Tonight is the beginning of a new era of hurt I intend to inflict upon my friends — whether it’s from sniper fire across a canyon or blunt melee attack to the base of the neck. Yet despite the promise of punishment they are saving my place in line to pick up Halo 2.

You can safely assume that we will be skipping out the store, giggling like school girls, all the way to a friends place where multiplayer destruction awaits into the wee hours. And then at some point the sun will come up and remind us all that a real world exists beyond throwing someone off a moving vehicle only to turn around and frag them into the ground.

Now if I could just get over this flu, it will likely take a few days. Sadly, If more inoculations had been made available, I might have been able to work. I blame Nixon.