NEWS: ?

Why Saw Sucks

December 27th, 2006
Filed under Entertainment, Movies, Rants

A few years ago, a movie called Saw came out, and stupid viewers the world over watched it and cried in unison “Wow, that was so unexpected. I just came in my pants”. If you haven’t seen the movie, it’s about some guy killing people by putting them in situation where escape is hard (such as trapping a guy in a device that will crush his face and putting the key behind his eye or some shit), and enjoys watching what they do.

So, these two dudes wake up in a room with a corpse one day, and try to escape. After many trials and tribulations, it is revealed that the murderer was a patient of one of the two dudes, and we see him in the movie for two fucking seconds. Literally, he’s lying in a bed during a scene, he doesn’t even have a line. In the end, the dead body with the bashed head that has been in the room for the last two hours stands up and it is revealed that hey, that’s no dead body, it’s the murderer. This is the point where people go “wow, I did not see that coming”.

A good movie surprise must consist of two elements: Giving you hints all over the place, and the outcome still being totally unexpected. Sixth sense was a good surprise. Saw excels in the second element, but only because it fails miserably in the first. It’s very fucking easy to do something unexpected when you haven’t shown anything relating to it during the whole fucking movie. A dead guy gets up, and whoop-de-doo, nobody expects it. Of course you don’t expect it, you idiot, it wasn’t hinted at at all! Would you still think the movie rocked if the murderer came out a flowerpot?

I am thinking of making a movie as well, and since audiences are so easy, it will be an instant hit. It’ll feature gory murders and major plot holes, but in the end some dude will come in and be like “I did all the murders because I am going to die some day and I wanted you all to die before me! Also, I am responsible for all the plot holes, and I have been hiding in this flowerpot for the entire movie! How obvious was that?!”. I can see it now, it will be the highest grossing movie of all time. Noone will expect the ending, even though the killer will have been right there under their noses the entire time. Maybe I’ll add a flowerpot watermark on the lower right corner of the screen, too, thus making it the only movie ever that featured the killer in every single scene with no one being any the wiser. It’s brilliant, brilliant!

So yeah, there’s this dismembered dude in the middle of the room for some twelve hours, and neither of the characters notices he’s alive. No “Hey, this guy’s breathing”, no “Who farted? It was you, wasn’t it? Well, it wasn’t me, so it’s either you or the dead guy! Oh, wait…”, no nothing. And in the end the guy just gets up and is like “Hello gentlemen, I am really alive, my severed head was really just makeup, how good am I, huh”!

I am in awe of how stupid people can be while thinking they’re Sherlock Holmes. “Wow, how could I have missed that? He was there the entire time, and I am very very good at spotting these hints, therefore my hat’s off to the writers”. Nobody considers that the reason they might not have expected the dead guy to be the killer is that the guy is fucking dead!

Please, please, if you have seen this movie and think it is the best thing since anal sex with a young Thai boy, please comment here and tell me why you find it so brilliant, I am very much interested in hearing your opinions (so I can mock you afterwards for being an idiot).

I’m THAT guy

December 7th, 2006
Filed under Guides, Ideas, Rants, Strokes of Genius

Hi…

I’m that guy.

You don’t know me, but you’d definitely recognize me if you saw me.

I’m the guy who always pukes first at the party and forces his friends to look after him so he doesn’t die.

I’m the guy who starts shit with random guys at bars, just to see the reaction.

I’m checking out your girlfriend, even though I know you guys are still together.

I’m the guy who swoops IN on your girlfriend at the first sign of trouble between the two of you.

I’m the guy standing on the wall by the dance floor waiting for your friend to leave you long enough for me to start anonymously grind on you.

I’m the guy who thinks that if he buys those girls drinks, they will go home and sleep with him, and who will get mad if they don’t.

I’m the guy who keeps feeding that girl drinks until she DOES go home with him, even though I’m aware of the fact that if she was sober, I’d have no chance.

I’m the guy who gets drunk at the classy party/wedding/bar mitzvah/funeral

I’m the guy who cock-blocks his own wingman while the wingman is talking to a really cute girl.

I’m the guy who deserts his wingman when he sees a really cute girl.

I’m the guy who will go/has gone after your little sister.

I’m the guy wearing one Lacoste shirt underneath another Lacoste shirt so I have more than one collar to pop.

I’m the guy who is the first to make racist jokes in mixed company.

I’m the guy who tells his female friend he’s in love with her, then spends the rest of the night trying to pick up random tail.

I’m the guy who sends drunk e-mails late at night that are in NO way appropriate.

I’m the guy who screams ‘WHOOOOO!’ at really inappropriate times.

See, I knew you knew me.

If you have a ‘That Guy’ statement, put it in the comments.

Starlight Lounge (a.k.a. Save Yourself Three Dollars)

September 15th, 2006
Filed under Entertainment, Rants

It is not often I get to hang out with a particular friend of mine. She is a very cool person, with a great taste in music and with a lot of great ideas. Very rarely has she ever even hinted at letting me down. However, let’s call you Carlita… I hate you forever now.

