Sunday 8 February 2009

Hell Hath No Fury Like A Breadloaf Scorned, Part 2

Everything exploded.

I never got to eat my sandwich.

Saturday 7 February 2009

Hell Hath No Fury Like a Breadloaf Scorned, Part 1

Hey.

This morning I realized I had ran out of bread. I really, seriously needed a sandwich, and, as you probably know, bread is an important ingredient of this rare delicatessen. So, no surprise to anyone, I put on my jacket, grabbed a 5 pound bill and went down to the shop. I went in, got a trolley and proceeded quietly to the bread section. I got my bread (specifcally, one packet of Giant White Baps and one packet of Healty White Bread Slices), and then I noticed that right next to that section was the berries section. Doing a quick calculation in my mind, I realized that if I bought the bread now, I was very likely to receive a 2 pound coin as change, which cannot be used in washing machines. I needed to buy something more to avert the 2 pound dillema, so I went over to the berries section and got a pack of blueberries. This purchase would yeld a more acceptable change.

So, happily I went over to pay for it, and got in line. At this time, I was holding in my hands the bread and the berries. I noticed that this guy behind me was eying me and scanning me with his eyes all over the place, and I was like WTF. The woman behind him was doing the same.

"Why?" I asked myself. Then suddenly it occured to me. It was very likely that these people were like "Look at that guy buying bread and berries. He must really be into these two foods."

That is NOT true. I only eat berries occasionally and bread... well everyone eats fucking bread. I was being misjudged by these shopgoers. Something had to be done before they went home and told people about this.

Once again I was in a veritable crisis. I want to say that the horrible deeds that I did after this were fed by panic. I never would do something like this normally... but I was just really hungry. I guess hypoglicemia had something to do with it.

Well basically, I grabbed a table knife from the knife section (which was right there) and took the till woman by surprise, holding her at knife point.

"Nobody move!" I said, "I want you all to get on the floor, hand above your heads. Do not fucking move or this poor woman gets it!"

I was shaking. They could see that I was afraid, but I had to go on. I knew there were security cameras and I knew someone was probably calling the police right then. A million horrible images of death and pain flashed through my mind. Visions of many trials, family members crying, the absence of sandwiches and really dirty unprotected prison sex.

The situation was dire. I did NOT want to be raped by prison inmates. I had to do something. I was knee deep in this shit and I could not do anything wrong. I had to explain the situation to the other people in the shop. And so I began my speech...

"Listen... I didn't want to do any of this. I'm not a murderer. I just really love ploughman's sandwiches. And I don't want the world to think I'm obsessed with some kind of... abnormal feeding choice, like berries and bread. I don't eat berries and bread. I don't think I've ever had these foods together, at least not by themselves. You understand, right?"

They all nodded together... like sheep. They weren't being truthful. I knew that inside their minds, the concept of me eating bread and berries every single day still raged like a terrible seastorm. Suddenly, I heard it. The sound that I had feared. The sound of police sirens and those really seriously awesome skid sounds that the cars make when they brake really fast, like in the movies, man that's so awesome I wish I could do that with my car, but I'm scared I'll scratch it on the sidewalk side... thing, you know like one of those tall sidewalks. I mean WTF. I don't even have a car though, but it would be cool.

They got on the megaphones and started asking for me to come out with my hands up. NO fucking way I was going to do that. I was bent on either getting my sandwich and convincing these people of my innocence in the bread and berries scandal or dying in the attempt.

TO BE CONTINUED

Friday 6 February 2009

Bear attack.

In the news, a Minnesotta man was attack by a vicious bear today.




Monday 2 February 2009

WTF

Yo, everyone.

"This morning I was just engaging in unprotected coitus with a random woman that I picked up in a bar after snorting cocaine for 2 hours and... clubbing and listening to dance music (which I totally like). It was getting really hot and everything and we were really into it, but then SUDDENLY, she just stopped. I was like "Wtf!?".
She didn't respond. Suddenly I realized... she's dead. Probably overdosed on one of the many drugs we had the night before. This was not good. Not good at all. Scenes from Pulp Fiction rushed through my mind. I remembered that when a person is suffering from an overdose you have to stick a huge needle into their chest. I quickly went over to my syringe cabinet (I have one of those), and took the largest one I could find. I went back to her and stabbed her right in the heart. Nothing happened (later I learned that you actually have to inject adrenaline, it turns out that an empty syringe doesn't work).
At this point I was really panicking, cause she was the only one that knew the code from this soda contest we were in. They give you this code and you have to bring it to a shop or something and you get free PensaCola Orange Juice. I didn't know the code, and the only one that knew it was dead (or dying).
I remembered a documentary I saw earlier that said that scientists have proven that memories could possibly be extracted in the future from a human brain, before it starts to decay. I wasn't sure if she was technically dead yet, but I couldn't take any chances. I HAD to find a brain-reading device as soon as possible. I looked all over the house but couldn't find one. I was in a genuine PensaCola crisis. There was only one solution left:

