The Daily Rossman (est. 1975) is the world's oldest web B.L.O.G.G. (Bitchin' Legendary Online Godcomplex Gazette). Not that I live an extraordinary life or anything (the government hit squads and the Ninja Assassins Guild have all cut back on their programs directed at ME lately, mostly thanks to a couple of well-placed letters in Jimmy Jammer's handwriting threatening all of their mothers), but sometimes I do accidentally maim a couple of dozen people, or unwittingly have my robot kill an assload of old folks; and I find that I want to share these happy stories with you, the general public.
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ONIcon 1998: The Con Of The Century!
Note to self 303: 04/04/2007
I took the nephews and Bob From the Future to see Disney's 3D time-traveling movie Meet the Robinsons this weekend (I brought Bob From the Future because I wanted to get his impression on the film's space-time theory). The kids and I enjoyed the flick a lot, but about halfway through the movie Bob From the Future shook his head in amazement and stated, "But that's... No way! If their treatment of the 4th dimension is true that that would mean that I shouldn't exis--..." And then he faded away. The boys didn't even remember him or seem to miss him, but that's typical of Bob From the Future, and might not have anything to do with his essence fading from existence.
Anyway, after that I went over to Wal-Mart in order to pick up some Drano or something so that I could unclog my sink after the Wolfman shaved his back at my house last week (I was out of town and in no way helped or even insisted that he needed his fur removed [yes, the carpet that the Wolfman grows on his body is gross and all, but far be it from me to tell a dude to shave it... a LADY on the other hand, yeah, I'll step in there and help her out], the Wolfman just didn't want to stop-up any more of his own sinks is all). So I went back to the plumbing aisle and started looking at the bottled acids to see which was powerful enough to eat my fucking pipes themselves (that's the only kind of corrosive strength that can cut through yards of thick Wolfman hide jamming up my plumbing). I picked up a plain-looking bottle of something called "Steel Contained POW'R!", checked it over once, and then quickly placed the steel-contained liquid power down on the shelf again when I felt something eating through my hand. Yes! Not even STEEL could truly contain this shit! I bought a slightly newer bottle (one that I figured bought me another week or two before it melted its protective shell completely), but not before washing my hand for a full 10 minutes, and thusly saving the bones from the same fate as the rest of my once fleshy hand, and then trying to warn no less than FOUR Wal-Mart employees about the health hazard in aisle 10. Nobody fucking acted on it. Unbelievable. I hope some 3 year-old toddler didn't come around and start playing in that puddle that was already on the shelf.... Yet. I mean, I want to get a camera set up first so that I can catch that shit on film! Oh man, if watching a kid's fingers melt off doesn't net me $10,000 on America's Funniest Home Videos, then nothing will... Except maybe some grandma or a midget doing it. Hmm, I wonder if Tootsie Bubbles is available. Oh, that's right. Nope. He's not.
And that shit ate through my pipes, and my floor, just like Alien blood, but it left the fur-clog in place... Ugh, guess I'll have to move again.
Note to self 302: 03/21/2007
Wow! The Ides of March and St. Patrick's Day both in the same week! What are the odds! And speaking of St. Paddy's Day, this year was quite a special one. That real, authentic and midgety leprechaun that I ordered from Dr. Dave years ago (back when he was having his "buy one set of animal or human genes, get another set blended in for free" sale -- I ordered human dwarf DNA mixed with that of a wolverine... it seemed like a good idea at the time) finally came in! And man was that fucker vicious!
I brought the genetichaun along with me to Mehve's house for his Green Beer/Red Blood Festival of Madness (at least that was what it was called after the fact), and man did he/it have a good time! I dressed the little fella up in shades of emerald, and decorated him with nothing but glued on Lucky Charms cereal pieces. Oh my Gods, he was so damn precious! He only ate about half of the bits of cereal off his little coat by the time we arrived at the party, but then he immediately began to strip the moment he saw some of the female guests -- then the leg humping began. Just fyi, but the leg humping wasn't necessarily saved solely for the women. Or the humans. Or the animate objects.
