Archive | March, 2013

10 Reasons Hogwarts Is The Worst Damn School Ever

31 Mar

Hey everybody, look at that title! If you can’t guess what something called “10 Reasons Hogwarts Is The Worst Damn School Ever” is about, than I officially have to confiscate your eyeballs.

Ahem.

10: “You Know What Would Be Funny? Making People Run In To Walls.”

This is just a minor nitpick, but seriously, what the fuck was up with Platform 9 3/4?!

Think about it: Hogwarts sends letters to these kids, tell them they’re magic, then say “oh, by the way, run in to this brick wall”. What, is the entire admission system run by the Three Stooges?!

Wait a second, that’s a lie. They don’t even say “run in to this wall”, they just say “go to this station that doesn’t actually exist”. The only reason Harry doesn’t assume that the Durleys were playing a practical joke is because he runs in to the Weasleys which is incidentally how all my nightmares start.

It’s just so bizarrely obtuse. There’s no real point to it, unless the idea of screwing with eleven year olds fills you with joy in which case, wow, you’re creepy.

9: Why Do We Even Have A Lake?!

I’d really like to hear what the Hogwarts faculty was thinking when they decided they needed a lake.

“Okay, everybody, I think we’ve planned out everything for our new school. We’ll magic up Hogwarts tomorrow.”

“Dude, dude, dude. We need to add a lake.”

“Wait, what?”

“Seriously. We’ll just throw in a lake! Like, right between the devil forest and the satanic tree.”

“Why the hell would we do that?! THIS IS A SCHOOL.”

“To hold the giant squid!”

“…”

“And maybe also the city of mermaids. You know, like murderous sea monkeys.”

“What the hell are you drinking?”

“I’ve just been licking whatever comes off Hagrid.”

His beard ALONE is classified as a Class-5 narcotic.

8: Hello, Kiddies, Meet The Hellhound!

Lets play a bit of roleplay, everybody! Don’t worry, the safeword is “Ginny”.

So, lets say you’re a headmaster. You’re guarding a stone of immeasurable power. So you hide it in your school, with a big three headed dog ready to eat anyone who tries to get in.

Do you:

A) Tell all of your impressionable (and probably delicious) students that they shouldn’t go in that door because if they do, they’re dog chow?

B) Lock that door with about fifty kinds of locks so even if they wanted to, they couldn’t get in?

Or C) Tell them not to go in that room, because shut up.

If you chose C, congratulations! You’re Dumbledore.

You might wanna get that checked out, by the way.

Common symptoms of being Dumbledore include old age, many beards, and being sporadically retonned gay.

7: Hagrid. Just… Just Hagrid.

Fun fact: just sitting around, thinking of Hagrid, will make your day markedly worse.

Try it today!

6: I’m Fairly Certain That “Whomping Willow” Is A Dick Joke

Ah yes, the next in a long line of “putting really dangerous things right next to small children” legacy that Hogwarts maintains so well.

In this case, it’s WHY DID YOU PLANT A TREE SPECIFICALLY DESIGNED TO KILL ANYTHING THAT COMES NEAR IT RIGHT NEXT TO A SCHOOL?! DO YOU HAVE SOME KIND OF FETISH FOR LAWSUITS?!

And yes, I know about the whole “Remus Lupin” thing, but, come on. I think the parents would kind of object about the MURDER TREE. Or did Remus Lupin have veto power over EVERY PARENT EVER?!

Or hell, maybe they just fed them to the trees.

“SKREE! SKREE! THEY’LL NEVER FIND THE BODIES! SKREE!”

5: The Forbidden Forest Of Fuck You

“Hey, you know how we have that one tree that will kill anyone who stands near it?”

“Of course, I already killed three Weasleys with it!”

“Well, I was thinking. We take an entire forest, and fill it with giant spiders and horrible rapemonsters.

“Then we can kill even more Weasleys! Genius!”

4: Potions Class Is Officially The Worst Idea Ever

Hey, everybody! Lets play a game. It’s called “Try And Name A Potion That Won’t Immediately Kill/Harm/Or Lead To Rape”!

