Archive | August, 2012

Damn You, R.E.M.

31 Aug

Blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah LEONARD BERNSTEIN.

Best song in the world, and I only know 2 words.


Doctor Squid

30 Aug

Warning: What follows may be too awesome for you to stand.

It is a squid holding a sonic screwdriver and a laser screwdriver from Doctor Who season 5 onward and season 3 respectively.

You have been warned.


Nothing But Ones And Heroes

29 Aug

“Gosh, are you playing a video game? What a loser.”

I hate people like this. I hate them with a fiery passion that dwarfs hell itself. If somebody made a machine that ran on hate, my hatred for people like this could power a neutron star. If hatred was a colour, it would be purple.

I hate people like this for a couple of reasons. The main reason is that humanity has been steadily improving on media, and video games are the current apex. A proper game can make all previously “good” media wither away like it’s a cold day in the locker room.

First was drawings, which was fine for awhile until Rob Liefeld diligently fucked everything up like a flying skyward nymphomaniac. Next was books, and those were fine until humanity all got paper cuts, which led to the Great Book War of 1995. It’s possible I’m remembering that wrong.

“Kill it before it spreads!”

We later got movies, and humanity rejoiced! Finally, we had combined the pictures of art and the talking of books. But, as with most things, it took 5 minutes for America to completely fuck it up, like they always fucking do. HAH HAH INACCURATE JOKE HAH.

The modern video game came next, and they surpassed movies in every possible way. They were longer, faster, more interesting, more interactive, more innovative, and proved conclusively that movies were old news. Oh, and if any movie buff objects and says movies are better, then hush. Science has proved that games are better. Don’t ask, they have a machine or something.

A good game can innovate while telling an interesting story. A good game can enchant and show a beautiful world. A good game can let you be the hero.  A good game can make you laugh and cry and hate and fear. Notice how I said a “good” game, cause not every game can do all of that COUGH COUGH CALL OF DUTY COUGH.

They didn’t even have the effort to write the full title, just the acronym? Assholes!

The reason I despise the people who deride gamers is the fact that just because a couple of bad games and gamers, people feel that all games must be bad. That would be like burning all books because of bad fan fiction, or slaughtering Hollywood because of Michael Bay, or castrating yourself because you got an inappropriate erection.

If for any reason you feel that games and gamers are bad, well, keep in mind that some are. Some people are asses. Some games are right wing patriotic gun wanks.  Some girls walk in to forums and say “Guess what? I’m a girl gamer! Yeah, it’s s0 unbelievable!”. And all us other gamers hate those people and games. (Particularly the last one.)

If you aren’t a gamer, but want to give it a shot, try Portal and then Portal 2, because they are the best, smartest and funniest games on the planet. Again, don’t ask. We checked with that machine that science has.

Give games a shot. It’s not all ones and zeros.

Just Because

28 Aug

As they say around here, “title puns are the best medicine”.

Lemme ask you a question: do you like explosions? Do you like surfing on jet planes? Do you like fighting ninjas on nuclear submarines?

If you answered no to any of these, well shut the fuck up, you liar. Everybody likes those things.

Just Cause 2 is a sandbox action game (as in, it is an open world game) for all the video game consoles except the Wii, because the Wii has the processing power of a dung beetle. There is no way that the Wii could possibly process the sandbox required unless it was powered by the souls of the entire U.S infantry.

And when I say “sandbox”, I mean a box the size of the Mojave Desert and enough sand to irritate the vaginas of every hooker in Rome.


Just Cause 2 is about Rico Rodriguez, the immortal space/time wizard sent by the American government in to a South East Asian country to destabilize the dictatorship by shooting everybody and blowing up all the peasants. Just like they always fucking do.


Mr. Rico was sent in with a web shooter, the ability to literally fart parachutes, and enough guns to make a paranoid NRA member wet his Bill O’Reilly pyjamas. Your goal is to fuck this country up, a goal Rico takes to with alarming gusto. Seriously, Rico kills more foreigners then the Black Death mixed with Anthrax.

This game was specifically built to take all of the best parts of action movies and mix them in a blender of sweet jumps and explosions. Pretty much the only things missing are dodgy acting and a massive set of breasts.

I am absolutely shameless.

The entire point of this game is to go from WhereYouAre Avenue to StoryQuest Street while killing everything in between. Usually you end up at Distraction Bay and then you get stuck at FuckAroundAndKillThings Corner. It’s a rough neighbourhood, where plots don’t venture in fear of getting web shooter-ed in the face and tossed off a jet.

