Dear 2loggers,

Last week, in a post entitled "What's in your super bowl?" I posted a picture of a plate of nachos.  For my (complete lack of) troubles, I was awarded the title of 2logger of the week in the points competition. Since Friday, I have deflected call after call from a doting public demanding to know how I did it and what my secret is. My secret is this - post a picture of nachos and you win.

Just goes to show, that all of the hard work of the other bright minds on this blog simply cannot stand up to a plate of nachos.

I am truly, deeply apologetic for my transgressions. I owe y'all some chips covered in cheese and other fixins. It's the least I can do.

Sincerely,

Mark

 I know what's in mine.

Whoa, group. Sorry I've been gone so long. I've been out seeing the world. I have some findings to report that are probably pretty well known already but I'm confirming them to be true.

• Fully half the images on the internet are of cats. I know because I looked at all of them.
• The number of gumballs in the jar is always. fucking. 3,187. Wish I'd known that as a child but the prizes are just not exciting anymore.
• Put this in your pipe and smoke it: Tobacco fields cover 78% of New York State. (source: ny.gov)
• In 1934, the best idea that one Senator could come up with to improve the economy was to give everyone in the nation a fish. Another Senator quipped back "why don't you teach them all to fish, it'll last longer". Nothing actually came of either statement, though it was later discovered that the first Senator had interest in fish populations*.

* Don't question it.

To celebrate the holiday season, each 2logger will be penning a post freely inspired by the classic song 'The Twelve Days of Christmas' for the next 12 days. This will either be amazing or catastrophic. Merry Christmas!

***

So now it's a month later and I count like 30 of the damn hens and I still can't catch none of them and I guess I did enjoy the Vichyssoise. So cmon, be a pal dig? You gotta come over here with a net or at least go pick up the rest of the crap from the DHL office and dump it in a lake.

Merry Christmas!!!

An artist's rendition of a french hen with a 'stache.

 gr over at the Alcoholist blog is doing a fun set of experiments to figure out which alcohol catches the most flies.

This round, he's testing out the Cooper family's drinks. Know the story? Papa Cooper started the popular French raspberry liqueur brand Chambord, which he recently sold to Brown-Forman for $250M. Afterwards, both baby Coopers started their own liqueurs. Robert Cooper started the St-Germain brand of elderflower liqueur (I think it's the only one or damn near close) and John Cooper followed suit with Domaine de Canton, a ginger flavored liqueur.

Of course you can make all kinds of drinks with these, but which one catches the most flies?

I'll leave you to read gr's post, but from there I had a few extra questions. Why is it better? We discussed a bit and couldn't conclude, but I thought maybe the one-two of sugar and alcohol did it. Then I found out it takes nearly 20 minutes to knock a fruit fly out with booze. Other speculation considers the surface tension of the different drinks.

Further experimentation forthcoming at the source, though I may report back.

"Alexander!"

"Yes, mother?"

"Are you in the shed again? I need you to clean your room and wash up before company arrives."

"But Mother, I'm inventing."

"Now hear me young man, you can invent on your own time. What will the Jacksons say if they get here to find the house such a fright and my no-good layabout son up to his knees in the Lord knows what?"

Sound familiar? I'll bet it does. In this day and age, it's hard to find time in your busy schedule to invent a proper thing while you're always being asked to tidy up and muck out the stables. Fortunately, now you can have your inventing time *and* keep your Mother off your back, with the brand new...

"Leroy!"

"Oh what now? Yes, Mother?"

"Get your ass out of that recording studio and pick up this mess! My Tupperware Party starts in 45 minutes and I'll not have you slinking about and tripping over this garbage!"

"Ah, crap!!!"

Can you really live without our product?

YOU DECIDE!!!!!!!!!!!!!

The waist measurement for your pants should always be the same as your birth year on your birthday. It doesn't matter what you do the rest of the year.*

When you reach a milestone of your life, like your 30th birthday, invite all of your friends to a destination birthday party. Promote the hell out of it, then when it comes and they all get to Cancun you're actually back in New York breaking into their homes and stealing and selling all of their effects like I did last year.**

Call attention to your birthday about two months in advance in every interaction that you have with anyone who will listen and most of the ones that won't. Spend the actual evening quietly at home with your cat reading the latest fiction from Penguin Books.*

Play a game of Scrabble where you insist that every word played has to begin with the letter B and be a synonym for birthday. Also insist it has to rhyme with your name.*

Red wine fight.

* You can have that idea.

** You can have that idea if we're not friends.

How to compliment people

"He sure is a stand up character, and his comments always make it through moderation."

"That man's clean shorts sparkle like the sun."

"Her nails could sharpen a lesser woman's nails."

"His prowess in the kitchen is matched only by the roominess of his luggage."

"You're looking fuller in the jaw recently. Have you been working out?"

"That sweater you're wearing could easily pass for a more expensive sweater!"

"I'd Tweet that."

How to compliment a 2logger

"I really see how much you deserve the 2nd log."

"You sir are no bunny. No sir."

"Your pinglies rimple floobilly in the jamtimes."

How to compliment Stodgr

"Wow, that was astonishingly dull and boring. I need a nap."

Next time: How to compliment a rabid animal...

 There's a commercial for it -- a young man confides in the powers that be (in this case, a man in a suit) that his girlfriend does not want to stop watching him play "Uncharted 2" because she thinks it's a movie. The suited man files the case under "Not a problem". She's hot of course.

I picked up Uncharted 2 yesterday and was immediately captivated.

At the outset of any new video game adventure, there's some question as to what the rules are. This is one of my favorite parts of the experience. The ruleset, the decisions the game developers made when designing the game, the quirks, bugs and other peculiarities of a new world are fascinating. There is some argument to be made that these rules are only fascinating in their rigidity and scope, or a counter argument that they can never be fascinating because of their rigidity and scope, but this discussion could only be for another post.

Immediately I discovered that, while Nate might indeed look as if he is in a hellhole of a shitty situation (in this case, attempting to escape from a train car that is teetering off of a cliff on a snowy mountain top), he is in no danger. The game cradled me in its arms as it terrified and thrilled me. But after the first few bumps in the road I knew I was safe. Grab hold of this sturdy looking pipe and it breaks free, throwing Nate against the outside of the precarious car with a crash, but there is always something else to attach to, some other sturdy handhold. I was safe.

The scenery is gorgeous, the cutscenes are pieced together as a full-length feature film would be, except I am living it. I need to live it, not being a passive creature by nature or by nurture, I cannot be still and watch. My control issues demand control of the situation. The mixture that Uncharted 2 provides is perfect. The combination of stealth and firepower is perfect. The story is engrossing.

Partners in crime: it's a tricky concept. The Artificial Intelligence necessary to shoot at you is somewhat more forgiving. When it makes a mistake the player is rewarded. When you have a sidekick and they botch it, you're disgusted. There was one time when I jumped off a building and caught a ledge, only to have Chloe jump on top of my back and knock me from the ledge and to my death. The fact that she seemed genuinely concerned by this in her cries of "NATE!" was unimpressive. I was gunning for Gold Survivor status, and I am not keen on death.

I'll beat this game. Probably before the weekend is out. If you appreciate free-running action, gunfights, and Indiana Jones type story lines, you should probably do the same, though I will not attempt to similarly restrict your timeline. 98 pts.