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Puncherson_64LadyBrain_64

No real spoilers for Red Dead Redemption 2

Butch:

Well, needless to say, didn’t play. I am starting to feel like myself again, though. Choked down a sandwich last night, got some sleep, no longer always freezing, etc. So now that I can safely conclude that all five us NOW have had this, I can make up for lost time gamewise.

But here’s some FITNESS!

It shows you might have a problem when one of the worst things about a stomach bug is the terrible, TERRIBLE headache you get the next day because you couldn’t drink coffee.

Now, people might think the FITNESS thing here is a tip that you shouldn’t get so dependent on caffeine that you spend a whole day suffering terribly when you can’t drink it. But please, people. We might be a little unusual here at PFTL, be we aren’t crazy.

I’m just complaining. It’s how we do.

This is good coffee right here.

Feminina:

It is how we do! I mean, all our complaints about video games could be easily addressed in our own lives by just not playing them, but that’s a ridiculous idea. Complaining is much more interesting.

Butch:

T SHIRT!!!!

This is very good coffee. I’m gonna get more.

Feminina:

Excellent. I’m glad you’re able to enjoy the delicious little things in life once more. It’s a sure sign of being nearly well enough to play and complain about games!

I played some, but we’ll talk about it later.

Butch:

Yes, later. Have to replenish my stamina core.

Gotta get some canned sweet corn.

Feminina:

Don’t forget that jar of salted offal! Always gives a nice boost.

Butch:

Nothing gets you over a terrible stomach bug like salted offal!

You know, I still have that in game, just because I can’t even bring myself to make Arthur eat it.

Feminina:

I know what you mean! I actually had him eat it the other day just because I was thinking “I can’t throw it away because I might need it for health sometime, and yet I can’t stand to look at it, so–down the hatch it goes!”

Arthur made no comment, and it gave him a bit of health, but I made a face.

It’s probably no worse than haggis, when you think about it. Which I will continue to try not to do.

Butch:

Dude, I’m not entirely over this bug. No need to be more nauseating.

Let’s stick to canned sweet corn.

Feminina:

Maybe some assorted biscuits.

Butch:

Them, too.

I can’t believe we’re talking about food, today of all days.

On game food, I want props: the best food is the oatcakes, yes? Restores a bunch of stuff. And yet, I haven’t eaten but one.

I save them for Roach.

I’m such a softie.

Feminina:

I like to save them for the horse, too! Apples too. Because I love my horse.

Right now I’m working on bonding with a new horse, just for a change and to give my last one a break. I’d been riding that pinto that you pick up at the very beginning of the game, but then I found this other horse that originally belonged to a guy I met on a debt collecting quest, and I rode it for a while until it became mine, and then stabled…uh…’Tennessee Walker’ the pinto (have you found out how to rename a horse that you don’t buy, just acquire somewhere?). Who, incidentally, I don’t believe is actually a Tennessee Walker, unless there’s some special trick to unlocking his trademark gait. But hey, I can’t be bothered, and he’s still served me well and deserves a break in a nice cushy stable while I ride ‘Morgan’ around. Also a breed name, but I figured one that Arthur would be naturally drawn to.

I tried to get a ‘Shire’ (one of the big carthorses) last night, but couldn’t seem to get to a point where I could brush or feed it to induce bonding, and then there was a cutscene after which I was back with Morgan. I just kind of wanted one of the big ones! In case I need to plow some fields, or ride into battle in full plate mail! Another time.

Butch:

Roach LOVES sugar cubes. Those are for special occasions. Like surviving a gun fight.

I think you can do everything horse in the stables, including renaming them. I don’t know. I haven’t looked into it, as Roach is perfect the way he is.

And it is a he.

Only thing I’ve used the stables for is retrieving Roach one time when he got lost. That’s handy.

Feminina:

Are you SURE it’s a he? Does Arthur say “whoa, boy” and the like? Because that expensive horse was definitely a mare when Mr. O’ bought it.

Not that it couldn’t be coded to be randomly one or the other, given it makes no real difference in gameplay.

And not that I care one way or the other, really. I believe there’s a long history of depicting great generals and so forth on their favorite horses and portraying the horses as stallions even if they weren’t, because it’s so much more manly. So, you know, hallowed tradition, family values, etc.

Butch:

He certainly says boy all the time. Every time.

Maybe Roach’s very long tail is confusing him.

Feminina:

No, no, I believe Arthur. He undoubtedly knows more about it than either of us, so if he says ‘boy,’ it’ll be a male.

My first two were ‘boy,’ but Morgan is ‘girl.’ They’ve all served me equally well.

I mean, aside from the fact that Morgan did kick me to death when we first met. I don’t hold it against her–I was a total stranger after all. And now I can feel confident she will also kick to death any random stranger who tries to steal her from me. At least until they hit square to ‘calm’ a few times and feed her some apples.

Butch:

You’ve done the tame thing? I have not. Every time I see a wild horse I think about it, then I can hear Roach being all “Don’t even think about it.” So I feel guilty and give him a beet.

