Ah, the bittersweet joys of moving; the parting with the old, the heady scent of the new, the tears and screams of rage, the huddled mass of frightened humanity that bunch together away from the pristine new walls, the vicious bitching that passes for happiness in Boston; we have arrived, and I type this from a new vista, a new frontier, etcetera.

But first, the news. An unfortunate young lady in Froganus, U.S.A., suffered what we all suffer at some point-theft and grievous loss. She was divested of her PS2, controllers, and a stack o’gaming goodness by an economic unfortunate with the need to pay the rent. This blighted soul, or perhaps we should say, self-motivated entrepreneur, viciously rampaged through this young lady’s house by the devastatingly evil method of sliding open the porch door. He hightailed it to Electronic Boutique and sold the goods for well over six dollars. He went to EB, which is, for those who a) don’t spend loads of cash on video games, or b) never leave the house to buy anything except liquor, a middle-American chain of Blinkengadget/video game stores that do not run id checks on people who wish to sell them goods. The victim, subsequent to her reporting the theft to the police, sallied into EB and bought her goods back for $87.50 more than the thief had gotten for them.

Now, this story, which I swear I didn’t get off Slashdot, is interesting for a number of reasons. One, what kind of brainless crackhead thinks they can pay their rent with PS2 equipment? And what kind of slobbering imbecile gets so jittery for her 64 bit interactive nonsense she goes and pays for her own stolen property? How indignant can we really get at stupidity like that?

There is high dudgeon amongst the spoiled, who feel that EB should have done more to protect this divan spud from a mildly depraved retard. EGWPATF would like to note exactly how dastardly it was of EB to not molest their customers in any way in the course of business. Can you imagine the nerve, not asking for identification, proof of residency, and DNA samples before trafficking in children’s entertainment? And to top it off, they wanted proof, actual proof, that the stolen goods were really stolen before giving them away! Horrifying.

On Moving: I liked the doors with locks, the dirt, the peeling paint and the quick access to the outdoors I had before. I will trade that, however, for the slightly insane feeling of working in a Counterstrike map come to life. Seriously, any second now, I expect a badly pixilated man with a RPG to bound through my line of sight, leaping into space over my office railing, shouting, “U lam3rz r u5ing 0ttoAiM!!!! U Sux0r b1gt1m3!!!

Seriously, though, it’s cool. Anyone for lasertag?