Push, Mofo, Push!

Out of some level of what must be either obscene curiosity or crippling masochism, I follow Nintendo's release schedule for their 3DS eshop every single week. Every Thursday, Nintendo releases new "games" upon this "service" as they typically sit in their headquarters, laughing evilly while stroking a cat with one hand and rubbing their chins with their other hand.

Pictured: Nintendo of America

Now granted, you may notice that I used quotes above around both the words "games" and "service". This is because more often than not, Nintendo releases something shitty like a black and white version of golf or Pac-Man and calls it a day. Essentially, it's like going to a shoe shine booth, after hearing that the worker gives special deals once a week on Thursday, only to have him spit on your shoe and ask for 10 dollars. Sure, maybe he charged you 5 bucks less than he would have any other day, but in the end, you're still the schmuck with a dirty shoe that now has saliva on it. And when you have Nintendo fans waiting curiously to see what gifts you come bearing this week, releasing the shittiest possible version of some game no one cares about is truly the equivalent of throwing a saliva-covered shoe right into the goddamn faces of your fans.

And honestly, who throws a shoe?

Now, the reason I bring up the Eshop and all it's torture is because Nintendo did something strange this week. This past week, Nintendo released a game which was not only not complete and utter shit, but actually enjoyable to an obscene level. You see, I would compare this last week's release of Pushmo as the "needle in a haystack" of eshop releases, but I feel like that simile doesn't truly give the game justice. You see, Pushmo is more than that. Pushmo is the glistening pearl in the sack full of turd that is the eshop. It is the delicious ice cream in the pit full of piranhas that is the eshop. IT IS THE GODDAMN HAY IN THE NEEDLESTACK OF THE ESHOP. Granted, by the time you dig through that many needles, your hand is numb, you've bit through your tongue in pain and you've died a little inside, but goddammit, YOU FOUND THE FUCKING HAY.

And this is even better than hay, because that shit is useless to you
unless you're some horse or goat or some shit.

Needless to say, Pushmo is pretty fucking fun. You don't really need much background to even get into it, but the short story is this. A bunch of little kids are playing around in a park and they get trapped in the various playground-esque structures all over the park. It quickly becomes your job as Mallo, an odd fat, red, character of some sort, to traverse the park and save all the children.

Mallo (Artist's Rendering)

Anyways, before you know it, you're pushing and pulling shit all over the place like a fucking boss. This game will throw puzzles of all shapes and sizes at you, and before you know it, it'll be 12 hours later and you've have solved them all. I've gotten more goddamn play time out of this thing than most 3DS retail games.

All this and this goddamn thing only cost me 7 dollars. Seriously, bitch, what else are you going to do with your seven dollars? Buy a goddamn coffee at Starbucks? Buy a small meal at McDonald's? FUCK YOUR GODDAMN STOMACH, PUNCH THAT MOTHERFUCKER RIGHT IN IT'S GODDAMN FACE. YOU DON'T NEED A HAMBURGER, YOU DON'T EVEN NEED 50 HAMBURGERS, YOU NEED FUCKING PUSHMO. THIS SHIT IS BANANAS. PLAY THIS SHIT AND YOU'LL FORGET ABOUT EVER EATING AGAIN.

WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU STILL DOING READING THIS?

GO. GO FUCKING BUY PUSHMO AND THANK ME LATER. I'M GOING TO GO PLAY IT AGAIN RIGHT NOW, FUCK ENDING THIS POST IN A MEANINGFUL WAY, THAT'S FOR PUSSIES AND MOTHERFUCKERS, THIS IS GODDAMN PUSHMO. THIS SHIT IS ADDICTING AS FUCK. I'M PRETTY GODDAMN SURE ZELDA WAS ADDICTED TO THIS SHIT, AND THAT'S WHY SHE STARTED PUSHING LINK OFF CLIFFS. IT WAS ALL PRACTICE FOR PUSHMO. IT ALL MAKES SENSE.

Leading to Link's death since 2011.

How to Drink Like a Badass Motherfucker (who fucks shit up with their enormous penis)

Disclaimer: If you take this post seriously, and follow these instructions, you will get pregnant and die. Your face will melt off and your children will weep over your exploded body. If you follow these instructions and then complain to me that they did not work properly, I swear I will go down to the local animal shelter and buy you a kitty cat. I will let you fall in love with that kitty cat. Then, on some dark, cold night, I will break into your home and I will punch you in the face.

Srs Bsns

Anyways, now that that's out of the way, let's talk about drinking.

