Wait, didn’t you, uh, quit? Yep. Still am, too. But dude… States.
A lot has probably happened since I left the fold. But I don’t know any of it. Lemme guess…
1) The net still has decks.
2) Tourneys still have IDs.
3) Someone said or typed”yer sh*t.”
(I came home from work one day and there was this dog in the house. Yes, that’s a Keldon Mantle on the floor; I really have no idea why.)
Like I’m gonna miss States. Prereleases come and go with nary a concern, but States is like, something, well, that I just plain ain’t gonna miss. Even if everyone is still mad at me for not lettin’ the door hit me where the Good Lord split me.
Then, just in case I wasn’t totally convinced that I was going to drive an hour to Gardiner, I saw this:
“States comes to Crossroad Games!
Crossroad Games is happy to announce that it will be hosting this years state championship for Magic the Gathering. The date of the event is November 2nd. Stay tuned for more details!”
Heh. I stayed tune.
Nope, didn’t sell the cards. After about ten years of spending lavish amounts of money on the”current thing that interests me” and then selling all that crap when it no longer interested me – and then finding that perhaps it still interested me a little (or at least for a day), I learned my lesson.
Thus, all the cards are safely stowed right next to the guitars, drums, amps, hundreds of books on craps, poker, blackjack, and assorted decks of cards, chips, and dice. Just in case, right?
By the way, my wife does exist. Here’s proof:
(Damn, look how buff I am. And how unfortunately short my tongue is.)
(It’s not the size that matters – it’s what you do with it, right? Just think; if you were married to me, you could have my tongue in your ear right now. And have an expression on your face just like that. Notice how I’m smoldering at the camera. Oh, yeah, I’m reaching out through cyberspace and seducing you all with my gaze.)
Hi, name’s John, and I have no Judgment or Onslaught cards, nice to meet you.
So, in honor of both Toby”the dog had to go out so I leashed her up and” Wachter and Quentin Tarantino, I did this:
Toby…Toby Wong? F’*ckin’ Charlie Chan.deckfullaheh
4x Chainer’s Edict
4x Tainted Pact
2x Zombie Infestation
4x Nantuko Shade
4x Crypt KEEPER
4x Mesmeric Fiend
4x Drudge Skeletons
4x Aether Burst
2x Turbulent Dreams
4x Merfolk Looter
4x Howling Mine
4x Memory Lapse
4x Rites of Refusal
3x Remove Soul
2x Stupefying Touch
4x Diabolic Tutor
4x Insisidious Dreams
1x Mortal Combat
1x Whispering Shade
1x Western Paladin
1x Eastern Paladin
4x Deep Analysis
4x Thieving Magpie
Yep, ready for everything. Or most definitely not.
339 Cards (I think but am not really sure and don’t really care much neither)
Asschecks are deck. Or the other way around.
Aitch eeh aitch spells”heh” and you are the one that doesn’t have to play this for like seven rounds.
Nope, don’t plan on winning even one match, although I may manage to cheat someone out of a random game or two because that’s what Magic’s all about.
Here’s the part where I begin the discussion of why I included this card or that and”how to play this deck” stuff and actually take myself seriously.
Here’s the part where I conclude that discussion.
But if I do win a game with Vizzerdrix, I want something really really special. And she better be a freakin’ hottie. Speaking of hotties, I remember offering to tell ya’ peeps about the night I had a perfect ten. No, she was an eleven. Not eleven, an eleven. Maybe I’ll tell ya’ later. Although, allow me to grab my stones for a moment.
SCENE: 1993ish: Friday night – 4 in the morning.
THE MATH: Johnny Riz + Sheila, a natural (take my word for it) blonde + A pool table in a deserted pool hall + Five friggin’ hours =
I am God. And you’re not.
Three Hundred Thirty-nine Friggin’ Cards. Real men leave a hundred-card cushion for Battle of Wits, but playing with 4x Battle is ass. But ass, as they say, is fairly tight. As an ass man, I can say with total confidence that ass, if you’ll pardon the expression, is the sh*t.
For the last, oh my whole entire life, I’ve heard this, or derivations thereof:
“She ain’t got no hooters.”
“Her bazookas are too small.”
“She’d be hot if her headlights were bigger.”
There are two kinds of people in this world: Ass Men and those who are idiotic.
Before I forget, as if I could, allow me to offer my apologies for dissing everyone who expected the results of the Prototypical Magic Player Survey or whatever the hell I called it. I saved about 130 of the replies to a folder, deleted the e-mails (after replying to them of course I think probably I’m pretty sure) because my inbox was rapidly appraoching full fattness, then my computer crashed something fierce. I didn’t feel too much like a jagoff after that. Yes, that means I did. I didn’t mention that in my email to The Ferrett – ya’ know, the one he posted without even asking me (heh?), but it was one of the biggest reasons I walked away. I spent upwards of 50 hours compiling the results and had probably another 50 to go, and boom, gone.
