Trip the Light Fantastic

So we changed up Dungeon Masters a couple of weeks ago. Two players competed violently for the right to manage the game's dungeons and dragons. Round one involved arm wrestling, but the two pasty contestants' muscles proved too atrophied to produce a winner. Round two moved on to naked pudding wrestling, chocolate and vanilla swirl. The match had no more begun than the spectators began retching uncontrollably. As a result, a tie was called and both declared Dungeon Master.

Blake, the first of the two to take the reins, runs a business selling . . . crap on Ebay. Yes, much like that chick on The 40 Year Old Virgin. I remind him of this often. Surprisingly, he fails to see the humor in it. At any rate, via the business he runs, Blake bought an entire palette of ancient LCD projectors for $5. Each one must weigh at least 500 pounds and comes with feature (instead of features). Last session, Blake mounted it on the ceiling of the room we game and then proceeded to project some sweet-ass game maps for us run around and kill shit. Beats the hell out of ten-minute Sharpie scrawling. Err, except, the projector dates back to the 20th century and thus retains the lumen power of my desk lamp. Forcing us to turn out all the lights.

I think I may have been sexually assaulted at that last session, but wouldn't be able to identify my attacker if my life depended on it.