Published by
M2J under
Friendly Advice on
July 20, 2005
Revised on Nov 19, 2007: Formally titled: How to make rooms in Smackdown Vs. Raw using a D-Link Router
This post is now a more the explanation of how to make game consoles with internet connectivity work with home network routers easily without playing with all the settings to intensely.
Well it’s the year of being more positive. So I figured, I’d help out those of you on the web who can’t make rooms in Smackdown Vs. Raw online using a D-Link router. I know, it’s not a rant, but hey, you don’t like it? F you!
So anyway, I got Smackdown the day it was released back in November. I ran home hooked it up and played. Suddenly I came across some bad news, everytime I made a room, it wouldn’t stick. People would try to join and they’d get booted. It sucked. I was devistated. I could join rooms, but not make them. This left me at the mercy of anyone who wanted to make a room. I needed to have the same abilities at them. First I turned my attention to the D-Link support page. No help there. Somehow, I came across a website just doing some learning as I am an geek and need to know everything. It listed the DMZ information for routers. DMZ = Demilitarized Zone. Basically, this means that whatever IP address you specify in the “DMZ” setting will be treated as if it has a direct connection to the internet, no router being used. So to do this, I first went to the router settings.
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Published by
M2J under
Rants on
July 8, 2005
When I was in the 2nd grade…things were arranged like this…we had 2 teachers. See, teachers upstate weren’t smart enough to teach us Math as well as English…as well as Science AND Social Studies. We had to be switching 2wice a day. Now, my MAIN teacher was Ms. Williams. She was nuts, no doubt about it. Then across the hall, is Ms. Wagner, the OTHER teacher…the one good at math. Now, this makes her a secondary teacher. I owe my 2nd grade education to Williams, Wagner just filled in the holes.
Fast Forward a year.
It’s not 1991. I’m 9, and in the third grade. It was a Saturday and my Little League baseball team (the Tigers) was going to have a practice. We liked practices. It made us stronger, faster, better. Anyway, I got there a tad early, so I headed over to the school playground, and figured I’d kill some time there. Who should come along with a storm cloud over her head, casting a fucking shadow over the whole god-damn afternoon, but Ms. Fucking Wagner. So I’m doing my thing on the playground…and suddenly, I had to spit…and spit I did. She looks at this from afar and approaches me, telling me that is “disgusting” and “not to do it again.” Then a little while later, I was down on the ground of the playground (we had a lot of wooden structures above the gravel). I picked up a fist of gravel. After throwing it, not at anyone, just in the air, to have a lil fun, the shadow returned. I turned around. IT’S MS WAGNER, SHE’S HERE! NO! NO! DAMN HER! Ms. Wagner actually had the balls to reprimand me again, and this time threaten me with disciplinary action! Let’s review what is wrong with this situation:
- It was Saturday
- I was in *THIRD* grade, not second
- She wasn’t my real second grade teacher anyway
- She’s a middle-aged woman, what is she doing in a playground for elementary schoolers anyway?
So I’m just trying to have some fun, and she’s coming out like the fucking Queen of England, “Don’t do this, don’t to that, rawr!” This was one of those stories which the more I thought about it over the years, the angrier I got when I realized she was completely wrong. Otherwise, I liked Ms. Wagner before that. After that moment, however, it changed. I saw her as a dark shadow casting it’s evil on my childhood. I felt her projecting what little power she had outside of her district. How dare she try to assert herself on a Saturday to me like that! Well now it’s 2005, a whole 14 years later…and I still remember as clear as a bell. Well as everyone knows, I don’t let things die without complaining bitterly, especially when I feel I was right. So if by chance, anyone feels like expressing their anger to Ms. Wagner, I made sure to find her EMAIL ADDRESS. I could leave you all her phone number, but I’ll let it stay at this level for now. I want anyone whose known me for a number of years to think back. If you ever wronged me … I warn you … I’m coming, and Hell’s coming with me!
-M2J
Published by
M2J under
Rants on
July 1, 2005
Cypress Hill, well known, but why? Insane in the Membrane? Well, bout a year ago, they came out with this song, “What’s Your Number?” Now I get a little behind on a lot of this junk (so in this case a year), but since it’s reached me finally, I HATE IT!
This fucking guy….
At first, I liked him. Why? This song seems like a great song, because the story it tells is promising and motivational…until this sorry son of a bitch completely separates himself from us, the little people, who just are completely beneath him and can only wish we had his life. I hope anyone reading this plans on never buying a Cypress Hill al…anything again. So let’s break down the lyrics of this song, line by line and take everyone through this story.
I met her a club, her friend liked me but she didn’t
She noticed a lot of girls giving up their phone digits
She didn’t wanna be one of those hoes
In clothes exploiting her body from head to toes
She had glossy lips she was swaying her hips
On the dance floor and every nigga’s flashing her grip
Trying to impress her in vain she gave no play
Niggaz hit her up for numbers and she said no way
I thought to myself let it go and roll on, B
But like Smokey said she really had a hold on me
I couldn’t stop staring I started to fantasize with her
Voices in my head said she’s tantalizing ya
Even if I moved to the other side of the party
I had pictures in my head of her moving that body
I was beside myself with hunger pain
So I slowly walked over and I asked her name
[Chorus:]
What’s your name, what’s your number?
I’d like to get to know you
Can we have a conversation?
The night is young, girl give me a chance!
So guys, we all been there, a girl you see somewhere is just radiant and you are gonna feel like the biggest chump if you don’t just TRY. So you put it off and put it off, growing more doubtful as you continue to let yourself think about it…the harder it gets to do. The song has a nice melody, so we think this is gonna be a nice story. …and so far, it’s moving along nicely. We get to this part and mentally, I’m cheering along, he sucked it up and did it, he’s the man. We now await the end of the first chorus to find out what happened next.
