Tuesday, June 30, 2009

Skill? What skill?

I can chump down a cheeseburger like it's nobody's business. I'm the Allen Iverson of cheeseburgers. Still, I don't go around flaunting my mad cheeseburger eating skillz. It's not because I'm humble and modest; it's because there's no skill to be discussed. You just take it and eat it.

Skill is an equally unfitting term for anything in PvE. What skill? The skill to take three steps to the side when the bright huge-ass fissure spawns at the exact time it said it was going to spawn? Oooooh, that's crazy leet. I bet your cheeseburger eating skillz are legit too.

With respect to PvE, I don't like the term skill because it implies that something special is required to be a good raider.

I'm certainly not trying to enlighten anyone here with the things you already knew, but I think by skill, we really mean these things...

Willingness to Fail until the Task is Committed to Our Muscle Memory

I remember doing the flying mouth-stabbing quest for the first time. After I died twice, I was pissed. I took my shirt off—this puts me in the hero mode—and got up from the seat. I started the quest again standing up, shirt off and 100% focused. Let’s DO THIS! … I died again.

Today, that wyrm can’t even touch me. I think I might try doing the quest with my toes just so I can say I can do it with my toes.

I also remember jousting the Scourge Commander for the first time. He skooled me so fast, I found myself instantly dismounted and running back to the camp flopping my arms HALP! HALP!

Today, I run circles around that guy. I dazzle him with my insane Allen Iverson cross-overs and amaze him to death. My stutter steps are so sick I fake myself out sometimes.

Yogg felt like an impassable brick wall at the first encounter. Today, without a bit of exaggeration, I think the Torch Catching quest is more difficult than Yogg. I keep chasing after other people’s torch. This level 12 orc yelled at me because he thought I was being a jerk. I just went along with it because I’d rather be a misunderstood jerk than a nub chasing after someone else’s hopes & dreams.


Even after forty fails, some people still die to the wrong charge on Thaddius. If you run into the wrong charge because instead of repeating to yourself car battery car battery car battery positive right negative left car battery, you're studying the raid composition to see who'd roll against your t7 leg, you're not an unskilled player; you're just a irresponsible asshole.

These people should not only be ineligible to receive any loots, but also have their driver license revoked. If you can't execute <== - Thad + ==> after twenty attempts, you should not be allowed to drive 75 mph on highways. They certainly shouldn't be allowed to practice medicine or surgery. They be cutting off wrong limb and stuff. oops, wrong leg, tee hee hee.

Three years ago, this nub surgeon left a sponge in my stomach after an appendectomy. It doesn't hurt or anything, but I'm thirsty all the time... that asshole.

My attention span lies somewhere between that of goldfish and a watermelon. My girl got really mad at me because I ran after a shiny like Jaloot in the middle of our relationship talk. We are fast diggers! I can dig really fast! See?.... If you're like me, then take your shirt off and stand up so you can focus proactively.

Honest Hard Work

The reason I love raiding so much is that it gives honest feedback for hard work. It takes me longer than most people to get up that learning curve, but I can make up the short-fall with hard work.

Coming into WotLK, I dropped mining/eng to pick up BS/JC. It's not because I wanted that JC-only belly button ring so I can inscribe Jong & Thrall BFF on it and wear it with my midriff tops. It's because BS/JC was the combo that renders the highest ret pally dps output.

You look at my character sheet, and there's not an ounce of extra dps you can squeeze out, because I sat there and milked everything I could get. You might get another brush out of your completely flat & rolled-up toothpaste tube, but you're getting nothing out of me.

Gevlon and I disagree on this min-maxing philosophy. He writes very insightful, well thought-out posts on gold making. I wish he'd stick to his gig, because when he gets out of his element and starts talking about raiding philosophy, he sounds stupid.

Gevlon: Do extra sockets really make a difference? Good enough is good enough.

/target Gevlon's nuts
/cast Swift Kick
/yell You're out of your element. Go back to your corner and make frostweave bags.