The best parts of Just Cause 2 is when things go wrong, but that’s not the jackass comment it seems like. Any time your plan goes wrong, you have to think fast and furious, but preferably without Vin Diesel.

For example, at one point I had to shoot down a rocket ship by web slinging to a nearby jet and shooting it with a missile. Unfortunately, I got distracted by tying a soldier a soldier to a go-kart (don’t ask) so I didn’t have time to shoot it. Naturally, I lost the mission and started crying.

Hah hah! I’m kidding. I grabbed the jet, climbed on the roof and piloted it directly in to the engine.

In retrospect, I probably should have done literally anything else.

Later on, during a high speed chase through a military base as I stole their pornographic magazines (it’s possible I’m remembering that wrong) I realized I was neck and neck with a fighter jet that was trying not to make eye contact with me because apparently that’s a social faux pas when you’re in the middle of a firefight.

I nonchalantly reached out my window and strapped my car to the jet, which led to me sticking my tongue out at the attacking forces as I flew through the sky. Of course, this came to a stop when the rope snapped and I tumbled down and smashed through a window of nursery school, killing six people.

I was perfectly fine from my fall, because fuck you gravity.

I scrambled from my burning wreckage, and casually pushed an old woman in to oncoming traffic.


Just cause.

Buh dum tsh!

Mr Sandman, Bring Me A Dream

27 Aug

One of the major problems with sleepovers, other than the fact that saying the word “sleepover” to any rational adult should result in a boisterous beating, is the fact that afterwards one’s brain is about as sleep deprived as one can get without the use of a brain injury.

Am I rambling? I’m rambling, aren’t I?

So, I did the most I could do without actually having to use my brain which is confusing because my heart is still beating so okay, I used a bit of my brain but shut up, it’s not important. Here’s Snowflame.

It turns out that I’m actually Snowflame. Who knew!

Delicious Irony

26 Aug

[The following is a true story. Except for the rhyming part, I made that part up.]

Today, I got a little bored

So I grabbed a bottle of absinthe

I emptied it out and swung it around

But the “fun” part was clearly absent


That’s when I got an idea

I cleaned out the thing in a sink

Then I filled it up with a fruit juice

And I grabbed it and took a long drink


Alas, to the outside observer

I’m drinking beyond my maturity

But I’m sitting right here with my fruit juice

Dining on delicious irony

End Of The World As We Know It

25 Aug

The world has undergone a great calamity, and all of the land is in ruins. Corpses line the streets, and stealing is the only way to survive. The only people alive are fighting each other over the last resources, slaughtering each other in a pointless war. But enough about America, lets talk about Bastion.


Bastion is a fantasy game for the X-Box 360 about the apocalypse. You play as the Kid, who wakes up one morning to discover that the 5 feet of ground that he fell asleep on last night is now floating in the sky and the rest of the world is dead which is only mildly worse than a hangover.

Mildly worse than the apocalypse.

The story is told from a man who apparently replaced his lungs with succulent honey and speaks like the whole world is his whore and he’s paying with pillow talk. Him and the Kid must kill every living thing in the apocalypse to revive the world with the help of the Bastion because shut the fuck up, that’s how science works.

The Bastion is a large flying rock with magical powers that can somehow bring the world back despite the fact that the game starts with only two guys on it, and I seriously doubt that copious amounts of gay sex can repopulate the world. You do meet a girl later on, but her vagina would have to be the size of a Stargate to do the job, and twice as powerful.

Here’s the Kid, wondering how the fuck he’s getting off this rock.

The game plays well, and Mr. Honeylungs is a great way to get the story across, but the title confuses me. Yes, the game has a Bastion in it but it also has a lot of white hair dye and hammers so you might as well call it “Mr Honeylungs Meets Whitey McHammerInTheFace”.

On second thought, that title would rock. Carry on, Bastion!

Now, I have to spoil the plot for this next bit so stick your head in a bucket of crabs for a minute. And then you’d probably want to listen to the song “Crabbuckit” because that song is the shit.

At the end of the game, you get a choice. You can either stop the apocalypse by using a time machine that you apparently have because shut the fuck up that’s how science works OR you can just walk away and blow everything up.

The second option is presumably there for all the twats who felt that the end of the world just wasn’t end-y enough and wanted to rub some nice healing salt in to everybody else’s open wounds.

So, naturally, I chose the second option. I am nothing if not a twat.