Now lets play “Try And Name The Worst Possible Demographic In Which To Supply Rape/Murder/Death Potions To Oh Wait, You Don’t Need To It’s Fucking Teenagers!”.

3: Dementors: What The Fucking Fuck

It suddenly just occurred to me, did they ever explain what Dementors are? I mean, they’re floating demonic monsters that steals souls and they work with the police and hunt dangerous wizards and Jesus why isn’t the Harry Potter series about these guys?! It’d be like Lethal Weapon meets Hellraiser!

Ahem. Anyway.

Once people start getting worried about Serious Black (the no-nonsense hip-hop artist), the faculty decides that letting the spawns of Satan roam the school would be perfectly okay. Geez, we’ve gone from “evil lake” to “evil hall” to “evil tree” to “evil forest” and finally, to “hoards of evil abominations roaming the school”.

That’s… not really a good thing, guys.

Welp, now I’ll never feel joy again. Thanks for that.

2: “I Already Paid Tuition Here, Can I Please Just Get An Education?!”

I’m really starting to think that Hogwarts isn’t actually a school. I mean, what classes do they actually have? Like, REAL classes, not “sparkly magic pansy” classes.

I mean, “astrology” is about the closest they get. (Fun fact: “Arithmancy” is not about math. It’s a way to tell the future. And now you know! And knowing is half the battle.)

1: The Goblet Of Irresponsible Child Endangerment

“Hey, Dumbledore!”

“Yo?”

“Well, I was thinking: We really haven’t killed enough people.”

“You got that right, homedawg.”

“So, here’s the plan: we take all of our least liked students-”

“Like that Harry twat, and maybe Robert Pattinson.”

“-yeah, yeah, then we make them fight dragons!”

“Not deadly enough. Throw in some mermaids. Maybe a satanic hedge maze.”

“Righteous! Wait, do we have to worry about parental supervision?”

“Fuck no. Now, hand me that house elf. I need a new fleshlight.”

“Wow, you are high as balls.”

Totally.

“This Movie Is Actually Physically Painful To Watch.”

30 Mar

There are many, many ways to review a movie. But when an IMDB reviewer describes Parasitic as “actually physically painful to watch”, that’s rarely a good thing.

(Unless Parasitic is actually some kind of revolutionary S&M porno that physically exits the T.V and puts clamps on your testicles, I guess. Then that would be a really good thing.)

The (horror) movie opens with an asteroid that I swear they swiped off Jimmy Neutron crashing in to a satellite, before cutting to a man eviscerating some poor fish while green goo shoots everywhere and Jesus this is not a good way to start a movie. 

The disgusting fish is turned in to sushi, and given to a random schmoe in a funny hat, before immediately jump cutting to some woman’s ass.

See, this is how you start a movie.

Butts make the world go round.

Our hatted protagonist (I’m just kidding, we never see him again) tromps over to a nightclub (over a montage of various asses along with the women attached tp said asses because why not) and gives his hellish sushi to the bartender, who immediately starts swearing him out.

See, in any reasonable movie, this is where he’d shove the chopsticks through her fucking eyes and pour absinthe down the sockets while screaming “I MADE IT FOR YOU” but sadly, that does not happen.

(Well. “Reasonable movie” is perhaps not the right word.)

We then get a thrilling look in to the daily workings of a nightclub band, including swearing, sneaking off to boink, more swearing, boob implants, revenge of the swearing, and sloppy character development. To horribly misquote the DJ, “You people act like I fuck; horribly and you make women cry”.

Actually, I think the DJ is my favourite character. He keeps up a thin veneer of hate and misanthropy which adds a delicious layer of creamy “fuck you” to this cornucopia of cattiness.

STRAWBERRY NOM.

The… DJ, I think? Man, metaphors are really slipping.

The bartender, having hastily devoured her gooey sushi, starts feeling the effects of eating our resident plot device. Her co-workers suggest such afflictions as “roofies”, “alcohol”, “cancer”, “poop”, “lupus”, etc. She dashes in to the bathroom to start vomiting motor oil while our occasional lesbian and burly black guy engage in a giggling slap fight.

