Thousands of spam comments ago, I wrote here. I’m going to attempt to do so again.
My original effort ground to a halt when I promised you, the (likely) non-existent reader, a categorical rundown of Mass Effect’s myriad rough edges. I believe my mistake was in believing I would do the necessary legwork to squeeze out anything more than stream-of-consciousness notes.
So, let’s you and me be straight here. I’m not gonna do research. I’m not here to chronicle; I’m here to jot.
And so:
Two days ago, I fully accepted my role as Husband, and did what any Husband does at least five times in his life: I bought an expensive exercise machine. For generations, Husbands have prostrated their slightly well-fed bodies before fantastical beings of iron and rubber, wallets and egos upheld in submission. Throw money at it, and wish for blessings in pectoral form.
Look, I bought a Wii, okay? I spent $400 total MSRP for a 3-year-old piece of hardware that was outdated 3 years ago. (Nintendo are geniuses.)
I bought it for EA Sports Active. I tried the 20 Minute Heap Of Failure Introductory Workout two days ago and my shoulders are still sore. The thought of a 30 Day Challenge weakens my already-sore knees. I tremble before my bland, flabby avatar.
I don’t know where this road will head, but at least the object gathering dust is small, white, and plastic, instead of giant, black, and metal. I don’t have a garage, anyway.