(For the record, I did ask him, but he has since forgotten. That’s fine, ’cause I probably would have published it even if he hadn’t given me permission, but I asked and he did – The Ferrett, rediscovering the joys of editing a Rizzo tourney report)
Man, was that ever annoying. No, really, it was.
But I can always blame it on the rain. Milli was the better singer, by the way.
I found a bunch of disks the other day. I know what yer thinkin’, but no, they were not full of porn; ’twas da’ old tourney pics and whatnot. And a veritable who’s who it was. But mostly, the pics of Jill – ah, Jill – and Becky – ah, Becky – keep me warm for a few minutes. Then I recover, then they keep me warm again.
Dear Jill and Becky,
I have your pics. And a kickass photo editor.
Johnny Sick As Hell, Dawg
I am one disgusting human being. Nah, I’m really a nice guy. Just ask all the girls that wouldn’t do me. Oh, and there’s quite a few of them. I’m so glad I’m married – it’s a built-in excuse. Ergo:
DUDE: Look at the ass on that hottie!
ME: If I wasn’t married I’d go do her right now.
Marriage is the best excuse ever for not being able to get laid. Ever.
Since all is good and new, I checked out the Star City Featured Writer archives to see what I could see. Yep, just as I figured – don’t know him, or him, or him, etc. But wait…
Yeah, like anybody saw that coming.
Chris Romeo. Had I known he had just a moustache, I might not have liked his stuff so much. Okay, I still would have…. But guys who have just a ‘stache are kinda sneaky. You would do well to be wary of those with such nefarious facial hair. Oh, and guys with a connected goatee are suspect as well.
(No longer guilty – The Ferrett, freshly-shaved for a Halloween costume – see? You learn not only about Rizzo’s life, but my editorial inserts force you to learn about mine as well! – The Ferrett, signing off again for the hell of it)
In honor of the two quarterly set reviews that I missed, I figured I’d do ya’ one better – a review of the Star City Featured Writers.
For. No. Reason.
This guy runs some random small time website somewhere, and spent a day or two on the Pro Tour and maybe won a buck or two, but the fact that he’s a former teammate of mine gives him his true credibililty.
He knows that Wakefield fellow or something. I’m not sure if I’m jealous, but I probably am.
If he was a doctor, and went by”Andy,” then he’s be Dr. Andy. Tech.
l33t haXros f33r him. But he’s truly a gentle human being. So I hear.
i like the fact that capital letters do not exist for this crazy new zealander or australian or wherever the hell he’s from. however, his non-linear writing style is what really makes me want to first pick him, but only when i draft.
There’s probably an anagram of”Klaus” in there somewhere. Klaus Kinski never made a bad movie. Ever.
I think Carl lives in West Virginia. I used to live in West Virginia. For two months. Didn’t like it much – and despite living in Morgantown, home of WVU, I didn’t get laid. And that sucked.
The younger brother of Frasier and Niles doesn’t get as much press as they do, but I’d be willing to bet a buck or two that he nailed Daphne long before anyone else. And Roz, too. And Frasier’s boss.
This guy is the champion of replying to emails from fans. In fact, he used to hold contests to determine exactly which two fans he would personally reply to. A true gentleman.
Someone give this guy a real haircut. Plus, everytime I drop Oddish when playing Pokemon with the eggs, I think of Uncle Dave. Me and Dave outta headbutt each other sometime. That’d be tight, even if it might hurt an awful lot.
I’m not sure, but I bet he’s trying to pull a fast one on everybody. And succeeding.
He’s British or something, and with his nickname of”Gizmo,” obviously a hella fan of the 1983ish hit movie”Gremlins.” Good movie, kinda. Phoebe Cates is probably still hot as hell.
David Zadok Stroud
I can’t say his name without immediately flashing back to the 1980ish Dino DeLaurentis flick”Flash Gordon.” The mad scientist’s name was Hans Zarkov. I was eleven when I first saw that movie, which probably explains why I thought it wasn’t a total piece of garbage.
He’s an attorney, which of course means he thinks he’s tough.
He’s broken, or at the very least, bent to sh*t and back. Someone should have sex with him. In fact, I think I’ll send a couple hotties over to his h to the izzo, make them shut down his computer and then tie his insane ass to the kitchen table and do him for a very long time. Some peeps like Magic; some peeps write about Magic. Geodude makes sweet, sweet love to Magic. And I met him once and you didn’t.