Okay, I think that wins the award for “strangest sentence I’ve ever written”. Do I get, like, a cake or something?

And hey, quick question, what do you do if you start vomiting black goo?

If you answered “take your shirt off so everyone can see your boobs”, then congratulations!

You’re a 15 year old boy.

Hell, I actually AM a 15 year old boy, and that’s still a dumbass idea.

(This certainly is becoming a field day for filthy images, isn’t it?)

While the bartender continues vomiting and removing her bra off camera, the actual “club” part of the nightclub engages in the typical shenanigans. You know, doing shots, talking about Star Wars, having absolutely no chemistry and being torturous to watch, the usual.

Unfortunately for the bartender, this particular “parasite” happens to be a chestburster who completely misses and bursts out her neck, as a giant throbbing tentacle penis.

Unfortunately for the audience, this is inter-cut with scenes of the burly security guards talking about butterflies, completely ruining any terror and/or eroticism that this cockmonster could inspire.

Unfortunately for the crew of the nightclub, the only keys to the place are with the bartender… for some reason. (Seriously, don’t the security guards get a key?)

Fortunately for me, I found my secret supply of absinthe for I can get through this godforsaken movie in one piece!

Oh, green fairy, please take me away to place with more believable dialogue!

The cockmonster (I am going to use that phrase as much as I possibly can) kills one of the… somebody. (I have no idea who the hell she was.)

Meanwhile, the rest of the cast bemoan the fact that they can’t leave without the bartender. They describe her as both a control freak AND a corporate puppet, implying that the writer was incredibly drunk when he wrote these scenes and he forgot what words meant.

The “comic relief” (in that it’s a relief when he shuts his fucking mouth) tells a story about how this place used to be a mental hospital/pizza place/S&M dungeon but seeing as this movie is about PARASITES and not ghosts, this is utterly pointless. Which I think is that character’s actual name, to be honest.

Somebody brings up that two people snuck off to screw, and we immediately cut to them screwing.

In clown masks.

What the fuck am I doing with my life?!

Yes, that's me. I'm black now.

Sometimes people ask what I do in my spare time, and I just cry.

Our nightmare couple hear a noise, and the man heads off to investigate, thankfully interrupting their “I-don’t-wanna-know-what”. He walks through the dark, calling out “you’d better not be fucking around out there!”.

Well, what do you call what you were doing?!

After Mr. Bozo gets dispatched, Miss Bubbles tries to find her partner in crime. (If boinking in clown masks isn’t a crime, then there is something seriously wrong in this world.) The cockmonster chases her through the building, getting plenty of ass shots because what else are horror movies for?

The crew all hang around, making fun of each other, laughing about genitals, and being totally unaware that they’re in a goddamned horror movie when do they all die I mean seriously. One of them even complains about “not wanting a parasite stuck to her ass”.

Honey, I think you’re in the wrong movie.

Two characters, the pansy and the trollop, head downstairs to find the plot, and end up in a freezer. The pansy ends up licking the black goo that the bartender vomited up because this movie hates you.

The trollop, meanwhile, gets nabbed by the cockmonster and gets infected, just like everybody else she grabs. YAY! Now we have five gooey monsters with no personality! 

Bloody Christmas came early!

The two security guards find the pansy’s crispy fried corpse and come to the reasonable conclusion that stuff has gotten real, yo. After crunching the numbers, they decide to try and find everybody else because if at first you don’t succeed, then make a horrible movie.

The team (who at this point is composed of another bartender, whom I have dubbed Buttbutt, the comic relief, and the two security guards) wander through the club, alternating between freaking out and trying to desperately insert levity into the scene with all the subtlety and comedy of Cannibal Holocaust.

The cockmonster finally shows up again, but unfortunately now looks more like a manta ray stapled on a zombie so I can’t call it a cockmonster. I will continue to do so, simply because it’s the only form of relief in this whole damn film.

