August 22, 2009
Beth bought CJ a blue tooth devise for his PS3 last night. Remember when a blue tooth was what the weird old man at the creepy house down the street had since he didn't have a good dental plan? My friend had an Atari (I never had a game system, not even the handheld football one with the little blips that you could try to make go across the screen for a touchdown), and he never had a blue tooth phone thingy with his system. I think those invaders from space were going to drop out of the sky whether you were talking to them or not.
Anyway, all of a sudden there is a lot of talking coming from my basement and CJ is alone down there. As it turns out, he is also rather bossy. It is a zombie killing game and there is direction to be given (apparently) for what weapon to get, where to take a stand, and what door to open. However, when CJ did not have a blue tooth, he was always annoyed with the dudes that did, as he was not keen on taking their advice. All of a sudden he is SGT. Hulka, the leader of the toes. I can't help but picture some Proctor and Gamble CEO who got on line this morning for some relaxing Nazi Zombies, only to be spoken to like he was 6 years old being told where to go and what window to watch.
Then again, maybe it's like those CEOs who dress up in a diaper and have some mistress spank them on their day off to relieve the stresses of the job. I watch a lot of CSI, by the way.
So I have gotten Mr. Bossy Pants upstairs to get ready for soccer, so I better go to.
Until he tells me what route is best to get to soccer on time (and subsequently walks the rest of the way)...