Dwolla, a Discussion of Hyperbole (and Parenthetical)

Welcome "guest". Glad you could "checkout" this blog. This is the first official announcement type post where I tell you things that no one else has ever heard before. I'm that guy you know who tells you about all those indie bands you pretend to like before anyone else has heard of them so you seem cooler than you actually are (which is still pretty cool, I mean). HERE IS THE ANNOUNCEMENT:

Gombler has purchased a small grizzly bear. And has also figured out how to use our phone's camera.

 

His name is Jake, Destroyer of Heavens and the Earth and the Legs of My New Couch. We call him Jake for short and are currently training him to shoot lasers out of his eyes.

Booooooooooom!



 

Furthermore, as you are most certainly aware, Gombler enjoys the services of Dwolla (r) (tm) (c) (esq.) for our monetary transactions. We (and you) are about to enjoy them even more and in a totally Platonic way! You know how before you had to make a Dwolla account AND a Gombler account just to lose your money to your friends playing SC2 (note: you probably don't)? Well now you just need the Gombler account, and use the brand crankin' new guest checkout feature that Dwolla has seen fit to partner with us to launch. Frankly, they're the reason that we can do things like charge you zero rake for a whole year: The Dwolla price (price is not capitalized!)!

 

Nathan Jackson

 





Grubby vs. aTnDarKFoRcE!!!

All cards on the table here: you, reader, can beat me at SC2. I considered doing a show match of myself vs. a computer, and that's exactly what I am now announcing. For I am Grubby. I am Grubby and Iron Man. And DarKFoRcE is a computer, but I digress.

Ladies and gentlemen-gamers, we've teamed up with the good folk at SCV Rush to BUY the love and affection of DarKFoRcE and Grubby the Handsome. They'll be playing in our little best of 7 showmatch this Friday, July 13th at 9 PM CEST (good luck converting that to your local time zone). It shall be rebroadcast at what I suspect is a more reasonable hour in the North Americas: 8 PM EDT. Check it out on SCV Rush here and check out the poster below.

May the Odds Ever Be in Your Favor

I'm not proud of this moment.

Also, guys, check out SCV Rush. They do some great work over there and are nothing but consumate professionals.

Nathan Jackson

The Witching Hour

What is that last magical hour at work called before you are free to make your own bad decisions for your life? ANSWER: the witching hour, as inferred by the title. Would you like to know what the correct nomenclature is for all nonwork activities taking place during the witching hour? Tis called Goldbricking, my gombs.

I would like to apologize for trying to create a brand-specific synonym for friends. It didn't work out as well as I thought it would one tenth of a second before I typed it.

Ah yes, the witching hour. Since the dawn of man, this has been the most sacred of hours. A mini-holiday, really. Seven hours of half-assed work followed by one hour of sweet sweet internet surfing and time-awasting. Named after Saint Witching, an unfortunately named Flemmish monk, the historical significance has not escaped the world's attention. Legend has it that St. Witching was his monastery's gatekeeper. One day while he was busy guarding the gate for his alloted time, he fell asleep at his job for precisely the last hour before he was off for the rest of the day. Whence he awoke (some accounts say "with a start", but this is not canon), he found that a roving band of bears most vicious had attacked and killed every other member of his monastery, as was common in those ancient times. Amongst the blood and the gore, St. Witching collapsed in dispair: falling onto a pile of bear excrement. The pain of falling onto a brick of heavy metal was soon outweighed by the joy that only money can bring, for all the piles of bear excrement in the monastery (of which there were many, for bears poop a lot) held a brick of gold.

I... don't... even...

So remember, gombs, every time you goldbrick during the witching hour, you are celebrating trading your friends' lives for gold, or something. We're done here.

Nathan Jackson

WOW - Part 1

So This is Andy, I'm actually going to write a blog. This whole post is inspired by a conversation Andrew and I had about the party I'm throwing tonight and League of Legends (add me if you want to play- Meser). Don't ask; We're nerds.

