Like an Unstoppable Wolverine

It's not often that one finds oneself sprinting down a darkened street in the middle of several miniature tornadoes of snow at 1A.M. I, however, did find myself doing just such a thing not but a few minutes ago. It started with my dad walking in from the yard at around midnight and commenting on the raging storm outside. I had not heard anything of the storm as of yet, and so thought it was just a normal old snow, or something of the sort. I decided to go and have a look sometime soon, but was soon wrapped back into the computer and it's addictions. Eventually, at about 12:45, I dragged myself from the chair and shuffled to the door. I unenthusiastically twisted the knob and pulled it open. What I beheld was a true spectacle. Trees writhed in the wind, while bestial clouds of snow stalked through the streets. The wind picked up anything in it's path and threw it aside without effort. Snow blew eerily like flowing water in the light of the street lamps. All I really saw at that moment however was lots of wind and snow. This of course made me quickly grab my coat and boots (though not gloves) and run outside. Nothing of event really happened, besides huge gusts of wind nearly lifting me from my feet as I stood in rapture in the middle of the street, cackling with mad delight at the miracle that is the weather. Then, however, as I was standing there, I looked down the street for another gust of wind coming. What I saw however was what appeared to be a wall of solid snow gliding down the street deceptively slowly. I squinted at it now quite believing my eyes. Then it hit me. Shards of ice bit into the flesh of my face and hands, but I was determined not to give in. The onslaught probably only lasted about ten seconds, but it felt like an eternity. When it passed I followed the drifting remains of floating snow it had left behind down the street. After that I ran up to an extremely exposed area of ground. It was at the top of a hill that lead to the sidewalk along a main street in my town. The wind up there was so strong that when I jumped, I was blown backwards down the hill. After all these adventures I went inside and partook in a particularly delicious cinnamon toast and cocoa.
So that concludes my story of tonight, and the massive snow storm. I'm looking forward to possible sledding and/or loafing around tomorrow.

Curse You 343 Guilty Spark!

Ack. I feel dead today. It might have something to do with the 3 hours of crackball (a variant of dodgeball) I played yesterday, and the snowball fight....and the mere 7 hours of sleep I got. Oh well, it was worth it I suppose. Ah yes, I haven't explain the barbaric ritual of crackball yet have I? Well I shall.
Crackball at my school is rather like a religion. Skipping playing it in our minuscule gym at lunch is a bit like blasphemy. It's essentially dodgeball with a few minor variations. The goal is the same though: hit people with the ball. Whenever we play I can just imagine some aliens spying on us for a sort of national geographic documentary of humans. "Here we find a group of the creatures partaking in what appears to be some sort of barbaric religious function. Possibly a sacrifice."
Crackball isn't quite as barbaric as all that though. We've refined throwing a plain red ball with all of our force to an art. Dodging and catching too. Tricky spin moves, jumping off of the waist-high trim around the edges of the gym, diving behind people and catching the ball while horizontal in midair, it ends up looking rather like something out of the matrix.
The other day our rapist/crack addict PE teacher let us play in class a little bit. He decided to join in too. I should add before I continue with this story that it is the goal of my friend Zach and I to be absolute spazzes during class cause it's our last year at the school and we hate the teacher. We have been sent out of class and all that stuff several times and gotten the "I need more respect" lecture about 20 times. So far, our mission is a success! But back to the story. So the teacher decided to join the game, and he obviously hates the heck out of me. So he wings the ball as forcefully as he can straight at my upper chest/neck. It's a direct hit, with a massive TWACK noise I feel the ball literally bend around my torso, then shoot off into space. "HOLY CRAP DUDE!" yells my friend drew, "that sounded like a frickin' CANNONBALL!" After about half an hour I discovered a huge red mark all across my torso. Good times, good times...good times to get revenge that is. Muahaha.
Onto a different topic...I beat the Halo campaign yesterday. Woot. Now I'm going back through and trying to beat it on legendary. By the nine divines (random gamer geek joke) is it hard to beat! The strategy involved is quite engaging however.
I have nothing left to say really so I'll upload a doodle I made with the Artrage 2.5 demo. That program rocks.

HA! Take That You Sick Flood Bastard Child of Science and Satan!

This week I went back to school after a shortened holiday break. It was undoubtedly one of the worst experiences I've been forced to endure in the last month or so...It's also why I haven't updated in several days, too busy with schoolwork and the like. Ugh. School is evil. Well, Halo came today in the mail. I enjoyed a few hours of absolute mayhem and violence after getting home from school. I'm playing through the campaign at the moment on normal, then I'll go back through on heroic and legendary, woot. In other random news here's a doodle I made a while ago and still haven't uploaded as of yet.

It's sort of based on all those cool desert drawing in Calvin and Hobbes, for the spaceman spiff stuff. I like the way it turned out actually, one of my better creations in a while.
With the resuming of school, I have also resumed Mathcounts, a sort of math competition for middle schools held nationwide. It's extracurricular so it's afterschool. Yes, I am willingly devoting my time to doing math after school when I could be having fun...I know I'm insane. It's not easy either....we have to do extra homework and the like for it too. It's not exactly that I want to do it...it's more the glare of death our almost 70 year old danish math teacher gives me if I even suggest not doing it. She scares me sometimes...