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Assuming Makes an Ass out of Uma Thurman

Well, the Death Cab hasn't been terribly dangerous, what with my deceased car and all, but it has been expensive: $19.85 one way from my house to the office. It's also oddly unreliable: this morning, I called at 8:10 and was told the wait was 50 minutes - which was fine, since I was still freshly naked from the shower. Unfortunately, the confirmation call telling me the cab was outside waiting came 2 minutes later. I was fully clothed by that point, so I grabbed my wallet and keys and ran down to the parking lot to find - nothing. No cab. I waited in the brisk cold for 10 minutes before hauling ass upstairs to call Fairfax Yellow Taxi back. The dispatcher apologized and sent the replacement, which came an hour later, making me 40 minutes late to work. Ah, the wonders of private transport.

I did peruse the DC Metrobus schedule, though, and found that I can take a bus to work with only a single transfer. Not only will it mean a more reliable ride, but it will cost me $18 less, since the bus fare is only a buck. So it looks like I will be getting up about 40 minutes earlier every day, but in this case, it's worth the hassle, since I can use the funds I would be spending on a taxi to save for a car instead. I wonder: why is there no game that simulates bus driving? I have a blissful image of recklessly driving a bus around the city, dropping off fares, running over pedestrians, and earning points for upgraded vehicles - say, an enormous Greyhound! Even better, the next GTA installment should take place in Great Britain; can you imagine the thrill of screaming through the streets of London, surrounded by double-decker buses and overly polite drivers who say "cheery-o, old man!" as they give you the finger?

Last night certainly brought its share of drama. As you may know, my best friend Jeff has been picking me up and taking me home every night, bless his gentle heart. Rich had an early day yesterday, though, so he should have been able to pick me up and take me home - but he never called! My own partner - and boy was I pissed. Jeff got me home, and I asked if he minded if I just went inside to talk to Rich alone, since I didn't want him to see my eloquent argument devastate Rich. I was sure that Rich had dissed me, and I wanted him to pay. PAY, I TELL YOU!

Well, you could have blown me over with a breathy whisper: Rich had made a wonderful dinner for both me AND Jeff, replete with turkey breast, a baked potato rolled in rock salt, and green beans. It turns out he had called work and left a message that I never got. So, knowing Jeff was taking me home, he arranged a special night, a night that had dual purposes: enjoy some quality time with me, and inadvertently, make me feel like an ass, when my true goal was to be inflicting guilt, not receiving it!

Such is the fate of a man with an overactive imagination. I think I will sublimate this guilt by finishing Otogi 2 this evening and posting my review at IGO. I am thrilled that Otogi 2 is actually an improvement over its predecessor: deeper, beautiful, and more satisfying to play. I liked, but did not love, the first Otogi, so I am happy to report that the new game may have appeal for those that wanted more from the prior incarnation. I also downloaded and purchased Rollercoaster Tycoon 3, and I am very excited: Rollercoaster Tycoon is my timesink of choice; some players lose their lives to The SIms, Diablo 2, Everquest, and what have you, but my ongoing addiction happens to be Chris Sawyer's classic. The original RCT is easily my most-played game, and the new sequel (and I prefer to pretend RCT 2 never existed, thankyouverymuch) seems to have a lot of wonderful new features that I can't wait to play around with.

So until later, I wish all of you the most wonderful day, and I ask you to remember that roller coasters are meant for amusement parks, NOT for real-life analogies. If only I could take my own advice.