Other than that, the lil' fella kept himself generally well behaved, only raping a couple of cats and diving into the trash can (still naked, except for his tiny, green, plastic bowler cap that I had previously stapled to his head) once throughout the whole night. But after I passed out in the bathroom he apparently took that as his chance to "let loose," as it were. I'm told that's when he started the murder spree. He took out Jimmy Jammer by jumping onto his chest and pounding the annoying one's face in with one of the Wii controllers -- and he didn't stop until a few minutes after Jimmy Jammer's head became nothing more than a mess of a stain on Mehve's carpet due to the fact that the genetic midget-freak was entranced by how the boxer on the TV matched his punching movements perfectly, every time he raised and lowered one of his tiny fists with the Wiimote tucked in it (someone took pictures. His smile is adorable as the blood and gunk was flying!). But then he apparently went too far and killed and ate part of the neighbor's dog, Mr. Scrapps. That's when the double-barrelled shotgun was brought out, and not even the leprechaun's puppydog eyes could save him from the hellfire that burst forth from Mehve's firearm that night. That's when I woke up, scooped up what remained of Tootsie Bubbles (what I posthumously named the ex-genetic freak), and took him home for a proper burial... Inside one of Dr. Dave's industrial-sized ovens.
Also, I'm hoping that somebody involved in law could help me out here... Am I legally responsible to inform anybody [with whom Tootsie Bubbles came in direct contact that night] that they should probably go to the doctor to get some tests run? See, if I personally was a carrier of Hepatitis-C and a new strain of AIDs-Ebola, you bet your ass I would... but as it turns out Tootsie Bubbles had written a small, little will (which I just found in my car last night) in which he specifically wrote "DO nots TeLL them I has HeppY-Ccc and The AIdsEbola! NO TELL!" Seriously, that was the little guy's last wish... How do you ignore a
person's thing's last will and testament?
Note to self 301: 03/07/2007
Gunbuster on a fucking movie-theater-sized screen is something everybody should experience at least once in their life. Team Greenwood and Mehve made my dream come true this past weekend. *Sniff* I'm just so happy right now!...
But soon after the screening everybody started talking about different stuff and a topic came up that really boiled my cock and balls.... Normally I'd do my best to avoid ranting on the Daily like this, but this topic just needs to be talked about. I'm referring to the upcoming Melancholy of Suzumiya Haruhi DVDs, and how the American release of this series is going to be royally fucked up.
First of all, the original Japanese broadcast of Haruhi was shown deliberately out of chronological order (i.e. the first episode shown was really number 11 or so if shown in the order that things actually occurred... then episode 2 was really 1, 4 was actually something like 9, etc. etc.), and it was good. The way mysteries were played out in this way made it a fucking joy to figure it out for yourself, not to mention that the ending of the series ending in broadcast order was big, meaningful, and a real finale (despite it being episode 6 in chronological order)... Whereas the chronological order ending was a laid back rainy day episode. Not much of a way to finish a show of this energy.
All of this is covered in my review of the show. What I want to bitch about now though is the treatment of the upcoming American release of this series. Kadokawa Pictures USA (the American distributor of Haruhi) is releasing the show in chrono order (CO from now on), not broadcast order (BO). No. Hell no! Yes, this is a very trivial thing (in the vastness of the cosmos) to be concerned about, but this is pissing me off just as much as Michael Bay's shitty rendition of The Transformers, and my philosophy on the matter still stands: "If you're going to do something, do it right." Neither Kadokawa nor Bay are "doing it right."
What gets me is that Kadokawa USA, and quite a few fan sites, put up polls to see how the American fans wanted this series released: CO or BO. The fans were overwhelmingly in favor of BO. On Kadokawa's ASOSBrigade site alone they had 2 polls for the same question, seemingly to MAKE SURE that this is what the fandom wanted -- the first poll was something like 90% for BO, 3% for CO and 7% didn't care... the second poll on the same subject had like 95% for BO, 1% for CO and 4% didn't care. So what are we getting for our DVDs? Why, of course CO.... Whaaaaaaaa?
Kadokawa quickly put out a press release stating that they initially TRIED to get the Japanese parent company to allow them to release the series in BO, but they were refused. Why? Dunno, but let me make this clear: THE JAPANESE SHOWED THIS SERIES IN BO ON TV! It was CLEARLY the correct way to first view it. I've seen it both ways (BO first of course), and there is no comparison -- BO is the only way to go the first time one watches this show. Anyway, Kadokawa then tried to placate the fans by saying "Do not fear! For we shall be releasing 2-Disc SPECIAL EDITIONS of each Haruhi volume as they come out! The regular editions will be $29.95, and the Supah Special Editions will be $64!! -- and the SEs will have a bonus disc (starting with SE volume 2) that will have the show in BO (subtitled only)! So EVERYBODY will be happy!"