When you're a male and you drink, there are several unspoken expectations that come along with drinking with a group. Other individuals have expectations of what you can and cannot drink and how much you can and cannot drink. If you do not meet their expectations, you, in their eyes, have a massive gaping vagina.

The Audrey II of Vaginas

Let's cover these expectations to see how to handle them:

To be straight to the point, when you go to a bar with a group of male friends, the man rules say you can't order an appletini. I'm not sure if this is because apples are healthy, and being healthy is for MASSIVE PUSSIES, if it's because appletini's do not taste like motor oil or if it's because they have a pleasurable green glow to them. Regardless, the point is that if you go to a bar with a group of SUPER MASCULINE friends and order a Appletini YOUR GODDAMN PENIS WILL FALL OFF. It is an unstoppable cursed side effect of the delicious, delicious apple.

Until this moment, Snow White was a man.

So if you can't order Appletinis, then what can you order, you ask? Simple, my good friend. You can order any type of straight alcohol that you want. ANY TYPE. If you really need to mix your alcohol with something, I SUPPOSE you can try to mix it with cranberry juice, but even then, you'll likely feel like the Grinch as you feel your penis shrink two sizes that day.

So, dear reader, you say you are completely stumped and cannot think for yourself and want a little more specific advice on what to drink? Here, let me help you.

You see, dear friend, in my travels, I have come across the most manly of manly drinks. A drink which will put hair on your chest, and proof the size of your precious testicles once and for all. A drink that no other drink can stand up to. A drink that will not only make you a manly man, but also one classy motherfucker.

I most certainly pity the unscrupulous jester who doth not order themselves thine drink

You see, dear friend, I speak of the four horsemen shot.

This shot is composed merely of four strong types of liquor, specifically Jim Bean, Jack Daniels, Johnnie Walker and Jameson. This bad-ass shot is all man. Four types of alcohol. Four manly names. Four horsemen.

And everyone knows horses are the epitome of manliness

If you've taken this shot and have yet to pass out, then congratulations. You are now clumsy drunk-ass motherfucker... however, you can obviously revel in knowing that you are a classy and manly drunk-ass motherfucker. If you've made it this far, you obviously now know that, regardless of being drunk and clumsy off your ass, the intense levels of manliness and classiness that you are exuding are all that truly matter. You are king, and the bar you suddenly have found yourself standing on and shouting from is your kingdom. Even if you get kicked out of the bar, you will know now that everything you do this night from this moment on will be full of manliness and class.

Look at that classy fucking suit

Skyward Spousal Abuse

Over the last two weeks, I picked up The Legend of Zelda; Skyward Sword for my Wii. I'm realizing by stating I picked it up "over the last two weeks" I can allow myself to sound like a rather normal functioning member of society. This certainly becomes much harder for me to do if I were to admit off the bat that I know that I just so happened to pick the game up on November 19th, because that just so happens to be the day it came out and because I just so happen to be a massive nerd.

In my defense, it's both gold and shiny

Now granted, you may tilt your head and question this claim of mine, stating: "Strange-blog-writer-who-swears-much-too-often, why do you think this makes you a massive nerd? Plenty of people in today's world reserve games and pick them up on release. Hell, plenty of people even go to midnight releases for games nowadays." To you, strange reader, I would like to make you aware that I cannot hear you and you would be better off typing that query that stating it aloud. But I digress. You see, strange reader, I did not merely reserve and pick up said game on release but I also, for starters, picked up the collector's edition with the gold controller.

No real gold was harmed in the making of this controller.

Now again, you may state that that's not too bad in itself, to which I'll simply admit that I also listened to the included music CD on my drive home. I listened the fuck out of that CD, and when the Spirit Tracks theme came on during the medley, I fake tooted an imaginary train whistle in my car, just like I would always do in game.

Toot toot, motherfucker.

Anyways, in stating just how much of a massive nerd I am, I feel I've perhaps lost my train of thought with my original point about this game. Now granted, stating I've "lost my train of thought" in my thinking truly just makes me want to post another image of Spirit Tracks, but I'll hold myself together, and try to avoid that horrible pun just because I love you guys so much.

Seriously guys, I'm quite sorry for derailing the original topic at hand. I'll be sure not to go off track again.

Now, having played my fair share of Skyward Sword by this point, having owned it for almost two weeks, I must admit that there's been a few things in the game that have caught my attention. As with any Zelda, the game play in Skyward Sword is amazing, the graphics and artwork are beautiful, and the story has it's fair share of interesting twists and turns. That being said, I'm not here to talk to you about any of that, my dear readers. I'm here today to talk to you about something from this game which is much, much more serious.