So you know how you look back on times in your life and either laugh at how stupid you were or face palm because you were seriously an idiot, or both? Mine was WOW

During this time I was in college, working two jobs, engaged to Meredith (we're now married; contrary to what this post might lead you to believe) and raiding in WOW 5 days a week. Proof below. I don't really remember how I had time to do everything which was probably caused by me being drunk all the time; I wouldn't raid sober. I won't lie, I loved it.

The Best Laughing Moment- My wife telling me to put pants on because her friends were coming over

This is the probably the best memory I had and I still get a laugh out of it now. Most gamers would agree that playing video games with your pants off increases the experience by at least 12435435943% . So one day Meredith told me one of her friends was coming over to pick something up. I didn't really care/I don't know why she told me because I fully planned on playing WOW all day anyway.

This was one of those signature wake up, shower, play WOW all day (pant-less). EPIC WIN. So fast forward to 5 minuets before her friend is at our house she notices I don't have any pants on. EPIC WIN. For fear of angering Meredith, I get dressed (NOTE- This is like 7 PM).

So this is the best part, her friend brings her husband with her. He takes one look at me (playing WOW) and looking totally demoralized turns to his wife and says "why can't I do that".  For those married people, it was one of those questions you ask just to ask it but fully know what the answer will be (NO).

In conclusion, my wife is awesome.

The least interesting of blogs (for now)

Fine people of the internet, a riddle: What's up with Freakin Andy? About 5 months ago, Andy started to write his very own blog entry. Probably to defend himself from the verbal onslaught I've unleashed upon him. He never finished it. I believe the rest of the blog best suits my agenda if I let Andy just go ahead and speak for himself:

Hello. My name is Andy. No one reads this blog (yet....we hope). I'll save introductions for later.
So you probably have read (actually you probably haven't) Nathan's blog(s) below.  If you did, you learned a lot about bears.  If you didn't, you probably should. The end is near.

(C)aaaAAAaaandy Maaaaan!

Thanks, Andy. God bless.

Nathan Jackson

Druthers, as She is Had

Someone once told me that the greatness of the Danes is not soon forgotten. I can attest that I now hate this person and, more importantly, the bands thon likes. Of course, we can't speak of hating bands without also speaking of freakin Andy. Freakin Andy loves him some indie. In honor of freakin Andy, we've decided to sport our own indie band. You know, to be ironic. We've narrowed the list of band names to the following:

Atmospheric Cold Wars
Undefined Shaking
Intermittent Apathy

Furthermore, our debut album name has been narrowed down to the following:

So What, Soviet?
Alleviated Concern
The Eden Hierarchy

This debut album will contain such hits as:

I'm a Hipster, B*tch
Eyes are Like Portraits (Best Viewed through Thick Frames)
This Coffee's Okay
Let Me Tell You of my Mission Trip to Mexico
Applied Fair Trade to Catan and Lost

We've already played five sold out venues, but haven't made any money. We like to pack the house, then kick everyone out right before we play and give them all refunds. Then we play to an empty house. It's more intimate and underground that way.

Tebow?

Nathan Jackson

Regarding All Titles Recently Vacated by Departed Despots: Dibs

I call dibs. "Guiding Star of the 21st Century", "Glorious General, Who Descended from Heaven", "Amazing Politician", "Ever-Victorious, Iron-Willed Commander" and "Highest Incarnation of the Revolutionary Comradely Love" now refer to me, Nathan Jackson (as previously known, but henceforth known as [one of the titles mentioned above] Nathan Jackson). And I just blew your mind with brackets inside parenthesis. I do things like that because I am the Highest Incarnation of the Revolutionary Comradely Love (HIRCL for short). But what do these titles even mean? ANALYSIS, STAT!