The best enchants, gems, and consumables mean a lot more than negligible extra Attack Power. It carries priceless intangible message that says, hey teammates, I respect your time and efforts, so I'm bringing everything I got.

We can't have Ensidia raiders' gears, but we can have the same enchants, gems, and flasks as those guys.

Friday, June 26, 2009

Romance of the Three Kingdoms: Zhang Fei

I’d like to dedicate this post to Razor, a strategist extraordinaire and a vibrant leader of the most awesome guild on the guild land.

Dear Razor

I had been one of your best raiders. Still, if you asked me to sit outside Ulduar and draw unicorns on my penis while the rest of the guild was having a blast getting cool achievements, I would have done exactly like you had told me without a question. I trust you that much.

Did you ever know that you were my hero and the wind beneath my wings?


Long live the mighty Weight Watchers 2007-2009

Romance of the Three Kingdoms, a 14th century Chinese historical novel, is by far the most widely read literature of all time across China, Japan, and Korea.

The novel, based on events during the turbulent years of the Three Kingdom era of China, has countless number of secondary stories that are referenced time and again in modern business school text books and fathers’ life’s lesson stories to sons.

Here's a story from the novel I'd like to share with you:

Liu Bei, a determined young man and a latter-day emperor of one of the Three Kingdoms, is about to set forth on a long journey to find people he can trust and work with.

His mother offers him the [Legendary Sword of Blazing Pimp Mojo], a priceless family heirloom.

“Son, use this sword wisely. Deliver this nation out of confusion and chaos.”

Several months later, Liu Bei returned home without the sword.

“Welcome home son, but where is the sword?”

“I gave it to a man I met.”

“OMG you failsauce! Do you know how much that sword is worth?”

“Yes mother, but the man I met was worth more than thousand legendary swords. I wanted to work with him and offered the sword to him as a token of my recognition and respect.”

The man Liu Bei is referring to is Zhang Fei, a belligerent drunk wreaking havoc in town pubs, who eventually swears allegiance to Liu Bei with his blood and becomes one of the five greatest generals of the era.

Everyone feared and hated Zhang Fei. Liu Bei was the only one who recognized his potential and brought out the best in him.

I started raiding with Weight Watchers at the beginning of WotLK. I was the nervous new guy from a small family guild trying to fit into the big boy’s league. Razor was the GM of one of the most well-respected guild on the server.

It had been only a month into the expansion and everyone was still racing to clear the four wings of Naxx.

40 minutes to raid time. I was hungry, so I fixed me a good looking sandwich and stuffed my face in 5 minutes. I get sleepy when I’m full…plus the week’s schedule has been pretty intense… I’ll take a quick nap before the raid.

I woke up 3 hours later with the sandwich platter still on my lap and potato chips strewn all over the couch. I quickly log back in and send a quick tell to Razor to apologize. He laughs. Then he linked me Zeliek’s Guantlets, the best BoE plate dps gloves available at the time.

“Do you want it?”

“It’s really nice, but I don’t deserve it.”

A few minutes later, Razor ran over to me, opened trade, and gave me the gloves. It was already gemmed AND enchanted.

“Take it man. It’s yours.”

Razor made an emotional investment into a silly small-town ret pally no one cared about… that scrub ret pally swore allegiance to him and later became the illest plate dps in all Northrend.

We'll miss you razor. Thanks for all the hard work you put into the guild's success.

Wednesday, June 24, 2009

the time i went to jump school

I was part of University of Virginia’s Army ROTC for two years.

Summer of 96. They chose me as one of the four cadets to represent the mighty Cavalier Battalion at the U.S. Army Airborne School in Fort Benning, GA. I was bored of casual ROTC picnics and FIRED UP to see some real action.

We were to address the instructors as Sergeant Airborne. You wanna talk about elitism? These guys are the best. A trainee had his foot rested on a chair at the dining hall. One of the Sergeant Airborne dropped his sandwich, hopped over a few tables, got right up on the trainee’s face, and yelled, “Get your DIRTY NASTY LEG off my Airborne Furniture!

