Do I Get To Wear A Vest?
Imagine being one of the most profitable badasses in history, then waking up and deciding "I'd like to be the voice of Roseanne Barr's baby brother." Welcome to the unknowable world of Bruce Willis.
Cinemasochism: The Legend Of Chun Li
This time we look at the worst missed opportunity since they started hiring female cheerleader coaches. In honor of its video-game nature, the article is over at Bitmob.
Gears Of War 2 Secret File
One for fans of chainsaw-guns, blowing up monsters from the inside, and telling people who've just been disembowelled by a rocket to stop being such pussies. In other words anyone who matters.
The Lottery of Truth
Another article up at Cracked, wherein the Lottery is subjected to the intense critical analysis of anyone with average intelligence. Also includes Tom Cruise. Read!
eBook Insanity: Female Psychic Attack!
Female Psychic Attack is written by Ross Jeffries, can be read online here, and on a parallel world where I invented English people don't say his name instead of "creepy delusional loser." The very first word is "Bros" and it's the only time in history when talking about 80s sensations Matt and Luke Goss would be less embarrassing. Using the plural of "Bro" is bad; doing so in writing was thought impossible; but pretending to be a fratboy when you look like Popeye after a few years at Spinach-eaters Anonymous?
Ross Jeffries. On his own site. This is what he uses to represent himself in public where everyone can see.
Ross was raised on a world of Amazonian warrior-bitches who slept with M1 battle tanks, so he acts like every conversation is an arms deal with Basque separatists. He also wages unending war against grammar, apostrophes, and captilization, but since he's already declared the entire X chromosome his enemy that's only a minor skirmish. And expecting the author of a book about girls and their mind-blasting cooties to be good at communication is like demanding an Alien facehugger respect your personal space: by evolution, intent and innate sucks-to-be-near-them they just can't.
The intended audience is announced by the unexplained use of "AFC" in the first sentence. If you don't know what that is? Well done on being a real human being who can approach the opposite gender without a strategy guide. This text is intended for high-level students of online misogyny lectures, since the term is never defined. Googling it results in "American Football Conference", "Asian Football Confederation" (both of which would beat this guy up) and "Ambassadors For Christ in Canada" (who could also likely also beat him up, and probably get laid more often.)
The catalog of disaster that is the Fast Seduction 101 acronym page eventually reveals AFC as "Average Frustrated Chump." Yes, theirs is a world where the average state of males is sexually frustrated. Unsurprising since theirs is world where acronyms are involved in dating and they unsarcastically use "HB" for "Hot Babe."
Here's an example of the advice you'll get from a man who thinks women can telepathically blast your testicles:
Problems:
- That'd get Robin Williams beaten on the set of a romantic comedy even if it was in the script. And the only things that use "laff" are christmas-cracker joke-writing robots in their quest to destroy human joy.
- It's still better than the second suggested response
My imaginary dungeons & dragons wizard only has ten ranks in fucking insanity so I can't quite follow the train of imaginary thought here - but I can tell it's crashed through a psych ward and into a hall of mirrors. There are levels of desperate delusion here that'd make the Joker try to talk him down, and if I'm reading it right his advice is "If the girl doesn't want to stay late be extra-aggressive about wanting sex." That's not romantic advice, that's Daterape for Dummies.
Here he responds to a lack of phone calls by accusing the girl of being a dumb slut and/or fucking dumb sluts, depending on her ability to parse what happens to grammar after multiple concussions. In Jeffries' fantastic alterna-world this barrage of insults, ellipses and shouting has the woman desperately wondering how she can best please him. As opposed to two timezones away and still accelerating.
(Please be warned that the man who typed "HA HA HA HA!" like that is still at large and should not be approached by either gender.)
The final example in the eight-page opus is a masterpiece of denial insanity, which I can't do full justice without just copying it here and standing behind a lead-lined anti desperation field. It involves a case "sent to me in email by a Bro", the dating-advice version of a letter to Penthouse written by "a friend of mine from Canada youwouldn'tknowher", a recommended reply which would make Bizarro Superman look like a tender lover, and the girl actually breaking up with presented as a successful result.
Jeez, man, if you're going write a book about made-up not-dates at least have her dump you because she found you in bed with fourteen zero-gravity cheerleading rocketeers. That way you're at least pretending your psychic woman-hunting anti-voodoo works.
Why Video Game Movies Suck
I turn turning video games into movies into a video game. (That grammar works, I checked).
eBook Insanity: Knife Throwing Techniques Of The Ninja
Page 2 contains everything you need to know about Knife Throwing Techniques Of The Ninja:
First off, that's not a ninja. That's what happens when a kid is so irretrievably fucked they don't even bother the Make-a-Wish people, they just change his pajamas and tell him he's a silent assassin and should practice being ignored. In the book it appears exactly like that - no caption, no figure, no reference in the text, just some guy in black cloth with more tassles than a stripper and a target market which honestly that kicked ass. That couldn't kick a kitten in a boot-testing factory. Because this was in 1986, just after Karate Kid and American Ninja, when the common sense part of every brain under fifteen was destroyed by shurikens.
Now it's been brought forward in time by the eternal-mistake-preserving technology of the internet. So if Facebook got your ass fired for flashing at a frat party, don't worry: it's making up for it by mutilating Naruto fans. This book is extremely popular again on torrents, and a decades-old resurrectee hasn't maimed this many people since the Halloween movies.
If you've spotted that knife-throwing is the worst self-defense mechanism possible, felonious enough to get your ass arrested while ineffective enough to ensure the police have to scrape you into the cell, this author agrees with you - if only subconsciously. Even in his own book dedicated to blade-hurling he starts off with a fan-fiction, set in the days before guns, and still need six pages to invent a situation where throwing knives comes in handy. If you're a fan of "reading" you'll want to skip this part: It makes the average Harry Potter/X-Men crossover seem well-written, and is probably most brain-damagingly bad piece of literature short of being hit in the head with a hardback DaVinci Code.
After showing his homeroom English teacher that he can-so-too get published Mr Peters gets on to the real meat of the book: advising psychotic shut-ins to start carrying knives. This is it starts moving from "crappy cash-in" to "check you don't live near the author." He advises all readers to throw their knives six hundred times a week, which sounds like a great way to turn Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder into a horror movie script, and then carefully explains how knife-throwing is obviously useless unless you carry knives with you every waking moment.
The book also handily removes the readers from the gene pool, because any "date" who hangs around after seeing this picture in your flat is an undercover police officer.
The advice ends up exactly neutral for the non-stab-fan: there's the scary way he tells amateur knifologists to make sure they're always armed, but it's perfectly cancelled by the insane hiding places he comes up with: in your armbands, within your sash, or tucked into your headband or mask wrappings. So any newly-bladed practicioners are already avoided in the street by anyone not currently studying for a Doctorate in Crazy. Besides, anyone walking down the street in a full blade-stuffed sash and Naruto headband had better hope the police find them before anyone else.
Unless, of course, they meet another ninja!
Of course you have to train for various situations where you might meet another ninja - though if you're both really ninja, the chances of seeing each other are on par with two Kate Mosses being in the same Dunkin Donuts. This guy is really preparing for a life of ninja combat - it seems a shame to be so far into a world of delusion without getting a jetpack or a cheerleader. But at least it's encouraging the audience to meet each other, practice knife combat, and help evolution on a little.
This is where I realised the publishers behind this book are geniuses. The author might need to be restricted to sporks, but they're selling this insane crap to people who will never be able to complain. Because you need fingers to work phones, or type, and the sort of person who learns knife throwing out of an online book is about twenty self-assertiveness lessons from the confidence to order at a drive-through. Never mind complaining about someone who owns knives.
It's still the most irresponsible printing since "My First ABC of Cleaning Products That Look Like Fruit Juice," but they've made sure that there are hundreds of miles between them and the involuntary injury machine they've unleashed. In fact, it may be the reincarnated spirit of Charles Darwin working to assist natural selection after deciding - as any intelligent person must - that the first to be purged from the modern world must be white people who say "Bakka".
I have to believe that this secret eBook cabal is working to improve humanity. The only alternative is that author "Michael E. Peters" is a real person walking around loose.
First off, that's not a ninja. That's what happens when a kid is so irretrievably fucked they don't even bother the Make-a-Wish people, they just change his pajamas and tell him he's a silent assassin and should practice being ignored. In the book it appears exactly like that - no caption, no figure, no reference in the text, just some guy in black cloth with more tassles than a stripper and a target market which honestly that kicked ass. That couldn't kick a kitten in a boot-testing factory. Because this was in 1986, just after Karate Kid and American Ninja, when the common sense part of every brain under fifteen was destroyed by shurikens.
Now it's been brought forward in time by the eternal-mistake-preserving technology of the internet. So if Facebook got your ass fired for flashing at a frat party, don't worry: it's making up for it by mutilating Naruto fans. This book is extremely popular again on torrents, and a decades-old resurrectee hasn't maimed this many people since the Halloween movies.
If you've spotted that knife-throwing is the worst self-defense mechanism possible, felonious enough to get your ass arrested while ineffective enough to ensure the police have to scrape you into the cell, this author agrees with you - if only subconsciously. Even in his own book dedicated to blade-hurling he starts off with a fan-fiction, set in the days before guns, and still need six pages to invent a situation where throwing knives comes in handy. If you're a fan of "reading" you'll want to skip this part: It makes the average Harry Potter/X-Men crossover seem well-written, and is probably most brain-damagingly bad piece of literature short of being hit in the head with a hardback DaVinci Code.
After showing his homeroom English teacher that he can-so-too get published Mr Peters gets on to the real meat of the book: advising psychotic shut-ins to start carrying knives. This is it starts moving from "crappy cash-in" to "check you don't live near the author." He advises all readers to throw their knives six hundred times a week, which sounds like a great way to turn Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder into a horror movie script, and then carefully explains how knife-throwing is obviously useless unless you carry knives with you every waking moment.
The book also handily removes the readers from the gene pool, because any "date" who hangs around after seeing this picture in your flat is an undercover police officer.
The advice ends up exactly neutral for the non-stab-fan: there's the scary way he tells amateur knifologists to make sure they're always armed, but it's perfectly cancelled by the insane hiding places he comes up with: in your armbands, within your sash, or tucked into your headband or mask wrappings. So any newly-bladed practicioners are already avoided in the street by anyone not currently studying for a Doctorate in Crazy. Besides, anyone walking down the street in a full blade-stuffed sash and Naruto headband had better hope the police find them before anyone else.
Unless, of course, they meet another ninja!
Of course you have to train for various situations where you might meet another ninja - though if you're both really ninja, the chances of seeing each other are on par with two Kate Mosses being in the same Dunkin Donuts. This guy is really preparing for a life of ninja combat - it seems a shame to be so far into a world of delusion without getting a jetpack or a cheerleader. But at least it's encouraging the audience to meet each other, practice knife combat, and help evolution on a little.
This is where I realised the publishers behind this book are geniuses. The author might need to be restricted to sporks, but they're selling this insane crap to people who will never be able to complain. Because you need fingers to work phones, or type, and the sort of person who learns knife throwing out of an online book is about twenty self-assertiveness lessons from the confidence to order at a drive-through. Never mind complaining about someone who owns knives.
It's still the most irresponsible printing since "My First ABC of Cleaning Products That Look Like Fruit Juice," but they've made sure that there are hundreds of miles between them and the involuntary injury machine they've unleashed. In fact, it may be the reincarnated spirit of Charles Darwin working to assist natural selection after deciding - as any intelligent person must - that the first to be purged from the modern world must be white people who say "Bakka".
I have to believe that this secret eBook cabal is working to improve humanity. The only alternative is that author "Michael E. Peters" is a real person walking around loose.
The Article That Would Not Die!
The Internet Safety Signs, the very first paid article I ever did, keeps surging back like a horror movie villain who's forgotten his keys.
It's fun to see it reposted every few months, even if people seem pyschotically incapable of crediting the poor original site, with the most recent reanimation is up to over 3000 Diggs. Again.
Oh, internet, flattery will get you everywhere.
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