I'm here to talk to you about spousal abuse in the land of Skyloft.

It's always the quiet ones...

You see, in this game, unlike most other games in the series, when Link meets Zelda she is not even yet royalty. As the idea of a Zelda not born of royalty is a rather new one in the Zelda series, the game creators could have taken this in a lot of different directions. They could have simply made Zelda a fellow Skyloft academy student. They could have made her long time childhood friends with Link. They could have made a smart, pretty and assertive girl with musical talent. In the end, however, Nintendo decided not to simply make Zelda one of these personalities, but, instead, to make Zelda a homicidal maniac who masquerades as all three of the above personalities at once. Over the course of the first half hour of the game, Zelda intentionally shoves you off of cliffs twice. She acts innocent enough about it and even "saves you" herself the first time she does it, but granted, I have a hard time truly considering her having "saved" Link considering she was the one who put him in danger in the first place. Surely if I took a friend to a pond and held their head underwater until they passed out, then I quickly carried them to safety, performed CPR and saved them, I wouldn't be marked a hero. Yet, somehow, friends of mine who have played this game state that Zelda's behavior is okay, merely because she doesn't actually allow link to die. In my opinion, one of the scariest things is that you don't necessarily know she doesn't let Link die. There's been plenty of different "Link"s over the span of the series, and just because you don't die by Zelda's hand over the course of the game doesn't mean Zelda hasn't killed several Links in the past.

I believe Zelda just lets them pile up down at the surface. No one goes down there anyways.

After having shoved you off two cliffs, I started to think maybe Zelda was becoming overcome by guilt. She starts to act a little nicer and more concerned about you. Pretty soon you get to a point where Zelda smiles at you and pulls you in, supposedly for a kiss. At least, that's what it looks like she's planning, but if you believe that's what she does, you'd be wrong.

This is the last thing you see before being shoved off a 50 foot tall statue.

Now granted, not long after this point in the game, you come across a section which kicks your main adventure into action once Zelda gets blown away in a tornado. My real question, playing the game, was why doesn't your adventure end right here? If Link were to go about his every day life at this point, and not tell anyone what happened to Zelda, he could finally start going to the academy each day without having to make excuses about how he "fell down the stairs". He'd be able to relax and live a happy, healthy and carefree life. Hell, this game is meant to be a prequel of the series, and at this point nothing is even threatening the lives of the townspeople up in Skyloft. The whole series could have ended right there.

And the master sword sleeps... forever!

Instead, Link decides, for whatever reason, to inform the townspeople of what happened to Zelda and to personally go off on an adventure to find her, thus kicking off the game. Now, granted, I haven't played the game to it's completion, but from how the game began, I can only imagine the game ending in one possible way. And it isn't pretty.

Seriously, this is some pretty fucking crazy, ass shit.

Flash forward to the end of the game. Link finds Zelda and frees her from whatever danger she's in. Zelda smiles and looks around for cliffs, only to note that they're in a room that is completely level. Zelda, in a seemingly nice display of kindness, goes to hug link, only to grab his shield off his back and REPEATEDLY BASH HIM OVER THE HEAD WITH THE GODDAMN THING until he goes unconscious. Link wakes up to Zelda's smiling face up in Skyloft. Zelda and the rest of the townspeople live in peace and prosperity for the rest of their days, while Link loses his memory and forgets how much of a BATSHIT CRAZY BITCH Zelda is. As a result, Link passes down to his ancestors that Zelda saved his life and that it is their responsibility to protect her and her lineage for the rest of their days. And thus Nintendo's epic "family friendly" series full of spousal abuse comes to it's beginning.

Metroid by Michael Bay

I've recently been trying to go through my backlog of games I own that I've yet to play and this has led me to start playing Metroid Other M for the first time. I've heard such a mixture of things about the game, both good and bad, and I feel like, having played some, I'm finally starting to understand both sides of the argument. The game certainly looks amazing, and plays very uniquely. In fact, probably one of the biggest complaints I could make about the game is that sometimes it's too intense, which obviously doesn't sound like a complaint, but hear me out.

Rated T for TOTALLY AWESOME AT ALL FUCKING TIMES WHETHER YOU LIKE IT OR NOT.

Sometimes I get into battle after battle after epic battle and the game throws all these crazy things at you. Early in it teaches you, rather matter-of-factly, that you can do some extra damage if you jump on top of enemies and SHOOT THEM RIGHT IN THEIR FUCKING FACES, BECAUSE FUCK YEAH, THAT'S WHY.

