Zola Story – It’s Funny, Until You REALLY Think About It

Today, while cleaning my apartment (I.e playing Madden and tweeting) I ran across a story from knowyourmeme about a woman meeting another woman while working and their wild weekend together. I’d honestly suggest you read it yourself here (just scroll down and click EXPAND STORY) than me tell you everything because, quite honestly, it’s a doozy.

Apart from the hilarity of the entire piece (Zola has an amazing voice) I found myself sitting back and thinking about what I was actually laughing about: Kidnap, prostitution,violence, murder etc. I kept thinking to myself, especially when Jerett went to commit suicide, but was miraculously saved by a blunder, “Is this hyperbole!? This can’t be real!”

But, it’s not so far-fetched.

I’ve come across people in my life, some very close to my heart, that have been caught up in “the Game.” I’ve seen people caught up and coming out a survivor, but more often than not I’ve seen it destroy lives and destroy families. Zola’s story highlights many aspects that are common in the game: trap phones, tricks, drugs, and, most important, money. Some people look at this life and wonder what in the hell makes it so appealing. Money is the answer to every question that follows. The fast money, the fast cars, the fast life.

What bothers me most about the story is the violence throughout. This is REAL! (Isn’t it?) Real people got hurt. Real relationships were destroyed. Real people died. What is so funny about that? The young woman Jess was beaten and battered and though she had someone who cared for her very much, she went with the pimp. The Stockholm Syndrome-like effects of a pimp to prostitute relationship is astonishing.

Prostitution is illegal throughout most of our country, but of course you can always find something to fix your vices. Whether that be on the backpage, as mentioned in the story, on the corner or a dating website, the options are seemingly endless. While going to school and participating in a debate class, I posed the question wondering why prostitution isn’t legal. It’s self-proclaimed “oldest job in the world” title shows that it won’t ever be going away. So, why isn’t it legalized!? Some believe that STI’s would run rampant, some believe that it’d make MANY more people flock to the profession, and others believe that it is just plain wrong, and it’d ruin marriages/relationships. The irony about all of this, is that it’d probably do way more good than bad to society.


Sex is already thrown into the faces of American’s EVERY day, so why would more sex be a problem? A government mandated sex house (or club, or bar, or what have you) would be taxed and health would obviously need to be regulated. Much like cannibus, there’d be required licenses and cards needed to purchase the goods, and you need to be tested and put into a database if you were to ever WANT to use the goods. The pimp, in its notorious form, would be all but eliminated. The violence and abuse would  be edged out as well. The women and men in the profession would actually be able to set up a 401K, have health benefits fr themselves and their families. The industry would be taxed and the state would make huge profits just like marijuana. And, even though it is legal, it’d only be legal in the government houses, anywhere else would be fined HEAVILY.


Now, I did not write this to submit my position for legalizing prostitution, it kinda just fit in here, but the message is coming from the heart. If, and it’s still a big IF, this story is true it’s absolutely heartbreaking for all parties involved.

The story is told in a matter-of-factly way, and it has its charm, for sure. But, the message beneath the humor is sickening. The world provides us humor and laughter daily, but this isn’t one of those times.

Tweet me @kamikazejd or tumbl with me @thejoshuadavisexperience


For Play

I really liked ‘er ass, an that’s kinda whud-da met her for,

Had a smile-y on my face that was bigger than a’ albacore.

Approached with a swagger, not an amateur to prose

Had to shoot for the moon, when the chance arose.


She didn’t look for attention, yet I stood like a soldier

Intentions no longer concealed, abort covert

And when I caught her eye, like a sniper to his scope

She knew  inevitably  her will would be smote


The game I spit was was potent– a cobras venom to mice

And what escaped from my mouth, with a python-esque vice


A surreptitiously sweet,

soothing serenade set

to steal her soul

Against her behest


With the conviction of a back, I attacked her path

I Ochocinco’d this and Deion Sanders’d that

Touching down the field became my next goal

The ultimate prize–reaching the Sugar Bowl


She asks aloud in a heated moment how I’d convinced her to stay

I smirk and reply, “All these game be for play.”


