Japanese Release: March 28, 2002
North American Release: September 17, 2002

Squaresoft has been known to produce a stride of quality games that the moment one game gets the “Squaresoft treatment”, most role-playing gamers will be raving about it from the day it gets publicized up to the time when they finally get their hands on it. Now, Square does something with an extra twist that might either impact the gaming community or stain the name. Behold, Kingdom Hearts.

KH combines the familiar and not-so-familiar Square characters with the very popular, unlikely-to-pair-with Disney characters. How does the idea actually work? Try combining a newly-introduced 12-year-old kid with whom most can identify and a few debuting, fresh supporting characters, a palette of famous Square faces, Disney favorites, and a provocative plot fueled by a well-manipulated concept derived from the simplest source — you know something great is brewin’. Since its release, KH made a name for itself. Who knew many would favor the mix?

Graphically, KH uses a very colorful tone on distinct character and terrain models, mimicking a 3D cartoony look. This was fairly received by the public. Although one that strikes a great deal of input in the overall value of the game are the battle controls. Many were disappointed when they felt the game was a button-masher, giving an impression that it lacked difficulty for hard-core gamers. Personally, I don’t mind it since the whole setup and quest to reveal more Square and Disney faces was keeping me busy the whole time. It’s all about fun. Being an action RPG, it’s no surprise that some battle controls still apply during exploration. Most Disney character voices are genuine, and the use of powerhouse names to voice the “mute” Square characters was a treat. With the odds that more than half of the gaming community either really liked it or was okay with it, chances are, you’d go with the majority too.

Personal Score: 83%

do you like Final Fantasy 7? do you like rap music? this may be for you. i know this has been out for a good few days now, but i still think it’s something SD definitely needs to be showing you.

from Team Teamwork, the same bros that brought you the ever so awesome Ocarina of Rhyme, we now have Vinyl Fantasy 7. here’s a video where you can hear Gucci Mane’s “Stoopid” mixed with the warm summer theme of Costa De Sol. very cool.

you can give the whole album a download from the link below:

Vinyl Fantasy 7 Album – Team Teamwork

“Are you sitting down?!” was the phrase of choice Squall decided to open up a recent phone conversation with one day.

Now, while this common saying would more than likely cause anyone else’s heart to begin racing, my friends and I, especially the aforementioned Squall, are prone to use it before revealing topics that would be of little, if any, importance to normal humans. As I waited for him to tell me about his latest “Halo 3″ level conquest, his discovery of a nearby Sonic Drive-In, or something similar that would justify his inquiry, he followed up with “Guess what I found online?!”

“What?,” I asked, my brain unable to come up with anything more clever thanks to my constant visits to homestarrunner.com (about the adventures of a mentally challenged marshmallow and his friends), subservientchicken.com (about a guy in a chicken suit who will do anything you request), fark.com (about a listing of all the day’s news events, especially those involving links to humorous online videos about cats committing suicide), and all of the other online content Squall had found for me over the years.

“The Great American Cookie Company sugar cookie recipe!,” he exclaimed with the same amount of joy one might experience following a lottery win.

Explanation time, I presume. The Great American Cookie Company is a chain of cookie stands operated in malls all across the country, particularly in Georgia. Up until 2004, a branch of the company was in operation within the hallways of King of Prussia Mall, a local shopping edifice at which my friends and I often mallratted. While I personally neglected to consume 99.9% of the snack eatery’s menu, its pink-sprinkle-coated sugar cookies always managed to flatter my taste buds in such a way that the 50-mile round trip to the mall seemed more than justified. I have no idea what their secret is, but these sugary sweets are one of the extremely limited number of things that are actually good about America. Tragically, the mall closed down the cookie stand and eventually replaced it with a branch of the ice cream shop “Cold Stone Creamery,” which my friends and I have vowed never to patronize, and not only because it has the word “creamery” in its name. Fortunately, I was soon able to locate another “Great American Cookie Company” stand in the Voorhees Town Center, a small New Jersey shopping compound located about 25 miles and a Delaware River crossing toll away from home. Now, however, Squall was in possession of what he claimed was an actual recipe for our favorite snack food written by an employee of one of the stores. It seemed too terrific to be true…and it was.