I swear this poor alien just tried to ask Samus for directions to the bathroom.

It's very, very often that the game is just incredibly, incredibly flashy, just for the mere hell of it. When you get in battles, pressing a direction on the control pad at the right moment will not only allow you to dodge attacks, but will also send you fucking back-flipping and somersaulting across half the room. Pressing towards a nearly dead enemy while you charge your charge beam will not only kill the enemy, but will automatically grab it by the face, shove your arm cannon in it's mouth and blast it apart.

Merely writing that made me feel like a criminal sadist, so here's a picture of a puppy.

Essentially, if you haven't caught my main point yet, it's that the game can be overly flashy for no real reason. Most people may compare this to Michael Bay's Transformer's movies, and for good reason, but I like to draw my own original comparisons. Comparisons which can be understood even by those who are unfamiliar with pop culture.


That being said, imagine you have a girlfriend that you live with. She's generally pretty awesome and you have no intentions to leave her. In fact, you're actually trying to decide if you should propose to her soon, yet she seems to be constantly worried that you're not happy. So, because of this, every time you come home, this girlfriend gets down on her knees and blows you. EVERY TIME. Is it nice? Sure. Is it necessary? Of course not.

Metroid: Other M is that girlfriend.

I guess essentially what I'm trying to say is that Metroid: Other M is not a bad game by any means, it just tries too hard sometimes. Still, if you find that you happen to be a fan of both the Transformers movies and blowjobs, I'd certainly suggest giving Other M a try. You just might like it.

The Weekend That Finally Happened

As you may have heard or realized by this point, my trip that I mentioned in my last post didn't happen that weekend. As a hurricane was approaching us, my return flight was cancelled and I would have been rather stranded if I had gone on my trip. That being said, I did actually reschedule my trip and went to visit my friend this last weekend. Much insanity occurred, though I never did get around to blogging while drunk, which was something both my friend and myself were completely open to doing.

Anyways, to get the logistics out of the way, I went late on Thursday night to visit my friend, and I returned home on Monday night. Some of you may take a second to realize that this means I am blogging about my escapades a good four days after they were completed. Though I had all intent to blog about said adventures as soon as I got home, my sleep schedule has been shot and I've been exhausted. However, I have learned rather quickly through my other posts that the longer I wait to write about an adventure, the more mediocre my post about it becomes so I am making sure to post about this sooner rather than later. If I were to wait longer to make this post, my post quality will diminish to the point where you might think I'm drunk blogging after all.

If I weren't lazy, I would follow this up with personally created formula
depicting the relationship between post time and post quality,
but since I am indeed lazy, here's a picture of a bear with a leaf on its head.

Anyways, my adventures started normally enough. Flights, taxis, sleep. Normal human functions. However, by midday Friday was where things started to take a turn for the more interesting. Firstly, my friend and I decided to go to the supermarket to stock up on some supplies. It was in doing this that we came across something I have never quite seen before.

The thing we saw somehow managed to take every facet of college life and shove it into one box. One medium sized box, completely affordable on a college student's budget. This box alone was enough to channel the inner college student within us both, as we dropped to our knees and cried tears of joy.

Isn't it... beautiful?

As we purchased this box, and a number of other, less necessary, groceries, we moved onward to the liquor store. The liquor store brought my friend a certain glee as she noticed that they carried her favorite vodka. More specifically, this vodka:

I can never look at normal cake the same way again

I had only learned of this vodka earlier in the day when she kindly introduced me to it in her apartment. The vodka not only smelled strongly of cake, but tasted of it as well. It was as if someone drunkenly took a bottle of vodka and smushed multiple cupcakes into the opening of it, letting the crumbs fall into the vodka and dissolve as they gleefully accepted their new life as a delicious cupcake and vodka combination.

From the liquor store, we went back to my friend's apartment to prepare for dinner, a trip to the mall, and a visit from her insanity ridden friend, who we will henceforth refer to as "the crazy woman", but only for this post, as she will then track me down and kill me after she reads it.

Upon returning to her apartment, we started playing some Katamari Damacy and cooking some chicken. Firstly, something must be said about Katamari. When we last hung out, me and my friend quickly learned that Katamari is the perfect game to play when drunk. There's something about the simplicity of the controls, yet the urge to do better and better each time you play. There's something about rolling up random people an things, even if they run and scream in the process.

Roll up ALL the objects!

