SAN JOSE, CA - Today in downtown San Jose, W2News.com operative and reporter Branden was putzing around his place of worship, when something disasterous happened. Being downtown, and a block away from Bellermine Christian Boys High School, the sounds of wheels screeching is not uncommon. However, when after approximately 20 seconds, the screech was not ending, Branden's senses improved, he perked to attention, and he switched into 'reporter' mode.|
Nearly 30 minutes after Bellermine High had been dismissed, many students were still mulling around near the campus. Friday marked the first rain in some time, making the roads slick, and was also the first day before a three-day weekend. So it came as no surprise to hear cars peeling out around the Temple. However, one driver served as a prime example of what not to do. While the reporter was witness only to a minimal amount of the damage, the sound went something like this: screeeeeeeeech bump crash screeeeech bang splat screeeeeech boom crunch ptwang crumble crunch screech bang boom crunch.
As illustrated in the following diagram, here is the intrepid reporter's summarization of what occured after interviewing witnesses. As you can see in the diagram, the driver was taking the turn far too wide than is safe. Coming around the turn, the driver claimed he was travelling a mere '25 miles per hour', however a study notices that it does not take 350 feet and a wall to stop a car moving at that speed.
The car not only smashed a parked car over the curb and 270 degrees around, the car also plowed five feet through the front of a house. The car in question was a newer Ford Mustang, with three passengers. None were injured, however the driver's "friends" ditched the crash site as soon as they got out of the car.
The reporter's car, although close to the accident, escaped harm or police questioning.
Wire Services that are there when it happens
Branden on 9/1/00. McSneer: Wait, how exactly would you question a car?
Of all the W2News.com staff and affiliates, I appear to be the youth of the group. Many of the "behind-the-scenes" guys are off on the magically tragic independance trip that is college while I'm stuck back in senior year with the trogladitic weirdos I'm fortunate enough to call peers.
Every day of tourture of backpacks with idiots and fruity teachers *cough* Mr. Delaney *cough* brings me closer to replaying a scene from One Flew Over the Coocoo's Nest. The homework hasn't gotten to me yet, but it's only the first week. With only 5 classes who meet 2-3 times a week each, I'm sure homework is going to fill in the void that teachers have to make us work every day. You may think 2-3 classes a day is cake, but at 100 minutes each, it's no differant to people with "normal" scheduals.
The following is a list of classes and descriptions:
Trigonometry/Pre-Calculus; Reasonable, intelligent, fair teacher. The book is titled Advanced Mathmatical Concepts, does it get any more vauge than that? So far, my best class.
English 4 (CLC): Largely flamboyant, male teacher who constantly is using excessive hand gestures. (sexuality in question). The senior project is the famous goal of this class, although I think two weekends would make a decent report. Books a plenty, more books than you could carry. I hate writing essays, expecially 3-page essays in under 30min.
Chemistry: Teacher is a total fruit cake; blows stuff up. His room smells. My second best class.
French: Teacher makes you feel like you just violated obscure French laws every time you speak. Walking into class feels like walking into a foreign country; no one makes sense in any launguage, you are constantly an outcast, and you check your wallet every few minutes to make sure it's still there.
Government/Economics: Clearly the most obcentric teacher of all. She rules her class like a 13th century monarch. She even has tattoos. Her manner makes me wish there was a place I could hide, and I'm annoying in class; always shouting out wise-cracks. But even I think, "Geez, calm down and do some serious work, will ya?"
On "B" days I get out before lunch, it's refreshing but with substnace, like Gatorade with meat in it.
Frederf on 8/31/00. McSneer: Hmm... I wonder who that English teacher is?
Well, due to popular demand (and because I have a free evening), I've decided to give W2News.com's long overdue review of the Compaq Presario 5BW160.
To start off, let me just quote off the side of the computer itself (yes, you read that right. I still have yet to remove the Compaq label; my personal brand of laziness continues to reach new, unfounded heights).
As you can see by the gibberish of figure 1, "I gotz a PHATE COMP, BOYZ!!!!1!1" Well, sort of; see, there's no dedicated video memory in this cratchety piece of crap, so the highest resolution I can run right now is 1024×768. However, this is a problem that can easily be fixed with my next paycheck.