Our plucky team of never-say-die heroes barricade the door from the cockmonster and her army of bargain bin zombies, and that’s when the team starts postulating. They come across the reasonable assumptions of A: they’re all zombies, B: the cockmonster is the ring leader, C: if the zombies get out, it’s the end of the world, and D: I need more booze.

It’s the “Parasitic Drinking Game”! Drink every time this movie makes you want to kill yourself. Repeat until you’re absolutely hammered.

The zombies break in, kill the comic relief (YAY!) and one of the security guards (Awww.), leaving Buttbutt and the last security guard to fight off the zombies. Buttbutt, in the most hilarious of anti-climaxes, just smacks the cockmonster with a Guitar Hero controller. Ta da! Movie over.

OR IS IT?!

The next morning, somebody who the movie expects us to recognize shows up and lets herself in, talking to herself and looking around for why the movie is still rolling. She finds Buttbutt sniffling in a corner, who instructs her not to turn around. I don’t know why she says that, because behind her is a freaking awesome giant monster.

The giant monster says boo, random character wets herself, and roll credits.

Gee. What a charming way to end a movie.

This is an alarmingly accurate poster.

Parasitic is UTTERLY AWFUL, and as a veteran of 1313: UFO Invasion, I don’t make that claim lightly. It’s rare to find a film so blisteringly appalling in it’s every aspect of being, but then again, this is the film that is “actually physically painful to watch”.

Yeah. That’s not hyperbole.

The cinematography, acting, lighting, writing, costume design, setting, basic concept and hell, even the soundtrack are all ungodly awful. Like, literally UNGODLY. I’m not entirely convinced that “Timothy R. Martin” isn’t some kind of code name for “Yog-Sothoth”.

(But, to be fair, the special effects were really cool, and definitely the highlight. That monster at the end rocked several varieties of socks.)

I think the writing in particular deserves the most scorn. These damn people talk like serial rapists if you replaced their “Word-A-Day” calender with a Minstrel Show about Tourette’s Syndrome.

And seriously, what the hell was with those clowns?! Were you just not fulfilling your “Nightmare” quota? Or was this part of your very, very bizarre Bucket List?

“Item one: film clowns boinking. Item two: weep.”

Haunt? More Like Gaunt!

29 Mar

Okay, who’s fucking with me?

I mean, seriously. I waste hour after hour after hour doing nothing but reviewing Slender games, and you know what? It turns out that the Slender Man has another goddamned video game, this one called Haunt.

No, no, no no no, I am DONE with these freaking games. I will not touch this with a ten foot pole. A ten foot pole made out of a tiger. And the pole is on fire.

No, I frankly don’t care that it’s completely unrelated or that it has a story or that it has better graphics, I’m still not playing it. 

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to go be angry at things for no freaking reason!

Damn, It Feels Good To Be A Slender

28 Mar

Everybody put on your fancy suits and pantyhose face masks, because we’re talking about Slender: The Arrival, motherfuckers!

“Hi.”

I’ve talked about the perpetually gangly Slender Man several times by now, so me making a review of the new Slender game is about as shocking as… something that’s really not shocking, I guess.

(Man, analogies are really slipping.)

The Slender Man, for those not in the know, is a faceless man in a suit who can alter space and time and likes to mess around with very incredulous people with shaky cams. He’s become the first new monster in a very, very long time and also the new go-to costume for Halloween parties and I’m not quite sure how to feel about that.

According to the Slender Man Wiki, Arrival has been written by the same guys who made Marble Hornets, which I think is supposed to be a good thing, but clearly whoever made that decision never actually watched Marble Hornets. (It’s the biggest Slender Man augmented reality game, by the way.)

Writing is… not Marble Hornets’ strong suit, so to speak. Telling an engaging story or having likeable characters are two things that it just doesn’t do, which is kind of a problem when you’re writing a video game. The thing Marble Hornets does well is nice, subtle terror. A slight of the hand, as opposed to an impromptu puppet show.

Here, this is a good example.

So the first level, dubbed “Prologue”, in which you have to wander around a normal house searching for “Kate” in the middle of a dark and stormy night, is one of the highlights of the game. Actually, lets not mince words: It’s fucking awesome.