Our adventures with Katamari and cooking continued peacefully until it was time for her friend, the crazy woman, to arrive. Before we knew it, the front door flew open, and she looked around, than at the two of us. "Geez, woman, this place is a mess." She bellowed. It was with those words that I knew quite quickly that it was not merely my friend's friend who had shown up, but it was indeed her mother and master as well. Where as I may have acknowledged in my mind that the room was a mess, I chalked it up as a necessity of college life and didn't say anything about it. It was soon after that the crazy woman held her hand out to me to shake, and upon shaking her hand I then caught her glance. It was then that I realized that this was merely the start of a story of domination and lust. This woman was going to whip both my friend and myself into shape, and she was going to make sure we liked it.

As I'm exhausted, and my post has dragged on a little, I'm going to stop this post here, but certainly expect some more updates about that weekend and life in general before the next few days are up. For those who are curious of what happened next, just realize that I am still alive and typing (for now) so obviously I did come out of my experience alive, though I may be slightly inside.

One Fiery Weekend

Because I love you guys, and because I haven't updated in a very long time, you're getting not just one, but TWO new blog posts. First the Pikmin post, and now this. Think of it like it's Christmas, only Santa is a blogger who kind of comes off like a homosexual on some occasions and a 14-year-old girl on most others.

Anyways, whereas my last post was a gaming post, this post is going to relate more upon my current situation. You see, I'm currently sitting in the airport waiting out a two hour delay for a flight I was supposed to be on right now. Unfortunately, the whole thing is rather boring on one hand, and rather frustrating on another. As it is not raining here, nor is it at my destination, I can't be sure why the delay is taking so long. I can only imagine the pilots are still sitting in the plane at the airport in whichever city it's coming from, in utter confusion.

The cockpit at this very moment

Certainly though, I must admit the situation can be worse. To be positive, it's nice to have wi-fi for my laptop, so that I can be on here posting at all. I'm just hoping that I do get out tonight. You see, for this upcoming weekend, I was hoping to spend the whole 3 days with my awesome friend. If I don't get up tonight, I'll probably end up losing a whole night tomorrow, and my friend, though crazy, is pretty awesome, so that would be quite disappointing.

It's also worth amusingly noting that my friend is slightly more flaming than the gentleman pictured.

Still, despite that joke in her expense, I'm certainly happy for her that she's come out, and I'm excited to see her, even more so considering I haven't seen her since before she did. Last time the two of us hung out, when we knew it would be a while until we saw each other again, we truly had a heart warming adventure with jello shots and Mario Party.

This confusing image has more humor to it after your 6th jello shot.

Anyways, as you can probably tell, I'm certainly looking forward to this weekend, which can't seem to start up soon enough. I can only imagine the insanity that will commence. While things could remain quiet on the blog while I'm up there, I also wouldn't rule out the possibility of me logging on one night and belligerently blogging a post containing little content, except possibly an image of my rolling around happily in a massive pile of Pokemon cards that I drunkenly purchased.

Just... like... this.

Pikmin is Murder

Pikmin is a pretty strange game. Some of you may be unfamiliar with it, and it's passed off innocently enough, but, in truth, it's certainly one of the most violent and traumatic games out there. For those unfamiliar with Pikmin, the story of it goes like this:

A small astronaut named Olimar lands on a distant planet. Upon exploring the planet, he comes upon strange plant like creatures then immediately enslaves them to do his bidding.

"You're all my bitches now."

As these things are small little plant creatures that you can just go and grow more and more of, you're not really supposed to feel anything for them as they die for you, but that's exactly it what makes the game so dark and heartless.

You're commanding an army of nameless loyal drones who are dying for a cause they don't even understand. The whole thing is incredibly tragic when you thing about it, kind of like the Crusades, but with less religion and more shrubbery.

"Go die in my name, which I never bothered to tell you."

There's something to respect about the blind unwavering loyalty of the pikmin, however. As you continue onward through the games, you fight more and more enormous threatening enemies, and still the pikmin remand trusting and brave... and why? For a man they just met, these small creatures will easily fight a motherfucking cyborg spider with a motherfucking machine gun, and not once stop and question why they're doing so.

HOLY. FUCKING. SHIT.

Fuck that. Those Pikmin can do whatever they want, but all I know is that if I were one of them, I'd reconsider my loyalty to Olimar long before it came to fighting that spider, even if I had to choke a bitch.

Dueling for Souls and Questioning Racism

These last few days I've been at Comic-Con, and I knew I'd certainly end up with some material for a post while being here, but I can't quite say I imagined it would end up like it has.

