Wednesday, November 07, 2007
The Mighty Sampson
My old friend Allan Sampson was in town for a few days in late September and early October. Allan's currently living and working in the US, enjoying the climate and the opportunities there. We had a chance to chat about old times, politics, movies and trends in technology and culture...it's always good to touch base in person with the people you've grown close to. Having friends in the US, Europe and spread across Canada makes it tough to stay connected sometimes, which means that I'm going to have to bite the bullet soon and do some extraprovincial visiting.
Here's one of my favourite Allan stories. I was over at his place, and for some reason - probably unquenchable ennui - Allan stuck a suction-cup dart right to the middle of his forehead and left it there for a couple of minutes. It looked ridiculous, and naturally I had a laughing fit. Things got even worse when Allan pulled the dart free; there was a cartoonish pop, and the dart left behind a perfectly circular welt. Unfortunately I didn't have the presence of mind to take a picture while all this was happening, and no matter how much I pleaded, a disgusted Allan refused to reenact the scenario for posterity. Too bad - I could have posted photographic proof to supplement this little story.
Posted by Earl J. Woods at 10:15 pm
Labels: Allan, The Earliad
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As if it's not perfectly clear from the look on Sylvia's face, I am not wearing pants.
I think it's very funny that Earl posted the title "The Mighty Sampson" about a guy who has no hair. Very sneaky-funny, Earl.
Allan With No Pants seems to be a common enough theme. I remember one time that he refused to get dressed and unapologetically answered the door to to the Bleak House Of Blahs (BHOB) wearing a grey towel that may have been from a hotel and some maroon fuzzy slippers wherein the fuzz had moulted off.
That image seared into my mind, when I decided to model the BHOB in The Sims game, I naturally gave Earl a Star Trek shirt, Ron a red bag-boy vest, Carrie some sleek spandex, and Allan stomped about wrapped in the grey towel and red flippy-flops.
To succeed in The Sims, you have to learn how to create the most efficient routine for your characters. The BHOB was never designed for efficiency. I admit that I resisted the urge to buy very many sim-products other than the baseline essentials that would have made the sim-occupants of the BHOB happier. Still, I clearly remember the incident where Sim Carrie blithely broke the upstairs toilet and left the house, just as Sim Ron and Sim Allan came home from work, utterly exhausted. Sim Ron complains that he his too tired to move and despite my efforts to help him find his bed, he passes out cold directly in front of the door of the decrepit yet functional downstairs bathroom.
Sim Allan, on the other hand, despite being blasted with fatigue, has a more urgent biological imperative. He senses that the upstairs toilet is incapactitated, but cannot fathom why Sim Ron would block the door to the other toilet with his unconscious body. Finally, Sim Allan flings himself into a spastic little samba, a sort of a rain dance if you will, with the the culmination being the eruption of his bladder and a nasty mess in the hallway.
Sim Allan sobs with embarrasment, Sim Ron snores and slumbers on the floor right next to the puddle, and Sim Earl arrives on the scene to cackle hysterically.
Art does not quite imitate life, but it sure does go a long way to explain the BHOB.
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