Most of you probably sit at you computer thinking: "Man this Sven guy has some opinions I definitely agree with, and is probably very attractive." It is true, I do have opinions you agree with. Unfortunately I am not attractive. My dating life is little more than a series of restraining orders or awkward exchanges with chicks who aren't turned on by the smell of beer on my shirt and an erection they can feel through my pants. My opinions are what matters.
I thank you for the support of my opinions, but what follows are fact. Just a little more information about "Mien Blogger".
I was born on April 28 1986, within the Zone of Alienation, just two days after the Chernobyl accident. The shock of the radiation sent my mother into a violent labor during her second trimester. Had it not been for our families proud Czechoslovakian heritage we would have left the Zone of Alienation for a capable, unradiated hospital. In hell would my parents disgrace the Czechs.
Before I continue my tale, there is a short aside that is worth mention. I have seven brothers who I share a birthday with. Coincidence? Serendipity? No, you are foolish and offend me for thinking fate could accomplish a feat this amazing. While Fate was sitting on a couch eating bon-bons, the world's most special holiday was "doin work". Breeding day.
Every September (sans my conception as I was born a full trimester early) my parents would lock my siblings and me in a ten by ten foot shed. We were allotted two gallons of chocolate milk and an unsliced pound of Oscar Meyer bologna. While we learned the pitfalls of inadequate resource management, our parents would get down to business. With a little bit of planning, and a huge amount of determination they would conceive a child within that day.
Six Breeding Days came and six Breeding Days passed. Each without an increase in rations or shack size despite our increasing numbers. A childhood of bland existence, seasoned with a dozen or so moderately-outstanding events, most not even worth mention in this post. There is, however, one exception. The highlight of my abysmal yet efficient childhood. Conception Day.
In keeping with the Catholic Church's beliefs the Lyndon family believes that life begins at the moment of conception. Celebrating one's birthday only serves to reinforce the left wing's notion that abortion isn't murder. Not that I am anti-murder by any means, I frequently celebrate and exercise our constitutional rights to end a man's life. A birthday is a complete obfuscation of ones true age. Birthdays are as real as leprechauns, Santa, and the female orgasm.
Through the marvels of science my parents had pinpointed the exact moment each of us were conceived. Each of us was then assigned our conception hour. During our conception hour, our parents would put a hiatus on their usual regimen of psychological challenges and calisthenics in order to asses whether or not our year was well spent.
Evaluations of our Strength, Perception, Endurance, Charisma, Intelligence, Agility, and Luck were made. My strength was consistently low, clocking in at a 4 out of 10. I did partially compensate for this at level 12 by selecting the "Strong Back" perk which increased my "carry weight" by 100 lbs. The low rating in strength was a constant challenge and it was not until I had obtained a set of Power Armour (which adds 3 to strength) that I was able to wield energy weapons.
Most of my early life was spent piggybacking off of my high marks in Luck and Charisma. With it I had a higher chance of critical hits, better random encounters, and things just seemed to go my way. Without luck there is no WAY I would have found the Solar Scorcher, the games most powerful weapon.
I am not sure exactly where this post was going, long story short I was born pre-maturely after a 3 day labor. In keeping with Czechoslovakian traditions I chewed through my own umbilical cord (each Lyndon to date has been born with a full set of teeth) and crawled from the birthing table to the crib ten feet away. This first test of fortitude is what every Lyndon has endured. It is more or less how I spent the first ten hours of my life.
Sunday, May 31, 2009
Friday, May 29, 2009
A Modest Request
As nine Landmark College students graduate with thier respective Associates Degrees, the collective voice of the Alumnus grows stronger, deeper, and more threatening. It used to sound like Morgan Freedman, but now its James Earl Jones. Not "Sandlot" James Earl Jones either. This is Lord of the Sith, red light saber, choke you with my mind, man in black, Darth Vader; James Earl Jones. We were ignored for 22 horrible years, and then in 2007, we were appeased by the 22nd anniversary of the founding of Landmark College. A glorious event, ask Barry Sopinski about it, I am sure he remembers it. I, Sven Lyndon, now step forward, as the booming voice of Lord Vader himself, to ask a question that has been on every alumnus's mind for the past two years:
WHEN THE F*** IS THE 24th!!???!
I'd prefer something a little nicer than Joy Wah Chinese Restaurant this year, unless that babe Lindsay Jacobellis is there again. I mean Putney, Vt is nice but spending more than the couple minutes there starts to make my cousins look good, and it makes matters even worse that all the good sheep are taken. I'm thinking private jets. Emphasis on the "S". Multiple jets. One for each alumnus, another for their date, and a third flying empty just for good measure. The jetS will take off from Burlington International Airport in Burlington, Vt (after we are shuttled there via robotic horse and carriage, not horse-less carriage, robotic horse and carriage) and then we will fly around the circumference of the globe to New York NY. Taking the scenic route as I like to say, in hell will I fly over New Hampshire or as I also like to say: "The Garbage State".
Most will touch down in New York, NY. My jet will stop in Asia and I will not be heard from for many, many years. The powers that be will have already purchased 30 Rockefeller Plaza, demolished it, and erected a ginormous ivory Landmark, the schools eponymous mascot, in its place (embellished with only the finest blood diamonds... ...and blood ivory I suppose). Each man will be given 10 sack lunches. The Landmark will then rise into the air revealing a gladiator styled pit. The pit will supply a constant feed of homeless, jobless vagrants (supplied so generously by the NY PD and our abysmal economy, thank you Barrack Hussein Obama). You will all stand around the pit, far removed from harms way, taking turns throwing lunches for the bums to fight over. As inspiration, the bums families will be not far away so they can throw a few scraps to them.
After the bums are all slaughtered by the firing squad, its back on to the jetS and off to Aspen, CO. Once in Colorado you will literally ski on mountains of powdered cocaine. That is how baller Landmark College is. All the rappers and wanna-bes like Master-P, Kanye West, and E-40 use "snow" as a word for cocaine. Street slang if you will. We will flip the G.D. tables on them and use cocaine as snow. HELL YES!
Three weeks later when we are all leaving the hospital for massive cocaine overdoses and subsequent rehabilitation, the party WILL NOT stop. At this point it CAN NOT stop. Its back on the jetS, which will no doubt still be in our possession as Boeing will have donated them to us to secure a tax break and avoid bankruptcy (thanks again economy!), and off for a friendly game of "Jet Tag". Most will die during "Jet Tag". The few survivors will crash land in Asia and wake up many years later, where I, Asia's "God-King", will rescue them. You will be rebuilt using all of Sony's technology. One exception applies to Stephen Chai, I will use Nintendo's technology and his body to build the first Wii with a soul. Implanted in everyone else's brains will be a chip where I can change their sexual orientations at a whim and the push of a button. I will not remind you of this, you have been warned. For the next 100 plus years I will rule the world Hannibal style. Attacking anything I want with elephants, some of your brains will be put into elephants as your bodies were unsalvageable and we ran out of robot stuff.
This, Landmark College, is my humble request. I put in two hardworking years, each costing $52,738, with the Landmark College and walked at graduation. A little appreciation is all I ask.
Sincerely,
Sven Lyndon AKA "The Ubersapien"
WHEN THE F*** IS THE 24th!!???!
I'd prefer something a little nicer than Joy Wah Chinese Restaurant this year, unless that babe Lindsay Jacobellis is there again. I mean Putney, Vt is nice but spending more than the couple minutes there starts to make my cousins look good, and it makes matters even worse that all the good sheep are taken. I'm thinking private jets. Emphasis on the "S". Multiple jets. One for each alumnus, another for their date, and a third flying empty just for good measure. The jetS will take off from Burlington International Airport in Burlington, Vt (after we are shuttled there via robotic horse and carriage, not horse-less carriage, robotic horse and carriage) and then we will fly around the circumference of the globe to New York NY. Taking the scenic route as I like to say, in hell will I fly over New Hampshire or as I also like to say: "The Garbage State".
Most will touch down in New York, NY. My jet will stop in Asia and I will not be heard from for many, many years. The powers that be will have already purchased 30 Rockefeller Plaza, demolished it, and erected a ginormous ivory Landmark, the schools eponymous mascot, in its place (embellished with only the finest blood diamonds... ...and blood ivory I suppose). Each man will be given 10 sack lunches. The Landmark will then rise into the air revealing a gladiator styled pit. The pit will supply a constant feed of homeless, jobless vagrants (supplied so generously by the NY PD and our abysmal economy, thank you Barrack Hussein Obama). You will all stand around the pit, far removed from harms way, taking turns throwing lunches for the bums to fight over. As inspiration, the bums families will be not far away so they can throw a few scraps to them.
After the bums are all slaughtered by the firing squad, its back on to the jetS and off to Aspen, CO. Once in Colorado you will literally ski on mountains of powdered cocaine. That is how baller Landmark College is. All the rappers and wanna-bes like Master-P, Kanye West, and E-40 use "snow" as a word for cocaine. Street slang if you will. We will flip the G.D. tables on them and use cocaine as snow. HELL YES!
Three weeks later when we are all leaving the hospital for massive cocaine overdoses and subsequent rehabilitation, the party WILL NOT stop. At this point it CAN NOT stop. Its back on the jetS, which will no doubt still be in our possession as Boeing will have donated them to us to secure a tax break and avoid bankruptcy (thanks again economy!), and off for a friendly game of "Jet Tag". Most will die during "Jet Tag". The few survivors will crash land in Asia and wake up many years later, where I, Asia's "God-King", will rescue them. You will be rebuilt using all of Sony's technology. One exception applies to Stephen Chai, I will use Nintendo's technology and his body to build the first Wii with a soul. Implanted in everyone else's brains will be a chip where I can change their sexual orientations at a whim and the push of a button. I will not remind you of this, you have been warned. For the next 100 plus years I will rule the world Hannibal style. Attacking anything I want with elephants, some of your brains will be put into elephants as your bodies were unsalvageable and we ran out of robot stuff.
This, Landmark College, is my humble request. I put in two hardworking years, each costing $52,738, with the Landmark College and walked at graduation. A little appreciation is all I ask.
Sincerely,
Sven Lyndon AKA "The Ubersapien"
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