Minecraft Day 1

Dear diary,

Or is it journal? Shit, I don't know. Don't men have journals and women use diaries?

Whatever, it's probably not important.

Today I found - wait, am I a man or a woman? I don't seem to have any distinguishable genitals.

Also, my hands look like someone pulverised a sausage into a rectangle and stuck it on a Lego figurine. Four times. With surprising symmetry. I wish it were five though, I'm really missing those genitals.

Today I found that I had suddenly woken up in another world. I don't remember the world I was previously in, but I like to think I had a nice wife, opposable thumbs and genitals, and got good use out of all of them.

I made my way inland past the mounds and mountains and proceeded to chop up some wood with my fists in order to make things. Things I would need. They laughed at me when I took those lessons in carpentry, but who's laughing now? Not I. I'm terribly lonely in a strange land and want to go home.

I managed to refine the wood using methods unbeknownst to me, and then stacked two of them on top of each other, which made a stick. My survival instincts kicked in and I grabbed some more wood and sticks, and put together a wooden pickaxe capable of breaking stone.

Apparently that's possible.

I was able to mine some coal from a nearby cave and made fire. I discovered that I must be evolutionarily superior to cavemen, because I didn't have to do anything except put the coal onto the end of the stick. What the hell took those dumb-asses so long to figure it out?

Then the fun and games came to an end. The sun went down over the horizon and all went dark, save for the moonlight. I decided that I may be able to make some kind of crude shelter by pounding the dirt with my sausages, thereby creating a cave, when my plans were interrupted by a zombie.

“Oh shit! Who are you?” I asked him, unable to contain my shock. I wasn't frighten at first though, at first. My first impression was that he didn't seem like the kind of zombie that would ever feed on somebody.

Human blood ran from his mouth “Uuuuraghsplurgyuh” He announced.

“What are you doing here?”

“Uurdsgfldkgnkd” He stated, in a matter of fact kind of manner. Such is the way with zombies.

“Well that may be, but might I reply by insinuating that your mother is a-”

I was unable to finish before his hunger got the better of him and he started trying to eat me. I managed to kill the bastard with my bare hands, though he was clearly a better man than I – I can't say I've ever been nice enough to make small talk with my would-be dinner; apart from that group of pigs earlier. Nice guys. What do you call a group of pigs anyway? I'm sticking with "flock" or "Bacon factory" for now.

I dug my way into the side of a mountain, also with my bare hands. I layed down some torches (or as I like to call them 'burny stickies' and sealed the entrance with dirt.

Now I'm waiting. It's boring as hell. I'd sleep, or make a sandwich, but the sound of zombies wailing outside and exchanging pleasantries is keeping me in my place, scared like a little girl. I mean, I guess I just killed one with my bare hands and made it drop feathers like the chicken it was, but I'm not willing to use my sausages again unless a wooden sword is attached to the end of one of them -or if a beautiful lady walks by.

So for tonight... I wait.