See, neither I nor any of my friends are what you would call seasoned chefs. Most of the food that we are (somewhat) capable of making at home is either easily microwaved or poured into a bowl with milk; the only exception to this rule is our knowledge of how to prepare Ramen noodles, which I believe is a trait that everyone who attended college in the late 1990s onward naturally developed out of necessity. So when it came to using the unfamiliar appliance my mom calls an “oven” to “bake” these cookies from raw ingredients, Squall and I were rather lost. I must admit that, in all fairness, I had the upper hand in our quest, thanks to the days of my social-life-lacking younger years when I would help my mom bake Christmas cookies so as to avoid helping my dad string up the house’s exterior light display in frigid December temperatures. This is not to be confused with my apparent social-life-lacking OLDER years, wherein I and my fellow twentysomething friend spend Saturdays making cookies based on Internet recipes. Recalling how my mother and I would divide up the kitchen duties (she would do the ingredient gathering, mixing, cutting, baking, and overall preparation whilst I would eat raw cookie dough right from the bowl), I applied said duty divisions to my and Squall’s current project. To give you culinary types out there a hearty laugh, here is a mere sampling of some of the statements made by us:

“What the hell is ’shortening’?”

“I’ve never heard of an ‘electric’ mixer.”

“It says we have to ‘chill’ the dough for an hour; does that mean we stick it in the freezer?”

Despite an initial fright of the electric mixer, Squall and I managed to get through the basic mixing and raw cookie dough eating phases of the scenario with surprise ease. Cutting the dough into (shapes that vaguely resembled) circles with, honestly, the mouth of a drinking glass, we were finally able to place our soon-to-be-cookies onto a cookie sheet and place them into the oven, immediately after which we transferred our soon-to-be-cookies onto a cookie sheet that actually fit in the oven. After 7-8 minutes, we pulled the tray back out of the oven, ready to see if we had succeeded in replicating the “Great American Cookie Company” recipe, despite the fact that said company does this and nothing else day in and day out while we were relying on a recipe from the Internet written by someone named “Nicole” who honestly inserted the phrase “I think” into its text. As per my tongue, our sweets may have gone into the oven tasting like raw cookie dough loaded with sugar, but came out tasting like…

(Drum roll)

…raw cookie dough loaded with sugar, only slightly warmer.

Yes, our effort sadly ended with our sixteen full-size cookies and eight cookie fragments (made from a recipe claiming to produce 36 sweets) tasting no more like “Great American Cookie Company” cookies than spaghetti.

Maybe we should just stick with Ramen noodles.

However, I am proud to report that, to my knowledge, neither one of us contracted a raw-cookie-dough-ingesting-related stomach virus and, being the persistent optimists we are, it is a safe bet that Squall and I will be spending the next Saturday engaging in…you guessed it…a trip to the Voorhees Town Center’s sole cookie stand.

To wring Nicole’s neck.

Passionatte Squall – 聖痕のクェイサー ED

Download :

Bemanistyle

Mediafire

Don’t ask me about this anime. I just like the ending song. Again, please

Difficulties : x/3/5/9/11/x

Bpm : 120

En route from Chicago to Detroit, I have driven through many, many squalls.

However, I didn’t know the official term for it until my friend Heather told me over drinks.

squall—1. A strong wind characterized by a sudden onset, a duration of the order of minutes, and then a rather sudden decrease in speed.

in U.S. observational practice, a squall is reported only if a wind speed of 16 knots or higher is sustained for at least two minutes (thereby distinguishing it from a gust). See line squall, white squall, williwaw. 2. In nautical use, a severe local storm considered as a whole, that is, winds and cloud mass and (if any) precipitation, thunder and lightning.

I am also learning the lyrics to this song by Fukyama Masaharu. It’s a song written by a woman, and you know that Fukuyama is imagining that she’s singing about him. He’s an over-the-top narcissist, and his voice is lovely.