As soon as we arrived at the jump school, we had a shake-down session. We were to form a single-file line, open our duffle bags, turn it upside down, and shake it until the entire content was strewn at our feet. Sergeant Airbornes were going around confiscating CD players, boobie magazines, and all other unauthorized personal belongings.

The guy standing next to me had a baseball glove. The scary-ass Sergeant Airborne stepped up to the point where the tip of his nose was touching the tip of the scrub’s nose. “Do you think this is a plaaaaay grouuuuund? Do you wanna plaaaaaay wif me?”

The scrub was shittin down his leg and I hurt my diaphragm trying not to laugh. What a silly nub. Who brings a baseball glove to the most prestigious jump school in the world?

My turn.

The Sergeant Airborne was casually kicking through my belongings as if he was a zoo veterinarian inspecting elephant poo… and there it was... Herbal Essence Strawberry Shampoo. Neon red liquid gel contained in a clear 24-oz bottle. Apparently, my mom didn’t think regular ivory soap was good enough for her loving son’s freshly shaved head. She wanted to ensure my joyous moments of revitalization where ever I went.

The Sergeant Airborne picked up the bottle and started calling every other Sergeant Airbornes over to him. "Hey! Fields! Sullivan! Come here! You gotta check this out!”

It was really embarrassing and kinda hurtful.

Tuesday, June 16, 2009

My Dumbo's Feather

I’d like to dedicate this post to my good friends and brothers in 2h axe, Ody and Musta.

Ody, you are the illest dk on the dk land and the Eternal Champion of Unapologetic Leet’ness. You’ve upheld the highest standards of raiding etiquettes, and… I don’t care if you call me a girl and punch me in the neck… you had me at hello and you complete me.

Musta, you’ve inspired me to roll a fury warrior. I wanna be the dwarf version of you. The other day, I looked up What is love? Is there life after death? What’s a fury warrior? in the Collegiate Encyclopedia of Philosophy. It said, "armory musta"… your DPS is in fact the answer to all my confusion and life’s uncertainty. You are the dopest warrior there never was.

Although we have nothing in common besides our commitment to Intensity & Pride, I consider both of you my friends. We were the Trinity of Crazy Leet Plate DPS and we got more scourge minion groupies than Jonas Brothers. It’s been an absolute honor running with you and I’ll miss you very much.

Long live the mighty Weight Watchers (2007-2009)



As you know, I exclusively use the most modest choice of words to describe myself. I probably come across as an overly humble and reserved guy.

Contrary to your perception, I have a gigantic ego. In fact, my ego is so big that I started developing a set of secondary egos to provide administrative and logistical support for my primary ego.

Some people dominate without ego or flamboyant smack.

"Speak softly and carry a big stick."—Teddy Roosevelt

George Saint-Pierre is one of many admirable individuals who proved that humility and greatness can coexist. He is one of my favorite fighters of all time who single-handedly reversed the disgrace Jean Claude Van Damme inflicted upon the reputations of every country and culture related to France.

All the scrubs dueling infront of Orgrimmar always says something like this after losing:

“You got lucky. My HoJ cooldown was half second away.”

Have you ever heard GSP’s post-fight interview after a losing match?

“He out-played me. He landed a solid hook and I lost my balance.”

/sigh… Van Damme, if you haven’t already, send GSP a coffe maker or a toaster with a nice thank-you letter. Tell him, "Dear George, Thank you for un-doing my disgrace", because, If it weren’t for GSP, I would still believe that all French descendants are girls who aspire to obtain black belt in modern ballet so they can flex their glistening buttocks right into the camera for no apparent contribution to the movie’s plot what so ever.

Some people put out the most unapologetic ego and back it up with greatness.