He opens his eyes slowly. The light of the sun peering through his window heats his chin. He takes in a deep breath and gently lets it out through his nose. His eyes wander around his dimly, sunlit room as he continues to wake. He shifts to his left, moving his comforter off of him and he pushes it to his side. He sits up and drags his feet over the side of his bed and onto the floor. He puts his hands on his knees and as they support his body he peers down to the floor, staring blankly at his feet.

“FUCK!” He screams loudly to no one in particular.

His once calm breaths begin to come out in seemingly uncontrollable spurts. His fingernails dig deeply into his knees and he begins to shake his head. His eyes begin to widen as he becomes more infuriated.

“FUCK!” He yells again. He bites down hard and tightens his jaw. “Mother fuck it all…”

Ernest Macken, called Mac by his close friends, is a thirty-four year old man stuck in the mediocrity of life. He only has time for work, which is as a correctional officer in Susanville, California at High Desert Maximum Security Prison. His wife recently left him suddenly and not only did the loss of her stress him out, but the fact that they could barely keep up with house payments already, he feared he would lose his house.

He wakes up daily to the same routine: Shower, cereal for breakfast, a cup of black coffee and a 20-minute drive to work. As he walks in he is greeted by his co-worker Guillermo, who he sometimes calls ‘Memito’. The skinny, but awkwardly tall man was one that Ernest felt he could talk to.

“Mac!” He yelps happily as Ernest enters the locker room to put his belongings away. He hops up and stands patiently behind him as he finishes putting his things away.

“How’s it going, Memito?” Ernest asks as he turns around and shakes the young man’s hand.

“It’s great! I had to tell you first though, Shields is pissed at you! He’s making you stay another overnight!” Ernest shakes his head and passes up Guillermo to wash his hands in the bathroom. “It’s your third time this week Mac, he’s trying to break you. What will you do?”

“I will bash his fucking skull in, that’s what I’ll do.” Ernest thinks to himself.

He walks to his boss’ office, Warden Kenneth Shields, and lightly knocks on his door. A rustling of papers can be heard before the Warden hollers,

“Come in.”

Ernest opens the door and steps into the musty, small office and is greeted by a huge smile that he could only read as meaning, ‘got you cornered’. Ernest sends a polite, ‘eat a dick’, smile back.

“Good morning Ernest, I’m guessing you saw that I have you for an overnight tonight? You’re the best guy for the job. Sorry for the short notice.” Ernest’s slick-haired, smug looking boss says. He begins to turn his chair around and adjusts his thick glasses as if he expected Ernest to accept the duty without question.

“Sir,” Ernest says calmly. “This is my third overnight. I’m not running off much sleep and I need to get home to—“

“To your wife? No. She left you, right? I’m sure you need the money, why complain, Macken?” Shields interrupts.

A spark goes off in Ernest’s brain and he slightly twitches. His face cringes a little, and he forces a smile and a nod. He begins to leave, but Shields calls for him to stop.

“Hey, that behemoth, Khan, needs to be escorted from the hole back into the general population. Handle that. Shut my door behind you, Ermac.”


A cold chill spikes down Ernest’s spine and makes his knees slightly buckle. He squeezes the doorknob tightly and his whole body tenses up uneasily.

“What?” Ernest turns to back to look at his boss. “What did you call me?”

Kenneth looks at Ernest puzzled and scrunches up his face.

“What the fuck do you think I called you, Macken? Get your ass out of my fucking office!” Kenneth bangs a fist on his desk that slides his glasses down his crooked nose and sprawls a few papers onto the floor. Ernest scowls and slams the door behind him.

Ernest walks past Memito’s desk on route to the bathroom.

Ermac, Ermac. We are Ermac.”

Ernest twitches, again, at the sound of the name and looks furiously at Memito, who is rhythmically nodding his head back and forth, as if he were listening to music.

“Memito, did you say something?” Ernest asks exasperated.

Memito looks up, surprised to see Ernest, and shakes his head slowly as he cocks an eyebrow.

“No, Mac. Are you okay? You’re sweating profusely. Yeich! You look filthy!”