Go into the future and find a brain-reading device. But where to find a time machine? Things were looking pretty grim... so I had to resort to prayer. I sat beside her, and began to ask the Lord to give me a time machine. It was the last he (or she?) could do. I assumed God Almighty knows how to put together this advanced piece of technology capable of bending time.

Nothing happened. This poor woman was dying there, taking my only hope for Pensacola Orange Juice with her. To this day, I stand by my belief that PensaCola & Co never expected this to happen when they started the contest. They never expected the one and only code they issued to die with a random bar hooker.

There was nothing I could do. It was over. The least I could do was call PensaCola & Co and inform them about the tragedy. I did just that.

On my way to the phone, suddenly I heard some kind of moaning noise. I turned around, and, to my horror, the woman was now a ZOMBIE. And the slow, cheesy ones from Dawn of The Dead, but the totally awesome fast ones from 28 Days Later. And she was totally pissed cause she forgot the code. After finishing screaming, I picked up the shotgun that I kept under my coffin cupboard, just for situations like these, and shot her right in the head. She kept going! There was only one solution left: my favorite wrestling move, the Cunt Punt. I had heard of this ancient martial arts technique from the great Maddox, and others, and now was the time to apply it. With the speed of the tiger, I came onto her and cuntpunted her right in the kisser. Yes. For some reason she now had a vulva for a head. Weird, I know, but hey, it's not weirder than zombies right? The move worked perfectly. The beast fell to the ground, finally resting in peace. I could sense that the girl that once inhabited that cursed body was thanking me from a better place.

Then I went to the market and bought apples."

How's that for my fiction homework assignment? I bet the teacher will just love it.

Monday 12 January 2009

Giving Up My Seat to a Disabled Person

So today I was coming back from my lectures, and entered the bus, in order to return to my little room and write something on this blog. I entered the bus peacefully and uneventfully, happy that for once nothing horrible is happening, no blood is spurting from all sides and no people are exploding around me. I pay for my ticket and proceed towards my promised seat.

Suddenly, I see it. As I move towards my seat, I see to my right three seats that look very nice, and above them, I see a sign. The sign reads: "Please give up your seat to a disabled person."

Instantly, I felt a deep hole form in my soul, as I realised the gravity of the situation. I looked around frantically, looking for somebody in a wheelchair, or with a cane. There was NO ONE. It was a veritable crisis situation. Those chairs required a disabled person as soon as possible, and, as the reader of the sign above those chairs, it was now MY job to find one. That beatiful, simple day was ruined.

There was nobody on the bus that I could use. I had to leave the bus, even though I just bought a ticket. I went to the driver and practically begged him to take the ticket back, but he refused. I became very very angry, and, unfortunately, I grabbed his head and smashed it forcefully into the ticket dispenser, turning it into a bloody, brainy mess. I looked at my hands, horrified, and in shock... but I had to go on. I had to. The disabled people chairs needed me. I felt sorry for the driver, and I decided to give him a proper burial. I buried him in the University campus, in a location I will not disclose. I then continued my invalid quest.

There was enough time. The bus wasn't going anywhere without a driver. I saw my first target moving slowly with crutches along a walkway on campus. He was a young, innocent looking young one, who had injured his legs (possibly in a skiing accident). I went over to him and asked him nicely to come with me to the bus and sit on the chair, but then suddenly something occured to me. The bus had 3 disabled people chairs, not one. Would one disabled person be enough or are 3 people required in such situations? I didn't know, but I couldn't take any chances. I told the guy to come with me, but he refused (he called me a nutcase). I got angry again and tried to force him to follow by dragging him a long, but somehow he fell over and hurt his knee. He kept screaming and cursing as I watched, but then suddenly he stopped and became motionless. He wasn't breathing.

There is only one thing that can kill this fast. A cerebral aneurysm bursting, increasing intracranial pressure and causing a cerebral herniation. The fall I caused must have affected a pre-existing aneurysm to burst. He died painlessly, I like to think.

