Friday, December 25, 2009

Best of 2009

Fav Film: UP

Fav On-Going TV Show: Flashfoward

Fav TV Mini-Series: Torchwood-Children of Earth

Fav. Helene Quote: "Dad, you so silly!"

Fav. Martha Quote: "..." with raised eyebrow over beautiful blue eyes

Fav Book: The Road by Cormac McCarthy

Fav. Late Night Snack: Spoonful of Peanut Butter

Fav. On-Going Comic Series: The Walking Dead

Fav. Comic Mini-Series: Blackest Night

Fav Song: You're Ex-Lover is Dead by Star

Fav PS3 Game: Uncharted 2

Fav PSP Game: Final Fantasy Dissidia

Fav DS Game: Retro Game Challenge

Fav PC Game: Captain Forever

Fav Ipod Touch App: Spider

Fav. Thing to Watch at 5AM: The Prisoner (1960)

Fav Family Event: NC trip in the summer

Fav Tech Development: The Dawn of the Net-Lets (netbooks meet tablets)

Fav Starbucks: 49th street and 16th in Hialeah

Fav Online Troup: Mega64

Fav Podcast: Tie - 1UP Yours and Rebel FM

Fav Late-to-the-Party Moment: Discovering how great Fallout 3 is...

Fav Tea: White Pear by rEvolution

Fav. Coffee: Peppermint White Chocolate Mocha

Fav. Socks: Beige Dress Socks

Wednesday, December 2, 2009

Seven Stages of Man according to Shakespeare

All the world's a stage,
And all the men and women merely players,
They have their exits and entrances,
And one man in his time plays many parts,
His acts being seven ages.

At first the infant,
Mewling and puking in the nurse's arms.

Then, the whining schoolboy with his satchel
And shining morning face, creeping like snail
Unwillingly to school.

And then the lover,
Sighing like furnace, with a woeful ballad
Made to his mistress' eyebrow.

Then a soldier,
Full of strange oaths, and bearded like the pard,
Jealous in honour, sudden, and quick in quarrel,
Seeking the bubble reputation
Even in the cannon's mouth.

And then the justice
In fair round belly, with good capon lin'd,
With eyes severe, and beard of formal cut,
Full of wise saws, and modern instances,
And so he plays his part.

The sixth age shifts
Into the lean and slipper'd pantaloon,
With spectacles on nose, and pouch on side,
His youthful hose well sav'd, a world too wide,
For his shrunk shank, and his big manly voice,
Turning again towards childish treble, pipes
And whistles in his sound.

Last scene of all,
That ends this strange eventful history,
Is second childishness and mere oblivion,
Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything.