Porocrom’s Crappaper

I went to see a movie yesterday to this new multiplex movie theatre thing which boasted a screen the size of the equator, a sound system that plays even sounds you can’t hear and seats that give you orgasms. By the way, if you watch Ong Bak, there’s some chalk writing on a wall somewhere that says “Hi, Speilberg. Let do it together.” I wonder if they are going to “do it together”… But yes, the theatre.

I don’t understand the point of larger and larger screens. They have gotten so large that I always have to turn my head from side to side to catch the entire frame. Whenever conversation scenes come on I get spinal injuries, I have watched tennis games with less pain than that. I can only blame the stupid people that go to whatever theatre has the largest screen. Here’s a tip, Einstein: If you want a big screen, stick your nose up to your TV and watch, it’s much better that way.

Also, what is up with the sound systems? People seem to have mistaken “better quality” for “higher volume”. Hey, owner guy, I would prefer gunshots not to cause my ear drums to bleed. On romantic scenes it feels like I’m in a club and on action scenes it feels like I’m strapped to the bottom of the space shuttle during takeoff. Digital sound is great as long as it doesn’t cause deafness, and soon my insurance company will stop covering cinema-related injuries so a movie will cost about $1300.

Needless to say, the seats didn’t give me an orgasm (or if they did it was when I was unconscious), my pants were clean. Seriously though, how can each row of seats be a foot higher than the next one and I still get some guy’s head right where Kate Beckinsale’s genitalia is supposed to be? Damn you, tall guy. Maybe it would help if they didn’t make the fucking screen larger than a football field and then lower it right in front of the first row.

And don’t get me started about the popcorn and soda. Since when do they cost more than the actual fucking ticket? A bucket of popcorn costs like $6, and last time I checked it took two cobs of corn and some salt to make it. We grow that shit by the ton, what the fuck caused a worldwide shortage of corn these days? And since when did a medium Coke cost $3? Where am I, Africa?

The thing that pisses me off the most is that almost every movie is a piece of shit. I remember watching Ecks vs. Sever a few years ago, it was the most expensive nap I ever took. I slept through 90% of the movie and I still know the plot. It was like “doze off, explosion, wake up, Antonio Banderas. Doze off, explosion, wake up, Antonio Banderas”. What an original concept, and Lucy Liu wasn’t even naked in any scene (or maybe I missed it, but I doubt it, I would have woken up if anyone was moaning). At least there’s not much else to do in the theatre so my ADD isn’t a problem, but it takes me 3 days to watch a DVD when I rent one. Late fees are a bitch.

In summation, they should give you a complimentary blowjob with each movie, and with all the darkness in the cinema I wouldn’t even take that, you never know who’s doing the sucking. Also, I just finished watching Saw II, and it’s not as horrible as the first one, but a bit more stupid. Imagine, you’re in a house full of traps and you just rush to grab everything you see. “Oops, I died.” That’s Saw II.

P.S. Best movie ever: The Shawshank Redemption (Disclaimer: I haven’t watched any one of the Godfathers)

Ladies and gentlemen, it is not often I am able to astound the scientific community and bring never-before-seen material to light, but I have conclusive PROOF that aliens live and work among us… my research design prof.

This specimen, which I have called Biological Replicon KR-Alpha (BRKR) appears at first glance to be a normal human person. Well, maybe ‘normal’ is stretching it a bit. However, upon closer and repeated inspection, it is clear to even the most skeptical of people that this is not a human as we know them.

Physical appearance, while very peculiar, is not the basis of this pronouncement. Despite the bizarre structure of the human costume that BRKR wears, the most damning evidence is in the specimen’s unorthodox behaviour. I make a few observations about its species:

The people of BRKR’s planet seem to communicate through the backs of their heads. This becomes increasingly evident as one compares the amount of time BRKR spends staring at the overhead with its back to the class, while continuing to talk. This is possibly due to the extreme aversion BRKR’s people have to seeing empty chairs. When faced with this situation, BRKR becomes highly agitated and will lose track of its thought patterns.