Let me get this straight: Haruhi will be released in 4 volumes. The 1-Disc releases will be in CO (which nobody wanted), have an English dub, and be only $30. The SPECIAL EDITIONS will contain both the 1-Disc release, and starting with volume 2 will contain an EXTRA disc that has the series in the correct order, subtitled only, and will have the entire 14 episode show crammed into 3 discs (the SE bonus discs on volumes 2 through 4)... And everybody online is PRAISING Kadokawa for giving the fans what they wanted. Whaaaaaa? This is most definitely NOT what I, nor anybody I know, WANT.
So let's see, if you pre-order each of the 1-Disc sets online you pay only $22 for it. $50 for the SE (online pre-order). If you buy all 4 volumes of the 1-Disc set you end up only paying $88 total. Even if you only buy the last 3 SE sets (the ones with the BO on the second discs) you end up paying $150 total. $200 if you're stupid and buy the first SE volume as well. Yes, this is exactly what I was hoping for... Mongos.
Why should we be fucking thankful for this ass-raping? "But, but, Kadokawa SAID that this was the best they could do for us fans! Be happy!" you stammer, while wiping the retard drool from your lower lip. Bull and shit. If the Japanese parent company was truly against the BO, as Kadokawa USA states, YET they were able to talk them into even this (releasing the BO on a SE set), then Kadokawa could have done a LOT better than making people who just want the BO pay close to twice the amount than people who plan to settle for the CO. Here's a "for instance" from the top of my head: Make each BO disc available online only for $20 each volume (if you insist on making it without an English dub). And just make the Special Edition DVDs the BO and ONLY the BO... What's with making the fans who want the BO purchase the regular edition as well as the SE "bonus disc" and charging them MORE THAN TWICE for this honor?!
Kadokawa USA, you insult us. And for all the fans who think that this is such a great deal (being charged $64 [suggested retail price] for the SE)... well, you obviously suck at math and like to suck the dick of whoever dangles a fucking Twinkie in front of your fat face, but who only gives you that Twinkie (half-eaten and stale) after you complete your blowjob, swallow, and proceed with shoving your tongue down the Twinkie-handler's asshole (that he hasn't washed or wiped in over three weeks). You people disgust me. I'll end up only buying the regular discs myself, and only waiting till I get them all so that I can show anybody I want the series in its correct BO... All those poor fucks who'll never know the proper way to first see this show... It's a crime. Fuck you, Kadokawa USA.
Note to self 300!!!!!!!!!: 02/14/2007
Who the fuck would have ever guessed that my 300th Daily Rossman post would be a fucking Valentine's Day entry? Ugh....
Anyway, this past Saturday and Sunday, in order to spend the weekend leading up to V-Day properly, I spent all my time with the one person in this world with whom I can never get enough of, and whom I love enough to actually spend MAD amounts of money on without even worrying about what my bank account says: ME. V-Day has become one of those Hallmark holidays that just pisses me off. Even in years in which I actually do have a chickie and the likely possibility of getting laid, I absolutely REFUSE to cave in and "celebrate" a day in which the only people who actually profit from its existence all work in the flower or chocolate industries. ANY date with me is like Valentine's Day (except that one time I took Shelley out and we ended up at Mr. Fioretino's funeral... that was more like Halloween than V-Day). I go all out all the goddamn time! But to have a day whereby men are basically told by a card company "you HAVE to be even MORE romantic on this day than on any other..." well, that pisses me off.
Back to this weekend though. This year I spent the entire weekend catching up on TV shows (Rome, Battlestar Galactica, Dresden Files, Extras, and Kim Possible [which finally started its 4th season... shut the fuck up! Kim and Ron rule!]) and movies (Azumi, Shinobi: Heart Under Blade, The Last Unicorn [okay, this one was for Karen who stopped by on Saturday, but I'm man enough to admit that I like it myself], and Rawhead Rex) that I had been meaning to watch again, played some more Twilight Princess and Wii Bowling, saw Norbit at the theater (meh...), and then watched the first 7 episodes of the (soon to be reviewed) anime Kamisama Kazoku. On top of that I even got two nights of 10+ hours of sleep (oh, that's far from a record, just a very pleasant change of pace from recent weekends). In short, it was awesome.
