Category: News

I cannot even begin to tell you how refreshing it is letting Hilary Duff handle all of my prank calling needs. It’s really sapped the boredom right out of my Thursday.

OMG. Must. Have. This.

A product that promises to get people drunk 10 times faster without the punishment of a hangover or calories has been banned by the NSW government.

Promoted as the “ultimate party toy”, alcoholic vapour has been a huge hit in London. Once inhaled, the alcohol goes straight into the bloodstream and delivers a “hit”.

“These kind of fad products pose serious threats to the community,” Mr McBride said in a statement.

“Inhalation or snorting of alcohol is basically synonymous with drug use and that kind of practice should not be encouraged.”

FAD? … FAD?!? I’d use this thing more often than my toaster, blender, and shower put together! This stupid bastard has no idea what he’s talking about. If I could breathe liquor, I’d be like Aquaman, only far less gay. And really stinking drunk. And I wouldn’t be able to talk to fish I guess, but I’d probably think that I could, that counts for something, right?

Somebody get me the company’s phone number and a price tag. Poppa’s going shopping.

It’s sad to have to admit this on hump day. But apparently stupidity, like your mother’s herpes, will be with us forever. And today (or yesterday, to be more accurate) it manifested itself inside an outhouse. Walk with me.

A man is recovering from burns after lighting a cigarette in a portable outhouse in Monongalia County, West Virginia, causing the outhouse to explode.

The incident occurred Tuesday morning in Blacksville, West Virginia.

The man’s name and condition aren’t being released, but emergency officials say he wasn’t severely hurt and even drove himself to a clinic.

OK. It’s obvious we’re going to have to do something about our educational system, because if the tide of stupidity is left undeterred, it will wash our nation with its sticky, venomous spittle. I would not be surprised in the least if this moron decided to sue the makers of the outhouse for not providing proper ventilation. Or a no-smoking sign.

I like that they include the bit about how the methane “didn’t take too kindly” to the cigarette. *gasps* NO. This is one situation where putting two and two together is simple enough for a toddler. You don’t leave a ham sandwich (or a baby sandwich for that matter) on Harry Knowles’ desk, leave for five minutes, and then scratch your head when you find it missing.

[ They Might Be Giants + Homestarrunner = Goodness ]

The band hasn’t updated their website in awhile, which is sad since I’d love to see what they do with the next version.

Remember Britney’s little adventure in marriage earlier this year? Of course you do. Well, even if the details of this article are untrue, its still a really fucking fun read.

“We were both hot so I led her into the bathroom. There was a huge shower head that sent water down on to us as though it was rain. We stripped off competely and got into the shower and Britney performed oral sex on me as the water ran down over both of us.

“The sex was mind-blowing and rough. We did it in every position you could think of. It was so wild we managed to fall off the bed together.”

She’s a beast, I knew it! You’re the man now, dog. At least, a stupid man.

“Her brother rang and I spoke to him. He talked about annulment. I didn’t know what the word meant so I didn’t say anything.

“It was unreal, I wanted the best for her, I wanted to be married to her, but it was as though they were just taking everything over. I was on my own. Britney didn’t say anything.

This guy is an idiot, for numerous reasons. First of all, he got to bang the living crap out of Britney Spears for days. He is one of a handful of fellas who’s seen her mouthify his wang. And now he’s bitching about how he didn’t get more out of the deal. That’s ridiculous. You were in Vegas, numbnuts! You hit a fucking jackpot and you complain that you weren’t allowed to let it ride? Yes, I agree, the compulsion to get more out of the situation is tempting, to say the least. But look at it this way: you got to do what every fanboy on the planet wants to do, and then some. You got to stay in Vegas on Britney’s nickel, whilst she was keeping your junk warm. And finally, you get to do all of this, media hooplah and all, and you don’t have to stay married to her. Yes, I realize you could have been banging her for the rest of your life, and you loved her and bla bla bla bla bla. Shut the fuck up.

You know why he’s golden here? He gets spillover bitches. Girls who recognize him as Britney’s ex-husband, and give it up to him just to get that much closer to the whole glitz and glamour lifestyle. He could have milked that for years, but instead he decides to go and get married again. Stupid bastard and his southern family values (which don’t stop him from discussing her sexual glory, even out of respect for his new fiancee, who must be thrilled). I wonder if Christina’s fellas are this fucking stupid?

Gnome Darts just wasted a good half hour of my life.

I’ve kept the sound down the whole time. I like to envision Tom Bosley’s voice as I hurtle these little pointy-hatted fuckers at the wall.

[ Images From An Old 70’s Scientology Handbook ] – Oh man, some of these are gold, even without their obvious photoshopness-appeal.

