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Wednesday, July 20, 2005

NGS round 2 

As some of you may already know, there is a wide-spread and little-known illness that leaves people crippled, disoriented, and totally unable to form relationships. That affliction is known as NGS: No Game Syndrome. New symptoms are being discovered everyday. For example, in certain cases, the victim will make the all-too-rare lighthearted dalliance sound like it has caused him or her to go totally crazy.

In this case, tragedy was averted by informing the reader that among calling strangers communists, making threats on public figures, talking at length about drugs, and being wantonly vulgar, "crazy" is the kind of blogging my audience expects. But this isn't about me (Miguel Sanchez). It's about NGS and the devastation it has wrought.

It's important to note that NGS can afflict both men and women. However, men are more likely to be diagnosed as NGS than women, due to social norms.

-The main symptom of NGS is sensory failure lasting for 10 seconds to several hours. When NGS strikes, the victim is left hearing nothing but the tone of the emergency test broadcast system and sees nothing but white light. Speech and fluid movement are impossible during the attack.

For example, one morning several weeks ago I was being my normal dashing and hilarious self at a local Starbucks. This drew the attention of a young lady who overheard my conversation with the Barista. She gave me a "come-hither" look and said something. What, I'll never know. All I can remember hearing is BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEPP. I came to sometime later, the girl was gone, and my iced coffee had melted.

-The victim will come across as dense in an almost super human way in the place of attacks most of the time. This denseness was the subject of my last piece on NGS. Lucky for you, since I have been diagnosed as NGS since junior high, I have a ton of these examples. Each "her" is a different person. NGS touches many lives. And if you're wondering, these are all almost verbatim.

Her:"Take Me! Take me Now!"
M:"Where? I'll go start the car!" (she sure is in a hurry to get somewhere...)

Her: "I'm tired of dating dumb guys! I want a guy who can talk to me about international trade while we're getting it on".
M: "Hmmm." (Why is she telling me this?)

Her: "Hey Miguel! I bet I could beat you in a wrestling match! Want to go the upstairs office with the air mattress and see who wins?"
M: "I got to put these yard signs in my car..." (wrestling? why would I want to wrestle?)

[talking about game theory]
M: " some strategies are dependent on timing as much as risk."
Her: "yeah, risk..."
M: "Nothing ventured, nothing gained."
Her: "and timing... ... ... ... ... ... !!! ...can be bad."
M: "what timing can be bad?"
Her: "Do you even know what we're talking about?!"
M: "..."
Her: "Quit squinting!"
M: "Bad timing?"
Her: "your timing is so bad I'm going to bed!"
M: (how strange! I have no idea what she's talking about.)

As you can see, NGS is a horrible affliction. If you or someone you love suffers from this disease, get help as soon as possible, before it's too late. Don't end up like me: always realizing too late that you made a huge mistake based on an egregiously bad calculation. Oh well. I guess that qualifies me for some job in the DNC.

-Miguel Sanchez  00:24 EST | |

About us:

This weblog is an ongoing, if periodic, effort by several friends to stay in touch, in reading material, and in ideas.

Lucky Luciano is a former Italian Stallion real estate hustler and Benedict Arnold CEO turned shady lawyer-to-be. He lives in Denver.

Ben is a Paramedic and would-be philantropist who lives in Denver. He knows everything about nothing.

Fuzzy Dunlop lives in Manhattan. He is more than capable of standing up to the stresses of a high crime urban environment.

Jess is a teacher. But have YOU given her an apple? No, you haven't. You should be ashamed of yourself. This crazy feminist currently rests her copy of Awakening in Jersey City.

Matt is a pariah, iconoclast, and professor of gambling living in Oakland.

Miguel Sanchez is not Lionel Hutz.

Daddy Brooklyn lives in Brooklyn. He hates Republicans, though he wouldn't mind being ensconced in the landed elite of New York City.

Paul just smoked my eyelids and punched my cigarette.

Ziggy Stardust has no past.

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