“I am the greatest, I said that even before I knew I was.”—Muhammad Ali

Ray Lewis will tell you, right in your face, that he is the most dominating player in the league. You might get all worked-up and be annoyed by his ego, but you really can’t tell him no, be quiet, sit down, or nothing like that, because he actually does the crazy things he’ll do to you.

Boxing experts will tell you that Muhammad Ali wasn’t the greatest of his time. I believe he’s the greatest of all time, because, well, … he kept telling me over and over and I just started believing it.

What’s your style of greatness? No Talk All Execution or Big Talks Backed-up by Greatness?

My style is the latter. The key difference between Muhammad Ali and me is that I can’t back up my talk and end up looking really stupid lots of times.

I plugged in [+16 Ego] and [+16 Self-delusion] into Rawr 3.1 Ret Pally DPS module. Surprisingly, neither stat had any bearing on ret pally dps output. ZERO. So, technically, ego has nothing to do with greatness. Still, Ego is my Dumbo’s Feather—it doesn’t increase my Crusader Strike damage, but it gives me the confidence to fly… and if I can’t fly I’d look stupid with an email address supaflyretpally@gmail.com

You know how your dps starts getting into pointless recount pissing match no one cares about? You’d tell them, “focus!” or “be quiet no one cares!” You’d be annoyed, but at least you’d have words for their scrubby display of ego.

If you heard me, ody, and musta getting into an ego douchebaggery show down, you would just go, omg no comment… You would be speechless, standing there dumbfounded completely without words. We’re ridiculous.

Musta: I am the fury warrior of fury! I dual-wield rogues. I dual-wield rogues while they’re flopping around spamming Fan of Knives!

Jong: fu asshole. You’re full of shit.

Ody: NO U

Jong: My dps is like the Sun—it nourishes and provides for all. It’s got vitamin D and helps plants grow and stuff.

Ody: stfu. I am the Astronaut of Plate DPS. You two are just commercial jet pilots.

Musta: roflmao. FU

Jong: NO U

Monday, June 15, 2009

Jong-Tsu Art of DPS, Chronicle II: Know Your Sugarmommas

One of the reasons I have been able to climb the corporate ladder so fast sporting bling bling cufflinks is my keen ability to identify my sugarmommas and being nice to them.

Take Sunil, the head of IT Support. Sunil is an Indian. Not ah bah bah bah bah Florida State Seminoles Indian, but 7-11 thank you come again Indian. He is an uber nerd that other nerds look at and go, amg look at that nerd. He lacks social graces and can’t speak English good. His vocabulary probably spans wider than yours and mine combined; he just can’t pronounce things.

No one from the business group hangs out with Sunil. Everyone treats him like a nerdy Argent Squire who runs around with a backpack full of tools and baguettes fixing things on their demand.

I’m the only one who makes sincere efforts to befriend Sunil. I’ll ask how his weekend was and listen to… oh gawd… the other day, I told him I tried Aloo Gobi at Indian Palace and that struck up a 20-minute conversation with him going off on 13 variations of exotic spices required to make the dish the right way. At times, I really want to swap out my 2h weapon for Merriam-Webster Dictionary and smack a Judgment of Enunciation across his face, but I’ll sit there and listen to whatever he wants to talk about. I’ll even joke with him: “Sunil, if I were an Indian, my pick-up line would be, Baby, I am so bomb, I put the bomb in Bombay, India.”

Anyhow, this is what I’m getting to.

When the jerkface who treats Sunil like an NPC has his computer nubbing out on him, he has to go to the intranet to fill out a long helpdesk request form. A scrubby intern might take a peek at the request and get back to him by tomorrow morning. He is fucked for the rest of the day. When my stuff starts blipping in unfamiliar ways, I just call Sunil directly. He’ll be at my desk all out of breath with pieces of basmati rice stuck on his face. He will actually drop his lunch to tend to my trivial needs. Do you know how awesome that is?

Let me dovetail the story into Jong-Tsu Art of DPS, Chronicle II.