BRKR’s people display displeasure by moistening their upper lip repeatedly. To the untrained eye, this action would appear much like an eerie attempt at seducing an entire lecture hall. However, being the scientist I am, I conclude that this is a means of expelling waste chemicals. Another waste removal site is what we humans would call the ‘belly button’. As a consequence of this, BRKR is careful never to wear clothes that conceal this aperture, opting instead for belly-toppers without undershirts, or wearing a jacket as a shirt.

We can tell that despite their advanced ways, BRKR’s people are technologically behind, since BRKR’s translation module only works one way. As a consequence, BRKR is able to speak fluent English. However, when confronted with even a simple question, BRKR becomes flummoxed and resorts to staring intently at any nearby bright object (i.e. computer screen, projection screen) as a calming technique as the translators in the mothership work frantically to produce an answer (with varying success).

However, the most compelling evidence I can provide for my theory is the following: the presence of antennae on the head. In an attempt to disguise these telltale appendages, BRKR wears a disheveled hairdo, hoping to prevent detection while simultaneously providing ample space for transmission to continue unimpeded. Upon closer reflection, however, one will remember that NO woman lets her hair go THAT crazy unless she is trying to hide something.

To the untrained eye, all these occurrences may seem to be just the profile of a highly-eccentric person. When we look at the facts all gathered together however, we see a much more startling reality: aliens are attempting to destroy the human population by boring us to death. Beware – no one is safe.

It is time for another life-saving update, dear readers. This time, the dedicated people at Porocrom realized that many people like to travel. It happened in the bathroom, and we also immediately realized that when you travel, there are some phrases you just can’t do without. Much to your satisfaction, we present you a list of the absolute must know of travel phrases. You cannot travel to another country and not know these phrases, period. They are listed in English, German, Mandarin Chinese, Hebrew and Greek (and no, we didn’t use Babelfish). So, here you go (by the way, you’re probably not going to be able to pronounce the Greek phrases, but just remember each letter sounds the way it looks, with a few exceptions. Yes, it’s quite useless):

En: I’m going to be late, but only because a piano fell on me.
Ge: Ich werde ein bisschen spaeter ankommen, aber nur weil ein Klavier an mir gefallen ist.
Ch: Wo hui qi dao, ke si ing way yao ge gong qing diao zai wo sen seng.
He: Ani holech le’acher, aval rak biglal shenafal alay psanter.
Gr: Tha argiso, alla mono epeidi epese pano mou ena piano.

En: Excuse me, could you rub chamomile on my pet bear?
Ge: Entschuldigung, koennen Sie mein Hausbaer mit Kroetertee einrauben?
Ch: Ching wen, ni ke bu ke yi bong wo de shiong muo yao shui?
He: Slach li, tuchal leshafshef kamomil al dov ha’machmad sheli?
Gr: Signomi, mporeite na tripsete xamomili stin arkouda mou?

En: I made a mistake, this train should not have leaves.
Ge: Ich habe ein Fehler gemacht, diese Zug sollte keine Blaetter haben.
Ch: Wo chuo le, ze huo qe bu ing gai yao yie zi.
He: Asiti taut, larakevet hazot lo tzrichim lihiot alim.
Gr: Ekana ena lathos, afto to treno de tha eprepe na exei fila.

En: Look how beautiful the rainbow is! Now I’m hungry.
Ge: Guck mal wie schoen das Regenbogen ist! Jetzt bin ich hungrig.
Ch: Wah! Hong hao piao liang. Wo du e.
He: Tir’e kama yafa ha’keshet be’anan! Achshav ani re’eva.
Gr: Koita poso omorfo einai to ouranio tokso! Tora peinasa.

En: My mother would like me to give you this syphilis.
Ge: Mein mutter moechte, dass ich Sie diese syphillis gebe.
Ch: Wo ma yao wo gei ni ze mei du.
He: Ima sheli rotza she’ani eten lecha et ha agevet hazu.
Gr: I mitera mou tha ithele na sas doso afti ti sifili.

