February 22, 2006

Hunters are such saps.

Let me let you guys in on a secret. Hunters? Yeah. They're just saps who flunked out of warlock school. I don't mean that literally of course. There isn't really a warlock school. I'm just saying, if there was one, the people who couldn't cut it would become hunters.

I'm kicking around with this hunter the other night, and we're doing alright. It's pretty cool because we both send our minions in to do our work for us. I've got my succubus and she's got some kind of big black cat. I notice that as time goes on the cat is carrying less and less of the burden, and I point that out to the hunter.

"Oh, she must just be hungry. Wait a minute while I feed her."

That's when I realized what saps hunters were. I mean, look at this:

See that cute orange bar? Apparently that's the pet's happiness meter. Happiness! Can you believe it!? Not only do hunters have to spend gods-only-know how much gold on endless supplies of arrows and bullets, but they have to keep their pets happy! How quaint!

I was laughing so hard that I must have hurt her feelings, because she started getting on my case about how I have a pet too so I should understand how she feels.

"Honey," I told her, "I don't have pets. I have minions. I have demonic slaves. They serve me because their souls are bound to me by incantations black and ancient. If I were concerned with their happiness I would release them from the anguish and torment that is servitude."

Then, $just to prove my point, I Dark Pacted all my succubus's mana away and sent her off to be murdered by some elite dragon. Then I resummoned her and did it again. "Sometimes," I told the hunter, "I make her sit and whip herself with her tail until she's bruised and bloody, for no reason other than my own amusement. I charge kids in Stormwind five silver a piece to watch."

At that point she was pretty fed up with me, so she took her lame panther and went somewhere else. Oh well, good riddance. It's not my fault hunters are such saps.

February 19, 2006

Beards are gross.

The thing that bothers me most about Azeroth is that every guy has a beard. Let me tell you guys something, beards are totally disgusting. Not one single dude in all the Alliance has a beard that is even remotely attractive. Especially you night elves. Seriously, what's your problem? You guys look like some kind of crazed feral wolf-men. Every time I'm riding the Deeprun Tram, and there's like some night elf dude hanging out there with me, I'm afraid his beard is going to jump off his face and try to crawl up inside my robes.

This one time I was hanging out at the inn in Goldshire with Rhaego, my dwarfling minion, and an entire grilled cheese sandwich fell out of his beard. I thought it was the most disgusting thing I'd ever seen in my life, until he picked up the sandwich and started eating it. I was so grossed out I felt like I was going to throw up, only I didn't because I'm a classy lady.

Gnomes, though. Ugh. Gnomes have the worst beards of all. It's completely impossible to be attracted to guys of my own species, because their beards are the most horrible things imaginable. Every male gnome in the world has this scraggly, horrible beard. It looks like face fungus.

And then you have the Horde, and they have awful beards too. To be honest though, I don't think they're quite as awful as Alliance beards. It's like, when you meet an orc, you have this expectation that he's going to be dirty and unclean, so having a scraggly patch of nappy face-fur isn't quite so far off base. Then you have these tauren, and they're pretty much just all beard. Whenever I see a tauren I set him on fire.

I think I figured it out though: the reason these guys are all walking around with atrocious beards is because there are no epic-level razors that drop off the bosses of enormous raid instances. I'm sure if a bottle of shaving cream were to pop up as a rare drop in Molten Core, they'd be killing themselves over it. I actually tried to make some shaving cream once using alchemy, and paid some guy 50 silver to try it out for me, but it turns out what I had made was actual face-fungus, and it ate his face. I took my 50 silver back from his corpse. I took his nice leather boots too. We were high up in the Alterac Mountains at the time, and my succubus was complaining that her hooves were cold.

February 18, 2006

The internet is pretty fantastic.

I'm pretty impressed with this whole internet thing. It's full of bored, lonely people; exactly the kind of people I need to do my bidding. But we'll get to that later.

My name is Crystalis, and this is my first entry on this Blogger gig. I had to fill out all these weird forms to get this far, which I guess is alright. I mean the Blogger cats obviously don't want a lot of uncool people trashing up their reputation. The forms are probably like a screening process to ensure only awesome people are allowed in.

A lot of gnomes have really stupid last names like "Tinklebottom" or "Greaseshaft" or whatnot. I only have one name: Crystalis. It's a gorgeous name that matches my gorgeous eyes. Why have another one? I let people call me Crys, too, because it's easier to say. Besides, in the time it takes you to say "Crystalis" you could say, like, "Lady Crys" or "Mistress Crys" or even "Emperess Crys", and that's cool with me.

As a warlock who is as talented as she is beautiful, I summon demons to do my bidding all the time. I would have to say that forcing dumb creatures into doing my bidding is the greatest joy in my life. I run this guild called "Winter is Coming" and make them do my bidding all the time. Sometimes they think they're off doing their own thing, but really it's just a ruse on my part to get them to believe they don't always have to do what I say. It's pretty clever, really. In return for the privelage of being able to do my bidding, I grace them with my divine presence on occassion. I know, I'm totally generous.

Anyway, there will be a lot of time to post all kinds of stuff here later. If you're looking to do someone's bidding, drop me a line because I have a lot of bidding to be done. I mean, if you're going to be doing some bidding anyway, it might as well be mine.