I had a roommate named”Jason” once. But I never had one named”Standlea.” I’m working on it.
He (and Aaron Forsythe, et. al) was the brainchild of my 2000 Regionals deck that I loved more than life itself. Even though it used white cards. Now he works for that Forsythe guy on that random website. Spoo. Ky.
He spoke in class today. Scared the sh*t out of me!
FrigginRizzo: <---Circumsized, and lovin' it.
If he ever co-wrote a movie with Tarantino, then that would be really cool.
I never did find out if it’s pronounced”Chabot” or”Chabot.”
He beat me in a round 1 feature match at GP – Detroit. And I bet he relives that moment every single day of his life. Other than that, I don’t think he has any real writing accomplishments. At all.
He can wear a Kansas City Royals cap and it’s his actual initials! Mess with that.
The first time I saw the acronym”G.M.O.W,” I though it was going to be an article about Magic players coming out of the closet. I was sadly disappointed to learn that the”G” stands for”Good.” And I’m still mad.
Kurtis Fat Man Hahn
Along with having a neat beard, he also invented some format that uses like 250 card decks. 250 card decks – can you imagine something so silly? And then he got banned. People. Are. Wack.
He sounds French, and chicks love French guys. I think it’s because they carry baguettes and wine in their trade binders.
Mary Van Tyne
Yes, this is a grrl. But don’t hold that against her – I don’t. In fact, if I was gonna hold anything against her, it wouldn’t be that. Heh, just kiddin’, Mare. Or not. No, most definitely not.
He’s a college professor. If I was a college professor, and was teaching a bunch of naughty little nymphettes, well… I bet you can do the rest of this here math.
All I’m sayin’ – the letters”sup” are there. Sup is tight.
Why she didn’t call Trix”Machine Head” is beyond me. She claims to be a doctor, but I don’t ever recall seeing her on”ER.” That’s fairly suspicious, isn’t it?
I recall once writing that this guy was prepped to follow in Eubroken’s footsteps. National champ 2003? You heard it here first. If I’m wrong, who cares? If I’m right, send me your sisters.
His nickname is”BSV.” Three years later, I still have no idea what that stands for. And neither do you.
“Green Eggs And Ham” is about the coolest book ever written. And if my name was Sam, I’d claim that”Sam-I-am” is me, just like Mr. Zitin does.
Sean Erik Ponce
Ah, the Derangedest of Dads. His initials are”SEP,” which is so close to”SUP” that it’s freakin’ scary.
Sheldon K. Menery
I’m”not sure” if he ever”took” a”bribe” to make”iffy” rules”infractions””go away,” but if he”did,” then that would be”hard” to”prove.”
I hear he doesn’t get along too well with ptr. Yep, that’s reason enough to like him.
Stijn Van Dongen
I always wanted a cool name like this.
I always wanted a cool name like this. Europe has all the cool names.
I used to hate British humor until I read a few of his articles. I still hate British humor, but Tony’s stuff is hardly British. In fact, it’s hardly in English at all, which makes me feel like I’ve just cracked the Omega Code when I actually get something he’s written.
In my latest screenplay, I have a character named”Trevor.” He’s gay. Not that that means anything.
Seriously, five hours. Every time I tried to leave, she grabbed some random body part and bit, licked or suckled it. Please feel free to be jealous for the rest of your life.
And what, dear loser former writer of articles that really didn’t say anything, have you been up to?
Actually, it’s down to, as in”man, it’s amazingly easy to lose 40 pounds and stuff when you’re not eating a bag of chips and playtesting for 4 hours in a row every friggin’ goddamned night. Oh, and I had a job. Now, I have another. Still married, still got the eggiweggs, and I’m finding myself fantasizing about all the yummy mummies when I take Berto to Tiger Cubs or Karate or whatever the hell he does that also involves other kids of his age and their sexy-ass moms.
Moms are tight. Not really tight as in”not loose,” ’cause we all know that squeezing out ten-plus pounds of love is not a recipe for tightness as it pertains to the regular human bean vernacular.
Why does it always come back to sex? I think I may have problems.
Also, I find myself writing more and more and then a little more. Plays are annoying because it only takes up to a friggin’ year to hear back from jagoff playhouses that would rather have a week of some jerky play that everyone’s seen a billion times before. Oooh, we’re so tech! Let’s produce something really crazy! How about Oklahoma or Fiddler on the Roof? Nope, not everyone and their feakin’ grandassmother has seen those – why bother to actually produce something that didn’t come directly from Broadway? Oh, and that might even be sorta rogue.