En: Your sister’s odor is most powerful and offensive, please wash her.
Ge: Ihre Schwester’s geruech ist sehr Stark und Beleidingend, bitte waschen sie.
Ch: Ni jie tzo de yao si, ching ni shi ta.
He: Hare’ach shel achotcha chazak me’od, tirchatz ota bevakasha.
Gr: I mirodia tis aderfis sas einai poli dinati kai enoxlitiki. Parakalo plinte tin.

En: Are these your oxen? They have soiled my mittens.
Ge: Sind diese ihre Ochsen? Die haben meine Handschuhen verschmutzt.
Ch: Ze si ni de niao ma? Ta men la tiao shr zai woh so tao seng.
He: Haim ele ha’shvarim shelcha? Hem lichlechu li et hakfafot.
Gr: Einai dika sas afta ta vodia? Lerosan ta gantia mou.

En: I am sorry, I seem to have dropped my catheter in your champagne.
Ge: Entschuldigung, ich denke ich habe aus versehen mein Katheter in ihre Sekt fallen lassen.
Ch: (Left as an exercise for the reader).
He: Ani mitztaer, nir’e she’hepalti et hakateter sheli ba’shampanya shelcha.
Gr: Signomi, nomizo oti eriksa ton kathetira mou sti sampania sas.

Once upon a time there were two princes. One prince, Martin the Foppish, was plagued by accusations of indiscretions with the peasant women of the countryside. The other prince, Harper the Dastardly, maintained that he would destroy all corruption by throwing huge bags of money at it until it went away.

It came to pass that the people of the kingdom wanted a new ruler to govern them. They held a great tournament that would decide once and for all who would be the king. The first event was an archery contest. Sir Martin, momentarily distracted by the light shining off the head of Lord Layton, managed to repeatedly shoot himself in the foot. Sir Harper fired an arrow that killed several homeless people and single mothers. He quickly hid the evidence behind a bag of gold dubloons and was proclaimed winner of the archery contest.

The second event in the tournament was a joust. Sir Martin mounted his steed backwards and forgot his lance at home. Sir Harper, his golden toupee shining gloriously from atop his jet-black steed, promised to give money to anyone who couldn’t afford a horse so that they could ride around on a donkey cart. “But Sir Harper,” protested the people “Why not just lower the price of horses?” “Sir Martin is a LIAR!” replied sir Harper. “But…” began the people “No!” said Sir Harper. “It’s time for CHANGE! He’s a LIAR!” Sir Harper repeated this phrase until the people were hypnotized out of their foolish well-reasoned objections to easy answers. Sir Harper was proclaimed the winner.

The final event was the most exciting. The two combatants were sequestered in a ring filled with mud. It was declared that the contestant who could throw the most mud at the other man would be the winner. “Finally,” thought Sir Martin “Here is an event I can actually win!” Sir Harper made the first volley, splattering scandalous amounts of mud on Sir Martin’s standard. As Sir Martin was preparing his crushing reponse, a dark shadow appeared over the ring…

A passing Duceppe bird, over 40 furlongs in length and weighing 20 stone had flown overhead and released a dropping so big that it blotted out the sun. The castle archers fired arrows, but the bird was too far out of range to be hit. “Fie!” said Martin. “Once again, Duceppe has shit all over EVERYONE and gotten away with it!” For his failure to mud-sling adequately, Sir Martin was disqualified and relegated to the cruddy side of the kingdom.

“What will you do with your new power, oh great king?” the people asked.

“I will throw big bags of money at all problems that come our way. The more money people have, the more they will agree with me.”

“What if a problem comes along that can’t be solved with bags of money?” asked a wise man.

“If such a problem exists,” said King Harper “I don’t want to know about it… or I’ll just blame it on Sir Martin.”

And so Sir Harper won… and the people lost.