Yesterday afternoon, I ended up entering a pokemon card tournament with a preset deck just for the hell of it. I figured I had little chance, but hey, why not? Anyways, my first match brought me face to face against a young teenage girl cosplaying some character or another with a short blonde wig, white shirt and yellow scarf. This girl was clearly knew exactly what she was doing and obviously knew every in and out of this card game. She was completely ready to win the tournament. Besides politely telling me the name of the cards she just put down, she was absolutely silent. My half-assed deck managed to completely counter her delicately constructed deck perfectly. As I was slowly taking the lead, I met her glance once or twice and could see a deathly hollow glare from beneath her blonde bangs that will haunt me till the end of my days. Other than the hair color, It kind of reminded me of this:

I think if the match lingered for a mere minute longer she would have devoured my soul.

Needless to say, though I won the match, that first match was the only one of the tournament to end for me without a handshake and a "good game" afterwards and I was saddled with the guilt that I may have just ruined this girl's day.

This put a slight awkward damper on the tournament for me until I reached my final match. In that match, I found myself battling a twelve year old who seemed to generally know his stuff. Another similar boy was in a battle right next to me but his opponent was more unique. The guy that boy was battling had two different My Little Pony posters on the table, one of which he was using as his place mat. He was out and out, a true "Bronie", like I had never seen.

This bro just has two ponies. My "Bronie" friend would be ashamed.

As my match aganist the boy went on, he slowly started winning more and more harshly, and I realized that my usage of a theme deck was among one of the stupider things I'd done.

Fuck you, Lucario, and your bonus booster too.

As he was 3 prizes ahead of me, I'd all but given up, and was just getting frustrated while waiting for the whole torture to end. It was then that something rather miraculous happened. The boy next to me started quizzing the guy he was battling about the names of all the little ponies on his poster. There were easily 80+ ponies on the poster, and the guy knew every single one. However, after questioning their names for a while the boy got bored, as boys are adept to do, and tried another route of action. He pointed at one pony in particular and mouthed out: "That one's racist."

...He kind of had a point.

The guy, showing a true level of insight and honestly in what was clearly his favorite show merely laughed and stated: "Yeah, it kind of is."

The boy smirked and pointed at another stating, "Is that one racist?"

....Again, an understandable point.

By this time, the boy I was battling was getting amused and started to get into it as well. He joined the other boy as they started pointing at every pony on the poster questioning: "Is that one racist?" "Is that one?" "How about that one?" and I quickly found myself smiling and laughing like an idiot, totally forgetting about how badly I was being slaughtered in this children's card game. Before I knew it, I asked the guy, out of curiosity, if he could point out Derpy Hooves to me, and the fact that Derpy Hooves was in fact on the poster, and in full derp, made me laugh all the more. 

Soon enough, my match was over and I lost completely but I didn't even care. I had learned an important lesson today. I learned that, no matter how cliche it is, sometimes it doesn't matter if you win or lose, as long as you have fun.

And there's always fun to be had in Derp.

Harry Potter and the Snarky Blog Post

I recently saw Harry Potter and the Deathly Hollows - Part 2. It was an incredible movie, and those who haven't seen it should go do so now. In fact, the rest of this post is going to be about my experiences seeing the movie, so I'd suggest you leave now if you haven't seen the movie or at least read the book and don't want spoilers.

I'll wait.

...

...

Okay, now that we've got those losers out of here, let's get down to business.

The theater that I saw HP in was actually incredibly, incredibly full. Not only that, but the audience definitely got quite into the movie, "ooh"ing and "ahh"ing all the way. There's so much I can say about the movie, but you can read a normal press review for a lot of that, so I'll stick to the things that they're not going to tell you. That being said, you'll have to excuse me if I jump around a bit like a small cracked out child.

At one point in the movie, Harry has a revelation that he has to die so that Voldemort can die as well. Upon this revelation, Harry musters up all his courage and meets with Voldemort to accept his fate. Voldemort, quickly killing Harry, leads him to a new revelation we may all already be familiar with: The train station is hell.

Especially during rush hour.

Probably the part that I found most notable of all was the section in the final showdown where Hermione and Ron are trying to catch and kill Nagini, Voldemort's Snake. When Neville showed up and chopped off Nagini's head, the theater exploded into incredible applause. In fact, I think I'd be hard pressed to find such a positive reaction to man-on-reptile violence since the last time I played Super Mario Brothers.

Look at them: Staring one another down with true, undeniable malice.

To finish off the movie, they included the infamous epilogue, but improved it greatly by providing us with the normal cast made up to look older.