Healers are your sugarmommas. They’re your doctors. I’m not talking about some pussy dentists who sit in air-conditioned offices all day. They are Airborne Ranger Combat Medics who are all up in the frontline crossfire with you. They’re applying a 4-point tourniquet to your leg while giving CPR to the fading warlock next to you with bombs exploding all over the place. Give them the proper respect they deserve. AR EE ES PEE PEE CEE TEE find out what it means to me.

Don’t link the damage meter. No one cares. Link the healing meter after an intense fight and throw out empty fluffy compliments. Don’t just say, “nice heals”. FLUFF IT UP. Say “holy sweet jeebus! how is that even possible?!?” or “OMG them chain heals were CLUTCH”. As of 3.1 giving out compliments cost no gold. I just checked the realm patch notes and it’s still going to cost no gold in 3.2.

I’m not here to defend healers by any means. I’m here to look out for you. You ever heard of the Healing Priority List? It exists, oh yes it does.

The list generally goes like this: 1) MT; 2) OT; 3) The dopest dps in the raid (that’s me)… 23) Hunter’s Cat; 24) Baby Blizzard Bear; and 25) self-delusional dps who yells l2 heal me.

Let’s say two equally dope dps are in identical trouble. If you were a healer, which would you save first?

A) The douchebag who habitually throws out condescending remarks

B) The charming charismatic ret pally who calls you the Tom Brady of HoTs

You catch my drift?

I'll leave you with an anecdote from the Felmyst fight. The raid instructions were: 1) stay away from the green beam; and 2) let the pally tank aggro the skeleton spwns first.

I did the exact opposite of that and got myself into a real big trouble. I was throughly convinced I was dead. I put my mouse down and was walking away to make a sammich... then there it was... priest touchy-feely bubble! Holy Light, Holy Light, Rejuvenate, GREATER HEAL!!! 30K+ overheal went off on me within 2 seconds.

I didn't die and I finished the fight with real good dps. The end.

Sunday, June 14, 2009

The class I don't want to be in real life

The numbers post isn't happening. I hated writing it. I know my numbers, so I'm good to go. If ret pallies who come here don't know they numbers, I don't care. I love me, and since they're not me, I don't care.

Lesson learned: stay within your element, especially if you're an elemental shaman.

I called my dad today and got owned.

Dad: Hello

Me: ZOMG Happy Father's Day dad! Sorry, I didn't have time to get you anyth...

Dad: Next week nub. Oh, and look at that! You have a whoooole week to plan out a thoughtful and expensive gift for me! /click

If you could inherit talents and skills of any wow class... not in a fantasy world, but right now, in 2009, where you are still you going through everyday stuff, which class would you choose?

I'd never pick hunter. I've watched Discovery channel covers on Marine snipers that can shoot a hole through a dime from 1 mile away. My stupid hunter can't shoot a fuckin dragon that's big as my house from 50 yards out. Too far away. Dude, it's RIGHT. THERE.

Track Humanoids... A-ha! I can pwn my nieces in hide-and-seek now!... oh wait, I can already do that.

The only way I'd choose hunter is if the city ordinance allows for walking around the neighborhood with my pet polar bear. I'd take my bear to the dog park and pick up all the chicks-- awww what's his name? Since I'm not allowed to have a polar bear in my condo, my animal commanding abilities are only good for being that gator control dudes down in Florida. I don't wanna be those guys cause I make way more money than they do.

Friday, June 12, 2009

planning new topics

The overwhelming majority of the blog’s interest group is represented by Mages. I find the fact that mages can find common grounds with me interesting. The only thing I know about mage is…well, I have a lvl 1 alliance human mage bank toon. I named her Bartiromo after the CNBC anchor I had a huge crush on until she appeared on celebrity Jeopardy and I found out how dumb she is. I like attractive smart girls. Unfortunately attractive smart girls don’t feel the same way about me. Anyhow, I have two spells on my action bar. One button looks like an ice cube. I don’t know what it does, but when I click it, I get an awesome ice cube animation over my head. The other button looks like a fireball. I used it to one-shot any rabbit or chicken that stood in my way when I was running from Northshire to Stormwind auction house.