Ernest grabs for his head and wipes sweat away from his hairline. He begins to shake his head, confused that such a word, such a name, could make him react so strangely.

“No…nothing, Memito. I… I think I just need some water.”

Ernest splashes a handful of cold water onto his face from a bathroom sink in an attempt to revitalize his sanity.

“Sheena leaving must have really fucked me up,” Ernest thinks to himself, blaming his estranged wife for his troubles. “There can be no other explanation. None.”

Ermac. Join us.”

            Ernest swing his head to the location of the voice and sees only his reflection in an adjacent mirror.

We are Many! You are but one!”

            He swings his head back to the other side and then behind him. All he can see is himself in the lonely bathroom.

“What the fuck, man!? Who the hell is this Ermac!? I’m Ernest” He yells.

“We are but a Legion without you. Join us! Together we will be strong!”

            Ernest’s jaw begins to tremble and slowly drops. He takes in large swallows of air, gasping. He drops to one knee and covers his face with his hand, trying to scramble the nightmare out of his brain. He shuts his eyes closed tightly and looses a muffled scream into his hand.

Ernest slowly stands to his feet after15- minutes down on a knee and listens. No voices. No whispers.

“I need to sleep. This is getting ridiculous.” Ernest thinks as he lets go of his face. He looks toward a mirror and jumps back suddenly. A figure, dressed almost like a mummy in black garb with a green-ish aura around him, reaches towards him. He looks the figure in the eyes and lets out a shriek.

Ernest runs out of the bathroom in sheer terror and runs smack into Kenneth. Both men bounce off each other and onto the ground.

“WHAT THE FUCK!?” Kenneth yells. His glasses fly off his face as he hits the ground. He searches for them blindly. “Macken! You dumb fuck! You know I’m blind without my goddamn glasses! When I find them I am going to put my foot up your fucking ass!”

Ernest gets up, his head pounding from knocking into Kenneth, and he runs downstairs. He gallops past the panicked Memito, away from the stern glance of Sergeant Sonja Blaze as she escorted two new recruits, a blond haired man with a scorpion tattooed down his forearm and a man with a menacingly cold stare, through the facility.

He ran down to the last level which is the dark, damp, and incredibly hot area where the worst offenders are held, away from the general population. Ernest, getting his wits slowly back, passes the cell of a deranged follower of the god of thunder, Thor. He was somehow able to take a transformer down and kill over 30 people at a local pool by electrocution. Ernest walks past probably the most famous, or infamous, rather, prisoner, John Gauge. He is a washed up daytime TV actor that mutilated his director after he found out he was being replaced onscreen by ex Japanese baseball player, Kay Ono. He also bashed in the face of his replacement, leaving the young man permanently paralyzed and blind on one side of his face.

Ernest reaches his destination, the cell of Khan. Khan was the leader of a vigilante group based outside of Houston, Texas. He took the law into his own hand and, because of his charisma and freakishly large stature, his followers were completely loyal. The local law enforcement had no real way of stopping Khan and his army of fugitives, that is, until he suddenly gave himself up.

“K.. Kha..” Ernest coughs out, still reeling from the run in with Shields. “Khan, this is CO Mackens, place your hands on the wall. I will be escorting you back into the general population. Your time in the hole has been served.”

Shuffling is heard inside the pitch black cell and quickly quiets down. Ernest presses a button to illuminate the cell and opens the door.

The 7 foot 3 and a half inch man stares at Ernest, through Ernest, rather. Mackens clears his throat again and takes a step.

“Ermac.” The mountain of a man lets out in a low grumble. “You are the Legion.”

Ernest looks at the man in shock. His mouth slowly opens to retort, but is cut off by Khan.

“Accept your destiny. You are not what you think you are.” Khan says slowly. His hands still placed firmly on the wall. “You are the Bringer of my Army. You are the Harbinger of War. Legion! You are ERMAC!

The ground seems to shake as Khan says the name again. Ernest’s heart begins to beat rapidly and his palms become sweaty again. A thick pounding of echoes inside of Ernest’s head and whispers begin to arise from all around him. The voices call for ‘unity’, they call for ‘dominance’ and the call the name Ermac. The noise rips through Ernest’s head violently and beats like a tribal drum. What Ernest believes is screaming coming from the voices, is actually coming from his own lungs. He staggers back, away from the cell door and falls to his backside against the adjacent cell. A symphony of voices chanting, ‘We are ONE’, sing around him as he gasps for a breath of air.