Ashlee Simpson makes me want to vomit my brains out into a running blender, conveniently set to “frappe.”

This is what happens when you fall asleep with the TV on. God, or the electric company, is punishing me for wasting precious resources.

So I went to see Spider Man 2 again. Sober this time, because I wanted to make sure that my original assessment of the film was pure and untainted. I have to say that upon watching it a second time, I did like it a bit more. A lot of the dialogue that previously made me want to vomit now merely gave me gas. Much to the dismay of my seatmates, I might add.

There are still a couple of spoiler-free problems that I have with the flick, which I’m afraid I will have to discuss with you now. So sit down, maybe grab a cheese sandwich or something.

• Problem the first: Doctor Octopus is a normal dude with big mechanical arms. Spider-Man is a biologically enhanced man with enough strength to bench press a Buick. When Spider-Man punches regular people, he’s gotta take special care not to stuff his fist right into their grey matter. Trust me, it’s messy. Yet in this film, Spider-Man socks Doc Ock about 80 times, really really hard. Enough so that you can see him crush pieces of building when he misses. Had he been hitting Otto with even half that kind of power, 80 smacks to his merely human mug would have him looking slightly worse than the artists rendition to the right.

  I’ve heard a lot of folks stating that perhaps his little inhibitor chip kept him from feeling pain. Even if this were true, he wouldn’t be able to spew that witty banter if his jaw were hanging down to his sternum. If they’d made the Doc super strong or something, I would have overlooked it. If he’d only been hit once or twice, again, I can suspend disbelief. But Spider-Man used to end his fights with Ock with a single punch, and I beleive on one occasion a flick of his finger. You can’t have the strongest guy in town socking Joe Schmo without spilling a few pints of blood.



• Problemo Numero Dos: The web to nowhere. At the end of the movie, Spidey swings away on what seems to be nothing whatsoever. Now, I would imagine from a later shot that he swings to this crane thats nearby, but there is no establishing shot to make you think that there’s anything but fucking river around them. Not to mention that he seems to be ascending as if carried by some sort of web-chopper. This is just bad directing, and I expect far better out of Sam Raimi.

  I shouldn’t have to laugh out loud because a pivotal moment looks fucking ridiculous.

• Problemo the last, for now: The script. Who fucking wrote this drivel?
  

  “I’m telling you, T.S. Eliot is more complicated than advanced science!!”

  I fucking hate whoever did this. The man is attempting to sound like one of the smartest cookies on the planet for ten minutes, and you finalize his diatribe with something a three year old might say. I don’t know shit about poetry, but I certainly don’t tell anyone that it’s “more complicated than web… uh…. junk!” It just sounds stupid, especially coming from an advanced science… guy.

Well, like I said. I enjoyed it more the second time, but I’m still not feeling the Spidey fever that everyone else seems to be stricken with. And now I take my leave of you.

So I guess Nintendo is releasing the next wave of Famicom Mini games for the GBA. The lineup is pretty interesting, to say the least. Take a look:

• Famicom Mini Vol. 21 Super Mario Bros. 2
• Famicom Mini Vol. 22 Nazo no Murasame
• Famicom Mini Vol. 23 Zelda II: The Adventure of Link
• Famicom Mini Vol. 24 Metroid
• Famicom Mini Vol. 25 Palthena’s Mirror (Kid Icarus)
• Famicom Mini Vol. 26 Shin Onigashima
• Famicom Mini Vol. 27 Famicom Tantei Kurabu: Kieta Koukeisha
• Famicom Mini Vol. 28 Famicom Tantei Kurabu II: Ushiro ni Tatsu Shoujo
• Famicom Mini Vol. 29 Akumajou Dracula (Castlevania)
• Famicom Mini Vol. 30 SD Gundam World: Gachapon Senshi Scramble Wars

OK, now Super Mario Bros 2 is the real Super Mario Bros. 2, not the fake one we got here in the states. So I’ve got nothing against that. But Metroid? We just had fucking Metroid: Zero Mission released a few months ago. Unless I’m a complete purist, why would I pay 20 bucks for the priveledge of playing this game yet again? Some fucking balls on this company. Goddamn them for throwing in Zelda 2, Castlevania, and Kid Icarus into the mix, otherwise I could spit on their company and remain completely alone on my high holy throne. Instead, I must be careful not to lose $60 on shit that I have free on emulators anyway.

Thank God that over half of this wave of retro shit is Japanese crap that I was never exposed to as a kid, otherwise my pants would have exploded in a glorious orgasm of wonton game lust. For one, I’d be none the richer, and secondly, my pants would be a wretched mess.