Social networking sites aren't all bad. For example, some cheeky scamp (probably Irish) has started a 'Hating First "Great" Western' Facebook group.

Gaaaaaaaaaaaaames, games, games, games.
Despite having my 360 for several months now, I've only purchased one boxed game, and even then I bought it for access to a free demo. I'm sure there'll be more games worth buying soon, but for now it all demos and downloads, all the time.
For starters, there was the Halo 3 Beta, also known as The Only Reason I Bought Crackdown. Crackdown was decent in it's own right, but more as a sandbox than a game. The missions were hackneyed and repetitive, especially once you had any form of explosive weaponry. When I lost my profile to a poorly tested update, I discovered that I couldn't be arsed to build my character back up for co-op play.
Halo 3 on the other hand, felt like the same twitch-crack that I've been sucking at for years now. As much as I love the game, I was disappointed to see that the weak grenades and punches from Halo 2 have returned. I like the idea of the new items though, especially the Power Drainer. I couldn't see the point of them when I read the previews, but in the game they completely change the dynamics of the 'bullet-hose' shoot-outs that are my favourite part of the sequels now that I can't clobber people as effectively.
I put precisely an hour into determining that Shadowrun is going to be exactly as bad as it could be. Fair enough, if you need to bastardise rich and interesting source materials you might as well go whole hog, but at least make decent game out of it. Making a poor shooter that forces you to depend on the sort of pond scum you encounter on Live for respawning? Not a good look FASA, not a good look. Jesus, I wrote that forgetting that there's no single-player campaign. Fuck you again FASA. In your ear this time. The best thing that could happen to this game would be for it to be outsold by a Virtual Console re-release of the SNES RPG.
I put about the same amount of time into determining that Overlord is going to eat my balls. Minions? Check. Evil? Check. Teh Funny? Checkz0r. Shame about the re-cycled graphics and voice acting, but at least the guys who did Fable are still getting work. I've read that it'll feature extensive back-tracking too (how much are they paying Molyneux for this? Nothing? Call the lawyers Pete.) but I think the minions will be enough to keep me entertained.
Joust is just as frustrating as you remember it being in the Eighties. Pay your five bucks and download the damn thing. How much did you put into that machine when you were nine? My Dad used to check the arcade first when he lost me in one of the hotels we stayed in on my childhood ski trips because of this game. Option B was in the bar coaching his friend Ted on the video poker.
Given that I mentioned the Virtual Console while shitting on FASA, I should point out that it's been about a month since I turned my Wii on. Such a great idea for console, such a worthless shit-heap of games. Mini-game collections are not games for fuck's sake. It's great to 'expand the audience', but where are the games that use the wii-mote as something other than a gimmick? Perhaps Victorious Boxers will redeem things, but I'm close to selling the little thing off.

Unbelievable.

I'm back from Steamboat, and it was pretty much a blast. The first three days were roasting hot, leg destroying Slush Festivals, but things froze up on the third night and we got heaps of snow over the next two days. The sixth day stayed below zero for some great cruisers in the morning too.
It was weird to be on the mountain that I grew up skiing without the posse that I used to ski it with, but both of my brothers and I were there together for the first time since 1994, so the nostalgia was still thick.
I'll have a few videos and pictures up shortly...look forward to me blowing the landing off a five-ish foot cliff.
Update: The documentary evidence is up on Picasa.

My paternal grandfather was not a particularly nice man. He was born in the early years of the 20th century and came of age during the '30s. He lived through the harshest times in living Canadian memory, and they left him reserved and stern.
Near the end of his life, his Alzheimer's loosened its grip for a brief moment when my father was visiting.
'Dad? It's Bob...' said my father, seeing the change in him.
'I know who you are,' said my grandfather, in the voice of a snooker shark bank manager. 'Thank you for everything you've done for me,' he said, putting his hand out for my father to shake. And then he was gone again, back into the fog.
Imagine the strength, the sheer force of masculine willpower that it would take, having been granted a short reprieve from years of senility and dementia, to realise that you were dying and use what could be your last lucid moments to thank your son for taking care of you in your decline.
Stan Marshall, my Dad's Dad, died this past Saturday, the tenth of March, 2007.

Apparently I live with someone who thinks that it's so dangerous to eat out of a dish that has come into contact with bleach that it must be thrown away.
Some people just deserve salmonella.