Day 85: Can't Stop This Feeling Anymore?

For crying out loud, these PETA people are so lame, this is unbelievable. Stop sending me your gosh darn sappy emails, PETA! So what if Reavers are people? You don't think there's bad people out there that are hurtin' for a good killin'? What if I promise to only eat tofu -- will you let me spill some 哑巴 reaver blood then? Gaw, come on, people. I'm already done sharpening all my knifes and all my weapons and grenades are in their charging stations. Heck, I've even asked Zoe if she wouldn't mind washing my clothes for me. It bein' not my month for getting clothes washed, but I figured after the mess in my last post about figurin' out what to wear that I'd at least smell good when I did my killin'.

Here's a nice photo that I got off the comm grid from some of my buddies who'll be joining me on Day 0. Lookin' forward to it, fellas! This here's Marissa who's very handy with the flame thrower. This is the Reaver gear she's going to wear when the big day falls upon us. You're lookin' mighty scary Mar! A site to behold! I wanna squeeze you real hard and plant a kiss on your open sores.

Day 86: Dress

Someone suggested that I could slip by the reavers by dressing up as them and kinda walkin' like them so as not to arouse suspicion. Yes, I had to have the computer look up how to spell suspicion, so don't look at me like that you 驴! Okay, now where was I? Oh, right right. Give me a few minutes and I'll post up a video I took of the skivvies I may be sportin' when the big day arrives!

Day 87: Addressing Your Comments

Shoot, ain't nobody reading this thing? Come on! I'm still doin' this thing.

Day 88: What am I going to do with the dead reaver's stuff?

I think I need to hit up the Container Store. It occurred to me that I'm gonna have a 粪便 pile of dead Reavers personal possesions once I get to the end of this 90 days. I was thinkin' maybe eBay would be a good idea, but I hate going through boxes of stuff that ain't mine. I'm not much of a hoarder, myself, so I'd be mighty surprised if I picked off anything from a dead Reave-head. I'm not saying that a nice Reaver hatchet won't make it into my bunk, but you can count me out as far as wanting any of their ugly garments. Come to think, how is it that these fellas are able to keep organized enough to where they can have uniforms to wear in the first place. It's like a band of crazy people somehow had enough sense to put together crazy people uniforms. So, whatever, I'm going with my first idea and selling whatever goods I get to prospects on eBay. Man, now that I'm thinking a bit more on the subject, I'm really mad that I can't leave feedback for sellers now. Geesh. Maybe I should do something about the morons at eBay before I start up with the Reavers.

Day 89: What's up with shaving?

I was figurin' out my look for when I go in to kill the Reavers in 89 days. I figured I'd forego something with any color on it and go for straight black. Reavers don't need to be lookin' at my pretty defensive wear, anyway, right? So this got me thinkin' about whether or not I should have a clean shave or not when the big day comes. I'm a stubble man, myself. Heck, I can't recall the last time I didn't have something growin' on my face at some point -- facial blemishes not withstandin'. I'm thinkin' I'll stick with my current look at try to keep things clean and trim in the meantime. Don't need any hair cutting stuck in my flash rifle while I'm sticking filthy Reavers with it.

Day 90: The Decision

I'll figure this blogging thing out, okay, because if I can take apart a 4GH gamma gun in 20 seconds, I should be able to post something on this 见鬼 blogger thing. It's day 90 for crying out loud. No, wait, wait... it's T minus 90 days. Ah, whatever... day 90 it is. I'm writing about all the reavers I plan to kill when the cap gets the ship in drydock in a few months. How'd I get this idea, you might be askin'? I was with some friends and we were watching a repeat of the infamous Superbowl 2009. That's the one where the Manning boys get together and solve the mystery of the missing football jersey during halftime. Damn good game that one was. So, I was thinkin' that I needed my own adventurin' to keep me occupied. I've looked all over the 'verse for something similar to those bygone times. Meh, the next best thing was South Korean Secret Soccer. Those guys were crazy -- they'd use a steel ball and you'd have to shoot at it with an AK-47 to score. Very slick. So, right, right... losin' my focus again. I'm gonna kill me some Reavers in 90 days. That's the plan and there's nothin' you can do to talk me out of it! It's not a suicide mission, right? I'm coming back, dammit.