さっきまでの　通り雨が
ウソみたいにキレイな空

そんなふうに　微笑むから
いつのまにか　うれしくなるよ

ちょっと大きなあなたのシャツ
通した袖をつまんでみた　今…

私　恋をしている　哀しいくらい
もう隠せない　この切なさは
もっといっしょにいたい　ふたりでいたい
叶えて欲しい　夏の憧れ

さがしてた　あなただけ…

汗をかいた　アイスティーと
撮りすぎたポラロイド写真

あんなふうに　ハシャいだから
帰り道は　さみしくなるよ

夕焼け染まる駅のホーム
手を振るあなた　遠くなっていく…

私　恋に落ちてる　苦しいくらい
もう隠せない　熱いときめき
ずっとめぐり逢うこと　夢に観てたの
わかって欲しい　夏の憧れ

And I touched the rain
So I need your love

私　恋をしている　恋に落ちてる
もう隠さない　熱いときめき
やっとめぐり逢えたの　夢に観てたの
醒めることない　夏の憧れ

さがしてた　あなただけ…

Mark 4:35-41

On that day, as evening drew on, Jesus said to his disciples, “Let us cross to the other side.” Leaving the crowd, they took Jesus with them in the boat just as he was. And other boats were with him. A violent squall came up and waves were breaking over the boat, so that it was already filling up.

Jesus was in the stern, asleep on a cushion. They woke him and said to him, “Teacher, do you not care that we are perishing?” He woke up, rebuked the wind, and said to the sea, “Quiet!  Be still!” The wind ceased and there was great calm. Then he asked them, “Why are you terrified? Do you not yet have faith?”

They were filled with great awe and said to one another, “Who then is this whom even wind and sea obey?”

The Daily Path: Jesus asks them: “Why are you terrified? Do you not yet have faith?”

It doesn’t get any easier to understand than that. Faith IS our calm in the storm.

Peace, my friends.

I hope to think, that in most cases in my life, it’s not about the money.  To me, money is something that is necessary to be able to do the things that I like and to live the lifestyle that I would like to live.  I need to have what I need, enough for the future, and some for emergencies, but I don’t need a ton of it to be happy or to feel successful.

That being said, to say that I don’t worry about money would be a lie.  For now, things are okay.  But, where will they be in 2 years, in 5 years, in 10 years, in 20 years?  Will I be able to pay for a college education for Nathaniel?  Will I be able to pay the mortgage?  Will I be able to afford hay?  Let’s face it… John’s death took away my financial stability.  John’s job was secure and paid much more than mine.  He has a small retirement, but it’s very small.  Only time will tell.  I try to be responsible, I try to be frugal.

But at the same time, I have things that I don’t want to compromise on.  The house was John’s dream, the farm was mine.  I have no plans to leave.  The horses are my life, some days they are what keeps me going.  They’re probably the reason that I’m not heavily dosed on anti-depressants.  They give me a reason to keep going.  I kid that they’re very expensive dogs since they’re pretty much “pet” horses right now.  John wasn’t a compromiser- he liked quality things and he had quality things.  I think I’m entitled to keep a few things in my life that make me happy and keep me sane.

During evening feed, I was staring at the sky as I do more than ever.  I was looking at the bright stars and watching planes.  I find myself looking to the sky for answers that aren’t there.  Although, I haven’t found answers,  I find myself captivated by the beauty and in awe of the vastness of the night sky.  I embraced the cold and enjoyed the peacefulness.

I waited for Wilson to finish eating, so I could remove his grain bag.  I thought about Wilson.  His creation was not planned and a vet misdiagnosis kept him alive.  Had the vet told me the mare was pregnant, I would have aborted the pregnancy.  I didn’t need another horse.  I didn’t want another horse.  I would have never opted to breed his mother and never purposefully created the cross.

Willow is a dear sweet mare and usually my horse of choice to ride.  She is a purebred, but unregistered Standardbred with her own interesting story of surviving abortion.  Willow is common and just a plain Jane, a bit like myself.  She doesn’t even have a single bit of chrome… solid bay.  She has a heart of gold but as a whole she is firmly implanted in the average department.  She’s a bit of a klutz and a rider needs to keep her together because when ’self carriage’ was handed out, she missed the meeting.

Willow

I only found out that Willow was pregnant about a month before she foaled.  A maiden, she carried her secret well and hid it under the guise of ‘a little plump from the spring grass.’

Willow in May 2007, a little over a month before she foaled.

I had nightmares of what the foal would look like… in my head I created a hugely disproportionate beast with a huge Standardbred jug head, almost mule-like ears, long thin spindly Thoroughbred legs, and an Arabian croup… the poor creature in my dreams was doomed.