Ernest curls into a fetal position and squeezes his head with both hands, his eyes bulging from their sockets. The cacophony of sounds unexpectedly stops. Ernest, shaking uncontrollably, uses his eyes to search the room. An explosion. Then another. And another. Coming towards him. Another.

“No, not explosions. Steps.” He thinks.

Khan crouches down in front of Ernest and stares in his eyes. Khan’s inhumanly pale eyes calm Ernest. A feeling of euphoria passes over him. He believed his death was imminent.

“Accept your destiny, Ermac. Search for me, again.” Khan says commandingly as he lifts his fist. Ernest’s eyes follow the fist high into the air and, as it rapidly descends, he says goodbye to the world he had come to loathe.

Ernest wakes up in a dark room. He blinks, slowly. Pain flushes up and down his seemingly broken body. Whispers are heard swirling around the room. They question their ability to move, how long they had been asleep, where they were. They encourage Ernest to try to move a limb, but he is unable to. They urge him, again, and forcibly lift his arms towards his face. He looks at his arm, which is wrapped up tightly in bandages. His alien attire and location should frighten him, but, surprisingly, they do not. His other arm is lifted and he sees the same tight bandages. He tries to squeeze his fist closed, but pain makes the attempt useless. The voices advise Ernest to let them handle functionality at the moment. Ernest obeys, unquestioningly. Ernest’s hands and fingers move completely by themselves. His legs slide slowly across the gurney. His toes and feet flex and his ankle tweaks itself around.

“What is going on?” Ernest thinks.

We are one now, Ermac. We, the Legion and yourself are now, US!”

Ernest tries to shrug in disbelief but is unable to.

We will take care of you until you completely improve. Trust us.”

Ernest is rolled out of bed and is puppeted towards a mirror.

An uneasy feeling drops through his stomach as he peers at the figure before him. He stares into the same eyes he saw in the bathroom that burned themselves into his memory. He peered into his eyes. But, just as it was in the bathroom, his eyes are now their eyes. At this very moment of realization, Ermac, the Legion of Many, is born.

Interview with Pig of the Hut

The MK community needs a man like Pig. Brant is a vocal and very caring  figure in this community. He taught us how to deal with Raiden’s teleport, among other things, and I have yet to best his Kenshi in a FT5. Pig is a cornucopia of knowledge and is here for his community.


Brant M- Pigofthehut Twitter-@bambamguitar





How long you have played the MK series?

Since 1992 MK1 was my first game, but I didn’t play it to the degree that I play this game.This game is always fun and I am embracing the tournament spirit

What makes you play this fighter over other fighters? Do you play and compete in other fighters?

I like the tone, theme, direction of the current game and the community makes me feel as if I belong. I don’t play other fighters.

What would you tell other fighting game players about MK to get them into this series?

Best Mortal Kombat out of any installment and most tournament worthy. The community really grew up because of this game. The first couple of tournaments were won by people with solid fighting backgrounds, people not prominent in the MK community. Now it is solely our community winning these tournaments.

How have you liked the MLG experience?

So far so good. I love the respect they show MK. The west coast is respectable.

Will you be attending EVO? Why or why not?

Yes, I am going to support MK and the Fighting game community. I am shooting for top 8 or to take it all.

If you could compare MK to anything else in the world what would it be and why?

Chess, except real time and with more moves and pieces.

If you were an MK character what would their intro line be?

You’re not ready for this

He added, “I am excited to be here and my mission is to mentally hurt as many Kabals as possible.”

Though I didn’t catch every match pig played, I’m sure he disgusted a few Kabal players. Brant is a genuinely good person and I am glad a guy like this is seen as one of the faces of our community. He will help us grow as a community.

Interview with 3 SC players

I met these guys about 15 minutes  before MK started so I wasn’t able to get as much out of them as I could. They were pretty cool guys and the majority of them were from Norcal.


