More funks than you can funking handle. Mother funker.

An insight into the mind of a misanthropic gamer.

Thursday, 24 September 2009

The Diary of Nicola Marié Evans - August 28th 2277

August 28th 2277:

Dear Diary:

Well, exploring the Super-Duper Mart was eventful. I ran into this japanese guy, Taro his name was. He saved my life a few times, he's one hell of a good shot. He tell's me hes descended from a long line of Japanese-American commando's. They're skills were passed down from father to son, and it seems these skill's managed to live through the nuclear holocaust aswell.
The Super-duper mart was filled with raiders, I'm glad I ran into Taro outside. He handed me a spare assault rifle, and we ran through the raiders like a hot knife through butter. I got shot once, but it was nothing too painful. Taro taught me some medical tips, and the pain was gone straight away. I need to keep my eye out for bandages and stimpacks.
I found the raiders stash of drugs and food, and piled it into my brahmin-skin bag. Taro said he'd hang with me for a while, he says he's bored of travelling by himself. I could use a hand in defending myself anyway, I didn't kill any of the raiders in the Super-Duper mart. I just wounded one, and Taro executed her. It was a little gruesome, but I guess she deserved it.
When I got back to Megaton, Moira gave me a free suit of leather armour and some Morphine needles. The leather armour will help keep me from getting hurt and the morphine will keep me standing up when I do get hurt. Oh, I also found out what Cap's are. Cap's are the currency in the 'Capital Wasteland'. They're just bottlecaps from Nuka-Cola bottles. I found about 200 of them in the Super-Duper mart. I don;t know why the raiders had them though, if they just pillage places for their stuff. I'm going to pay that Moriarty fellow for info on where my Daddy has gotten to. Anyway, Nic out.

Sunday, 20 September 2009

Bus Girl

Wow, random blog reader, I really didnt expect you to read one of these. 'One of what?' I hear you ask. Well, I'm rather ashamed to admit it but this post is about girls. Yes, you know, those things that are like boys but with different naughty bit's. Ah, yeah, now you get me. Like your mother, yes.
Well I don't know if you know this, Random blog reader, but I'm not as charming and loveable as you'd think I was from all these blog posts. In reality, I'm a unconfident moron who's only charming in a cynical way(which isn't really appreciated by the ladies). Anyway, I'm going to tell you a story about 'Bus Girl'. I'd like to think of her as a symbol. A symbol, of how bad I am with girls.
One with the story, eh? Well last wednesday, I got on the bus for college(as usual). It was really crowded so, naturally, I was immediately pissed off. So, I fumbled into my pocket for my iPod, and turned up the fantastic music that is Avenged Sevenfold. As I looked up, I saw Bus Girl. Now, you're probably thinking she's some drop-dead gorgeous girl or something. Well, she wasn't. She was modestly pretty. Something I quite like in a lass, really. Usually, modestly pretty girls usually lose points in the pretty department but put them into the personality one.
You're also thinking I hit it off with her as well(which would be stupid, I already told you I'm shit with ladies). I didn't talk to her at all. I just kind of looked her occasionally, as I tend to do. It's a shame really, I've kind of lost my trail here. I guess, I'm done with this post? I have writer's block it seems. My genius has vanished for the night. Anyway, I pretty much told you this story anyway. Now, you may go weep because you're hero isn't all he cracked up to be. Fuck, I'm such an egomaniac. Fuck it, I'm done.

Monday, 14 September 2009

The Diary of -- Nah, i'm just fucking with you

I'm a tad bored with all these FO Diary updates. I love writing them, but five in a row is pushing it a little. I reckon you all deserve a nice little rant y'know? Bit of me to brighten up your day? Pahaha, reading these things probably pisses you off. Anyway, down to business.
You know what? I'm going to be clichéd for once, I'm going to bitch and moan about how shit college was. I went in today, to learn that my timetables been fucked with. Turns out, I dont have any lessons on a monday. I wish I'd been fucking told, it was a huge waste of a morning. My mum drove me up to the college, instead of sleeping. I spent a hour and forty five doing boring as shit admin stuff, like college rules. Then, I had to wait and hour and a half for a bus to show up thanks to that fucking bus strikes. Seriously, fuck bus drivers, I hate them.
Right, let's try and get some positivity up in this motherfucker. I get mondays off, fucking three day weekend! least I've got something to bloody look forward to. Right, I'm all out of positivity. Back to being that cynical dickhead you all know and hate then? Fuck it, I'm all ranted out. Later

Friday, 4 September 2009

The Diary of Nicola Marié Evans - August 27th 2277

August 27th 2277:

Dear Diary:

I'm finally over this little 'murder' thing. It took Mr. Simm's and Moira two days to convince me that Burke deserved it. Thinking about it, he did. He wanted to kill almost fifty people! That's crazy, these are good people. On the positive side, atleast I've got a good aim?

Mr Simm's said he owes me his life, so he gave me the keys to the house near the main gate. That's right, diary I know own my own house and I'm only 19! That's a pretty swell achievement dont you think? It's such a cool house. It has a bed ... with NO lice in it. I also have this cool butler, and a wierd Vault-Tec stand. I dont know what I'm meant to put on it, but I guess I'll keep my eye's peeled for any vault tec stuff.

I've decided to start doing some research for Moira as well, she's writing a book on surviving in the wasteland. It'd be helpful for me(I'll eventually have to leave this place) and any other travellers. Tomorrow morning I'll be checking out an old super-market just a little way east from the main gate. I'm meant to be looking for food and medicine. Anyway, it's time for my to go tinker with my rifle, keep my dexterity shart and all that. G'bye!