Corpse Run 254: Ph.Deadly
This type of situation goes down in one of a few ways, and they are as follows:
1. Medic doesn’t deploy uber despite the fact that we have run into a room full of turrets, we both die.
2. As we turn the corner to take out a sentry, medic deploys uber, but doesn’t run infront of the heavy to draw off the turrets. This results severe damage reduction as the heavy does less damage the further away he is. Unable to take out the turret(s) before the uber is up, and not having done enough damage to clear house after the uber is finished beforehand, we both die.
3. The medic gets ambushed from behind and, rather than popping the uber in order to stay alive, the medic attempts to save the uber, but dies instead.
Stuff happens, and I get that, but when these situations occur, I am always at a loss.
Good thing the Spy put me out of my misery.
For those of you who attended the livestream last Thursday, you already know that my sister just graduated from graduate school, and now has a totally neat Master’s degree. Cool! Congrats to her.
Normally I’m not too big on going to graduations; they are long, boring, totally meaningless ceremonies, as the student graduates whether or not s/he attends. This is what I was expecting heading into my sister’s grad school graduation.
I was wrong.
Her class was only 12 people, and took place in a small room. After being pointed in the right direction by… and usher I guess… I walked through the door to see…
Wine. An entire three tiered shrine to wine. I looked at my mother, who gave a wry smile.
Excellent; this event was now designated as drink-friendly.
Mother approved.
As if the free wine wasn’t enough, servers appeared through a door carrying trays of smoked salmon, fancy chicken stuff, chicken empanadas, dumplings, these little roll things filled with fish, and miniature hamburgers.
Seriously, little hamburgers. A tiny burger between a mini bun complete with lettuce and some dressing.
On a stick.
Now, this was a business school graduation, and here I was drinking and eating like a guy who doesn’t do much of either… which I more or less am (debatable). I felt like a poor guy who crashed a fancy ball (not debatable).
I jokingly said to my mother that, now more than ever, I felt as though I didn’t belong in the same room as these people.
She asked me why I felt that way.
“Because in the last four days, I haven’t worn anything more than a pair of underwear.”
I feel as though that was a pretty solid answer.
Once the speeches started I taped the ceremony with my sister’s phone. If she chooses to watch everything that was recorded, she will be treated to:
– 30 seconds of the back of a bald man’s head
– Some random woman that kept getting in the way when I tried to get of shot of my sister
– A friend of my sister who, after I finally got a good group shot, started scratching her crotch, forcing me to point the camera back to the boring speeches
Apparently getting a Master’s degree does not include developing a sense of modesty.
Mmmm, sliders on sticks . . . .