnt get a snap of them!
The Old Studio mates Dan Allen and Brian Dombrowski

The Family Dolphin

and Mr. Roberts

Found another dog running down the middle of busy road. Put a leash on him and walked him home, his owner was an ass and I think I did the dog a disservice bringing him back home.
He was super sweet!

This is what happens when drunk assholes take my turn at 80mph instead of 30mph, this car was struck by the drunk drivers, it was parked in the front.

Been working on this fellow

This is what the backyard to my studio looks like!

My pet seals also chill in the back yard, I heard one got snatched by a shark yesterday! Yikes!

On the trail. love is creative

“Wearing all black like the homie”

Some La Jolla street art, love this shit!

On the regular

As today’s (Talk like a) Pirate Day, let’s take the time to remember the games about the people that love booty more than the rest of us put together.

Pirates in simulation games

Sid Meyer’s Pirates! (the ‘87 original and the 2004 remake), Sea Dogs, Age of Booty, Age of Pirates and Age of Sail.

Sid Meyer’s Pirates! was the game that started it all, on the Commodore 64, more than 20 years ago. This was the first game to have Sid Meyer’s name attached to its title, a PR stunt from Microprose trying to get fans of Meyer’s other titles (mostly flying sims) to purchase this original pirate sim. And boy, was it original:  the gameplay was open ended meaning you chose your own adventure as you’d attack other ships and towns, look for treasure or avoid combat and all things pirate by living the peaceful life of a trader (till you ran into pirates yourself).  Since then many have jumped on the pirate sim bandwagon and also a remake for the game was released in 2004.  Also a notable mention would be Pirates of Caribbean, a mediocre game when released but, thanks to the modding comunity, a worthy pirate title.

Pirates in MMOs

(Pirates of the Burning Seas, Pirates of the Caribbean Online)

MMOs expanded on the whole “live the life of a pirate” thing by adding, well, more pirates.  Controlled by players. Pirates of the Burning Seas gets the top spot here, with Pirates of the Caribbean Online from Disney also providing a satisfying pirate adventure,  although, Disney style, keeping it as kid friendly as possible.

Pirates in strategy games

Age of Booty, Port Royale 2 and Tropico 2: Pirate Cove

Pirates, strategy and resource management? Well yes, you can actually mix those thing up and come up with a good game. Age of Booty revolves around your  ship and town upgrading, Port Royale 2 is more about establishing trade routes and building shipping cartels than buccaneers and swordplay and Tropico 2 ditches some of the economic develepment options from the previous game and features a “reverse economy” where money can be stolen rather than earned.

Pirates in adventure games

Zack & Wiki: Quest for Barbados’  Treasure, the  Monkey Island series

Zack & Wiki blew the critics away when it hit the Wii. It offered a fun adventure/puzzle mix and the controls were praised as controlling  wannabe pirate Zack was a breeze (which is how all games should fell like on the Wii). But when it comes to wannabe pirates, there’s one character that stands out. Guybrush Threepwood is the main character of the Monkey Island series and he’s had nothing but trouble because of the name. Each game follows Guybrush as he tries to become the most feared pirate in the Caribbean Sea, save governor, damsel in distress and love interest Elaine Marley and defeat his arch-nemesis, evil undead pirate LeChuck. Apart from being very good adventure games, the Monkey Island titles were most known for their humor. Every other line is a joke and this sometimes translates into the puzzles, some solutions requiring you to think waaaay out of the box. After four successful titles, Lucasarts is testing the waters (meaning interest in the series) with a remake of the original Monkey Island and some episodic content develop by another company. If things go right (and by the sales number, they are), a full sequel is incoming.

Future of pirates?

The future seems to favor the pirates. If the present has them locked in a brutal fight with the ninjas (with no side willing to surrender) , space pirates seem to be what the future holds for us, titles like Metroid prime or movie Treasure Planet replacing the dreaded seas with space. Why are pirates so cool? I don’t know, they just Arrrr! (mandatory pirate day joke: achievement completed)

Noaptea trecută, în timp ce butonam telecomanda televizo-rului ca urmare a unei stări de plictis, am nimerit şi eu pe postul de canal, la o emisiune prezentată de fostul „zân” al surprizelor, alias Cove. în show era vorba despre fata cuiva, minoră de felul ei, dar care umbla cu un timp cu un deceniu mai în vârstă, destul de dubios şi care avea şi el nişte „combi-naţii”. Ei bine, fătuca asta umbla cu nenea astă prin cluburi şi participa şi ea la nişte „combi-naţii”. Pân’ a prins-o Cove şi părinţii şi să vezi circ şi scandal, dar şi ceva palme. Deşi emisiunea este realizată după un scenariu bine pus la punct, făcut pentru a atrage audienţă, realitatea din „teren” este cam la fel. Doar că locul scenariul este luat de realitatea de zi cu zi.

alta fata lui taticu

„Fumez că şi colegele mele fumează, şi dacă o fi <<iarbă>> cu atât mai bine; m-am combinat cu ală pentru că are bani”, mi-a spus o amică din copilărie, într-un moment de maximă sinceritate. Şi ca ea  sunt multe românce. Fie din cauza situaţiei materiale, fie a anturajului, fie pentru că „e la modă”, sunt puştoaice care de la 14 ani (hai 15, să nu fiu rău) umblă cu anticoncepţionalele prin ghiozdane; sunt fete care devin panarame pentru bani şi altele care din curve devin vedete pentru că au ştiut în braţele cui să se arunce, etcete-ra. Desigur, există şi opusul lor într-un nu-măr foarte mare. Dar unde este demnitatea, respectul de sine? Pentru că asta ne trage în jos ca popor. Nu mă refer doar la puştoaice. Că la fel ca ele există şi bărbaţi. Ne vindem pe sume de nimic, alegem prostituţia, nepotismele şi incompetenţa. În schimb, ne pierdem valorile, principiile şi lucrurile care contează. Fata lu’ tata din emisiunea lui Cove este simbolul unei părţi destul de semnificative din România.