Friggin’ net deckers everywhere, huh?
Net theatres? And what’s with spelling”theatre” like you’re Tony Boydell? This is America and the only things that end with”e” are pasta dishes. Freakin’ wops, I’ll tell ya.
But I would still make sweet sweet love to David Mamet. Over and over again.
Sheila had a really nice rack. Not too big, nor too small. Not too tart, not too sweet. But perky as all hell, dawg.
Don’t even get me started on her ass. Or I would never be able to stop.
Her buttocks were very nice.
Thus, screenplays it is. Who the hell doesn’t love movies? Well, people that read books I guess. But none of them ever get laid anyway.
“Print is dead.”
-Harold Ramis, Ghostbusters, in like 1985 or so fer Christ’s sake
I hate people. Now, it’s just a different set of people.
Or just go to frigginrizzo.com and click the links and whatnot. Works in progress yes, and early drafts and rewrites as well, but take too many hours of your time and check them out anyway. Or don’t. Then send me feedback for no reason. Or don’t. They’re probably being rewritten as you read this. Be warned that there may or may not be some bad words up in there. And gunplay. And violence. And even a little nookie. And some more bad words.
If you’ve ever wondered what kinda movie would Rizzo write – and would it have anything to do with Bruce or Bringing Out The Dead? Well, sorta, dawg. And guns too.
In fact, the expression”Deranged f*ckin’ hermit…” got some love. In some cozy corner office in Renton, WA, Aaron Forsythe smiles fondly. Deranged Dad probably does, too.
Oh, and the next one is about lesbians. Heh, it’s gonna take a while, because I can’t type more than two pages without needing to, um, take a break. Damn, I know what I like.
And Sheila’s little undies? Well, silk, of course. No, not like they were black. Okay, they were.
I am officially jealous of myself.
If I knew then what I know now, well, there’d at least be pics. And probably an entire website.
I asked her last name – she said”Death.” Uh, yeah, I still kinda worry about that one every time I pee. And the first thing I check when I wake up – were any of my vital organs surgically removed as I slept? Heh, urban legend my ass.
Alas, it may take five or ten years, but one day you’ll grab a tub of corn and watch the opening credits roll and see this:
Written and Directed by John Friggin’ Rizzo
…Or you might not. But you probably will. And then I can walk up to the podium in my handmade”not endorsed by Wizards T-shirt” and say”I’d like to thank the Academy – Team Academy.”
Then I would own AndyStok forever. And I finished higher than him in a PTQ once. Once. And I’ll never let him live that down. Even if the only way I could make Bitch of the Month was to retire.
But enough about me. Jeez, those guys that write about themselves are kinda annoying. I mean those other guys who write about themselves. Yeah, them.
Hi, I quit Magic and two months later learned that I lost 100 points from my Constructed and 70 from Limited. Here I was thinking that I went out with ratings way over 1700 in Limited and Constructed, but nope – seems that TOs can’t play in the Ts that they O. Especially those four that Tha Other Johnny Magic just happened to, oh, win. Thus, strike ’em from the record.
Dude, on a friggin’ pool table! For five hours! Well, a little on the floor, but that still counts.
I can take solace in the fact that she’s probably gainfully employed at blacksonblondes.com. Heh on her. Edit that. He probably did. Bastard.
Got any idea how long it takes to bring a 1473 Constructed up to 1772? I bet you don’t.
That doesn’t even look right.
But that does.
I now am sporting a tremendous chubby that’s neither tremendous nor chubby. Nevertheless, one of us is excited. And it’s probably me.
I play Pokemon sometimes. Hey, when you have a six-year-old Pokemon addict/egg, then feel free to rip on me. Until then, take solace in the fact that red will never have more coin flip cards than Pokemon. Ever. But it’s really close.
Ryan Fuller’s still banned. Poor baby.
And although I haven’t played in what seems like forever, I still suck at Magic. This report should verify that hypothesis that’s been proven over and over and over, but I’m writing this before States, so perhaps I’ll actually do well. I hope not.
How’d you like to be the guy that lost to the guy who hasn’t played in forever and owns a total of zero cards from the last two expansions and is playing a 300+ card deck?
Didn’t think so.
At this point I’m still weighing the”bring da’ camera and take some pics or no?” decision. But I’m leaning towards”do that, dawg” ’cause I’m still mad at The F for posting my email(s) that were written a) without thinking for even a second, b) in a state of highly pissed-offness, and c) without express written consent from Major League Baseball or me.