Guiding Star of the 21st Century - A guide is, necessarily, in front. This is such that the sheeple (I'm being ironic here using "sheeple" because I listen to Indie music and wear square, thick-framed glasses) can clearly see the path chosen by the more intelligent and handsome individual leading them: me. However, there is more to this title than meets the eye thanks to the obscurities of the English language. On first read, it seems I am the Star who is guiding the implied sheeple - NOT SO, FUNKY READERS. I am so far ahead that I guide the star of the 21st century: Ken Jennings. If you have some kind of heart condition that causes your heart to stop after reading something overwhelmingly awesome, you'd be dead after reading the title, but even so, do not read any further. I present to you proof that Ken Jennings calls me sensei:

Ken,

In response to your request for map projection suggestions, I submit the Waterman Butterfly projection for reasons of aesthetics as well as a tone of pretentiousness.

Cheers,

Nathan Jackson

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Love the Waterman Butterfly!  Except for maybe Antarctica.

Ken

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Gentlemen,

What you behold with thine own ocular organs is in fact an email from one Kenneth Wayne Jennings III to yours truly, apropos of the Waterman Butterfly map projection.

SUCK IT,
Nathan Jackson

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

That last email there might as well have been to you. Henceforth, consider it so. As for the other titles, it's really your own fault if you thought that I am structured enough to really BS my way through 5 of these things.

SUCK IT,

Nathan Jackson

Saving Your Family's Lives Just in Time for T-Day+4

If you have ever thought about heating up some leftover turkey in the microwave after Thanksgiving, STOP!

http://www.emfhealthalert.com/?p=231

What would we have done without Holly? I'll tell you: Died. We would have died, reader. But don't think the horror stops there:

http://www.emfhealthalert.com/?p=241

UgonnawatchNFLfootballafterturkeydinner? Nope. Ujustgonnadie.

I'll leave you with those two horrific thoughts and one upbeat one. The portmanteau of the day, brought to us by Holly from our friends at emfhealthalert.com, is "electrosmog". To wit:

http://www.emfhealthalert.com/?p=249 [6:45]

Your big brothers here at Gombler wish you a happy, and most importantly, SAFE, Thanksgiving, free of electrosmog.

A picture of 6 different bears lasering a hole in this boy's index finger.

Nathan Jackson

Stalwarts of Gombler: Yukon Cornelius

Please, consider the following:

I have spread my dreams under your feet, tread softly for you tread on my dreams. - W.B. Yeats

This fog's as thick as peanut butter! - Yukon Cornelius

Thank you.

Let us transcend now into an appreciative countenance as we reflect on those people, places, things, and cryptids that are frequently brought up in conversation amongst the Gombler team and more or less waste everyone's not-so-precious time. This particular revolution about the earth's axis brings us the curious case of Cornelius comma Yukon. Cut to picture.

That's the fellow.

Born to a family of little means in the tiny town of Bissett, Canada, Yukon dropped out of school at a young age. He spent his teenage years working the clay part-time at a brickyard (an occupation he would later reflect on as "ironic") and running peppermint for the local crime lord known only as "The Candy Man". Unbeknownst to both Yukon and the Candy Man, they would become responsible for the town's hendiadys moniker of "Vigor and Verve", respectively.

Yukon soon discovered that those employed by the Candy Man, were owned by the Candy Man. Yukon's parents, Klondike and Saskatchewan, fell ill shortly after Yukon's 17th birthday.  As the medical bills piled up, Yukon had no choice but to accept the Candy Man's seemingly generous offer of financial help. Predictably, once his parents had recovered, the Candy Man kidnapped them both in the middle of the Canadian night (around 2:30 PM), leaving only a note scribbled on a Tootsie Roll wrapper demanding 2.5 million troy ounces of gold and 3.5 million troy ounces silver bullion in exchange for his parents' lives.

At his wit's end, the normally bombastic Yukon quietly left Bissett the next morning about two months later to begin a career in the booming field of acting. Taking the screen name "John Candy" on orders from his new master, Yukon soon became a star. Illustrate.