Timothy G-Tbeezy

Peter Y-Imbu Twitter @dreamingbird

Kelvin A- Faith









How long have you been playing the series?

3 years, since the beta

5 years

1 year

What is so exhilarating about this game?

SC2 is the hardest game there is. Ridiculous learning curve, but if you put the time and effort into it you can be great. You can self improve. I also like the rivalries that our schools have. UC Davis went 17-0 in the CSL- CStarleague, while UC RIverside went 12-5.

How do you feel about this games worldwide acclaim?

We think it’s awesome! Players from Korea are here playing. Regardless of where you are from SC brought us all together.

What do you know about fighters? Do you play any?

Don’t know much about fighters. Street Fighter 4 is the only game cabinet my school has (UC Davis)

What kinds of skills are needed to be great at this game?

The skills needed in this game are having the ability to multitask, you have to be able to eat kimchi and you have to be korean (So it looks like I’m out.. whomp whomp.)


These were some fun guys to talk to and I wish them well in their efforts to bettering themselves at Starcraft 2.

Interview with Spectators Dalton and Derick

I met these two spectators in my search for an outlet to plug my dying phone into. They are socal natives that like playing and watching Starcraft and League of Legends. They helped me to understand why so many people flocked out to Anaheim to watch people play these games.


Dalton W

Derick T-Born Twitter- @c4born






How long have you been playing the series?

Dalton plays starcraft 2 and got it when it was released. He played it for a year, though he took a lot of breaks from it. He has since switched focus to League of Legends. Derick has been playing Real time strategy games for about 4-5 years.

What is so exhilarating about this game?

League of Legends is exciting because of the teamwork needed to be successful. That’s what people like. The ‘metagame’ is always changing. The competition in Starcraft is amazing and that’s why people like that game. The hardwork put in and the ability to multitask is satisfying when it all comes together in a win.

LoL(League of Legends) is teams of 5v5. Each player has a specific role. The metagame is 1v1 on the top 1v1 in the middle and 2v2 at the bottom. The 5th person in the juggler, which is a scout. He helps to catch people off guard. You have to be precise with your team and practice with them in order to be successful. This is a game of harmony and synchronicity.

Starcraft 2 is awesome because one person controls EVERYTHING.. Its awesome to watch the macro and micro management.

What do you know about fighters? Do you play any?

Dalton- I used to play Street FIghter casually, but I don’t know much about fighters.

What kinds of skills are needed to be great at this game?

Map awareness, micro and macro management. You have to know what is going on, not only in your camps but essentially around the whole map. Having heart is extremely important. You can’t get down just because you take a few losses.

Talking to these guys about the ‘metagame’ or how the gameplay has evolved since its release really intrigued me. They didn’t believe that fighters had much of a metagame, and when I thought about it I realized that our metagame is just as abundant as theirs! I will delve further into it in my next post.

Interview with EGP Tyrant

To this day, I have not played EGP Tyrant. Top Jax player, alongside CDjr, Tyrant is definitely a force. I met Tyrant at EGP Redemption and watched him win the tournament in stunning fashion. He is a clutch player. He gets out of so much -shit- that it is ridiculous! He is an instinctual player and can get away with heinous MK crimes if you allow him to.


Elijah W.- EGPTyrant  Twitter-@egptyrant





How long you have played the MK series?

5 or 6 years. MK3 was first.

What makes you play this fighter over other fighters? Do you play and compete in other fighters?

Blood and the overall setting of the game.

What would you tell other fighting game players about MK to get them into this series?

MK is not the hardest fighter to get into. The community, as a whole, is super friendly and will help you level up. It’s overall a good experience.

How have you liked the MLG experience?

Sick! The way it is set up and the hype is amazing

Will you be attending EVO? Why or why not?

Yes, it is the grandfather of all fighting game tournaments

If you could compare MK to anything else in the world what would it be and why?

No comparison.

If you were an MK character what would their intro line be?

I would just come in screaming.

Tyrant, the crazy man coming into the arena screaming. It’s kind of ironic, considering how laid back this guy is. Tyrant is the essence of mellow.