I’m sure that I will always be
A lonely number like root three

The three is all that’s good and right,
Why must my three keep out of sight
Beneath the vicious square root sign,
I wish instead I were a nine

For nine could thwart this evil trick,
with just some quick arithmetic

I know I’ll never see the sun, as 1.7321
Such is my reality, a sad irrationality

When hark! What is this I see,
Another square root of a three

As quietly co-waltzing by,
Together now we multiply
To form a number we prefer,
Rejoicing as an integer

We break free from our mortal bonds
With the wave of magic wands

Our square root signs become unglued
Your love for me has been renewed

Optical illusions mask the real,

Latex gloves give plastic feel.

Trench coat flows past the heels.

All that’s there was never here.

He lets nothing real ever appear.

He makes disappear all that’s dear.

In anything true, he never partakes,

Only through false, he becomes The Fake.

There’s nothing where there once was.

He lifts the bottom, and makes it the above.

His next trick is the one we all love,

From thin air he lets fly a white dove.

He lets nothing real ever appear.

He makes disappear all that’s dear.

In anything true, he never partakes,

Only through false, he becomes The Fake.

No one knows his secrets, he’s too quick.

They try to catch him, but he’s too slick.

Because once you blink, you’ve missed the trick.

That is why he is the King of Magic.

I climbed out of the dark and revitalized my fate,

I looked impossibility in the eyes and spit in its face.

I’ve drawn water from the depths of the most unlikely wells.

It’s like I ran a marathon a day, and I never fell.

I had to step on shoes and elbow people in the face,

I said I gotta get to the top, you gotta get out of my way.

And all the time I was told that I had no shot,

Well I guess trying at zero percent is better than trying not.

I came out of nowhere,

My words creeping out of the dark.

Now I’m known all over,

My words creeping to the top of the chart.

All I had was pen and paper with no connections,

No role model to ditto besides my own view of perfection.

I had to write on the foundation of criticism.

I only had my heart and mind to help me make decisions.

I put all on the line as I kept trekking under stress,

I kept getting a “no” but I fueled myself with a “yes.”

And out of the dark I’ve been dealt a hand of aces and kings,

As long as you’ll pay to listen is as long as I’ll stay to sing.  Word.

I came out of nowhere,

My words creeping out of the dark.

Now I’m known all over,

My words creeping to the top of the chart.

Now the lessons I learned are invaluable to me,

I passed life’s test- if you try you will succeed.

With no struggle there’s no progress- it’s the way of the world;

I hope now I can be a role model for all you boys and girls.

All I’ve gone through in my life has opened up my eyes,

There are odds out there just waiting to be defied.

Looking back in life, I see what it was worth,

I wouldn’t have changed a second, not even the worst.

Back to the point.  Madden is retarded.  Absolutely mindless, unrealistic stupidity.  There was so many good competitive football games out there but Madden managed to rape them all despite mislabeling the year on every game. 

One of the most absurd things Madden manages to keep alive is player ratings.   Every player is rated in EVERY category.  Ray Lewis has a ball carrying rating.  Jamal Lewis has a tackling rating.  Ironically, Marc Bulger does not have a Cocky Behind the Back Hail Mary rating.  Maybe this/next year.

This is a letter from the worst rated Madden football player in the game.  He was pissed off so he decided to write a letter to the makers of what is…Madden football.

To: John Madden
CC: Electronic Arts Sports
From: Ethan Albright
Re: Being the worst rated player on Madden ‘07

Hi, John, my name is Ethan Albright. I play line for the Washington Redskins. You probably already knew that, so I’ll continue. I am writing in regards to the overall player rating of 53 that I have received in Madden NFL Football 2007. I feel that this is fucking bullshit and you should kiss my mother-fucking ass. Ahmed Carroll was rated a 78 and the Packers just cut his ass on a Tuesday morning after his performance in a Monday night game. That is pretty terrible. The worst part is that his overall rating was sniffing 80.

You know what, John? Two can play this game. I rate you a fucking 12. I rate you a fucking 12 in Ethan Albright Football 2000-ever… except for in the category of ball-licking. That is where I will spot you a 98 rating. You will receive this score because I will never give your blubbery ass a 99 in any category. Take that, pencil-dick. Go do Al Micheals or something. Boom.