While at the movie theater for Norbit I also got some huge guy in big ass trouble for being a cheap bastard too. He was at the concession counter and all he would spring for for his girl was a small popcorn and a medium drink, despite the fact that she kept telling him as he ordered "Oh no you di'n't! Just a SMALL?! I can swallow a small bag of popcorn faster than you pop your goddamn pills! Uh uh! You better get me a large, cheap fucker!" He was all like "Yo, bitch, this shit is expensive! Why you gots to be like that?! I'm buying this for you and all you do is complain! Jeesus!" Then, while they were still arguing, I got to the register next to them and loudly stated, "I will have two large popcorns... One for me and one for my sweetie... One large Coke to share, two boxes of Snow-Caps and M&Ms... Peanut, of course.... Hmmmm, and a bag of Twizzlers. Why not?" The bitchin' woman then pimp-slapped her man, grabbed him by the ear and explained that THAT'S how you treat a woman if you want some action that night!... But as they disappeared around the corner I then told the busy as a beaver concessionaire "Oh, I'm just fucking with you... $8 for one large popcorn?! Ha! That's bullshit, buddy.. Nah, I'm just here to tell you that the 2nd toilet in the men's room is clogged up thanks to a massive dump. Thanks, champ!" Pretty damn good weekend if I do say so myself.
Note to self 299: 01/24/2007
First of all I have to give out some Mad Crazy Most Non-Heinous Props to my friend Mehve. Everybody needs a friend like Mehve. This guy went completely out of his way to get me my very own Nintendo Wii. He doesn't even have one for his lonesome, but he heard my plight and the first one he came across he gave to me. I don't think I will ever be able to repay the man without a high class hooker. Hats off to you, Mehve!
The Wii's been keeping me pretty occupied lately (what with Mii creation, Wii Sports, and Zelda: Twilight Princess), but I did manage to get out and see Pan's Labyrinth this past weekend. Holy goat shit, what a dark, cruel and disturbing movie. I thought it was going to be like a Spanish "Jim Henson's Labyrinth" -- you know, like fun and musical, and strange, but endearing... I totally missed the "Rated R" rating until I got to the theater. And that ending... As far as I could tell it could go either way -- either the happiest of endings, or the saddest ending possible. Call me a pessimist, but I'm still pretty bummed out days after catching it. My interpretation of that final shot is not the rosiest. Anyway, after feeling all depressed and despondent for a day, I decided to go visit Dr. Dave to see what he could do to remedy the situation.
The good doctor gave me some horse pills to bring my downheartedness down a peg or two, and then he showed me something that blew my mind: Dr. Dave had actually genetically MADE all the creatures from Pan's Labyrinth! The sadistic faun, those demonic little faeries, the pale (faerie-eating) man, that giant, slimy toad... All stored in cages in the doc's lab. I never asked if he had been commissioned by the director to create these disturbing critters or if he had just taken the movie as a challenge and artificially birthed them as a middle finger to the rest of the scientific world that chose to shun him and continued to try and turn him in to the police for various crimes against man and nature... I didn't want to know. I never want to know.
So in order to take out the rest of my frustrations for being so emotionally abused at the end of their movie (and for what they did to that poor little girl!) I got out my Big Stick of Justice (I always carry it with me ever since Carl found out that it was I who spray painted "I'm a momma's boy who LOVES his enemas!" on the side of his car [he knew it wasn't Jimmy Jammer, despite the faked signature, since I accidentally didn't misspell anything]) and proceeded to beat the ever-living black-magic shit out of every one of those unhallowed heathens! Goat brains on the ceiling, frog guts against the windows, and stomped faerie corpses all over the goddamn place. It was as if a magical Saving Private Ryan took place within Dr. Dave's holding pens. If that didn't teach that evil fucking goat-guy who's boss, then absolutely nothing will.
Note to self 298: 01/10/2007
Post #298! Wow, just two more to go to the big Three-Oh-Oooooooh.