I was surprised beyond my wildest dreams, when out popped a colt who could have been a clone of his sire, whom I dearly love.

Wilson, 3 days old

Wilson, 8-25-07 What a mover!!! He took my breath away.

Wilson, August 2007

Wilson, Summer 2007

Wilson quickly stole my heart.  In my head I have a “keep” list and a “could go and I wouldn’t be heartbroken” list.  Wilson, Winston, Willow, & Squall are firmly implanted on keep list.  Remi bobbles between the two.  Tiny and Amber are on the later list.

Wilson, September 2009

Last February,  shortly before John’s stage IV diagnosis, Wilson managed to get a nail head in his knee joint (link to his injury after it had been treated for a while- graphic).  It was one of those… you could never repeat it if you tried injuries.   It’s never a good thing when the vet says, “this is bad… (pause)… really bad.”  She wanted him to go to New Bolton (U of PA’s vet school- where Barbaro was treated).  However, I don’t have the funds that the Jackson’s have and Wilson is not a Kentucky Derby winner.   I knew that I’d walk away with at least a $5,000 bill.  The vet didn’t give Wilson a good prognosis (even if he’d go to New Bolton).  Full recovery was unlikely- highly unlikely.  Permanent lameness was very likely.  The injury going septic and losing him was also possibility.

I didn’t want him to go to New Bolton.  I knew we didn’t have the funds for that and I know how quickly a vet bill can grow exponentially there.  John more or less vetoed New Bolton.  He didn’t flat out say “No!” but he said, “he’s not worth what you’ll put into him for a vet bill.”  He left it at “he’s your horse.”

I was faced with a tough decision.  On one hand, Wilson was young.  As a coming two year old, he had probably 20 or maybe even 30 years ahead of him.  Euthanizing  a young animal is not a choice anybody wants to make.  But living an entire life as a cripple isn’t an attractive option either.  Feeding a lame horse costs the same, if not more, than feeding a sound horse.  Unlike Squall, Wilson, hasn’t earned a retirement.  I looked into Wilson’s eyes.

Wilson, June 2009

It reminded me of when I had to make another tough decision when Squall had an impaction colic in 2003.  I recalled looking into her eyes and I didn’t see a dying horse.  When I looked into Wilson’s eyes, I saw a horse who was full of life.

I couldn’t put him down.

I opted to treat him at home for a while.  The vets weren’t thrilled with my decision… they wanted him in a hospital setting.  Shortly after Wilson was injured, John got his stage IV diagnosis and my world turned completely upside down and my stress level was through the roof.  My vet wanted to try a clinical procedure to try to fight the infection and I think she realized that I needed a break before I had a complete breakdown.  So, Wilson went to the vet clinic for a few days.  They were shocked that he was sound and the x-rays although not stellar had positive signs.  Luck, good medicine, ultra heavy duty antibiotics, lots of treatment,  diligent wrapping, over a case (or two) of  co-flex, and probably a little bit of a miracle finally beat the infection.   It took months for his wound to completely heal.

John would patiently help me with the wrap changes.  We theorized over how to keep his wrap in place as it had a tendency to slip.  John helped me find supplies online to save money.  He theorized that “human” abdominal pads would be more effective at absorbing the leakage and fluid.  After confirming it was okay, we began to use them.  John was always so good at helping with the horses and so patient.  Helping with the horses wasn’t something that John did by choice and I don’t think he ever loved them, but for a non- horse person he did a great job handling them.  Remi adored him, he always liked John more than he liked me.  John used to say that Remi was our only “real horse” (because he was a good size- unlike my shorter equines).

Wilson sporting his wrap job. It was called a "stacked wrap" because it required two sets of quilts to cover the length of the leg. I'm not the most competent at wrapping and it was very challenging. I think it took around $20 worth of supplies for every wrap change. Co flex, 4"x 4" pads, gauze wrap, cast padding, quilts, standing wrap, and more...