It’s also pretty wonderful that my awareness rating was 59. You make it sound like I wake up in the morning, helplessly shit and piss myself, then lose three of my teeth before I discover that I am trying to eat a rock for breakfast. Fuck, John, I understand you saying that I am slow and lacking athleticism, but a rating like this pretty much labels me as retarded. Rod “He Hate Me” Smart has a 52 in this category. Electronic Arts is saying that seven rating points separate me and the breathing embodiment of the perfect oxymoron. Rod Smart struggled to arrange words in sentence form. Cave men had better hold of the English language. The only actions that separate point values of ignorance at this embarrassing level are things like using your own toothbrush to wipe your ass. I basically edged out Rod by my lack of shit teeth. If I take a night school class, could you bump me up to a 60?

I guess I just can’t fathom the fact that I am the absolute worst player rated out of the entire NFL. Fuck, man, there are some shitty guys out there. Amongst everyone, I was rated the absolute worst.

I have received the impression that you feel that I am lacking in the agility category. I should consider a walk through my living room where I don’t crash through a wall or kick over furniture a resounding success. My agility rating on your game is 33. It makes it sound like I just topple over if I start walking too fast. Ted Washington is rated a 40 in agility. He is listed at 365 pounds. If Ted Washington tied a white lady up and made her wear a metal bikini, he’d look just like Jabba the Hut.

John, you are such a fucking dick. I also noticed that my kick return rating was a 0. I was rated a fucking zero? So you feel that I shouldn’t even receive a 10, or even a 5? You are pretty much saying that I couldn’t even fall forward on a ball kicked in my direction. I would just stand there and let the ball bounce off of my fucking face. Fuck that, John, I returned an onside kick 6 yards in 2002. You should have just slapped a – 4 on me and had the EA staff ambush me with paintball guns.

Finally, I would like to comment on an unlikely topic, my pass coverage ratings. I see that I am a better at man-to-man coverage (31) than zone (21). Fuck me sideways with a lunchbox. Where did these scores even come from? How much time is spent coming up with the pass coverage ratings of offensive lineman? Can I have that job? Let’s see here, I think that Orlando Pace would be slightly better at jumping intermediate routes than Larry Allen. While I’m at it, I can assign the passing ratings for offensive lineman as well. I can use mine as a guide.

I was rated with a throwing power of 17 and accuracy of 16. Orlando Pace has a 22 power and 17 accuracy rating. Did someone at EA really put time into figuring out that Orlando Pace edges out Ethan Albright in both throwing power and accuracy? I will challenge him any day. My horrible passer ratings are of greatest misfortune to my son, Red Beard Jr. The poor boy is not only hideously ugly and covered by freakishly large freckles. He also has to suffer through playing catch with me and my senile-elderly-woman-type passer ratings. A session of tossing the pigskin usually consists of me missing my son by thirty yards in sporadic directions. I led him in front of a fire truck once and my wife kicked my ass. This is because of my 76 toughness rating. Yes, a 76 is far better than the other ratings, but I’m a fucking lineman, damn it. NFL Linemen are considered to be synonymous with toughness. According to your game, I am a retarded, uncoordinated, pussy-ass fuckwad that can’t fall on a kickoff, throw, or spell. I am, however, slightly better at manning up on a receiver than dropping into zone coverage. You lose your mind more and more each year, old man.

Fuck you, John. Please expect to find red pubes in various meals you consume for the rest of your life. If you fuck with Ethan Albright, you call down the thunder.

Rot in Hell,

Ethan Albright

What will we be writing about?
Glad you asked. As the banner states, pretty much everything. We’ll do reviews of music albums, movies, books. We’ll provide helpful how-to’s in all sorts of topics (look for tech how-to’s). We’ll do editorials, stories, whatever we’re in the mood for.

We want to stand out a little, so we’re gonna put effort into this. We’re in the very early stages, but if you are reading this, enjoy, there’s more to come.

-JtF

No but seriously,

Yayo does the techy-geeky-nerdy-’how-did-he-get-a-girlfriend-thats-really-a-girl-without-using-his-credit-card’ sorta stuff

While Nis endlessly writes on about nothing and hopes that someone out there finds anything he writes remotely funny.  And will admit they think it’s funny.  I’m not getting my hopes up.

**Update** July 29th, 2008, 6:43PM- Nis reads his own post and LOLs at his own immaturity.