ғɪғᴛʜ ʜʏᴘᴏᴛʜᴇsɪs ⊗ ᴠɪᴅᴇᴏ ≺ ɴᴇᴜʀᴏᴛɪᴄ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴏɴᴇ ɴᴏ ᴅᴏᴜʙᴛ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ɪᴛ ≻
[When the video blinks on you get a panoramic view of Jacob's basement, the computer equipment, and the radio show machinery. There's an unmade bed in the corner and a half eaten bag of jalapeño and cheddar cheetos.
The view's a little bumpy, you catch a glimpse of crutches and the annoyed grunt of a cripple trying to get up basement stares but he manages just fine and then you're being greeted with his kitchen and the things there. He has a nice flat screen TV in the living room and a leather sofa, a wet bar that connects to his kitchen that looks neglected and unused. You don't get the broad tour because Jacob sets the camera down on his kitchen table and crutches his way over to the coffee pot to put on his Joe. You only see his plaid pajama bottoms and white t-shirt over his socked feet at first. Every now and then a glimpse of his scalp which is in disarray and the unshaven stubble lining his jaw.
Once he has his cup of coffee he comes back props his crutches to the side of the table most adjacent to his sofa and reaches a hand out to prop the PORTAL receiver back in a direction in which you can properly see his face. Congratulations, Promenade, the ever elusive son of a bitch that's been passing judgments and being a realist in his two months here has finally shown his face.]
God Morgen.
Or for those of you less intelligent... Wakey wakey eggs and bac-y.
Some of you might be new, in which case... Hvordan fucked er du?
Loosely translated, How fucked are you?
The view's a little bumpy, you catch a glimpse of crutches and the annoyed grunt of a cripple trying to get up basement stares but he manages just fine and then you're being greeted with his kitchen and the things there. He has a nice flat screen TV in the living room and a leather sofa, a wet bar that connects to his kitchen that looks neglected and unused. You don't get the broad tour because Jacob sets the camera down on his kitchen table and crutches his way over to the coffee pot to put on his Joe. You only see his plaid pajama bottoms and white t-shirt over his socked feet at first. Every now and then a glimpse of his scalp which is in disarray and the unshaven stubble lining his jaw.
Once he has his cup of coffee he comes back props his crutches to the side of the table most adjacent to his sofa and reaches a hand out to prop the PORTAL receiver back in a direction in which you can properly see his face. Congratulations, Promenade, the ever elusive son of a bitch that's been passing judgments and being a realist in his two months here has finally shown his face.]
God Morgen.
Or for those of you less intelligent... Wakey wakey eggs and bac-y.
Some of you might be new, in which case... Hvordan fucked er du?
Loosely translated, How fucked are you?