I also get a lot of customers (customers?) from the Healing group. This is also interesting because the only thing I know about healing is that it’s really stressful. I have a full set of ubber holy gears… which I stack up like Lego blocks to build castles and stuff when I’m bored. Situational awareness is a fascinating concept to me. When the ready check goes duh-nah-nah, everything around me fades away and all I see is white flash of fury. I don’t know what anyone else is doing, and I don’t really care. Compensating for other’s shot-fall is also a fascinating concept to me. When my arms warrior buddy is pushing the threat too close and calls for Hand of Salvation, I just feign ignorance—huh?—because I’m not burning my precious GCD so he can dps more. If your agro is high, just stop dps so I can look good. When kologarn stone grips my dk buddy, I don’t activate Divine Sacrifice + Bubble because that takes away whopping 3 seconds of my precious GCD. Plus, if he dies, I’ll look really good on recount… I once tried sneaking in Rank 1 BoM for warrior/dk and the max rank BoM for me. They called me out, and again, I feigned ignorance—huh?

Now, the concerning trend—and the real point of this entry— is that the ret pally community at large thinks I’m an idiot and couldn’t care less about whatever I have to say. If you came here looking for ret pally facts & numbers, you got nothing. I perused through all my posts and they’re all useless. Some are particularly more pointless than the others, but they all are useless. I'm gonna do something to address this, because the founding mission statement of Forbearance blog is...

To provide a sanctuary of classiness and pristine elegance for raiding retribution paladins with scholarly endeavors toward dishing out crazy leet dps.

Going forward, every other week or so, I'll be posting write ups on ret pally numbers. I hope they will be as interesting, astute, and elegant as all my writings.

Have a nice weekend.

Tuesday, June 9, 2009

BloodKnight Unified Code of Conduct

EDIT: Today, for the first time, I tried writing response to commenters’ comments… instead of, you know, writing flattering comments to myself.
Male belf pallies have an unspoken Unified Code of Conduct. Irrespective of the intent, we are to never ever stand next to each other. I tried really hard, and I honestly can't think of a sight more annoying than this.
DBM is great. I type /range 10 and it tells me whenever something encroaches upon the specified radius of the comfort zone. If I see a flashing pink, I just pick a direction and start running. I ask no questions. I just run.

The UCC further states that no two male belfs should ever be talking to each other using the /say chat function. There is no such thing as "a useful conversaion between two male belfs"--certainly nothing worthy of occupying even a single line on the limited chat frame space of the people around us.

My buddy Allidoisheal is a paladin. I can't remember what spec he is, but he's a belf palaidin like me. He ran over and stood next to me specifically to demonstrate our stunning similarity and combined douche-baggery. The really sad part is, he wasn't trying to be funny when he told me he changed his hair to match his gear. He was actually attempting to make a conversation and was seeking my input on his newly frosted hair tip.

We had many new recruits in the guild this week, which means all our dps is getting into recount pissing matches to establish alpha male baboon status from the get-go. I'm not scared of pissing matches. In fact, I have participated in real life pissing matches and you better not step up to me unless you're packing a bladder the size of a camel bladder and have complete disregard for your reputation. Don't ever stoop down to my level. I have ZERO qualms about making a huge tool out of myself over pointless stuff no one cares about.

The raid leader told us to put away the recount ffs. Are you kidding me? The damage meter is 45% of my screen. Atlas loot covers another 20%. Remember, it's not about winning as a team. It's all about hey, did I look good? and secondly, hey, I wonder what this guy drops... I have hard time seeing bad stuff spawning on the floor.

With that said, ret pallies, Kologarn is still OUR house. Do we let anybody just walk into our house, eat all our food out of the refrigerator and step all over our luxurious carpet with their dirty shoes? No, because it's our house.


