I've said it before, and I'll say it again...

All of creation mocks me. All of it, I tell you! Let us look back along the tapestry of history to a time last week. At that time, my car was starting poorly. A new battery was procured. All was well. No, wait, it wasn't. Car didn't start the next day. The starter motor - that is to blame! But wait, it started up just fine later that day. Was that starting failure a fluke? Let's not fix the starter motor after all, it was decided.

Now let us return to today. Today, when I stopped to get gas on the way home from gaming, and MY CAR WOULDN'T START. Someone give me a doomsday weapon. I dare you.

Anyway, these friendly young people (younger than me, anyway, but out of high school) offered to jump start the car. I said that I had a new battery, and that shouldn't be the problem, but what the heck, let's try it. I don't want to turn away kindness from strangers. One of these people seemed like they might be drunk, and I feared this person attempting to jump start my car would kill us all by setting off an explosion from the nearby gas spill. Thankfully, however, though they had the jumper cables, it was someone else who knew how to perform the ritual itself, and hooked up the cables and gave us instructions. The jump start failed. No surprise, but we tried. Next comes the lent cellphone to call AAA. Then I got to stand around and sort of chat with them for an hour. Now, AAA said that they were running under an hour for assistance time, and there's a tow truck place 5 minutes down the road. Speaking of which, I'm 7 minutes from my house. 7 MINUTES. Anyway, it's been well over an hour, and no truck has materialized to save me. One of my hosts suggests that I try starting the car again. Now, I've tried 6 times to start it already, but I'm thinking "Murphy's Law states that if the tow truck is nearly here, then the car will actually start." I try the car. It starts. We call AAA and cancel the truck. I thank my hospitable, helpful, friendly late teen/early twenties hosts, and depart for home, with a warm feeling in my heart from the knowledge that the next generation of humanity is not populated entirely by psychotic murderous drug addicts, as the evening news would have me believe.

On the plus side...

...wait, there is no plus side. Wah! [performs seppuku]

Actually, tonight's session of Exalted went mostly okay. People were once again disturbed by the horrific things that I conjured up for them. The tentacle things were alarming and described by one player as having "spiky..." which was completed by another player saying "...death bits." They were little actual challenge, but that's okay - there weren't supposed to be as dangerous as the skittering claw things from last session. I pushed them to go just a bit further at the end of the session and open a door so that I could finish off on a particular scene, which featured the delightful...um...spooky thing. Between these spooky critters, the "rockfall angler," the surgically altered corpse nailed to the wall, and the possessed child building working models of monsters from small bones taken from the last monster's lab of body parts, I think that I achieved the overall level of surreal creepiness that I've been aiming for in this part of the game. I've probably also convinced my players that I have serious mental problems. If any players thought that Gethamane would be a dungeon crawl such as in stereotypical D&D, then I've hopefully shattered their expectations.

Fooey

I was hoping to contribute to Livejournal in a non-financial way, 'cause it's nifty and it would be cool to help, and because I kinda wanted another code so I could fire up an extra journal for a fictional character. After searching the ways that I could be part of the wonderful world of Livejournal, I discovered that you can create art for them! Groovy! I can combine my desire to contribute with my obsessive need to create! But, alas, the community doesn't actually seem to have any requests right now. So much for that idea.

Mmm...Inanition. Gotta love that first 26-minute track.

Arise, O Taurus of Ford. Arise!

My car lives again. Actually, I guess it was always "alive," it was just that I was unable to wake it up, so I guess my car was in a coma. My brother was kind enough to come up and put in a new starter motor, and it starts up much better now. Huzzah!

I know there was something else I was going to babble about, but it's totally escaped my mind right now. Oh, well.