Did the title get you? It should. Who is this person that is coming in here and saying he shot the president? And when? Which one?
As there as many click-bait news articles, posts, and other links out there in the internet, I assure you, that mine is at least true! In a sense. 🙂
Nevertheless, thanks for stopping by. Name’s Daniel Mai, and before you feel like you were baited, rest assured that I will explain why later. Anyways, people like to call me Danny, wow crazy huh?
If this was a short introduction, I would say “I like video games”. But everything is always more complex than it really is, right? I am a first time blogger, and an aspiring computer engineer, or at least I hope to be. I am Asian, and I’m 21. Party all night, am I right? No, my parents would flip out, give me long lectures, and maybe even bring out the long ruler if I did that! Oh, did I mention I was Asian? My household is as generic as it can get; parents, a brother, and a mischievous cat. A cat who likes knock vases down like it was her job. Oh, and I also like writing my own stories. Maybe not so much as reading them, just writing something out of the wild. 😉
If you made it this far, that’s a pretty brief description that I would tell any stranger of the day. But do you want to hear a story about my mischievous cat?
How mischievous? Let me tell you a story about my cat.
My cat, lets call him cat, likes to sleep on my bed. Parents don’t like that, gets hair everywhere; so every time my parents see cat sleeping on my bed, they ready their hand in the “Imma smack you position”, and cat bolts. But as soon as my parents finish their patrol of “making sure there’s no imaginary man fighting ghosts in the direction of my kids room to check on him for no reason“, cat jumps right back on there. I’m okay with that, until one day, I woke up with a lot of resistance on my right foot. I couldn’t move it, so I got up to check. I see cat, with her claw stuck in between my toes. It took me a second, and I yelled words you shouldn’t be hearing in a rated E movie. It seems that I accidentally kicked her in my sleep, and she attacked my foot. Guess who’s not sleeping on my bed anymore. I learned, after 21 years, the couch is still pretty comfortable.
I am chock-full of stories. How about I actually tell you why I am known the man who shot the President? Okay, it’s simple. I shot the president in a video game. No, i’m joking, I wouldn’t actually bait you lovely people. 😉
Though the story I am about to tell you isn’t as amazing as you would hear it to be, but to me, and to anyone else that was with me during that day, it was nothing less of amazing.
It was, paintball. It was a senior trip thing in high school. We thought, “what’s not great about paint balling with friends before the year’s over?”, but we were all amateurs.
They give you protective gear, to protect you (obviously lol), but let me tell you; if you have never gone paint balling before, when you get hit by those perpetually agonizing balls of pain, be prepared to scream. Those paint balls that we used, were plastic, and would not always explode, making you take the blunt of everything. Leaving bruises.
However, as amateurs, we blast away. Shooting everything in site. The enemy. The birds. Our own guys. The poor referees. The main difference between that an a video game is “you don’t know if you’re winning“.
“Serious tone engaged”.
Fast-forward to the last game of the day, protect the president. The protectors were given time to station up, create a border to protect their last hope. The President creates his safety layer using the twigs and fallen trees. As the attackers approach, they were squelched by the terror, the terror known was us. The hour has come. We approach, guns in hand. Team leader relays the strategy to us, one last time.
“Men, remember our training, our goal. They are weak, cornered. We will prevail”.
“Hoorah”, we exclaimed in unison.
We head into the field, gallantly. As simple as we thought, we would take out every protector, and their president. But not everything goes as plan. We made one dearly grave mistake. How could we have not seen it before? The very mistake that endangered out lives.
We. Were. Amateurs.
“Less serious tone engaged”.
We went in there, and it went to hell. We lost 80% of our guys. All we could do was hide behind the tree lines and try to take out who we could. Then, eventually, with 20 seconds left to go, we all panicked. People ran out yelling “Banzai!” like it was World War 2. We were all low on ammo, and with the way the situation was going, our morale was low. The refs were counting down, and with 5 seconds left, I just said whatever and shot my last two bullets. And guess what? I shot the President. Through the cracks of the twigs and fallen trees.
The attackers have won. And as of that day, I was known as the guy who shot the President by my colleagues. The End
And thanks for sitting through my horrendous story telling introduction. Always have more stories. Should stop by next time.
Oh, and I had a 4.0 in my major, and everyone lived in harmony. Until the fire nation attacked.
P.S. If you couldn’t tell, my blogs will go from point A to point G really quickly. Z is still to far. Not that crazy yet.