Bonus topic: Superfluous Adjectives

"By all means say an economic crisis or a military disaster, but think well before saying an acute crisis or a terrible disaster."
--Philip Atkinson

I present you Putrid Pirate Perspiration from the Zul'drak timed dailies I keep messing up because I get side-tracked so much.

I don't think Blizzard qualified a bottle of pirate sweat as putrid because they wanted to distinguish putrid pirate sweat from aromatic pirate sweat. I know it's putrid, not because anybody enlightened me of its status, but because it's a fucking bottle of sweat off sweaty pirate balls.

EDIT: do you also see the irony in my criticizing someone else's proper use of adjectives?

Monday, June 8, 2009

wiping on drama queen

Anonymous left this comment on my last post.

Jong, my love, where have you been? I'm having withdrawls.

I missed you too, but please don't leave anonymous comments like this, because it totally looks like I'm writing flattering comments on my own post to myself.

Quick poll: Which of the following is the most pathetic act of desperation and sadness?

A) Writing flattering comments to yourself on your own post.

B) Unathorized use of smoking hot girl's blog contents, private photos and videos for your blog to make people think you're that girl... and breaking the achy breaky heart of mine and those of cluless 13-yr old boys.

c) Going to amusement park by yourself... eating funnel cakes with sugar powder all over your face and waiting in line to ride the rollercoaster by yourself... oh gawd this is so sad :(

Have you told your guildies you love them lately?

If you haven't, que up Willie Nelson's accoustic tunes and tell them they were always on your mind. hey buddy, have I made you feel second best? /hug

My guild came into wrath as a serious contender vying for server 1st and stuff. We was tight. Last week, the summer drama queen came outta no where, swept eight oscar nominations, and one-shotted the guild's stability into the danger zone.

It started with our pally tank going afk. We didn't think much of it cause we thought he got stuck again trying to fist himself. he'll be back next week. It turns out he's playing warhammer and never coming back... then came a series of departures by several key players... including the GM. We were breaking down in the middle of the yogg playoffs.

We didn't get to raid all last week and that poses all kinds of problems for me. I hate developing raid blue balls while the pitbulls inside me are flippin' out to kill stuff.

I didn't even log all weekend because I was tired of all these scrubby papparazzis coming to me for questions. There were speculations of the guild break-up and they wanted to know where I was going. I'm sinking with the ship motherfuckers leave me alone, I told them.

Tonight, I stepped up to ulduar expecting bunch of no shows. I stood there waiting for the raid formation punching myself in the face for taking my guildies for granted in the past. I always thought it was their job to be there with a warm raid spot saved for me when I logged.

The officer in charge somehow pulled the raid together. We had to pug third of the raid and we were running with 3 bear tanks. Wiping on ignis was embarrasing and we're definitely starting all over again-- hey, where do I port to? what does this boss do? does he drop anything leather?... Still, it felt sweet. i love my boyz.

Wednesday, June 3, 2009

Yesterday was king of all fail maintenance Tuesdays

It was 9 pm and my server was still busted. The raid was cancelled. I was really upset because I was all fired up to go. I checked the guild twitter, and apparently, the whole guild re-rolled death knights on Azgalor. If you saw bunch of idiots running around the dk starting area, that was us.

I didn’t wanna play dk, so I rolled a dwarf paladin on Megan’s server. She was in ulduar so I picked up herbalism and started herbing the crap out of dun morg. I tell you, I didn’t realize the extent of male belf suckfest until I tried dwarf. The jazz hands casting animation is one thing. I can’t stand belf Brian Littrell fumanchoo pissant chin hair. When my dwarf eats soup, soup gets all over my luscious beard, and I don’t even wipe it off, because I love it.

Being a lvl 5 scrub pally no one knows was a nice pace of change. When I’m on Jong, I can’t even go to Ice Crown to do the dailies because all the scourge minion teeny bopper groupies be zerging me to get their nipples signed. OMG OMG it’s really him!