But now I didn't have a disabled guy anymore. And I realised that soon the people from the bus company would a realize that one of their buses isn't moving (British bus companies pride themselves in the precision of their timetables). Also, people had gathered around me to see what happened to the disabled guy. I ran away as fast as possible, heading for the Disabilities Office and Facilities. That place was crawling with invalids from all walks of life. Whites, blacks, asians, dudes wearing those slouched british hats... everything. I went to get a coffee from Costa (it was right there) and then went in.

"Come with me, please," I said to a disabled person, grabbing his hand delicately but firmly. He didn't fight me. He couldn't, because he didn't have any arms. I screamed in horror as the fake hand I had grabbed fell out of my hand, and rolled on the floor.
"Why? Why do you wear fake arms?" I asked, but it was too late. He ran for it, his body flailing oddly due to the lack of arms. It was sort of funny, but I had to keep myself from giggling (not because I was running out of time, but because it's NEVER okay to laugh at disabled people).
At this point I was already desperate. There was no more time, the bus people were probably already closing in on that fateful bus.
"WHY? Why won't any of you come with me?" I screamed.
The disabled people started gathering around me, alarmingly. I saw their leader, a bigger, more powerful specimen, with more vibrant colours in his plumage. He laughed a deep, thunderous laugh, and proceeded to explain. His mouth moved strangely, possibly due to palsy, or partial paralysis of the muscles of the face.
"The true question," he said " is why do YOU try to replace the empty space on the chairs of bus with our people?"
"Because the Sign of Bus says so! There is no denying it!" I cried.
"Oh, young child... you do not understand. In your ignorance, you have failed to read between the lines and descipher the truth. You can sit in the disabled people chairs, if there are no disabled people around. If, and only if there are disabled people around are you to give up your seat to them."
I thought about it for a second and suddenly I understood. I seemed to have reached a new level of understanding.
"Ooooh..." I said.
"Yeah," the Disabled One said.
"But I just killed two people to get here," I told him.
He smiled for a second, as some distant sound caught his ear, but then his eyes met mine again.
"Well then you're screwed, lol!" He exclamed.
The distant sound became louder and louder and more defined, as I identified it as a police siren. My time had come... there was no escape.

There IS no escape. As I hide out here in this barricaded University mess hall, scared hostages all around me, I have decided to post this on my blog. The cops are going to break in and shoot me in the head shattering my existence any second now.

Goodbye, my friends. I hope you never forget me, and remember never to fall for the treachery of that double-faced, snake-blooded Please Give Up Your Seat To A Disabled Person sign.

Sunday 11 January 2009

Olla!

Hey, here's something that's been pissing me off. Just go to www.yahoo.com and look at the news. The news they try to pass off as essential, on a website that considers itself an important source of information, and the most important hub on the internet. Lots and lot and lots and lots of people visit this website daily, for it is the center of this modern network of information and communication called the Internet.

Look at this fucking news. Why do we care about Amy Winehouse? Why should we care about Patrick Swayze? People get cancer and die all the time, but they don't get covered on Yahoo! They don't publicize every single aspect of the day of some dying child in Nairobi or Sri Lanka or Venezuela or some isolated mountain village in Tibet, yet every day when I wake up and check the news I have to read about Britney's new hair or Tom Cruise's new whatever-ma-bob.

What the hell is wrong with these people? Look at the "Today's Top Searches" category. I like watching this section because it shows the flow of interests on a large scale in a huge group of people. Today's top searches are:


Kate Winslet
Cheryl Burke
Mary Lynn Rajskub
3D TV
Jason Momoa
Cherry Jones
Foreclosures
2009 Toyota Sienna
Acne Treatment
Birthday Balloons

This is what people care about. They are all searching for some chick called Kate Winslet who can barely sort of act, to see what she's done now. Oh wow! I wonder what Kate Winslet did today!!! I CAN'T WAIT TO FIND OUT. OH FUCK I CAN'T WAIT OMG I'M SO HAPPY I HAVE THE INTERNET TO MAKE ME STUPIDER AND MORE GULLIBLE EVERY DAY OAOGMFGFG!!!

Birthday Baloons. HAHAHA. Why are they searching for birthday balloons? JUST FREAKING BUY THE BALLOONS. They're just these rubber things that you blow in, this does not deserve to be in the most sought out things on the internet section. And why is it in the top of all a sudden? Is there a sudden wave of birthdays in this period? How is that possible? Logic dictates that birthdays should be spread out evenly across the year in a huge group of people. Doesn't this smell fishy to you? I think Yahoo! is trying to manipulate us into buying birthday balloons!

