It’s going to be totally rad bros. 36 hours in the middle school auditorium, and no supervision other than the middle school computer teacher and the janitors at night. I’m so excited! It’s going to be me and 50 fellow gamers playing Counterstrike, Unreal Tournament, and even classics like Warcraft 3. And the best part is, I even heard there were going to be some girls playing!

My buddy Jeff said that he overheard Kristi Andersen say she was going to come with some of her friends from the other high school in town and they were going to show us boys what’s what. I doubt that but we’ll see! I can’t wait to play against some of the girls in a couple of matches, instead of when I normally play against girls online but it turns out that it’s really my third period math teacher pretending to be a girl on the internet. Boy was that time embarrassing! But he promised me an A if I don’t tell anyone about it.

I’m going to own some scrubs with my special gaming keyboard that my grandma got me for Christmas. And everybody’s going to be jealous when I change my wallpaper to the picture of the naked elf chick that mom doesn’t know I have hidden in the C:\Documents and Settings\Owner\My Documents\Fax\ folder. But mom’s not going to be there to see it this weekend!

But anyways, other than all the fun we’ll be having gaming, there will also be all the Mountain Dew and Bawls and Monster we can drink, and the middle school computer teacher is going to buy us all pizza the first night, so we’ll have plenty of energy to play! Which is very important, because you have to keep your energy up for when the matches get real intense. Jeff is even going to bring a 12-pack of Mountain Dew Gamer Fuel that he’s been saving ever since they stopped making it, just special for this weekend.

I’m telling you, this weekend is going to rock!

I could write a fucking spreadsheet app in my sleep. And it would be under 128 bytes, let me tell you. These pansy-ass motherfuckers have no idea what it’s like to have to fit your entire porn collection on a floppy disk. I was downloading tits over a 300 bit per second smart modem from a BBS before these assholes knew how to suckle their own mommy’s teats. Fucking snot-nose punks around me, I tell you.

These assholes get all bitchy too when they run out of Rock Starz and Ballz and Mountain Dew in the fridge. Those pussies wouldn’t even know what to do with themselves if they had to mix Coca Cola and hot coffee, they way we did around the old Deltaur offices back in my day. And we liked it. God damn kids.

I was dining there one dark eve a fortnight ago with my lady love, Mistress Magdalene Beau Ravensclaw, when they did turn us out before we did finish our sup. We had arrived that dreary night not more than eight hours past the noon, an adequate time for feasting before a night of witching, and the wretched hostess dared say that the buffet closed within the half hour! We did walk past the salad bar with haste, stopping only for chocolate mousse and bananas in Jell-O, and went forth to the wonders of the entree buffet before us.

Alas the miserable serfs of the establishment had already removed the roast from the buffet for the evening! My lady love had been truly looking forward to dining upon carved roast beef, to feel the gravy run down her throat as would the blood of an innocent. She did gnash and beat her breast in anguish, and settle for the hearty lasagna. The chocolate mousse did touch my lady love’s baked potato, causing her more anguish. Why ye demons cannot the buffet have compartmented plates for the true dining enthusiast!? I must confess though, we did dine upon many fried legs of chicken with gusto. And I did savor truly the meatloaf after reciting an incantation honoring the beast that did give its lifeblood for our sup.

I did let out a virile complaint ‘pon discovering that they were bereft of Diet Dr Pepper. I was made to quaff my thirst with orange soda. Fear the day that I shall happen upon you, manager Ted Ralston! Fear it well. Lament the fact that your soft serve machine was b’witched and could only produce vanilla. Mistress Magdalene despises vanilla, and will only top her brownie with chocolate. I did hear no end to her vitriol that night, for her dinner was to be ruined by a poxy dessert of more bananas in Jell-O.

Once great though you were, Olde Country Buffet, ye have fallen from my graces. May my dark soul never cross through your cursed doors again I say!

What prompted this change, you might ask. Well I’ll tell you what. Jeff Michelson’s sister, that’s who. Jeff is a senior at my school, and he’s a real fag. He’s always slapping me on the back real hard and calling me Wussaker and reminding me that my mom is hot. Not that I’ve looked. I mean I saw her coming out of the shower once when I was fourteen and I was all “Mom! I’m playing Grand Theft Auto 2, quit walking around naked!” Mom totally knows who’s really in charge of the house. Anyways, one day, Jeff Michelson beat me up after school one day. It was nothing serious, like I have a bunch of bruises and stuff, and my mom thinks I cracked a rib, but whatevs, I’m 17 now which makes me totally a man, so I just take it.

Anyways, his sister, who is a freshman, saw what happened and totally felt bad for me. She invited me over and gave me some Five Alive, then we went up to her room. She’s kind of chunky, but you know, the Steve sometimes likes them that way. We were sitting on her bed, drinking Five Alive and watching My Super Sweet 16, when all of a sudden she took her retainer out and kissed me. I was confused, but Steve is cool and confident, so I put my tongue in her mouth. After a couple of minutes of this I put my hand up her sweater. That’s right, I totally felt a boob. I think she liked this so I reached around to undo her bra. I couldn’t quite reach around her so I had to move a little. And that’s when I found out, bras are hard man! I kept pulling at the clips but I couldn’t get it. Then she heard the garage door opening which meant her mom was home. I had to sneak out the window and run home.

The old Steve was a loser, always getting pushed around. But not the new Steve. Oh no. The new Steve is ready for anything. The new Steve has felt a boob. And when Jeff sees me at school tomorrow, I’m going to tell him. “You might think you can just push me around whenever, but you know what, I’ve felt your sister’s boob. And you hitting me can’t change that.” We’ll see how he likes that!