(Although, it’s such a shock-tease. It ends with the scream of a Rake, and then all of a sudden it’s the next level! Good god, what is it with video game designers specifically leaving out the coolest parts of the game?!)

Level two, “The Eight Pages” is the exact same level from the trial AND from the original game and if I talk about this damn level one more time I am going to drive sporks in to my eyes.

The third level, “Into The Abyss”, is the biggest departure from the original. Sure, you’re still running about a dark environment (in this case, some kind of industrial underground warehouse thing), trying to find a certain number of things (in this case, generators), but instead of running away from the Slender Man, now you’re running from Proxies!

I think the Witch just stole the Hunter’s sweater.

(Proxies are human schmucks who became the Pinocchio to Slendy’s Geppetto, if you get my incredibly convoluted metaphor.)

It’s a nice change, but I have no idea what the hell I’m supposed to do! They sprint up, smack you around, then pirouette away before you know what the fuck.

Level four is called “Flashback” which apparently takes place in the house again, but the game won’t stop glitching up long enough for me to finish so for all I know, this level ends with the Slender Man and Proxy tangoing under the moonlight.

And the last level is- wait, what? There’s only FIVE levels?!

Um.

Okay.

I was under the impression that this was going to be a game, with a story and actual characters and a decent friggin’ length and not a random assortment of atmospheric vignettes, but, you know.

I’m flexible.

I will never, ever get tired of this picture.

Or, at least, that’s what all the ladies say.

So, level five: “The Arrival”Apparently this is the point where the game got self aware, and it opens by lighting the stereotypical creepy forest on fire. There’s “hanging a lampshade” and then there’s “lighting the lampshade on fire and tossing it out a window”.

The Slender Man, never one to lay down on the job, takes this opportunity to continue pursuing us through the forest fire while tentacle-fying everything in sight. I’m guessing it was supposed to be a quick, exciting sequence, but I died ten times because the game has some kind of fetish for not explaining things.

After the grand escape in to another underground passage, we trip across an industry standard creepy recording, until all the lights go out one by one, followed by death.

Fucking Vastra Nerada.

So, that’s Slender: The Arrival and… hey, what did I say about it up there?

“Assortment of atmospheric vignettes”?

Yeah, that’s pretty accurate.

Individually, each level is nice and scary and definitely worth the price of admission, but as a whole, it’s just a little bit insulting. The story is non-existent, and I’m not entirely sure if there were any characters.

I mean, what is it with these Slender Man stories and their complete inability to have actual characters?! Holy hell, it’s insane. We need to have one with, like, a smartass protagonist, with a socially inept friend, and maybe with an angry girl sidekick. And they all fight the Slender Man and Proxies and Rakes and maybe some new monsters and-

Hold on, I need to write this.

 

Freshly Riffed 25: At Night, The Ice Weasels Come

27 Mar

Welcome back to Freshly Riffed, the only web series that’s exactly like Sherlock Holmes, in that we can only function if we’re on enough cocaine to kill a bull elephant.

Enjoy that mental image.

Trust me, he’s done ALL of the drugs. All of them. Hell, he probably tried to snort Watson at some point.

According to the zombified remains of John F. Kennedy, Freshly Riffed is where I make fun of the titles of Freshly Pressed blog posts. Also, where the fuck did I get the zombified remains of John F. Kennedy I mean honestly now.

Each title will be linked to the original authors, because it’s the only way to keep the F.B.I off my tail. If you are one of said authors, greetings! Have a cupcake, and remember, all mockery is for mockery’s sake only and should not be taken seriously.

Ahem.

Love, Loved, Light: Licking, loopy, leering, Luthor, lying, lion, lethargic, laxative, lentils, leaning, losers, Lancelot, lippy, landing, listening, Lara, lamprey, left, lumpy, lark, lurk, lurch.

(See, I can list things starting with L too, it’s not that hard.)

You’re Gonna Carry That Weight; Carry That Weight A Long Time: “In retrospect, getting that livelong ‘carry weight forever’ job was perhaps not my best idea.”