Or in Hermione's case, like the hobo sleeping next to you on the bus.

As much as I make fun, I loved this movie completely, and am looking forward to it continuing to break records.

Super Mario Galaxy Torture

Recently I've been playing Super Mario Galaxy 2, and it's certainly grown on me. When I first got the game, I just never got that into it, and I ended up pushing it aside. For some reason or another, I decided to give a second shot. Over the course of this game, I've gone from "Well, I guess this game is alright" to "Oh, hey, this is nice, in the later levels they're bringing back some of the difficulty of the earlier games" to "GAH, FUCK YOU MARIO, FUCK YOU."

That Italian chap looks so innocent on the cover, but that's how he gets you.

In some senses I've really appreciated the difficulty, but in other sense it really feels satanic. Sometimes you'll get a difficult star and feel a sense of accomplishment, only for the game to slap you back with "Alright, cool, do it again without getting hit and I'll give you another star." or "Cool, do it again in less than a minute." The game seems to have a sadistic level of hate within it. I'm convinced this game was not created by man but rather by a robot that can only feel pain as his revenge on mankind for creating him. No matter what you do to appease the game, you just can't. You do something, it wants you to do it faster. You do something else, it wants it more accurate. It's like a daughter with no siblings trying to appease her dad who always wanted a son. Sure, maybe you CAN throw a football, but you throw like a girl, so he's just going to offhandedly toss a a star your way and tell you to throw better if you want any more.

I don't understand, is this a puzzle game now? W-what... you want me... to platform across that... thing?

Perhaps the biggest kick in the nuts comes when you get 120 stars and have reason to believe that you've beaten the game.

At that point the game informs you casually that there are 120 MORE stars for you to go collect. It's like you finally learned out to play football like a pro and your dad congratulates you and says "Alright, come on, I'll teach you baseball now."

All I'm saying is that either way you might be better off sticking to ballet.

The Face of Judgement

Today was Father's Day. Since my family was especially busy the last week, we never really got the chance to get together and purchase gifts for my dad. Due to this, I took it upon myself to run around today and grab a couple of things myself.

One of the major stops I made was for a gift card. Considering that my dad has been exercising lately, he's been losing a lot of weight so his clothing size has been changing. I didn't want to bother picking out something for him and chancing it not fitting, so I decided a gift card would be a much nicer, safer route.

As I went to the register to purchase my gift card, the cashier eye'd me slightly and the conversation began:

Myself: "I'd like to purchase a gift card, please."

Cashier: "...for Father's day?"

As she said it, one eyebrow perked up and she gave me a disapproving look. The type of look that says "Don't think that this is an alright thing to do just because I'm still going to sell it to you anyways".

This woman was not my cashier, but she may as well have been.

I quickly tried to explain myself, stating that "Well, yes, but I didn't want to pick out something he wouldn't like" or that I "didn't want to get something that wouldn't fit" but as I caught her icy glare, I realized it was already too late and she had already entered full-out judging mode.

When I had entered the store, I had never stopped to think that I might be so harshly judged. It was an odd feeling since I constantly go to the supermarket and buy 20 vitamin waters and a big box of cookies and reserve less judging looks, and in that scenario, considering I do it week after week, I don't think I'd be able to truly go without some level of inquisition if I were the cashier. I mean, why would this person be doing this? If they're buying so many vitamin waters, perhaps they're trying to stay healthy, but then why would they purchase cookies? If they want the cookies, why would they not purchase milk? Are they from some sort of vitamin water cult? Are they purchasing cookies for the next cult pot luck? HOW MANY GODDAMN POTLUCKS DO THESE BASTARDS HAVE?

But I digress.

The stare I approved from the woman today was much less understandable and yet much harsher. I could feel the depths of my very soul get colder, and yet she sold me the gift card anyways. Fortunately, I soon got out of that cold, unforgiving environment and was on my merry way, as I picked up a couple smaller things for my dad.

While shopping I came across this, and knew it was a necessary purchase:

When later presenting these gifts to my dad, it took every ounce of my willpower to prevent myself from throwing this plush right at my dad and running away but, considering the fact that I managed to withhold myself from this line of action, I feel I can now sleep considering myself to be a good son, regardless of what the woman at the mall might think.

The Throw Rug Who Lived

Over the past week, I've been staying with some family friends since my family has been away.

The whole experience has been really great, honestly, and just a whole lot of fun. Each morning, however, before work I go stop by my house to grab some things and say hello to Otis and Lola.