John "Yukon Cornelius" Candy

 

After 21 years of  sending his earnings to the Candy Man to pay for extensions on his parents' lives, Yukon realized that because he was paid in Canadian dollars, he would never be able to come up with enough money to buy the precious metals as an actor. The author opines that perhaps it took Yukon 21 years to figure this out because he dropped out of school at a young age. Thusly and righteously, Yukon proceeded to feign his own death by heart attack and, acting on a hot tip from an old prospector, turned to prospecting the deep north for the gold and silver he so desperately needed. Image, as an imperative.

That's the chap.

 

You know the rest of the story. We've all heard the heartwarming tale of Yukon Cornelius' adventures with his rowdy friends in the snowcapped mountains closest to the North Pole. It is this author and his associated company's position that a little bit of Yukon Cornelius lives in all of us. Every time a man puts off shaving his face out of laziness, somewhere Yukon Cornelius is smiling.

Nathan Jackson

According to Bear

An excerpt from Obeardiah: the lore of how the sun came to be. To the tune of Master of Puppets:

Twas bird and bear as friend and equal
They burn the church, ignite the steeple
In all the world no terror found
As deep as when they'd raze the ground
In lasers, life, and winged flight
Mortal dif'rence came to light
The laser bear would never age
But birds doth pass like turning page
One battle last o'er darkened land
The bear doth fry our bird in hand
Soaring skyward, battle done
Ignited falcon is the sun


Nathan Jackson

Beta Bargain Bin

Hot from the wok! Extry extry! Extended fanfare!

Allow me to explain this present kerfluffle: all your hopes and dreams have come true. The Gombler Beta is here. Right now. Amongst us like a creepy ghost or Andy from accounting. Freaking Andy with his indie rock and League of Legends.

I feel as though the program is pretty easy to use, but hey, I created the thing. Look for Nate. I pretty much guarantee you a victory. To correlate my Starcraft 2 skill to a bear:

Ursus Thibetanus (giggle, Thibetanus)

We're getting a how-to video made this very day. It should be up this week on the site. So if you can't figure out how to use the program in the meantime, feel free to read the instructions more carefully.

Nathan Jackson

Feynman, a Fine Man

Before Richard Feynman was anybody of note, he was given the task to audit the progress of what would eventually become a uranium enrichment facility. It was the beginning of the Manhattan Project, and Feynman had no idea what he was doing. His first day into the audit, several high ranking military officers threw down technical drawings in front of him and, assuming, correctly, that Feynman was a genius, described in detail how this incredibly complex facility operated. Feynman was completely lost. He was a physicist, not an engineer. What were all these symbols? Are those boxes valves or windows? Suddenly, the army generals were finished speaking. "Do you have any questions or see anything we can improve on, Mr. Feynman?" 24 year old and incredibly handsome Feynman pretended to concentrate on a particular drawing. How could he find out if they were windows or valves without betraying his ignorance? So, he put his finger on one of the enigmatic boxes and announced "Look, if you had one shot, one opportunity to seize everything you ever wanted in one moment, would you capture it or just let it slip?"

And that's the story of how Sir Ricardo Suave Feynman, Esq. got laid every day of his life.

Hey what's on your sweater already? Oh, that's just mom's spaghetti.

"Feynman, a Fine Man" is an ongoing effort by the Gombler staff to compulsively obsess over Richard Feynman and his influence on contemporary lyrics.

Supple Depot

It has been brought to my attention that there is a supposed "typo" in one of our strategy segments. Let me be clear: I will not allow my team to take shortcuts when it comes to your, the reader's, experience at Gombler. It was suggested that we "simply fix" this typo. No. That is a shortcut. Surely an announcement containing a convoluted explanation as to why this is an acceptable quality level is the longer path of which many shorter paths may "cut" to a resolution. Furthermore, who are we to declare that these depots are not supple? Perhaps this was the author's intention and the fact that these supple depots provide supply is merely coincidental! If I were a zergling would I attack a depot made of a material so supple? Would I even know what supple actually means outside of a relatively socially acceptable compliment to a woman's bosom?