At this time, Wilson’s knee is a little larger and he has a scar that is close to an inch long.  Honestly, I don’t know that anybody would notice unless they were looking for it.  I’ve paid more in vet bills (I think they topped at between $2,800 and $3,000) than he’ll ever be worth.  He’s sound and man, is he a mover!!!  I have a secret dream of getting him all fit and conditioned and showing him in hand at somewhere like Dressage at Devon, just to hear people say, “He’s cute.  What’s his breeding?”  It will probably just stay a dream of mine.  Who knows what Wilson’s future holds?  I don’t know if he’ll stay sound under work.  He may need a career that doesn’t stress his knee to much.  Of course, that won’t be a problem, since my riding is low key and I no longer jump.  I’ve never regreted my decision… sometimes it’s not about the money.

Tonight, after he was done eating, I took his feed bag off.  He stood by me wanting some pets.  It was just me and my little buddy hanging out together in the darkness.  He’s very bonded to me.  Most horses would have gone to eat their hay but all Wilson wanted was some companionship and love.  Yeah… sometimes it’s not about the money…

Wilson, September 2007

Squall Great Flying EDF

This Jet is SO much fun. First, it’s fast. With the 4 cell setup it really scoots. For me, however, what really makes it fun is the Vectored Thrust setup. Have full 3 axis control which in a nose-high attitude with zero ground speed! Yes. This thrust vector setup is good clean fun. Flat spins are just amazing.

Thrust Vector Unit - For Squall and EF-16

And in case you wanted to roll 3-4 times a second, no problem, it does that too. Very cool

Because the Squall is lightweight it’s easy to launch. It doesn’t require any kind of launcher. One other great thing.. the Vectored Thrust system will fit on an EF-16 too!

We’re doing okay.  My wonderful neighbor plowed us out today.  I shoveled the walk.  Feeding the horses is more of an aerobic exercise with all of the snow.

I did have to rescue Punkin last night.  She got herself high centered when she sunk in the snow.  She looked like she was swimming trying to get to me when I called her for dinner.  Poor girl.  But she’s no worse for the wear.

Nathaniel 12-19-09

Nathaniel, 12-19-09

Tiny 12-19-09

Tiny 12-20-09

Tiny feeling her oats, 12-20-09

Remington is a good 16 plus hands tall... you can see the snow is pretty darn close to his knees and hocks! 12-20-09

The run in shed was a popular place, Squall & Remi 12-20-09

In fact... nobody strayed too far from the run in shed 12-20-09

Winston is not too keen on the whole snow thing, 12-20-09

Rascal, 12-19-09

Snow sculpture 12-20-09

The deck, 12-20-09

House, 12-20-09

Our super neighbor- Charlie, taking care of our driveway. 12-20-09

John's grave, 12-19-09

Today, my friend from high school, Marc, & his wife, Sherri, and daughter, Haley, came for a visit.  Sixteen years ago, Marc rode Squall on a few occasions.  Today, his daughter had her first horseback ride on the same Ms. Squall.

Haley riding Squall. Haley is petting her withers. She liked how soft she was.

I just thought it was neat.

Nathaniel and I have also shared the same experience, but it’s a little different… I own the mare.

Nathaniel on Squall

Squall & Mary- back in the day. (Ignore the terrible position- I never was an Eq rider. Although I did win my Equitation division on Equitation Day at Maryland State Fair one year- totally shocked me... lol... )

I just hope that maybe in sixteen more years Nathaniel will take interest in a certain red bike…

John's beloved Trek

And that one day…. this rider…

Nathaniel on his bike.

Will look much more like this rider…

John finishing 100 mile Philly LiveStrong Challenge, August 2008

I’d love for Nathaniel to share my love of horses and his father’s love of cycling.  But in reality, Nathaniel will have to forge his own paths and find his own interests.  I’ll try to do everything I can to foster his desires, help guide when he needs it, always support him, and follow him down his paths.  I think that’s what good parents do.  John would expect no less.

I initially detailed the events of the following topic on one of many free blog sites I owned before the birth of fumor.net. It details the events (if you wish to call them such) surrounding my friend Rengaw’s 21st birthday back in early 2003. While we have had our respective drunken escapes, either individually, in pairs, or as groups, the majority of my friends and I were never big drinkers. We felt that we were demented enough sober and thus didn’t need alcohol to make a night interesting or memorable.

As stated, I attended a 21st birthday party for Rengaw, who had turned that ripe old age of, you guessed it, 47. No, seriously, he turned 21 and was thus a recipient of a party attended by family, friends, and free alcohol. The latter aspect is what many people enjoy about 21st birthday parties, myself not included.

