Holy fuck…

PROJECT FUCKING NEEDLEMOUSE?

Wow. For those who don’t know, the new Sonic game here, is codenamed Project Needlemouse, named after Sonic’s name during early Sonic 1 development, Mr. Needlemouse.

Boy does this shit look old-school. The boards are currently flapping their arms in the air, conditioned to expect bad Sonic games. This really does look like someone got the message, though. Just look at it. It just feels right.

If they fail this, then I think that’ll be it. If they win this, which I actually for some reason feel they will, then Sonic will well and truly be back.

I've actually done some…gardening…

Recently I’ve found myself doing more and more pointless and mundane jobs that, up until this point in my life, I never felt like doing. Today, for example, I found myself doing the garden, which is something I’ve never really done in my life until this point, apart from the odd lawn cutting.

I’ve only pulled up some weeds and raked the soil a bit but, really. Why am I caring about weeds? I’ve no real use for the small patch of land that is the front “thing” on the front of the house. I didn’t really pick this place for it’s Garden features, and frankly I don’t think I’ll ever spend any time in there apart from when I enter and exit the house.

Another example of random behavour recently is the fact that I polished the house. I’m usually quite neat in general but I don’t normally feel the need to de-dust things because, lets face it, who can ever see the dust anyway? The Hoover does enough to keep it from looking like an abandoned air-raid shelter, but yet I dusted up the whole place. Wasn’t even very dusty, but I did it anyway.

I think I’m becoming domesticated. I’m quite worried really,  because I don’t want to be that domesticated. I’m of the philosophy that man should be lazy and get the girlfriend to do all the work, but uh, for some reason, I’m doing it myself?

Next thing you know I’ll be nitting and popping over for tea at the Agnes Hopkins Centre.

I’ve actually done some…gardening…

Recently I’ve found myself doing more and more pointless and mundane jobs that, up until this point in my life, I never felt like doing. Today, for example, I found myself doing the garden, which is something I’ve never really done in my life until this point, apart from the odd lawn cutting.

I’ve only pulled up some weeds and raked the soil a bit but, really. Why am I caring about weeds? I’ve no real use for the small patch of land that is the front “thing” on the front of the house. I didn’t really pick this place for it’s Garden features, and frankly I don’t think I’ll ever spend any time in there apart from when I enter and exit the house.

Another example of random behavour recently is the fact that I polished the house. I’m usually quite neat in general but I don’t normally feel the need to de-dust things because, lets face it, who can ever see the dust anyway? The Hoover does enough to keep it from looking like an abandoned air-raid shelter, but yet I dusted up the whole place. Wasn’t even very dusty, but I did it anyway.

I think I’m becoming domesticated. I’m quite worried really,  because I don’t want to be that domesticated. I’m of the philosophy that man should be lazy and get the girlfriend to do all the work, but uh, for some reason, I’m doing it myself?

Next thing you know I’ll be nitting and popping over for tea at the Agnes Hopkins Centre.