Mr. Pleasington's page

I don't know man, I think this is one of the creepier monsters out there. Having some dead-eyed little freak clamoring up your helpless body to pull out your teeth, leaning in to whisper in a high pitched voice, "Is it safe?" is downright disturbing to me. And if he has a couple of giggling friends tugging on your fingernails with pliers while you can't do a thing about it? Yeah.

Timothy Dalton was the best Bond.

I'd burn all my RPG books and paraphernalia in a heartbeat if it got me one day with a knee and hip functional enough to play hockey and football again.

Whenever Dune is on I have to watch it. All of it.

The Lynch version? "My name is a killing word!" Or the newer version?

The Lynch one. It's like watching a slow motion, surreal car crash. Whenever I think, "OK time to change the channel," Sting walks out in leather underroos or someone is milking Mr. Bigglesworth and suddenly I can't help but watch.

Mr. Pleasington wrote:

Whenever Dune is on I have to watch it. All of it.

I hold a glimmering taper of hope that someday within my lifetime, Dune will get the good directing, talented actors, and high production values it deserves.

Because anyone who's ever read Dune will know that it's made for the big screen!

There's a book? ;)

I really liked the movie Willow.

I've only ever called into work sick once and I wasn't really sick. Errol Flynn's Robin Hood was on followed by the Last Starfighter and I was out of vacation days.

Whenever Dune is on I have to watch it. All of it.

I bawl like a baby whenever I hear Puff the Magic Dragon.

I own a guinea pig named Corpsegrinder. I had hoped naming it Corpsegrinder would make it a less lame animal to own, but no, it's still pretty lame.

I think The Last Dragon is the pinnacle of American cinema, which should rightfully invalidate all my views on any form of entertainment.

In a survival situation my only use would be as a source of protein for the people that actually have applicable skills.

Anyone who makes more than three threads complaining about how underpowered monks are should vanish into the night, drug off to the Paizo Friendship Gulag.

I believe that people that complain about balance in a game of make believe with flying flambé lizards and sentient psychic jellyfish must have had a very sad, puzzling childhood.

Anyone that uses the term nerf in any context outside of a device that flings foam darts should be punched in the liver.

The amount of grief Sean K Reynolds gets is obscene and annoying, especially since 90% of it is basically people expecting Paizo to release personalized rules catering to their every whim and demand.

Anime, with a few exceptions, makes my head hurt. And if someone has a cutesy anime name or avatar for their profile I can safely assume I’m probably not going to agree with them on anything other than perhaps in what direction the sun sets. This also applies to My Little Pony when you aren't a six year old girl.

The first Matrix movie was like being cornered by a stoner freshman at a party that just took their first Philosophy class and feels the need to babble their new insights to you.

Firefly is the cure for insomnia.

The Phantom Menace was the best of the new Star Wars movies simply because I didn’t have to watch the most contrived chemistry-less relationship ever filmed.

Star Trek is mind numbing.

Every single Star Wars movie is a 90 minute toy commercial.

I can’t stand Dr. Who and want to ram a sonic screwdriver into my eyeball whenever someone tries to talk to me about it.

Anyone that wanders around with a top hat and isn’t in a tuxedo should be mocked. Relentlessly.

Owning more dice than you can conveniently carry means you’re one step from being on Hoarders.

Pearl Jam is better than the Beatles.

I like reading Gorbacz mocking people.

The fact I have friends is a mystery.

In third grade, I cheated on my history exam. In fourth grade, I stole my uncle Max's toupee and I glued it on my face when I was Moses in my Hebrew School play. In fifth grade, I knocked my sister Edie down the stairs and I blamed it on the dog. When my mom sent me to the summer camp for fat kids and then they served lunch I got nuts and I pigged out and they kicked me out.

But the worst thing I ever done; I mixed a pot of fake puke at home and then I went to this movie theater, hid the puke in my jacket, climbed up to the balcony and then I made a noise like this: hua-hua-hua-huaaaaaaa - and then I dumped it over the side, all over the people in the audience. And then, this was horrible, all the people started getting sick and throwing up all over each other. I never felt so bad in my entire life.

Man am I tickled to see the Nightgaunt. Great looking stuff!

A Choir of Ill Children by Tom Piccirilli. It's easily one of the creepiest, skin crawling, darkly beautiful books I've ever read. Well worth tracking down.

We've tried, but our group's operate on different schedules, so we're forever destined to be two ships passing in the night. Plus Eric seems like a really nice guy and I wouldn't want him to have to deal with the screaming Visgoths that I play with.