I'm looking at getting a full copy of Fraps for myself. But when I looked into it I noticed that they offer discounts for bulk orders for sites. So that got me thinking. Why not see who would be interested in a copy. The more people we get for this the cheaper FRAPS will be! So if you are interested in going in on a group license for Fraps please leave a comment below. Thanks!
I awoke early Wednesday morning, around noon, to find a message waiting in my Team-TCP inbox or, as I call it, my business email. It's the address I hand out while cruising for chicks - I'm yet to find one who's impressed.
I never cared much for the TCP emails; I find them to be shrewd, impersonal, and negative - like the one I received from SnideAugustine a few days earlier:
Dear Rocky,
I give up. If you can guarantee the safe return of my pet cat, Mittens, then I will grant you permission to use my likeness in your story, My Day with a Hugh Jackman Impersonator. You win. I hope this makes you happy, you sick, psychotic son of a bitch!
Despite what the history books may claim, ours was not a quest for money or change, nor was
it any sort of statement. No, it was simply a ravenous hunger that united us all and, to put it in simple
terms, the Great Hobo Uprising of 2005 had to happen.
It was a cold Monday morning when it all started. A deep fog had descended upon the streets like a blanket suffocating all life good and decent from this wretched city. The noises and smells muted, I made my way slowly into the alley. I looked down at the mangled corpse of a once proud archer of Florence, beaten and broken; his blood spilling into the gutter. The town archers had been stationed along the roof tops of the city ever since the attempted jail break a few days ago, but this was just for show. I never expected to have one die; let alone murdered.
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