I finally got myself a Nintendo DS last week, and I fucking LOVE that little thing! I've actually been playing it more than I've been looking up pr0n on the intarwebs! New Super Mario Bros: awesome. Tetris DS: sweet. Mario Kart DS: orgasmic. The only thing that sucks is that none of my friends either have a DS or have Tetris or Mario Kart for it, so I have to play strangers on the DS Live Link... Scratch that. What I meant to say is that I have to play complete ASSHOLES on the DS Live Link. Assholes who apparently do nothing but play Gameboy DS all day and night.
Honestly, I'm not a bad gamer. I'm far from the best, but I ain't terrible (except at FPSs... which all suck). All of my friends and I are at about the same skill level too (we've been playing Mario Kart, Mario Golf, Tetris, etc. together for years, and each game usually has a different winner), which makes it fun to play since you never know how the hell any individual round/race is going to turn out. ONLINE is a different story.
While playing Tetris against some dick on the intarnets I was only able to clear about 20 lines before being eliminated by blocks that he kept sending over to my game. The next opponent only allowed me to get 16. Playing on my own I usually end a game with something between 120 and 160 lines. Fuck that! Then it was Mario Kart time. I had cleared all the courses in the 50cc and the 100cc (gold each time), and a bronze in the first two cups in 150cc on my own... Not too shabby really for a week's worth of playing. Online though I almost got fucking lapped by the guy in the lead. Jeesus fucking Christ, how the shit is that even possible?! I can't even lap my nephews and they spend the whole race careening into the railings the whole way through! Either the guy/girl was using a Game Genie or some shit (making him/her the biggest gaming fag in the world), or they were actually merging with their DS and they BECAME Princess Daisy's jaloppy. I played about 20 more times on Mario Kart, finishing last almost every goddamn time, and then I quit. In my final game, when it was just me and one other racer competing, that bleeding heart douche gave me a half a lap headstart out of pity (he didn't even begin until I was on the far end of the track), and I barely ended up beating his ass. Now that I think about it, mommy probably told him to either take out the trash or set the dinner table or make pee-pee before beddy time. Whatever it was, I took it, but then quit. It was a hollow victory at best.
This is why I don't play WoW or EverQuest or anything. Online games are filled with nothing but dicks and assholes. No pussies. And no optional skill levels (what's up with that?). So, before any of you reading this say, "Hey, Rossman, I will play teh MarioKarts with you on teh DS!@!" let me just say this outright: NO. No way in hell. For all I know I already played you and you used me like a male prostitute uses a condom: like a freight train through a chocolate tunnel. NO.
Note to self 297: 01/03/2007
Oh man... Once more, new year, same as before. Opie and Anthony are helping on the old XM Radio, but I still do not want to be back in the old factory making glue for the bindings for gay pr0n mags. My heart's just not in it today....
Anyway, I had a nice little end-of-year break. It was a good Christmas (no Wii, but got over $300 in gift certificates at Horny Heidi's House of Hoo-has... I'll be busy for a week!), a great Chick-Fil-A Bowl (fuck yooooooooooooooou, VT!), and I got plenty of movie watching (Pirates 2, King Kong Extended Edition, classic Gojira and V for Vendetta) and TV watching (Welcome to the NHK, and My Name is Earl) in, following everything up with a fabulous New Year's Eve party.
For New Year's this year (since some Mormons already wrangled all of Greenwood to their house for some surprise New Year's gospel readings and shit [I never would have guessed that signing the gang all up for that listserv would ever come back to bite me in the ass like this]) I had some close friends over to my place for some Wii Sports (that Marksy was oh-so-generous to bring), shared mocking of Dick Clark's Rotten New Year's and awful condition (the man is no longer the immortal he once was... now he's a joke), and some Marx Brothers marathoning thanks to TCM. All in all it was a subdued, but great night -- until it hit midnight. Everybody had totally forgotten that last year Carl's resolution was to stop sucker punching people in the face and groin, and that all ended at the stroke of midnight on the 31st/1st. Also, apparently Robot Pedro's programming was off by a few years and the Y2K virus hit him with a vengence at that time as well. All of his internal weapons started discharging, and Comrade took some robo-mace to the face... and five explosive rounds to the chest. Then after Carl had punched Rob Roy in the mouth (six times) he turned to face the evil automaton and the Ultimate Showdown of Ultimate Destiny took place right in my own living room. Karen, Marksy and I got out alive, and I made damn sure that Marksy's Wii made it too. But after we rounded a corner Marksy grabbed the Wii and shoved Karen and I down a hill and into a creek, and ran off into the darkness with his Nintendo. The next day I rebuilt Robot Pedro (using parts of Carl -- it was a helluva fight) and ordered him to either retrieve the Wii or kill Marksy. Well, I shouldn't have used part of Carl's brain for the new CPU as Robot Carldro killed the Wii and retrieved Marksy's genitals... Why the hell do I even tell you these things?...