Yes, you read me right: I, then a 20-something suburban male, was not only a non-drinker, but I had also never even touched a drink in my life (unless you count the time I fetched Navy a beer from his fridge, when I was, technically, touching a drink). But I never imbibed alcohol until my late 20s; the most lethal liquid that my system had ever been exposed to at that point was Pepsi One, which I believe can fuck you up much worse than any liquor could.

It’s not that I am anti-drinking; it’s simply a personal choice of mine. It’s like choosing Coke over Pepsi, pepperoni over plain, dating over masturbating, etc. This is not the philosophy shared by some of my friends, however, who are such chronic drinkers that their combined urine was shown to be 50 proof. Moreover, they constantly discuss all types of alcohol in intricate (meaning frightening) detail, always describing how a certain brand will “fuck you up”. Let me tell you something: in my world, if I’m getting “fucked” by anything, I’d like it to involve a nice-looking girl instead of a nice-tasting Guinness. But, to each his/her/its own.

The age of 21 is an interesting one. In many respects, it is the first age of adulthood…except when it comes to affairs involving the government. In the eyes of the government, 18-year-olds are adult enough to vote for U.S. leaders or get their asses killed in war…yet aren’t adult enough to have a sip of wine or pull a slot machine handle. Drawing on this fact, 21 is an age where everything that you used to do illegally is now OK to nosy authorities or nosy neighbors who phone nosy authorities. This is evident by the 21st birthday party itself; had my friend Rengaw’s parents provided him with all of this alcohol ONE DAY EARLIER, they would have been thrown in jail. But today, it is fine. And thus, once everything becomes legal for those of us who have reached our seventh birthday for the third time…doing stuff is no longer fun, at least according to people who have drunk on both sides of the age 21 barrier. Underage parties, vacationing parents, fake IDs…apparently, all of this is ENJOYABLE to people who haven’t yet secured a decent credit history. But once 21 comes…meh.

Drinking is part of life. The excitement is gone.

Anyhow, Rengaw’s party marked the umpteenth social gathering I’ve been to that didn’t result in me drinking. While everyone else feasted on Coors and Paps, I feasted on Coke and pretzels. My cups went untouched by the party’s abundant beers, vodkas, Mountain Dews, etc. I cannot say the same for my friends, who drank themselves a few steps closer to that first AA meeting with seemingly enough alcohol to flood Manhattan Island. Even my then-19-year-old sister was treated to some wine cooler, which instantly sent her measly 110-pound-body into a frenzy of giggles and slurred speech that eventually gave way to unconsciousness. While many people there, including immediate family, said that they’d like to see me drunk, my choice not to drink wasn’t heavily objected to. Maybe they are all beginning to accept it. Maybe they’re all willing to see that I just don’t want any. Maybe they need a designated driver later.

In closing, I must say that my sober ass enjoyed itself, particularly because I got to see Squall get wasted. A few sips of alcohol, possibly even the smell of it, is enough to set good old Squall back a few hundred thousand brain cells, causing him to look at us as well as random objects as if seeing them for the first time. Navy, whose state-issued ID at the time said that he is 20 but whose back-room-of-a-photo-developing-center issued ID says that he is 21 is the next one to turn that magical age recently enjoyed by Birthday Boy Rengaw: 47.

No wait…47 is just the proof number of his urine.

Well, lessons recommenced this week, after the nice leisurely “vacances de Toussaint”. Monday is one of my favourite days for lessons, as I have one lecture at 10am. It is nice and leisurely. My only complaint, is that it is very biased towards France. Below are a few issues that have arisen during lectures:

• France keeps going on about how they were the first to give universal suffrage to it’s citizens. They forget to mention the important fact that it was taken away from them a few years later by Napoleon III. They like to mention that universal suffrage wasn’t acheived in the UK until around WWI. They forget that they gave women the vote AFTER WWII!. Morons.
• The lecturer looks like Alan Carr.
• The lecturer wore a turtleneck the other day. Fo sho.
• He claimed that the Tories and the Liberals were the first political parties in England, and that they were very late forming. Someone hasn’t been told about the Whigs.
• The dreaded préfet popped up, and regional government in France. So boring.