3D TV... there's no such thing.

Yahoo! has a special section called OMG! where they cover all the celebrity news, in the most annoying way possible. I tried to watch one video on there and I almost keeled over to puke. UGH. It's like "Britney's new Clothing Fiasco!" WTFF? (what the fucking fuck?) I looked at the picture and it was just Brtiney Spears wearing some clothes. They weren't that bad. But the guy was like "Wow... just look at those clothes... oh Birtney, Britney, what have you done now?" in this sarcastic voice, like it was the most important thing in the world. Just fucking walk down the street, some people can barely afford fuckin socks! UGHHH...

You know a civilization is in trouble when the group of people controlling most of their information is concerning itself with glamour while their sky is getting blacker and blacker and their people are stupider and stupider.

Today's important links:
www.atheist-experience.com
http://www.thezeitgeistmovement.com/

Friday 12 September 2008

Spore is a steaming pile of crap.

I've waited for this game for years now. It was supposed to be the game to end all games, the final boss of the gaming industry, with amazing technology like animations that adapt to your creature design and unique procedurally generated worlds that you cannot predict. It was supposed to change everything.

I mean, it's fucking Maxis, they have never done wrong, Sim City was amazing (every iteration of it) and The Sims, were a bunch of good, addictive games. When you think of Will Wright, you think of innovation, and awesomeness.

Well, if you've played Spore, you probably don't need to read this, but I really need to tell you how crappy this game is.

First of all, Spore was supposed to be MASSIVE. An incredible accomplishment, a game that simulates the creation of life, and it's evolution from the cellular stage to the stage of space exploration and almost godliness. Well, you can finish it in about 5 hours, and it feels like one long tutorial. For the first few stages, all you will do is repeatedly click on things to kill them and then eat them (or eat shrubbery if you are a herbivore). And you do this again and again... and again and again, all the time gaining new (and extremely boring) new body parts to stick on your creatures. It is extremely boring, and at this part I basically just turned off the game after getting just bored with it. There is nothing else to do, there is no exploration and nothing intersting to see. Most of the creatures that other people made are dick monsters, by the way. I'm really curious how Maxis missed the fact that obviously most people will start off by creating a dick in the creature editor. It's just human nature. I did... my creature was a three shafted shitting dick nipple.

Every stage of the game is like a specific type of game (pacman style, 3rd person style, RTS, empire building, etc), only every stage is very badly detailed, and they dont' come across as very good instances of those styles at all. There are very few things that you can actually do, and for a game that was so hyped up for it's sandbox style gaming, it is VERY linear and very repetitive.

The later stages are absolutely unplayable, you get attacked every single moment and there is no possible way to enjoy the game (I heard they are releasing a patch to adress this). The final stage is just boring.

Even though the game has revolutionary animation and procedurally generated worlds and other tech goodies, the graphics are extremely bland. It feels like it came out 7 years ago. There are ways to create atmosphere and make a good impression even with low graphics quality, but Spore is just ugly on every level of detail. The trees, ground, sky, water are all ugly and bland, the colouring is dull and annoying and the foliage always gets in the way. Overall, it's very unappealing. Great going Maxis. I normally don't give a crap about graphics if the gameplay is good, but Spore is just... well it's so ugly it interferes with playability.

The music is good, at least (You can't go wrong with Brian Eno), but the sounds in the game are pretty annoying by themselves.

And guess what? There is almost zero replayability, since if you start from zero again, you go through all the stages and it plays just the same (you even get the tutorial bits again on every stage), only you can make a different creature. But there aren't that many parts to add to it, and it the end you will still be using the same parts as before (the good ones).

Also, it's almost impossible to make a really cool looking creature, in the end you will always have a googly eyed, either cute looking or goofy looking thing. And if you look at earlier versions of the game, you can see that they made it progressively cuter and cuter, probably to appeal to a younger group of people (children who don't give a crap about evolution or the origin of life or playing God).

Spore sucks.

If you want a good and intelligent sandbox game, go play Falling Sand, ahahaha.

AHAHAHAHAHAHA!

I'm sure some people would like it though, but I can see why (most people are morons, after all). It's definately going to bring in obscene amounts of cash for Maxis, after leaving us real gamers and Maxis fans all extremely dissapointed. But that's how it goes with games.

Sim City 5 will probably be even crappier.