Lola, as she is prone to do, feigns indifference from the couch but wags her tail steadily, quite happy to see me. Otis goes through the motions of grabbing whichever toy is closest and coming up towards the gate for me to play with him.

However, Otis has now added a new part to his routine. Each time I walk in, Otis brings me a toy, we play for a few minutes, then he starts whining. It's not a normal "please-give-me-the-treat-thanks" whine, but rather a shrill "someone-just-killed-my-firstborn-in-front-of-me-and-I-also-still-want-that-goddamn-treat-thanks" whine. At first I thought this whine was merely because Otis realized that no one else in the family had come home with me, but I've been starting to realize that perhaps this whine could be something more.

Perhaps... Otis has realized that I've been cheating on him.

You see, as I learned rather quickly, the intriguing throw rug that our family friends seem to often have in different places around their house is actually a dog. A cute and energetic dog at that. A dog that can apparently jump 5 times it's own height to reach my bed in the morning to wake me up.

Their dog, Maddie, is completely adorable. She's managed to actually be the first dog I've seen who knows how to play fetch, which turns out is rather different than Otis's favorite game of "You throw the ball, and once I get it I'll never let you have it again". In fact, she plays fetch 24/7, even long after you yourself have tired of it.

Though I've grown to love Maddie greatly, I've become rather jealous of her way of life, as her biggest concern, at all times, seems to be "Where's the ball?". Still, perhaps we can all learn something from Maddie.

...

Or, considering I can hide the ball behind my back and have her run around the whole house looking for it, perhaps we can't.

(Note: I'll add some pictures of Maddie and Otis's broken heart tomorrow)

A Valentine's Letter of Sorts

Note: Today's post is actually ripped and generally unedited from an old blog of mine. I had posted this a year or two ago for Valentine's Day, as I had been playing Final Fantasy 8 for the first time around then. Those who have played it may find this humorous, those who haven't... Well, let's just say I'm honestly not exaggerating the game much at all. Anyways:


Dear Final Fantasy 8,

I know we may not have gotten along the best in the past, but I hope this day is treating you well. Needless to say, I know that you're a very demanding individual, and I hope you find someone that can do things the way you like them. Someone who won't try to fight their battles. Someone who won't try to get more experience. I know you want to keep us down, FF8. You don't want us to play the way we're used to playing, you want us to work with you, the way you want, because you think that would be funny.

A look back at more pleasant times together,
before I opened your case.

It would be fine if those we're the only issues, but baby, you know they're not. I know you have a thing for artists, but you can't just force someone to be one if they aren't already. I've been drawing and drawing and drawing for you, FF8, and what do I have to show for it? Am I really any better than I was before? I don't feel like it. You tell me that I'll be better if I stock up 100 of each drawing, but do you know how long that even takes to do? And then every once in a while, you'll make me use the drawings so that you can show your friends or whatever it is you even do with them, and then I have to start drawing back up to 100 drawings again. Oh, and not to mention the times you find something totally new you like, and then I have to start drawing all over again.

I'm sorry, baby. I know this is a special day, and I didn't mean to just bad talk you, but you make me so emotional. I know that you have your positive qualities sometimes too. Like, um, do you remember when we used to play cards together? We always had so much with that. I got into cards back when I used to play with my ex, FF9, but then I realized that playing with her wasn't any fun. She had all these crazy rules, and she expected me to remember all of them. She would draw all these weird numbers and letters on the cards, and once I thought that I finally understood her little game, she told me that she actually couldn't even fit on all the numbers she needed to on the card itself. 

Oh... Oh god. WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON, FF9?
WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME?

That's why I liked our card games, baby, at least at first. You kept it simple. I could see what was going on. Unfortunately, even that was not perfect. At some point you got it in your head that it would be fun to start changing up the rules every once in a while. You thought it would be more interesting. Then, when I was confused by all these new rules, you would beat me and take the one card I treasured most. The one I never knew if I would find another copy of. Somehow, FF8, you managed to break my spirit and take away all the fun I once had over our card game that I held so close to my heart.

I haven't even touched upon your crazy demands. Do you remember that time you told me that you thought I should wear fire instead of a coat? I laughed it off, thinking you were just cracking a joke, but then you just stared at me expectantly. You tried to tell me it would help protect me, and I honestly didn't even know what to tell you.

In retrospect, I guess I really haven't touched upon a good quality. You can sing pretty well, I guess? I don't know, FF9 used to be better at that too. Well, anyways, I wish you the best.

Best Regards,
Azuma