TheKZA's Not-Blog for Strangers |
I'm Kristen, also called TheKZA, also called "Steve". |
(Source: brookeem)
My best ever Black Ops match (50 kills, 39 deaths, 9 caps, 6 defends) on double XP weekend and all!
Saxon Cole - Same Day Edit - 11th June, 2011
(Source: yimmyayo)
This one time, I saw ninja turtles kiss.
But their car was pretty sweet!
Want turtle car
(Source: beyondelegance)
Since I lived quite a distance from my primary school, I only had a few friends that lived close by, and so it was common for me to go on, what I guess now would be called, a “playdate”.
On one of these playdate’s, I went to the house of a friend who had a Sega Master System. I already had friends with Sega’s, and was also very confident in my opinion that the Nintendo Entertainment System was a far better video game console, so, I wasn’t TOO emphatic about playing Sega. His dad was also a corporate type guy whose company had just signed on as the sponsor for some F1 racing team. They told me all about it when I got there, and 10-year-old me, just like 28-year-old me, couldn’t give a shit. You see, I was still at the age where I didn’t realise I was supposed to be a man and enjoy man things. There was F1 racing on the TV when I got there and we were forced to watch it for what felt like, an hour. I didn’t like sport. I liked X-Men and Super Mario.
So, I was excited when the Sega came out, and surprise, surprise, the only game they had was “Ayrton Senna’s F1 Racing.” Here’s where shit gets weird. So the Sega comes out, and like so many lame-o families, it had to be connected and unwrapped out of the box (unlike my household where multiple consoles where permanently connected with cables strewn across the carpet.)
After this, they popped in the game, and my friend started playing the racing game… with his 7 year-old sister. I sat watching them play, and when their race had finished, I asked for a go, but was denied by their parents. What?! Aren’t I the guest? Didn’t I tolerate your god damn F1 racing for an hour?!?! Not only did they tell their kids to play again, they told me to move off the chairs in front of the television and sit at the back of the room. I shit you not. As an adult now, it seems even more scarring and I feel like travelling through time so I can rescue my younger self.
Then, get this shit, they start bring out props. First, it’s F1 racing POSTERS that they stuck on the wall behind the TV, followed by a checkered flag. Then they bring out a racing “like” parkas and make my friend and his sister pause the game and put them on, and then they bring out ACTUAL RACING HELMETS.
I was so confused as to what the hell was going on, and was worried I’d have to do the same thing. Finally, they bring out a wreath, like the kind they give to the winner of the race, and put it on the television.
Then…
They start taking pictures. All the while, my friend and his sister have been playing this F1 racing game.
Weird shit? Here’s where it really makes me feel like sucking my thumb.
A few weeks later, my friend brings me a copy of the photos to school for me to keep.
whatthefuckidonteven
Remembered by staticnoise