For those of you who don’t live in the Waterloo region, you are mostly safe. However, for the rest of you, and I want to be 100% clear about this, The Starlight Lounge in Waterloo sucks so much, I’m surprised the town isn’t concave.

So I suppose you’ll be wanting the story. I was supposed to meet Carlita at 10:30 at the aforementioned Tower of Babylame. Knowing her to be in possession of functioning ovaries, I arranged myself so that I would arrive there at 11. I climbed the stairs, somewhat troubled by the pounding bass lines descending from the lounge above. I walked through the doors, and this is what I saw.

The Decor

The place was clearly decorated by an opium addict who lives and dies by the maxim “Everything cheap and 20 years old is automatically cool”. There were cheap pop-art posters advertising shows that have either already happened or are fictional by bands with names like “The Runnerups” and “Maggie’s Ovarian Cyst” and “I Left My Wallet At Home Can You Please Lend Me Some Money So I Can Buy A Razor And Kill Myself?”. The place was kept in almost complete darkness, which I can only assume was done to disguise what the rest of the place looked like. An orange disco ball and some multicolored pot lights provided only enough illumination for a person to recognize their cocaine balloon from their heroin baggie. Short red leather couches and sofas bordered the room, centred in a completely vacant dance floor. Small wonder when you consider…

The Music

I try to be open-minded about music, because it is a reflection of the creator’s world view and like food or visual art, it is in the eye of the beholder. That being said, house music licks my ball. The DJ spinning the records was almost comical if the whole scene hadn’t been so sad. Picture Marge Simpson, then turn her head upside down. This guy had a beard that would make the wisest kung-fu master in the most stereotypical Chinese movie jealous. He made the guys from ZZ Top look prepubescent. What was the most incredible is that he was really into the ‘music’, bobbing his head and making odd hand gestures. I’m not sure how anyone can listen to house music, since all of the songs are virutally identical. And yes, I realize that this is a claim commonly made about hip-hop, but really people… any idiot can listen to three hip-hop tracks and discern them. House music is completely beat-driven, and the composers have only figured out how to use one of the pre-set beats on their Casio™ synthesizers. I saw a screen running something, which is when I started watching

The Movie

I must admit, this was the first time I’ve ever seen a bar show a film in the background. I was almost impressed, until I actually saw what was playing. This guy gets hit with a pie, then he trashes the roadside pie stand, and his friends break some stuff. Then some girl wearing leather pulls out a molotov cocktail and blows up someone’s van. The guys walk around the corner, when these two 12 year-old black kids with automatic weapons start shooting at them. So they duck into a nearby bakery, go to some lockers, grab their own automatic weapons and take to the streets. A lot of shooting ensues, seemingly between a gang of hippies and a tough-as-nails chick gang (with a station wagon converted into a tank).

(I just want to interject that I am not making up or exaggerating anything in this recounting.)

It’s time for one of the female gang members to undergo her initiation by murdering the last member of the male gang. She has him cornered at the bottom of a stairwell, but can’t bring herself to pull the trigger. Luckily a chick with a metal eyepatch and a belly-topper is there to finish the job. Back at their hideout, the women’s gang celebrates their triumphant rise above male tyranny by… BAKING A CAKE. At this point I had to leave.

The only way the Starlight could have been any worse is if I had to pay money to get in. Oh wait, there is a $3 cover. Never mind, zero redeeming features. The phrase ‘powerfully lame’ kept flitting through my mind. To paraphrase a friend of mine, I imagine that the Starlight is what hell must be like, only with louder music. Some day lingustic scientists will invent a word capable of encapsulating how terrible that bar is. Until then, I advise you hide under your bed, read your dictionary, and don’t trust anyone with a metal eyepatch.

What a perverse world…

July 24th, 2006
Filed under Battle of the Sexes, Rants

A wise man once said “Treat her rough, get some muff”. When I heard this I immediately dismissed it as codswallop, but last night my skepticism was shattered by the events that transpired.

There is a bar near where I live called ‘Phil’s’. It is dark, dingy, and smells of feet and hockey equipment at the end of a day-long tournament. However, it has $1.75 drinks, so we go. I went with my buddy Nathan; my roommate and wingman extrodinaire Kevin; Virginia, my former lab partner, and her friends. It was partway into the night when I found myself beset by Kevin and Nathan shouting at me to go hit on this random girl in a pink shirt. I protested that I am not ‘that guy’, which they did their best to refute using the logical tools available to them (‘Yes you are!’).

While I was being verbally pummeled for my lack of will to bother random girls in bars, a group of ladies came up to talk to Nathan, having apparently met him some time before. To get my two harping buddies to leave me alone, I decided to undecoriously perform a suicide mission on one of the girls there so they would leave me alone. To compound the inevitable failure, I decided to be the biggest jerk I could possibly imitate. I made nothing but disparaging comments about her every statement, ridiculed her in front of her friends… I was theatrically rude.