Henceforth and hitherto, all supple supply depots shall be interchangeably known as either descriptor, but not sans descriptor. That wouldn't do.

Nathan Jackson

In Which I, the Author, Speak of Matters Most Important

Be serious, dear reader, for just a moment. Let's sit down, you and I, and address that fear that has been lurking deep down in our souls for some time now: The new Blade Runner is going to suck. For your review:

Return of the Jedi - 1983
The Phantom Menace - 1999
Delta (years) - 16

The Last Crusade - 1989
Crystal Skull - 2008
Delta - 19

Superman IV - 1987
Superman Returns - 2006
Delta - 19

There are more examples, and George Lucas's name is probably attached to most of them, but the point is that long periods of time between a great movie and its sequel/prequel means that it is going to be terrible. I'm sorry it had to happen like this, but it needed to be said. Now we may move on to the more congenial topics.

To those individuals who play and follow the fantastical sports, be it fantasy baseball, football, or bull riding (it exists), you've perchance come across some statistic that you were unfamiliar with. Yes, such things as "sabermetrics" are definitely destroying or improving the beauty of our American pastimes! New statistical methods and analyses are growing more and more commonplace, probably. I can assure you that the Gombler team is well versed in all things statisticular and just plain ticular. We WILL be your guiding light through the fog of confusing numbers! Brad Pitt WILL look good in an Oakland A's uniform!

My new WAR++ metric factors in handsomeness

The large, well-lawyered company that created the real time strategy bonanza known as Starcraft, and its progeny Starcraft Jr. (SCJr) heralded the Junior vintage as the ultimate in online competitive gaming. A "sport" they called it. Well, all the cool sports and online competitors are getting in to the statistical analysis game while it's hot. Since the duty to lie to the general public has fallen unto me, I can assure you that Gombler will provide advanced statistics and trends from our vast database of user's games unless we don't. I envision a database that can tell the inquisitive mind what percentage of time the 7 Roach Push succeeds against diamond level opponents as well as delivering Taco Bell directly to your door. That is, the database will also deliver Taco Bell to your door. I can tell you with a high degree of certainty that the percentage of time the 7 Roach Push succeeds in getting Taco Bell to show up at your door is approaching 0, no matter how badly I wish it weren't true. Lagniappe graphic:

Nathan Jackson

The Most Vicious of Bears

There's more to Gombler than the sum content of everything on the site, excluding this blog. There is also this blog. In this sacred plot of webestate (portmanteau of the post), we may share with you our hopes and dreams for the future of Gombler or we may discuss the virtues of the majestic Ursa Lumen Columna. I just made that up with the help of Google Translate. He and I declare it to mean laser bear in Latin. If, nay, when these creatures assert their mighty power in high government positions, I can safely say that Gombler at least will welcome our new laser bear overlords. I give you my word that this will be a running theme for as long as we're not bored with it.

Enough about the future. Let's discuss what's growling out there in the woods presentlyish. This very day, as far as you know, I was proposed the following interrogative: Which is the most vicious bear? Of course, I correctly and voraciously bellowed URSUS MARITIMUS. Such a bear is strong, hardy, wily, and libertarian! Much to my chagrin, this impudent individual had the gumption to propose that the grizzly bear was in fact more worthy of this title. Not one to know things without also knowing how to use the infinite opinions of the internet to support being knowy, I presented a variety of easily found sources. Apropos, the following are, in fact, "sources", found easily:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Polar_bear
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Grizzly_bear

This is the quality of research you can expect from our top-tier company. Gombler: Answering your deepest questions as long as they're not too hard.

While we are on the subject of bears, and because I have the presence of mind to use said subject to segue into a humorous photograph of the teetotaler Ken Jennings, let's crush a misconception about bears. Bears don't hibernate in the winter. Guess who wrote that? Ken Jennings. Guess what he does? Crush misconceptions like he crushed little Susie at Disney trivia.

Nathan Jackson