She gave a smile but I got no answer though
I took a while before she gave a chance she’s acting cold
I offered her a drink she turned me down blat
She said if you want my name you gotta do better than that
I said OK, now your shit don’t stink
I’ma walk away only tried to buy you a drink
As I began to walk away she said I’m sorry for real
But every guy in the club tried slipping me pills
I don’t trust guys each and every one will lie to you
I said I understand but it’s not what I try to do
I wasn’t even gonna come to your table
But if I didn’t I knew that I’d regret it later
I go after what I want but I got class
For me no need to slip a pill if I want ass
She gave me a funny look I couldn’t tell what it meant
She let her guard down and on our conversation went
[Chorus repeats]
Okay, so NOW … this lil tale is falling apart, but I’m still a believer! She seems to be actually interested. Maybe he has a shot? So he offers her a drink, and she says no. He BUGS OUT on her! Now…SOMEHOW, everyone in the club trying to get her attention fails, he however goes ape shit on her and she actually stops him and apologizes. Maybe she just didn’t want to drink at that moment asshole! So now he’s bragging about his classy self. She gives him a funny look! W00T! Is it because she’s warming up to him or is it because he’s speaking in rhyme and won’t stop??
She said I want a man with a plan and ambition
Not an immature nigga on a “pussy-hit mission”
I’m too good for that I have so much to offer
Got a good job working at my mom and dad’s law firm
You got goals, that’s what she asked
Yeah I wanna fill my home with platinum plaques
It takes hard work but you know it’s coming after
She said ‘oh my God you must be a famous rapper!’
I do all right but I’m never satisfied
I’m told when you still love what you do it never gets old
I strive for more but that’s enough about me
Why don’t we skip out the club and take a walk on the street
We slipped out of the club with no worries
Seems she wanted to get out in a hurry
We hung all night till we lost our friends
Till they caught us bangin in the back of a Benz
[Chorus repeats, song ends, Matt hates Cypress Hill]
Okay folks, I’m going to have to dissect this one closely. Let’s start with the first part, “I’m too good for that I have so much to offer, got a good job working at my mom and dad’s law firm.” Oooh, big fat hairy deal, mommy and daddy got you a job because you were too stupid to find your own way in life. So she’s a spoiled rich bitch, who is basically receiving allowance doing a, “good job” at a law firm, notice she didn’t say she’s a lawyer, she just works at the firm. She probably answers the phone and gets her dad coffee and her mom douche. Enough about that, let’s get back to him. “Yeah I wanna fill my home with platinum plaques. It takes hard work but you know it’s coming after…She said ‘oh my God you must be a famous rapper!’” First of all, all he said was “I want to….” He didn’t say “more platinum plaques.” How the hell does that allow her to conclude he’s famous? I wanna fill my home with Nobel Prizes, did I necessarily do anything yet? No! …then again, I forget, she’s uneducated and that’s why she begged her parents for a job. Moving right along then…
“I do all right but I’m never satisfied. I’m told when you still love what you do it never gets old. I strive for more but that’s enough about me. Why don’t we skip out the club and take a walk on the street…“
A nice romantic walk, they can get away from the crowded club, take a quiet walk and get to know each other…I can concur. But that’s not all is it? No he’s a famous rapper, now he has her attention.
“We slipped out of the club with no worries, Seems she wanted to get out in a hurry…” So she just wants to get out in a hurry because she met a guy that could be a real nice guy right? ….right?
“We hung all night till we lost our friends,” …oh dear, here’s where it all falls apart…“ Till they caught us bangin in the back of a Benz.“
Wow! Okay, so now we have just jumped that margin from Hero to the Brotherhood to Asshole of the Year. So this girl was blowing off every guy in the club. He goes up to her, has got a nasty attitude because she didn’t want a Long Island Iced Tea, then tells her he’s famous, and in a matter of hours, she’s banging this guy in the back of a very expensive car.
This guy…
Yes, this guy…
THIS FUCKING GUY!
Girls, don’t try and tell me he’s at all cute. He’s fat, he’s a jackass, and he closely resembles High Pitched Eric from Howard Stern, especially in the picture above with that dumb-founded “which way did he go George?” look on his face. Yet he gets the most special girl in the club, and even though she’s a classy lady with high standards and seemingly “so much to offer,” she shacks up with this guy as soon as he mentions the word “rapper” and segwayed into “Benz.” Why is this particularly annoying? Because, I was rooting for him. I thought he was one of us. He pulled out the “I’m a famous rapper” card, he couldn’t get we without it. I was able to relate to this man, suddenly, he’s a rapper. Where does that leave me? You know what this also showed me? How much music has changed. It seems like for a long time up to only a few years ago, music was about everyone and everything. Anyone could listen to a song and relate. …The songs were very general. They weren’t always about the ARTIST. Listen to any song, even though outside the recording studio, the Shangri-Las were successful musicians…inside that recording booth, she was just a heart-broken girl, who fell for “The Leader of the Pack.” Now when you buy an Eminem CD, most of the songs are Eminem’s biography or fantasy, in either case, he’s himself, and not someone trying to deal with a real problem that someone has, you know what? I miss relating to songs. Cypress Hill in my important opinion had a golden opportunity to make every guy feel like the have a chance, and they took the easy way out and showed us that what it REALLY takes is going into a club and being B-Real. Being “Insane in the Membrane.” Well I’m not insane, and my membrane is fine…that doesn’t even make sense now that I think about it. Cypress Hill belongs with Frank Sinatra, Elvis Presley and Nat King Cole…DEAD!
…and that is why I hate Cypress Hill.