Feminina:

Yeah, this was the first time I did it in a sustained enough way that it actually worked. I figured ol’ Tennessee Walker deserved a break, and there was this other horse all abandoned…not ‘wild,’ exactly, I’ve never captured an unsaddled horse and made it mine, but this one…let’s just say her master had fallen prey to an unfortunate accident and would not be needing her anymore.

And I may have been right about Tennessee needing a break, because when I took him to the stable the guy was all “have you even been feeding him?!”

To which I indignantly responded “of course! Well…sometimes. When I have a handful of sage available.”

It’s not my fault, I ran out of biscuits a long time ago! I brush him all the time, though.

Butch:

Oh, that’s cold. Implied horse abuse.

Just go off trail from time to time and load up on wild carrots. Roach loves them. Not as much as sugar cubes, but loves them.

Feminina:

Yeah, that accusation cut me to the quick. I know I don’t remember to feed Arthur enough, but neglecting his horse? I would never!

Not on purpose, anyway.

Butch:

Not your fault. No matter what, the food in the old west had no calories. I’ve been actively trying to beef up Arthur and nothing. All the stew, chocolate and catfish on earth can’t do it.

You got no hope if all ya got is carrots.

Feminina:

So true. It was a hard time. Their chocolate bars must have been the size of postage stamps, and/or as much sawdust and candle wax as food (this was, after all, before the advent of food safety regulations).

You couldn’t get fat if you tried! And you did!

Butch:

I had, like, five plates of catfish at that place in Rhodes! And nothing!

Small portions, I guess.

Maybe I should just camp and eat all my meat. If that doesn’t work, what will?

Why are we talking about this today? I’m still not 100%.

Feminina:

Outlook’s suggested responses:

“I don’t know.”
“I will tell you later.”
“It’s a mistake.”

I actually kind of like all of those!

“I don’t know” is quite true, “I will tell you later” suggests I have a sinister motive that will be revealed (suspense!) and “It’s a mistake” is also true and an all-around good answer to many things.

Make Arthur have a nap. Maybe he’s just tired.

Butch:

Those are good!

I still don’t get suggestions! I wonder why.

I always forget to sleep.

T SHIRT!!!

Sorta like pomade. I think I might do some pomade before checking out the Grays. Wanna look legit.

Feminina:

I usually forget to sleep too. No wonder we can’t gain weight! We’re running ourselves ragged here!

I usually also forget to shave. But I did find some hair pomade! Doesn’t make a lot of difference considering I’m always wearing a hat, but it’s a nice thought.

Butch:

Well, Mrs. McP is home and has decided to make kimchi fried rice. If I can survive that smell, I’m ready to play.

Feminina:

A sound test. Good luck to you.

Butch:

And brownies. At the same time.

It’s an interesting combination of smells.

Feminina:

That’s…that’s very interesting, all right.

Good luck to you.

Butch:

She’s arranging M&Ms in straight, neat rows on top. Like a mosaic.

She saw it on Pinterest.

Feminina:

Of course she did.

She didn’t read our previous posts about that, did she?

Butch:

No. But I told her about what is her likely epitaph and she laughed. Then paused, and said “Yeah…..”

And the thing is, she makes me finish all this shit! She has to leave to read to Meatball at school, and won’t be able to finish her mosaic!

She’s even taking pains to make sure the M’s don’t show!

Feminina:

Wow. She is deep in the grip of Pinterest madness, that one.

Do you care to comment on your own dedication to making sure no M’s show?

Butch:

Sure. I’ll comment.

a) When Mrs. McP is happy, the kids are happy, and I am happy.
b) If I didn’t do it, she would do it when the kids were here, thus not spending time with the kids, thus making the kids unhappy, thus making me unhappy.
c) If I didn’t do it, Mrs. McP wouldn’t be happy, as she asked me to do it.

One must weigh the pros and cons. Sure, when you’re making sure each M&M is the right way up, you’re a little cheesed, but it saves much angst later. If there’s angst, I can’t play.

When you’re a stay at home parent, you gotta play the long game.

(I considered, for a brief moment, putting one M so it showed. Just one. Then I realized that would lead to even more angst. Might have been worth it, though.)

Feminina:

I respect your calculations, and the conclusions you draw from them. When you put it that way, yes, putting all the M’s facing down is a fair price to pay for angst-free game time.

Butch:

Long game, Femmy. Long game. Foresight.

It’s my job.

Feminina:

This is also prime relationship advice!

The secret to a happy marriage–both partners equally devoted to certain key projects. (Possibly for entirely different reasons, but whatever.)

Butch:

You know, our plans would likely come to fruition far more if we looked at them not as plans, but as strategies to quell rage. Or at least to quell rowdy disquiet.

Or not.

Feminina:

Hmm. This is an interesting thought. We’ll try it next time we’re tempted to plan and see how it goes.

Science!

Butch:

Yes! Science!

The science of rowdy disquiet.

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