Nothing in my many years of bar-going could prepare me for what happened next.

Far from being offended or discouraged from further conversation, this girl (who we shall call Cyndi) was intrigued by my ruthless and irreverent banter. The more I berated and disparaged her, the more interested she seemed. I’m pretty sure that if I had punched her she would have gone down on me.

I ask you people, what kind of sense does it make that being nice, courteous, complimentary and generally decent is a turn off? If I met a girl who upon meeting me immediately began talking shit, it would be SO OVER. Why should I have to pretend to be an asshole just to get the time of day and a dance?

The story doesn’t end as well as you might think: we spent a good portion of the evening grinding each other into oblivion on the dance floor, then her roomies (who were giving me some serious stink-eye) had to go home, so she left. I did get her number though… worship me for I am your god.

Giants

May 30th, 2006
Filed under Entertainment, Games, Rants

A famous poet once said “How many roads must a man walk down before you call him a man?”. Or was it Bob Dylan? Whoever it was, that is fucking stupid, because you already called him a man, retard. The truth is, that before someone can be called a man, he must do these things (women are excluded, they can do whatever they want, or not):

  1. Eat chocolate.
  2. Have sex.
  3. Say nothing while someone verbally abuses them for two months and then beat him into submission without sustaining a single scratch.
  4. Watch Family Guy, even reruns.
  5. Play Giants: Citizen Kabuto.

I have done all those things, and let me tell you, they are immensely enjoyable. The enjoyment grows the further you go down the list, but I probably find Family Guy better than sex because the sex was really bad. I was actually thinking of watching Family Guy during sex. Oh well, at least I got paid.

Best. Bluescreen. Ever.

This brings me to my main point: Playing Giants: Citizen Kabuto is the greatest thing anyone can hope to do in their entire lives. This game kicks ass. If there was a contest between pirates, ninjas, robots and Giants: Citizen Kabuto, plenty of people would watch it, because they are all immature morons. Ninjas don’t exist, you fucking retards, and pirates are just Somalis trying to feed their families, they are not awesome. Also, robots. Have you seen a Roomba? That’s as advanced robots get. What the fuck can a mechanical cockroach do? Giants: Citizen Kabuto, though, kicks ass. It would win hands down.

A bit about the game: You start off as an alien australian astronaut (say that ten times fast) or three and you get weapons and shit and try to destroy stuff while running around destroying stuff, building bases and generally being amazing. Then you become a woman who has no guns (except a sword) but many spells, and then you become the most amazing thing ever conceived by human imagination: Kabuto.

Awe. And shock.

Kabuto is awesome (I will buy a thesaurus later). He fulfills the three requirements for awesomeness:

  • He is taller than a tall building.
  • He can roar.
  • He can smash shit and eat people in cold blood.

That, together with his offspring, that look like lizards, makes him the best thing ever. If Kabuto and King Kong fought, Kabuto would have anal sex with King Kong while watching Family Guy. That’s how awesome Kabuto is. When he eats enough sheep (or are they cows? something like that), Kabuto gets mad and shits an egg, which then produces an offspring which does Kabuto’s evil bidding.

That is one doable sun.

Overall, the game is beautifully designed and has great style. The writing is hilarious, almost as funny as Porocrom, but without all the repetitive crap. It cannot be classified in a single genre because it ranges from an FPS to an RTS to an STD. The stunning visuals, coupled with the witty script and imaginative quests are guaranteed to fuck your shit up with their awesomeness. Seriously, just look at this picture. Wouldn’t you do that sun? If I was a planet, I’d do that sun. The only downside is that the game was made in like, 1990 or something gay like that, when there weren’t even computers and the only way to play a game was to have Mexican immigrants do the math by hand and then draw the picture on the wall. The framerate suffered as a result, but it was mostly playable. The colours and all are quite great, but the lack of antialiasing might put you off a bit, but then you’re just a stupid fanboy who only cares about graphics and not about gameplay, in which case you should just go masturbate to your Lara Croft poster and leave me alone.

Hawt.

In detailing the awesomeness of the game, I have purposefully left out its best characteristic. The Reapers. You only actually play as one reaper, Delphi. Now, she is hot. P-H-A-T, hot. Well, in reality she looks kind of a dog to me, but she’s supposed to be really hot in-game since everyone falls in love with her and she is a princess and shit, plus you can like delete a file and have her play topless, and she has nice boobs, so who cares, I say she’s hot. She’s different from Kabuto and the Meccs in that she has spells and some sort of warp speed and a jet ski. That jet ski rocks, you can go anywhere with it, but the Meccs have a helicopter which is even more awesome and can drop bombs and shit and kick the shit out of other players. You can also jump out of the helicopter while it is really high and land safely by using your jetpack as a lander.

This game is amazing. Sadly, it was a rather huge commercial failure due to its numerous bugs (although there are patches to fix those nowadays) and if you want it you can get it for like $2 at bargain bins. Seriously, if you find it at one buy it, what’s $2 anyway, you can’t even get a decent blowjob for that.

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