Nah, he’s aight in my book. Heh, like I’m gonna write a book. Well if I did, he’d be aight up in it. And I’d make sure he got laid a lot. Ergo:
The F cups her heaving breasts, undulating in the moonlight as she begins to moan ever so softly.”Is it one ‘t’ or two?” manages to escape her quivering lips before she totally succumbs to his wily charms.”It’s two, woman!” he fires back.”Now go wash the friggin’ dishes before I bitch slap you into next week’s Alongi article!”
Romance novels are ass.
I used to do this every week. Why?
By the way, better get used to reading stuff like”He played some green card that does something,” and”Dude got crazy with some blue instant or something.” A lot.
I just realized that I’m going to have to register this friggin’ deck, as in”write down all the cards that are in your deck.” That doesn’t sound like fun. But hey, it’s for charity. Or purity. Or sanity.
Who cares? MTV sucks. How do I know – I haven’t had cable in like ten years. But it does anyway.
But why oh why are you paying actual cash money to play in a tournament that you have absolutely no chance to win or even do fairly well and are lacking cards from forty percent of the legal sets?
Is it because you miss the game? Not really.
Because you miss the competition? Nah.
Because you miss the fanfare associated with being a pseudo-celebrity? Nope.
Because you have nothing better to do with your Saturday? Kinda not that either.
Because you have no friends and are desperate for human contact? No – but that’s a pretty good one, huh?
Because you miss writing a weekly column and the emotional highs that it brings and the only way to temporarily get that back is to go to a tourney and write about it?
Now, that sounds like it has a chance to be pretty close. But nah.
Because you sent an early draft of your first screenplay to two Magic writer guys (I won’t mention any names MARK ROSEWATER and BENNIE SMITH) for some feedback almost four months ago and have never heard back from them and are trying to get some free constructive criticism from peeps who will read this article then maybe check out your stuff? Man, that sounds good. But nope.
Then why oh why how now brown cow?
Always heh. That’s the only reason anyone ever needs. Just heh.
PROSECUTOR: Why did you flash that group of blind nuns?
GUY IN RAINCOAT: Heh.
WIFE: Why did you steal my mother’s underwear?
YOU: Why did you keep that one-land hand?
A moment to ponder…
If you’ve been paying attention, the only answer that you could possibly arrive at is
I started writing this about a month ago, and playing in States sounded like a cool way to spend a random Saturday. Now, it’s October 31, and it doesn’t seem as cool as I thought. But I have a really big deck built, and have actually hinted to a few peeps that still drop me random lines now and again that I may or may not be in attendance.
I can picture it now:
Parking across the street from Crossroads and just sitting there, going”what the hell am I doing?”
For a long time. Then, I grab my bag of big deck and perhaps camera and related accessories, a couple packs of smokes and some other oral fixation material and head on in.
No, that won’t be too scary. At all.
Especially when the sound of the door leads everyone’s eyes.
Hi, name’s John. And I really have no idea what to expect. And no list of excuses or explanations for anything.
But I tend to do that – jump into something head first and just give it up cold turkey.
It’s sorta like the guy that was your best friend in 8th grade. Thought you’d be tight forever, huh? Funny thing, but in 9th grade, he’s downgraded to”this guy I know,” and in 10th, he’s just another face in the hall.
For no reason. Nope, you didn’t get in a fight, or he didn’t do your girlfriend (or mom), but sh*t just happened and now it isn’t the way it used to be. Nobody’s fault, it’s just the way it is.
You probably know what I’m saying, even though I’m not saying it real well. Try again:
Take my two best boyyeeees from CMU – Uncle Aaron Forsythe and Scottie Too Hottie Teamann. I haven’t talked to them in months, but if I were to bump into either of them by accident or on purpose, there’d be ten minutes of”and what’s been up wif you, dawg?” then everything would be back to the way it was. Well, I like to think that it would, but that’s just the best case scenario.
And that’s what it’s gonna be like at Crossroads. Hopefully.
Thing is, some peeps don’t appreciate other peeps who are always there, then just go away with no rhyme nor reason. And that’s kinda what I am – the guy who jumps in with both feet and leaves the same way. For my whole life.
Told you something was wrong with me.
But I’m not sure what.
Heh, I wrote like twenty pages already, and I don’t even know if The F’s gonna even post this. There’s a chance that he’ll get this article and send me back a reply along the lines of”You think you can come and go as you please? Nope, bitch.” I don’t think he’ll do that, but there are people that don’t take to kindly to what they perceive as a betrayal or abandonment.
Some of all y’all said as much. And are still saying it.
And the thing is that I don’t know that he won’t up and cold diss me. Not for sure.
And ditto the Crossroads guys.
And all y’all.
A year ago, I would’ve said I didn’t give two rat’s asses. Maybe I still don’t. But there’s a chance I might.