Stand Up.: Now, really, out of the quotes from the Cole Train rap, why did you choose that one?

The Shelf Of Shame: I assume that the shelf of shame is nothing but Chet Gecko books, horribly written Twilight fan fiction, and those stupid Angus, Thongs, And Full Frontal Snogging books.

(Why yes, I have actually read that. STOP JUDGING ME.)

The Rainbow In Your Hands: “That’s what you get for high-fiving Liberace!”

No, scratch that, I got a better one!

“I heard of ‘twinkle-toes’, but never ‘dazzler-digits’!”

Okay, okay, one more.

“Stick your hands up my ass and call me a Pride Parade!”

PLAY ME OUT, ALEX!

We Are Fandom, Hear Us Roar: Oh, please. Fandoms don’t “roar”. They more “roll around mewling pathetically, repeatedly bleating out the same tired memes over and over again until everybody in a hundred mile radius wants to bash in their head with a car battery”.

I know, I know. Pot, kettle, black, etc.

The Beatles’ Scariest Songs: I’m pretty sure the only way a Beatles song could be scary is if you stapled a Halloween mask on Ringo.

How To Get What You Want Without Really Trying: (Spoiler warning: The answer is “boobs”.)

Self Portrait Turned Reptile: Goddammit Werelizard get your act together.

Lessons From A Social Media N00B: Uh oh, you just used “N00B” in an experience other than World Of Warcraft.

Now you must die.

“Take the shot.”

Lara Croft, The Human Chew Toy

26 Mar

Hey! Put your hands up if you like watching attractive young women being horribly brutalized in every sense of the word!

(Oh god, please tell me nobody put their hands up.)

Is it just me, or is she staring at the title?

One really has to wonder what’s going on at Tomb Raider HQ. I mean, for pretty much the entire series, the main selling point was Lara Croft’s massive boobage, and now they roll out a prequel and suddenly the main selling point is the pain and subjugation of Croft! Jesus, are you going through your angsty teenager faze? Should I hide the black hair dye and NIN records?

Anyway, new Tomb Raider game! This is normally where I would start explaining the back-story and the premise and all that (my summary would pretty much just be “fuck tigers”, repeated ad nauseum) but this game is a prequel and that means that I can completely ignore all the other games and spend this time dancing in my underwear!

(Enjoy that mental image.)

The plot is, Lara Croft and her team of racial diversified characters who exist only to die at dramatically appropriate moments are the Dragon’s Triangle, which I was shocked to learn is an actual place! Apparently it’s like the Bermuda Triangle, only it hangs out near Japan so presumably that means it involves more [INSERT JAPANESE REFERENCES HERE].

[INSERT PHOTOSHOPPED TENTACLE MONSTERS HERE.] Although, I guess that’s not ALL we’ll be inserting, BOOM!

Unfortunately for Lara, she crashes directly in to an island. Apparently she’s been getting piloting lessons from Isaac Clarke. Said island happens to be the home of about a million cultists who want nothing more than to shove Lara down a pike, Cannibal Holocaust style and also to sacrifice the resident damsel in distress to their Storm Queen.

Well, really, what ELSE are you going to do with a damsel?! Other than making disturbing fan art of course.

Hey, wait a second.

I’ve learnt an important lesson: I will get WAY more views if I include sexy fan art about whatever I’m talking about.

Okay, stupid cheesecake out of the way. Back to the review!

The first hour of this game is one of the worst games I’ve ever played, mostly because of that one word. You know, “played”. As in, A GAME. The entire hour is nothing but quick time event, followed by walking, followed by quick time event. It’s so boring. Nothing really opens up for me until the rape!

Wow, what a poorly worded sentence.

See, after the damsel gets nice and thoroughly distressed, Lara gets captured by the cultists and very nearly raped. But Lara, ever the wily one, kills Mister Rapist and gets her nice little “oh god what have I done” moment, until she decides she must murder every living thing on the island and oh god it is so fun. Squeeeee the murder of my fellow man.