I recently stumbled upon a copy of MechWarrior 4: Real Version Number – 121894, and it took me back to the “good old days”, when I was playing MechWarrior 2. Ah, distinctly I remember, it was in the bleak December when I immersed myself in the incredible awesomeness that is MW2. It was 1997 or so and I had found a demo of it in a CD of a magazine. It only had three levels and three Mechs, but it was the best game ever. The graphics were superb, the gameplay magnificent and the sheer coolness of driving a 10-metre tall robot kicked ass.

I still remember the soft, seductive voice that ran the systems check whenever you began. “Reactor: Online. Sensors: Online. Weapons: Online. All systems nominal” she would say, and my heart would flutter before the reassuring bleep that meant that all was OK. Of course, come to think of it, there was no chance something would go wrong because that was hardcoded in the game, but it was awesome still. Then the game began and I would promptly kill the 3 enemies on each level (it was a demo, remember?). I would then proceed to shoot the legs off my teammates. They were so loyal, they wouldn’t even move while I wreaked havoc upon their Mechs (in retrospect, I suspect that was due to the fact that they had a good insurance policy).

Wanting to relive those glorious days, I, ahem, procured a copy of MechWarrior 2 and prompty installed it. I ran it, chose the biggest, meanest looking Mech in the game and entered the arena, but, what is this shit? The graphics are crap, the enemy vehicles look like shoeboxes with wheels and the robots look like chickens that rolled in the mud for too long. You can imagine my surprise, because that was certainly not the game I remembered. At least the voice was still great (reactors and all that).

This can only mean one thing. Games deteriorate with age. This game’s graphics are much worse than the first time I played, it, and it was somewhat boring. Why don’t the gaming companies make a game that won’t go bad after a while? I didn’t know that games had expiration dates, but apparently they do, and this game was way past its. I tried a few more games from the saintly days of yore and, sure enough, they had also gone bad! This is a great tragedy that has befallen me. I was planning to introduce my newborn son to the games I played as a kid, but what am I going to show him now? A moving shoebox? That’s gay. I tried to play MechWarrior 4 but it required the skill of a pianist and the stamina of a pornstar. If I wanted a fucking chore I would have taken out the garbage, not bought a game.

By the way, what the fuck is up with Prince of Persia? That damn game has a 60 minute timelimit and every time I got past the level in which I ran out of time the last time, it had a whole new one! Nice going Broderbund, don’t make new and challeging levels, just force the player to play over and over again. Also, what’s up with Pacman? A pizza-shaped dude eating dots? Where’s the fun in that? Ooo, look ma, I’m being chased by ghosts. I better eat that hugeass dot, I bet it’ll save me. How much LSD were the creators on? And don’t even get me started on Wonder Boy. He just ran around on clouds with his privates showing and threw hatchets. Brilliant idea. Let’s give him a skateboard while we’re at it. A caveman with a skateboard, deadly.

NewZealand Story, now that’s a kickass game. You were a small bird of indeterminate species and you went around on balloons and in water and shit shooting stuff to save something from someone. You would go in portals that were always in a loop so you would always end up where you started, but noone would notice, that’s how kickass it was. Golden Axe was also one kickass game. You could be a woman, a gay or a dwarf. The woman was the best of all, she couldn’t hit for shit but if you somehow managed to survive long enough to collect all the powerup vials she would cast a spell that caused a huge dragon to come and puke fire and shit lightning on everyone. There was noone left after that, even the final boss got pussywhipped. Plus, you could ride dragons, how cool is that.

The game I want to play now is Shadow of the Colossus, but unfortunately I don’t have a PlayCube 380 or whatever these new things are called, so I can’t. I have a lesbian friend who has all that stuff, but he won’t let me play because he’s gay, he just listens to Tori Amos all day. Shadow of the Colossus must be great, you play the role of a small dwarf who has to go kill the Colossi because they raped his sister or something. The Colossi are all tall like Michael Jordan (sometimes taller) and you have to climb on their legs and tickle their balls and stab them in the back. Sometimes you get a horse to ride on. That is the recipe to success, my friends.

Since it’s getting late and I have to study (computer networks exam in two days) I will give you this familiar epilogue where I just stop writing with a lame excuse. I’m having my period.