Anyhow, I saw Megan’s paladin in person and I was really excited. Her raiding spec is holy, but her off-spec pvp ret gears are better than all your gears and all your mom’s gears combined. She got the Furious Mace of PvE Ret Pally Self-esteem Obliteration. It was gemed with [Bold Show Time] and [Rigid Let’s Go].

Speaking of pvp ret gears, have you seen this PvP Ret Pally BiS Gear List? I think Ferraro proudly put this together before she resigned from retpalaind.com. I’m just wondering if I’m the only one who finds the concept of pvp ret pally BiS gear list absolutely hilarious.

Ferraro: “So, the PvP Ret Pally BiS Gear List is as follows… head: furious, shoulders: furious, chest: furious, legs: furious, belt: furious, boots: …”

Me: “Wait, wait, let me guess… errrm… furious?”

Ferraro: “Yes! How did you know? Furious boots are better than hateful boots.”

Monday, June 1, 2009

Metal Gear Solid: Ironforge

/Incoming transmission…doo doo doo…doo doo

At 0400 today, you will be air-dropped into the mountains just south of Coldridge Valley. You are to locate and infiltrate the nearest Alliance base NE of the drop zone. This is an undercover reconnaissance mission. Establish a cover and report to frequency 140.09 as soon as you're positioned. If the cover is compromised, bubblehearth.


/transmission terminated

/transmission incoming

Jong: Command Center, are you receiving?

Thrall: Report

J: I'm in the city. I've established a cover.

T: What's your... wtf? Are you wearing a head band?

J: Yeah, I wanted to look like Solid Snake. Andre Aggassi said image is everything.

T: ...

T: What's your cover?

J: I'm a level 17 dwarf arms warrior.

T: You're not a paladin?

J: Nope. Paladins are pussies. I always wanted to be an arms warrior. Dwarves are awesome. I was getting so sick of male belf cast animation. JAZZ HANDS! Theeeese are spirit fingers. GHEY.

Anyhow, I checked into the inn to set my hearthstone, and just look at this ironic claim tag on my bag!

Isn't that so ironic? I'm l33t!

T: How ironic. That looks just like Ferraro's claim tag. Give me a quick run-down on initial observations.

: Ok, you ready? Get this, this whole city is FORGED in IRON. I haven't found out what they call this place yet, but the entire place is FORGED in IRON. Absolutely magnificient.

: Astounding.

: Orgrimmar is made of what? Trees and mud? Set that shit on fire on a low humidity day. gg for you.

: -_-
J: These guys are in Iron Age and you're bearly sucking wind through the Neolithic Age.

: That's enough.

J: If you reference the archeological chronology table, you're about 3000 years behind these guys. You are like monkeys to them.

T: Enough!

T: /sigh... Anything else?

J: Errrm, yeah. Draenai girl butts are really bouncy and they stick out really far. I sneaked up on one and tried to set my sandwich tray on it.

T: What?!?

J: Inorite? She turned around and yelled at me. I almost blew my cover, because I panicked and blurted out "my, you're a tall one!"

T: Were you able to get a general assessment of the sophistication level of the trade channel participants?

J: Yes. It's pretty interesting. The Alliance trade chat scrubs are just as scrubby as the Horde trade chat scrubs. Murlocs stole my socks. Chuck Norris' DNA isn't double helix; it's barbed wire... you know.

T: I see.

J: Anal [Quick Cap]!

T: What?

J: Hey chief, I gotta go, they just started the anal games. OMG I'm gonna OWN these scrubs... Anal [Wrecking Ball]! I said it first! Noooope, I TOTALLY said it first!

T: Jong... Commander Jong! Solid Snake!

/transmission terminated

IMPORTANT LEGAL DISCLAIMER: I did not get that claim tag from Double Tree Ironforge. I totally ninjaed it from techdarling's blog. It's hers, not mine.