The thrill of sneaking up on a stupid cultist, the tension of the bow as I pull the string back, the soft twang as it enters the soft flesh of my un-expecting victim- these are the things that make me far stiffer than any stupid T&A.

That's a lie.

But, you know. The T&A helps.

And, unfortunately for my snide comments, I both love the combat AND the platforming. Aw, poop. I guess that means I LIKE this game!

WHAT A STRANGE AND UNUSUAL FEELING.

But still, the story remains a nice, fat target for mockery. Namely, for five reasons. First of all, how the hell does Lara survive half this stuff?! She gets dropped down mountains on a regular basis, she explodes, gets stabbed, burnt, hit by lighting, riddled by bullets, etc! What, is she the fucking Highlander?!

Secondly, the final boss of the entire game is a quick time event. Why?! Did the cocaine budget run low and you needed to rush the game out as soon as possible?! Or maybe your “creativity” department just got wasted.

Thirdly, there’s one character whose name I forget, whose entire roll in the story is to disagree with Lara. Lara says yes, she says no. Lara says “lets do something”, she says “sit on our ass”. Lara says “don’t leave”, she says “leave”. Lara says “leave”, she says “never”.

Erik says “fuck off”, she says “actually, I can’t talk with this arrow down my throat”.

Fourthly (is that a word?), the game builds up the climax with the undead Storm Queen the entire game, only to have the entire thing done in a cutscene. Not even a quick time event! Just a cutscene! I spent the entire cutscene waiting for the boss battle to start up, but it never did.

WHAT.

A.

BUNCH.

OF ASS.

And finally, nobody can pronounce her name. It’s LARA. Not “Laura”. Two different names!

(There you go, Mom. Did you think I’d go the entire review without mentioning that?)

Tear Out My Spy-ne

25 Mar

I am always a fan of birthdays, which is why I take the time to shamelessly humiliate myself every time one comes along. And, according to the Omegle home page, today is Omegle’s birthday!

Yay.

In celebration, let’s go through Omegle’s Spy Mode and make fun of the random people who say really, really stupid things. Which, lets face it, is EVERYBODY WHO USES OMEGLE. With the exception of me, who is great.

Ahem.

nicki minaj’s ass!: That’s the least sexy thing I’ve heard since that Fran Drescher audio-book on shaving pubic hair.

Pretend that i am a child and give me “The Talk”: Son, diarrhea is like a storm raging inside you.

Im inlove with a girl that likes me a bit but im to coward to talk to here what should i do?: You put the lime in the coconut, then you feel better.

How sexy is Justin Bieber?: He’s about as sexy as a pomelo, and half a delicious.

What’s wrong with sex with dogs? I just don’t get why it’s illegal.. :(: Allow me to answer your question by screaming incoherently.

AHHHHHHHHARGLEFARGLENRAHHHHHHHHHHLALALALALAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHBROUQOUEOTEYAQOASBAHHHHHHH!

That is all.

why is snot green?: Because God hates you.

I found myself incredibly aroused by the prospect of myself and Sherlock together…only with Sherlock as a bee. Me [CENSORED] all over his little fuzzy bee body and [CENSORED] him hard: BEES DON’T WORK THAT WAY.

Also, bees are scary.

If you can find a place to put your penis in that, you deserve a medal.

HI everyone… im a crippled kid and a couple of bullies stole my crutches and beat the living hell out of me 😦 they whipped out there one eyed monster and gave me a snow storm 😦 help me!: And by “snowstorm”, I assume you mean that they were all weather wizards.

any females wanna KiK a cute guy.? @smoketillichoke_tgod: Okay, why do people keep doing this? Do you honestly expect some girl to say, “Gosh, I am incredibly horny but it’s so sad that I don’t have anyone to KIK with and I lack the ability to alt tab away and find some standard porn for some reason or another and- Gasp! Somebody wishes to KIK with me! And the fact that they just randomly threw it on Omegle without even the effort to first hold up a conversation shows how incredibly committed and thoughtful they are!”

And seriously, who the hell uses “KIK”?