Yes, good ol' money. The proverbial bread on the table; hopefully it doesn't get moldy. See, no matter how wonderful money can seem, it also brings about many neccessary encounters with those unsavory blood-sucking thieves more commonly known as "Circuit City Sales Clerks." Garbed in cheerful red jackets, they gather together behind the projection TV's. I had to remember to remain sober and vigilant; this particular breed of salesmen is known to hunt in packs. Silently, they scheme and plot in the shadows, waiting...
The one that finally speared my wallet's heart didn't even really have to work for it. In fact, with my huge wad in hand, I practically opened up the vein for him.
Him: "Oh, so you know what you want?"
Him: "Is it the twenty? the thirty? the sixty? IT'S THE SIXTY!"
Him: "The 5BW160! Oh, please God, let it be in stock!"
*he scurries off to the terminal, arms flailing behind him*
I guess he doesn't get out much.
What I didn't know going into the situation, and probably the only part of the experience that I would like to repeat if I could, is the way that Circuit City handles Consumer Pick-Up. I gleefully walked to the front desk, finally free of the first true "shifty eyed salesman" I've ever come across. Coming to a halt just in front of the lovely lady watching the desk, I tilted my head slightly, smiled, and held out my receipt to show that I just made a high dollar purchase. I don't remember exactly what she said/mumbled, but I was quickly escorted into a TOP SECURITY AREA, also known as "the Pick-Up Zone."
"But where is 'the Pick-Up Zone'?" I remember asking.
"Over here," she explained, vaguely pointing to the right and continuing to walk me out the door.
Following through a series of hallways, I soon came to what seemed like a small clean room. Its hastily painted white walls stood silent to each side; the room was completely empty, apart from a small black floor mat near the only other door, to my left. The automatic sliding glass shut behind me and made a horrible crunching sound as the locking mechanism swung into place; the sales lady had disapeared through a side exit, and I stood alone, in a cold, white room.
After what seemed like an eternity, a small Mexican man peered through the window at the top of the door. He beckoned me over to him, and hid his face behind what I could see was my receipt.
"What's your last name?!" he demanded. I realized he was trying to berify my identity.
"Uh..." realizing I should sound a little more confident, I cleared my throat. "...Lemmon."
The Mexican man disapeared. Did I blow this? Had he bought it? Without my receipt, I have no way of proving I just paid for this computer! Millions of thoughts ran through my mind in the long moments in that empty, white room.
The door made a swooshing sound as it violently thrust open to allow this man to wheel out a hand truck, my computer in tow.
When I finally got the sucker home, I macheted through layer after layer of cardboard and styrofoam, until I could finally gaze at the beauty of a new Compaq Presario in the unforgiving light of the Friday afternoon sun. Peace, contentment, realization that I just blew my entire savings on a few pounds of metal and silicon, flooded my innermost being; that is to say, my checkbook.
Was it worth it? I suppose. But my computer still won't run Age of Empires! I just don't understand it...
Now is it just me, or did IGN just steal my color scheme?
Earlier today I was overjoyed to find out that IGN64 was going to update tonight with an exclusive announcement dealing with the name of Nintendo's newest console, codenamed Dolphin.
I knew if I just stopped checking these blasted Nintendo sites daily that the second I get back they would reveal some major secrets. Anyway, enough of my garbage, the new Nintendo console is almost certainly going to be called the Nintendo Game Cube. Or Nintendo Cube. Or Game Cube. ...Whatever.
Apparently, to hide their tracks, Nintendo has been using a "front" company to buy their domains for them. The domains owned by Nintendo include: nintendocube.com, nintendocube.org, nintendogamecube.com, and gameqube.net. The ball was dropped when someone realized that this same front company just happened to own the domain names of over 100 pokémon characters. So, you know what that means? Why am I wasting time here?? I should be off registering NINTENDOCUBE.NET!!!
See, I, unlike many other Nintendo gamers, really liked the StarCube name rumor. As well, I liked the name Nintendo Dolphin, so I was thrilled to hear that the big N is using a sort of combination of the two. Nintendo Cube, it's the future. Now, for the new slogan; no more of that "Get N or get out" crap, let's hear it for "Touch Nintendo!"