Note to self 296: 12/20/2006
Last Daily of the year, and so it's just a mish-mash of shit going on recently.
I tried one last time to get a goddman Wii this year (waking up at 12:30AM on Sunday to get over to the local Target for their supposed 23 systems they'd be selling starting that morning). Apparently most retailers were holding their supplies of the things until this week, the last week before Christmas, for some really gay reason... So I got to Target at 1AM and was met with a parking lot that was 1/3 full. People were already packing up their camping gear though, as the store manager was called in due to the mass of
assholes people sleeping in front of the store for the Wii. They gave out the last ticket 5 minutes before I had gotten there (not that 5 minutes would have made a difference as apparently the 23rd person in line had gotten there at 10PM, thus pissing off the other 60 people behind him). COCK! Lines were well beyond the max number of Wiis to-be-available at Best Buy, Circuit City and Toys R Us too, so there was no point even trying to get one that night. So instead I went from gas station to gas station and filled up a Super Soaker (that I always carry with me) with stagnant urine from all the unflushed toilets, and then sprayed down all of those faggots in line like I was hosing down prisoners who were just about to get deloused. Trust me, it only improved the fanboy funk.
Also this weekend, Dr. Dave had apparently been fucking around with time and space again, and accidentally converted the MegaPlayboy's "hooker suite" at the local Splashy Trashy Motel, off of Interstate 20, into an 8th dimensional portal into madness. Every object in the room became something more... Like the scissors could cut paper, AND stab somebody in the eye; the room key could open any door in the room, AND get shoved into a cat's rectum (which could then be used as a slashing weapon of feral feline fury); the watch could tell time AND be used as makeshift brass knuckles. Wow, in order to find out all those other uses for those objects (and more) the MegaPlayboy must have been pissed at the good doc for running his experiment while the MPB was busy entertaining Julie "the Stoolie"... and she's not named that because she's a stoolpigeon. Honestly, I hope the MegaPlayboy tips the motel cleaning staff something major for the job they have to do once he's done in room 10.
And finally, Christmas is upon us, Just Kidding's birthday just passed (I am goddamn serious here, my offer is still on the table, hon), Festivus is about to begin (can't wait for the "airing of grievances" and the feats of strength! I know I can take Great Grand-Pop this year! I knew those cataracts were a blessing in disguise), and then I have a week to prepare for New Year's. The way Matt^3 and Marksy have been talking, this year may well top last year AND the I Can't Believe I'm Not Dead Party from four years ago... Oh man, my liver still hurts when I think about that bash. This year I've heard rumors of "donkey shows," stripper-hookers, hooker-strippers, and 10 kegs of everything from Killian's and imports to PBR and Ice House. If you don't hear from me next year it's because I died happy, with a smile on my face, a pint in my hand, and a sweet stripper ass on my lap. 'Tis indeed the "most wonderful time of the year."
Note to self 295: 11/15/2006
Midterm elections were last week, and the Democrats took back the House and the Senate... Quite honestly I don't feel one way or the other about this. It was kind of like watching the Super Bowl when you hate both teams. You really don't cheer or get excited when one team or the other scores or ultimately wins. You just watch and pretend to care because you're an American, and that's what America is all about (the Super Bowl more than free elections).
