MOCHA! and EVE Corps

Mmmmmm. I reviewed Michael Turback’s Mocha this morning. Good stuff. For various reasons the review also links to two other reviews in the blog: one on Turback’s Hot Chocolate, which I also highly recommend picking up a copy of, and one of a particular variety of Swiss Miss cocoa. The latter might seem an odd thing to review, but I do recommend reading Jeffrey’s accounting of it, as it’s quite hysterical.


In totally unrelated thoughts, since I don’t have much brainpower these days I’ve been playing a bit more EVE Online. It took me a while to find a corp. I tried one based on chatting for a while with the guy who was running it, but quickly discovered that while he was a decent guy, some of the other folks in the corp seemed to think it was a guys’ locker room in there. Things that guys won’t say in front of women in person because they’re far too offensive just fly past online; it often seems like when online, most guys assume everyone they run into is just like them in terms of age and gender, and speak on that assumption.

So, I dropped that corp. Not that the NPC corp was much better, but at least there it was easier to ignore people. I figured if I held out long enough I’d find something decent, and I think I finally have. My husband and I just ended up in a corp started by some retired military folk. Funny how I always end up gaming with military and retired military people. By and large so far they tend to be relaxed-yet-focused, and fun without being juvenile and offensive. After all, I don’t mind swearing and trash talk; it’s misogyny, racism and the like that I won’t stand for.

Edited to add: Courtesy of my new corp I’ve been introduced to the delights of 1,001 things Mr. Welch can no longer do during an RPG. It’s tough to pick excerpts with which to convince you to go take a look, because nearly every other item on the list is pretty damn funny. But these are my favorites of the last five minutes, so here you go:

412. I will not try to skip to the main boss dressed like a singing telegram.
521. I will not convince the entire party to play Amish for the cyberpunk campaign.
552. If my character’s drow wife finds I let my neice appear in a Gnomes Gone Wild Video, my death will not even warrant a saving throw.
579. “Pimp out my Death Star” is not a real show, and I’d better believe Grand Moff Tarkin knows this.
616. Even if they are the same cliched acid for blood aliens, can’t load my shotgun with baking powder.
727. Cannot singlehandedly make Starfleet Academy the #1 party school in the Alpha Quadrant.


This is my alt

Posted in Cooking, Gaming, Writing

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