So, that was Monday. Tuesday was worse. I had my nice Civilisation class, as always, as well as my terrible English class. We did a translation, two infact, before half term. As a test. I got 9,5 for my French-English one, which is 45 in real terms, and 5, which isn’t even a pass, for my excellent rendition of Harry Potter in French. The woman who teaches it is an odd one. She kept saying “Privet Drive” as “Private Drive”, she said “drowsy” as it is written, instead of “drough-zy”, and said “bespecktackled” instead of “bespecktekld”. She is teaching them wrong English. She taught them that a ’squall’ is a kind of wind. I’m sure it is, but I have never EVER used that word in my life…

En entradas anteriores les había platicado del concurso Liga Cosplay organizado por el foro anim-arte y el grupo Drakkar. Este concurso es una serie de actividades que se han estado realizando durante todo el año,  como la  calificación se basa  en puntos, pueden inscribirse en cualquier momento.

Las actividades son muy divertidas y ponen a trabajar la creatividad que esconde todo cosplayer.

Las actividades consecutivas a la primera que les comente en pasadas entradas y el material con el que he concursado en cada una de ellas son las siguientes:

1.- Cubre bocas Cosplayero. Se trata de hacer un cubre bocas que se adapte a un traje que el cosplayer tenga. Yo hice el mío en base a mi traje de Squall (Final Fantasy).

Cubre Bocas de Squall (Final Fantasy)

2.- Fototutorial. Hacer un tutorial con fotografías. Esta actividad fue muy interesante ya que todos los cosplayer que participaron aportaron ideas muy creativas y utiles para cualquier cosplayer. El mío se titula:  Arma Hecha con Pasta Automotriz.

3.- Verano. Es exactamente igual a la primera dinámica “Primavera”, un concurso de cosplays. Aquí participe con Demian Von Prios.

 

Paty as Demian Von Prios

4.- Paper 2 Cosplay. Se trata de hacer un traje a base de puro papel en parejas. Mi pareja fue Arish, una linda colega cosplayer de Guadalajara. Los personajes fueron de Pokemon: Pikachu y Ledyba.

 

Arish y Paty

5.- Funny Photo Cosplay. Una foto graciosa de cosplay con texto que le agregué aun mas diversión.

 

Marisol y yo en TNT

Y por último, la actividad que en este momento se lleva a cabo.

6.- Video Cosplay. Se trata de hacer un video de algún anime, caricatura o película.

Esta actividad me volvió loca, era un pretexto perfecto para llevar a cabo un proyecto de tenía en mente hace años atrás. ¿Han visto la película del “Silencio de los Inocentes”?.  La parte donde el asesino en serie “Bufallo Biil” baila enfrente de una cámara siempre me trae a la mente el momento en que todo cosplayer se prueba su traje a medio terminar imaginándose como quedara. En la película Bufallo Bill es un acecino maniaco sicótico, en mi video es una cosplayer obsesionada por ser la mejor, por esto tiene prisionera a una linda cosplayer que trata de escapar secuestrando a la mascota del acecino al igual que en la película original.

La liga aún no termina… ¿Qué esperas para inscribirte y participar?

Siempre lo digo: ¡Vamos es divertido!, porque de eso se trata el cosplay ;D 

Okay… almost 2PM… I really should be in bed… luckily I got a nice long nap this AM.

But, I DID IT!!!

On this rainy dreary day filled with frozen fingers that were too cold to undo knots and could barely work buckles.  I managed to get a sheet on poor shivering Squall.  I HATE reynauds.  My fingers were burning and hurt so badly.  Last year, I would have came in the house in tears because of the pain and frustration.

This year… they still hurt, but no time for tears over fingers.  John faced cancer and died from the disease with barely a complaint and very few tears.  I can be strong enough to deal with thirty minutes of frozen fingers!

Here is the video link to slide show funeral tribute created by Mary Ann Kyte.

One down two to go… later… first bed…

so i’ve been wanting to try the dogfish head squall ipa since i first read about it in the beer advocate a few months ago but with none to be found in boston i knew i’d have to head north to portland, maine and stop in at novare res bier garden to quench my thirst. my review is simple and to the point cause since i can’t really stand beer folk jargon. if there was a dogfish head 75 minute ipa this would be it, smooth like the 60 min but the bite of the 90 min with out the strong alcohol after taste. i loved every sip and if you can locate it do so and cheers!