On another front, both the Sony PS3 and the Nintendo Wii are coming out this week. I'll be getting a Wii, thank you, for the sole purpose of getting my dirty, dirty little hands on the new Zelda. The PS3 intruigues me though... Yes, I will eventually get one when it comes down in price (to about $200... in probably 5-6 years), but $600 for a goddamn gaming system?! That's more than my car payment, and I drive a fucking Ferrari (that's at least what I painted on the side of it)! And Sony STILL claims that they're taking a loss on each system sold. What the FUCK do they have in those PS3 cases? Solid bars of gold? Leprechauns? Leprechauns made of solid gold? Fuck the BluRay... You should have made it an add-on later, Sony, like Microsoft's doing with the X-Box 360 and HD-DVD. Gamers don't really give a shit about Blu-Ray, and Blu-Ray buyers don't want a cheap-ass Blu-Ray player (like the PS2 had the shittiest DVD player ever in it). Personally I see the Big N and Microsoft coming out ahead at the end of this generation of console systems. Pisser for Sony, but that was a retarded move (and hell, I just might have to eat my words when all is said and done, but I doubt it, because I am a god here, and I know everything [well, everything about the important things, like video game systems and pr0n sites]).
Also, another Uber-Week coming up, and that means sweetness and awesomenacity. I actually lost 15 lbs in the past two months in preparation for this year's events. I even did most of my uber-food shopping (frozen buffalo wings, White Castle burgers, giant bag o' Peanut M&Ms, mini chocolate muffins, ice-cream, pizza bites, etc. etc.) and I got my game all ready to go. This year I have Kingdom Hearts II primed to play, and hopefully I can conquer it all before 00:00 hours on Sunday morning when I pick up my Wii and Zelda. Then I play that till I either run out of snacks, beat Ganon's piggy ass, die of a coronary from packing on those 15 lbs again in one short week, or am forced to go to Jaime's house for Thanksgiving. If that last one happens though I'll just bring the Wii with me and set it up on their kitchen TV. The remote is wireless, so I can play while I eat -- stab the stuffing, bash the turkey's chest in, and flip the cranberry sauce with my badass Wii moves... Yes, I sound gay, but I'll be gay with my Wii and you'll just be jealous.
Note to self 294: 11/08/2006
Busy week behind me, and a busy few weeks ahead. As for this past week, the Wolfman and I went to see Little Jimmy Norton at the Punchline in Atlanta on Saturday, and we both pissed our pants in joy as that bald fucker did his dirty, racist act. God I love you, Jimmy! Sure, if Jimmy and Steven Wright ever got into a fist fight Steven would probably kick Norton's ass (it's always the quiet ones who are the biggest badasses), but Jimmy is a quicker thinker on his toes, and is infinitely more disgusting in his stand-up than Steven. Sorry, Stevey. No point there besides I'd let my sister Jaime bang Jimmy if she wanted to. I'd FORCE her to if she didn't want to.
Then the Wolfman and I went to see the Borat movie. It was funny as Hell. A little too much male nudity for my hetero-taste, but I chuckled. I guffawed. I snorted with laughter a few times. But what Borat REALLY did for me was get my sense of adventure pumping again! After seeing that Kazakstanian (?) journalist travel America and mock all the stupid fucks he met from sea to shining sea, I came upon a revelation: there are stupid fucks all around the world! I should visit them all and punch them all in the kidneys! And so it began. I first ran down to Texas, found a couple of people running across the border, and punched them both in the kidneys. The fat woman I punched twice, but it turned out that she was really 9 months pregnant and my punching kick-started her labor. Quickly, I grabbed the woman and ran with her 100 yards back the way she came, then I helped her give birth... In Mexico. Ha! Fuck you, you stupid anti-gringo! Tried to sneak in and have your ugly kid (not a racist comment as I find Latino women to be second in beauty only behind hot, naked Asians -- the kid was just seriously butt-ugly) on American soil, thereby guaranteeing his citizenship! Not on my watch! Then I said something poorly translated into Spanish and did a little American cultural dance while I waited for the Border Patrol to arrive and send the three of them back to Mexico City, C.O.D.
Then I flew to France... Which was having more riots by angry Islamists, but I still found some restaurant owner who refused to let me wash my dirty American boxers in the water pitcher that he was using to fill up his guests' drinking glasses. He got all pissed, then I grabbed a baguette and shoved it down my pants while he started calling me a dirty, Irish, Jew bastard. Then I gave him a high five, and then punched him in the crotch just to switch things up a little.
After that I went to the Middle East (does it really matter what country) and I started singing the American National Anthem. Then they killed me. It was fucking awesome!