Where Have All the Chocobo Farmers Gone?: An Andore Jr. Special

Tue, 07/14/2009 — Sak

The year was 1994. Al-Gaddafi withdrew Libyan troops from Chad. Yaki Kadafi finds al-Gadaffi's name fucking hilarious, and adopts a parody of it as his own. Technotronic releases the Billboard flop, "Move It To the Rhythm" (a spiritual successor to "Move This"). Square releases Final Fantasy VI to an American audience with baited breath under the nom de plume of Final Fantasy III. The effects were both immediate and long lasting. Boys destined for greatness in academia, business, entertainment, and the arts, were diverted to an equally successful life of long-standing virginity, poverty, fan fictionery, and Final Fantasy III. However, not everything was perfect in the world of Final Fantasy fandom.

Factions amongst fans quickly broke out; Scottish Enlightenment Lockeans were quick to condemn the Christian Cyanists, while the flamboyant Figaros criticized the ever-reserved Gaus for their lack of political commitment. For a year, the world, already embroiled in the arduous process of healing poor international relations was subject to the rocky in-fighting of Final Fantasy III fans.

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Temping at Lord Bafford's

Fri, 10/01/2004 — Fasteriskhead

Man, this is just great. Here I am, a B.A. in English Lit who wrote a paper applying Derrida-derived post-structuralism to Milton for my senior seminar, and what am I two years out of college? A guard working in some dumb fucking castle protecting some rich nobleman's stupid priceless scepter. Meanwhile I bet my asshole first year roommate (what was his name? Henry? Harold? CHRIST IT DOESN'T EVEN MATTER), who opted for the business school, is probably off somewhere making six figures in bonuses alone and blowing it all snorting coke off of naked interns. There's no fucking justice at all.... I mean, HELLO?? Does that shithead Bafford even KNOW that he's trapped in a Humanist Empiricist-Idealist conceptualization of the cosmos? Nooo, of course not, because if he was then maybe he'd give me more than like two seconds for my goddamned smoke breaks.

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Boggy '84's Big Date

Fri, 08/27/2004 — Sak

Uh, yeah. I, uh --- I had a good time tonight. My number? Oh, uh, listen I -- you know how the city has been integrating that new area code system in? Yeah, well they changed my number and -- (sigh) listen. Things just didn't -- they didn't pan out the way they should've. I'm a geometrically awkward thief with a cleft chin, humongous nose, comically crossed eyes, and a hilarious felt hat that refuses to stay atop my noggin, and you're a -- well, you're a monkey.

It's not that, it -- it's not the species thing. Well it's not just the species thing. That whole pogo trick is great, but Christ, you were doing it all night; I mean you knew you'd be getting attention all Goddamn night. Those fellows in the blue and yellow suits are still following us! Look! Listen, I just -- I need to go. As soon as I find my unnecessarily large car key on this gigantic ring, I'm outta here.

This also might not be the right time to tell you this but I believe the person who drew us might be retarded.

On Hope

Sat, 07/24/2004 — Fasteriskhead

As I sit there in the dark at 4:00 a.m. staring at my moniter, a voice in the back of my mind proposes, "Hey!! Maybe if I can get my Ice Blaster here up to level 30, then my life can change for the better!" It grows more and more convincing with each passing moment. "The fact that I've flunked out of college and my entire family hates me and my parents refuse to give me any kind of recognition or aid won't matter! While women may look at me with a mixture of disgust and pity and right now I seem to be destined to a life of bitter loneliness without a hint of love or intimacy, all that is soon to change! Today I may be stuck in a shitty, go-nowhere job delivering stale inedible pizza, and when I return home I may look with a certain grim joy at the knife I've placed on the edge of the bathtub (in preperation for when I will finally escape this hell that is life), but NO MORE!" Yes, for with only a few missions further, Admiral Algor will reach the big three-oh; at last I will be the king of single-combat damage, and finally I can know of that elusive "joie de vivre." Women will flock to me and I will reach the fame and fortune of which I have always dreamed.

Time passes. Of course, when Admiral Algor does eventually turn over, none of it happens.

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