Subject: bleah Date: Sun, 21 Dec 1997 04:50:36 EST From: ThreeBrainHey fellas, Just a stupid long-ish letter about whatever whenever. If you don't feel like reading it, please skip out or whatever. Dis Lan, by the way, y'all, the good ol' boy from round the way done good . . . Just a short-esque letter, if you will, detailing the wild and wacky (okay, honestly not THAT wild nor that wacky, but ehh -- decently so, and hopefully worth reading) . . . anyway, for those who care, I arrived home in Pasadena (a suburb of Houston, working class and hard-scrabble, where both Mexicans and Rednecks alike are prevalent) amidst little fanfare. It should be of no consequence to me, but I (kinda, but not really) expected a small parade, but unfortunately this sad little town could muster up little or nothing. I came home and then went to play pool -- again, not really -- it was a pool hall, but all's I's did was play ping pong (an Asian sport if there ever was one) and some air hockey. The next day I go out with my cousin and do some yadda yadda and then some shopping done, and what not. We run out of gas and stay at his pad -- it is amazing, a 3-bedroom 2-and-a-half-bathroom type place, a townhouse-ish type place, two stories and all -- rent, 694 a month. Of course, it's governement subsidized and intended for working class families with an income of less than $30 000, full-time students NOT allowed, but ehh -- he scammed the system again . . . but anyway . . . I come home and sleep some more, than that night I go to the Roxy -- this club on the west-ish side of town -- since the semi-illustrious DJ Kool will be there, of "Let Me Clear My Throat" fame -- of course, Biz Markie and Doug E Fresh won't be there, so the amazing "Old School remix" can't be performed, but whatever. No girls, of course, but -- I guess I should explain what I feel, or whatever, about girls, and clubbing, and all that? Firstly, I really don't care for clubing too much -- like, every now and then it's solid, but overall -- ehh, a mighty so-so at best . . . second, despite whatever, picking up chicks you don't know ain't ALL that (I ain't that much of a pimp yet, unfortunately) -- I mean, I guess it's kinda fun when you are with a gaggle of guys and you all have like a pool or whatever going, but you know what I mean . . . anyway, so I go there, see DJ Kool and more Asians then, I dunno . . . a LOT, to say the least, all "Asianed" out, unfortunately -- bastards, I dunno . . . but overall it was okay, even if I did just go with friends and no chicks . . . Which of course brings us to Friday. Yes, oh great Friday. Since I had done whatever with whoever already the past few days, when some friends called and axed me to go play some magic at this place on the North-ish side of town, I go, "Well, okay, I guess . . ." I figgered, "Well, maybe I can get some extended playtesting in (since I, a scrub, am unqualified), or maybe I can playtest some type 2 (there may even be a tournament, which I have not played in since August), or what the hey, we could draft." ANYWAY, this place is as backasswards as you can get. You know those crappy movies that take place in the outbacks of Texas, and those seedy bars where the bikers all hang out, and there is always some kinda brawl, and it looks all kinda crappy? Welp, apply that to a Magic-esque sceanrio . . . this place was pretty gross. It made me remember why I kept my cards hidden in the closet and why I had had my long hiatus away from the game. I dunno, maybe I am being elitist, but . . . welp. to be honest, the place kinda (no, not kinda --actually, more like really) smelled bad. I mean BAD, like major major bee-oh. Ugh, it was like you had . . . I dunno, but suffice to say it was pretty nasty. And all they wanted to do there of course was trade. Looking for tradewind riders (which round these parts are mad hot), all hallow's eves, and other so such. No less than three random people were trying to complete sets -- a friend traded off such amazing things as Antiquities Battering Rams, Atogs, Urza's Mines, Giant Tortoise (Arabian), etc. Oh, and the omnipresent GROUP GAME. Yes! Everyone was playing howling mine / millstone decks, and this one dude had all these dual lands, but all I saw was helm of awakenings, howling mines, and chimeras. Yes, THIS playtesting. Anyway, a friend of mine tricks me into playing into one of these "group games." I get handed a Verduran Enchantress deck -- what the hell is going on here?! Friday night, playing magic. Bad enough. At a magic store with a gaming room in the back. Strike two, chief. PLAYING A GROUP GAME. Oh my lord what the hell happened to me? . . . Anyway, something or other happens, and the chair I am sitting in -- well, the air above it smelled of the person that sat in it before me -- that is, simply to say, bee- oh, or a derivatative of it. All bad. I play for a few minutes, for shits and grins, but I admit, after like three turns and what not, I just quit. I don't have the heart to continue playing -- all these guys, in there magic shirts with their long uncut unkempt greasy hair, playing with their psuedo- type I decks, all carrying their magic toolboxes -- it was too much for me. Maybe I am sounding elitist or whatever, and I guess I should feel bad-ish, but . . . you know what I mean? I dunno . . . we left rather quickly after that, at my insistance -- I feel dirty enough admitting that I was even playing, to you cats, but you know how it is . . . someone mentioned a local barbecue joint that was open 24-hr and some players played games at (group games I am sure) and traded and so such . . . a couple of friends wanted to go (whose names of course will go unrevealed, for their sakes), but I said nah nah -- I didn't want none of that Bar-Bee-Oh-Q action, says I . . . and that was that . . . Anyway, I also play in a sealed deck tourney today, with Tempest starters, a Mirage booster, and a Visions booster -- the very first sanctioned tourney I played in since August. I go 4-0, en route to the finals which we agree to split and I get half a box of needed Tempest as a reward. Looks like Lan-O might be getting back on the scene -- look out, Lan D. Ho -- local magic toughie, the KoP -- King of Pasadena (Texas, that is), who will be the "Newcomer of the Year," come LA -- you heard it here first . . . Anyway, such is a record of the daily-esque adventures -- not really, but ehh. I am doing sumpin with Marci on Monday, so that is all good -- not that you guys care, but you know . . . if any of y'all wanna write me (and I'm sure you don't, but anyway) -- just send a letter to landho@mail.utexas.edu, landho@hotmail.com, and ThreeBrain.aol.com -- a friend and cousin's semi- pirated AOL account (which I am using to write said letter) -- if you guys want, I will take pictures of AUTHENTIC MEXICANS and AUTHENTIC REDNECKS for you -- since they are hard to come by, I hear . . . anyway, I'm bounincg, get back to you cats later . . . Take care, and all the best, Lan D. Ho Ynp, and all that jazz