Sorry, but I haven't yet shared the information about myself that would typically display here. Check back later to see if that changes, or if I instead choose to remain an enigma.
I have started addictively playing the new pokemon game that has been brought out : Pokemon: Mysterious Dungeon. I didn't really know what to expect at first, but I have to admit, I'm really starting to like it.
Before you start, you take a personality test to see which available starting pokemon is best suited to your personality. At first, I got Chikorita, but Chikorita sucks, so I took it again and fluked some of my answers. I eventually got Torchic, though I really wanted Cyndaquil.
You then choose your "partner pokemon" that assists you throughout the game. I chose Totodile, since they have really good attack power. I don't really remember all the other choices, but there was Squirtle, Mudkip, Pikachu, Bulbasaur and a few others.
Once again, I am going to rant about my comic.
I read through the entire thing a few days ago, and because of that experience, I have decided to completely redraw it. To give an idea to you guys about how large this comic already is, there are four 70 pg sketchbooks, drawn on both sides, and one 100 pg sketchbook, also drawn on both sides. Needless to say, it's pretty darn big.
And I'm gonna make it bigger.
The "first draft", as the original will now be referred, SUCKS. It really does. I know that I wasn't used to drawing the characters and I had just been put through a style change rearding BOTH people and dragons, but still, it sucks. It's just God awful. When I looked at Skoll's malformed head, I died a little inside.
Amazingly enough, the wonderful cold front that has been bringing us lots and lots of rain has blessed this morning with...
That's right! It's at least 55 out there, and I am loving every moment of it! I first felt it this morning when I woke up cold at 5 in the morning, but did I care? NO! Because I was COLD! I was so happy! And then, when I let my dog inside at about 7:30, I ran outside and did a happy jig to celebrate!
Oh, it's so wonderful and happy!
You know... there are times in every person's life when you look around at all the things you're trying to do and suddenly see the pointlessness of it all. Not that I'm going Emo or Goth or anything, but I am just really, really tired. If I weren't so dedicated, I would just go home right now and sleep. But I have a class in about an hour, so... -_-
Oh... I reapplied to Best Buy and Petco... let's see if either of those pan out...
I got to see how ridiculously narrow-minded my father is last night. It was great. There was something about a gay guy on "My Name is Earl" (he loves that show) and he bellowed, "That's an abomination towards God!" blah blah blah. Having a few gay friends myself, I was offended. But did he care? No. Sometimes, I really hate that man.
You can thank your lucky stars: I'm not here to rant about another chapter of that crapheap of a fan fiction. What I am here about is the ever hypocritical statement of some subpar fiction authors: "It's my freedom of speech!"
Yes, I realize that you have the right to write about whatever you want, whether it be a nice goth poem about pain and death or an essay on why you think L from Death Note is autistic. I'm aware of this. But when you write something so shitty it makes me have diarrhea, you're going to have to expect some kind of feedback, whether it's positive or negative.
Sorry, guys. I have to do this. The literary master has composed another fan fiction. You know the one I'm talking about.
Yes, the author of "For the Love of a Lord", the fiction I've been torturing you with for the past couple of blogs, has another fiction that has been brought to my attention. Though there is no Lady Kara for everyone to fall in love with, she has taken Manah from the second Drakengard and mashed her until she fit the role. And of course, the grammar, spelling, and conjigation of verbs is revolting.
My last rant was about the horribleness that is "For the Love of a Lord". Well, now that I have read the evilness that is chapter three, I really am at a loss.
You see, I have a firm belief that a writer can progress and become better as time goes on, no matter how sucky he/she is in the beginning. But this story has proved me wrong. Not only does this chapter three continue the subpar grammer, paragraph structure and god awful dialogue, the plot takes a rather expected twist. Apparently, Caim has an evil twin brother named Liam.