Rock On!

I've found a bodacious time waster that is Tenacious D based. Gnarly, dude.


I don't know if you are familiar with Guitar Hero, but this little gem plays a bit like it. Just play your keyboard like you would rock on your Martin. The 'strings' are A-S-D-F, just hold them down, and press the spacebar to 'strum' in time. Do it right (tricky), and the music is sweet. Mess up (quite likely), and the music stutters and squeaks, which is what I would expect to happen if I tried to really play a guitar.

You could just leave the keyboard on your desk like some sort of unhip shmuck, and type away frantically, but it's tough to remember which finger coresponds to which key. I've found it easier, and somewhat cooler to hold the keyboard upright, a bit like an accordion, and imagine I don't look like an ass. It feels more like a guitar that way too.

If you have some friends or maybe little brothers, you can probably assign each person their own key to push. A cheap way to post a high score, or fun party activity? I'll let you decide.

Wow, you host some sucky parties dude.

For mad points, you can use the mouse to wriggle the devil's uvula. That part is tricky.

I've decided to use my foot. Hey, that mouse can't get much dirtier unless I wiped it on my dog's butt and cleaned the john with it, why not wriggle that blighter with my little piggies?

That's right. I'm totally rocking Dick van Dyke's one man band in Mary Poppins as Tenacious D.

That song rocks too.

But remember, wriggle the devil's uvula! (with your toes! Or possibly your little brother! I punch my brother in the head when he fails! Don't smash your monitor with the keyboard! Unless you are Pete Townsend!)

Edit: here are the lyrics, just in case you can multi-task hardcore:

"POD"

Cause it's the Pick of Destiny child,
you know we will be rockin' cause it's flippin' insane.
It's just the Pick of Destiny child,
my precious little diamond on a platinum chain.

In Venice Beach there was a man named Kage.
When he buskin he was all the rage.
He met Jables and he taught him well.
All the techniques that were developed in hell.
Crotch-pushups and the power slide.
Geek simulation now there's nowhere to hide.
They formed a band they named Tenacious D.
and then they got the Pick Of Destiny.

Cause it's the Pick of Destiny child,
you know we will be rockin' cause it's frickin' insane.
It's just the Pick of Destiny child,
our tasty moves are better than a chicken chow mein.

Cause he who is sleazy,
is easy to pleasy.
and she who is juicy,
must be loosy-goosey.
and he who is groovy,
will be in my movie, so come on!

The wizard and the demon had a battle royale,
The demon almost killed him with an evil kapow.
But then he broke his tooth,
and thus the demon said Ow.

Cause it's the Pick of Destiny child,
you know we will be rockin' cause it's frickin' insane.
It's just the Pick of Destiny child,
you know our movie's better than a Citizen Kane

Cause he who's a geezer,
must live in my freezer.
and she who is snarky,
is full of malarkey.
and he who is groovy,
must be in my movie, so come on!

Cause if you're a diva,
then go to Geneva.
and if you're a croney,
then suck my baloney.
and if you are groovy,
then get in my movie,
It's called the Pick of Destiny.
It's called the Pick of Destiny!

Dante's Failure

Poor Dante, he didn't quite make to the last circle of hell. He did witness quite a few gory and grotesque tortures for familiar crimes, but the last circle of hell was too much for his innocent mind to comprehend.

In this jaded, internet saturated Jackass post 9/11 world, man is not only slightly more sinful than in the past, but also slightly more capable of not going insane and smacking himself in the face with a hammer when he is told the horrible wretched truth of hell. I have it on a good authority from a source that has actually been there, that the following hidden circles of hell not only exist, but are quite large and well populated:


3.14 Circle: Second level, third door on the right: The especially nerdy and antisocial are found here enduring endless dental operations inflicted by inebriated amateur veternarians with rusty hand cranked tools, firebrands and little biting insects of some sort.

1.5th Circle: Down the corridor, and through the looking glass: The obsessive pharisees and damning finger pointers are forced to edit excrutiatingly long essays posted on internet discussion boards in Klingon and Japanese. They are only allowed to use their own blood as ink, which they produce by stabbing their pens into their eyeballs and are whipped and ridiculed by great greasy flabby ogres that constantly point out bizzare little known laws of Romulan and Inuit grammar. Some march for eternity and are beat mercilessly for making minute mistakes like blinking out of time with the cadence.

9th circle: Uz'thalial's Club: In the back room, VIP only: Executives of massive corporations and especially corrupt politians have their heads removed which are used by Uz'thalial's posse to play pocket billiards on a table of fire and coal. The headless bodies are stood upside down with their shoulders inside bedpans and cesspools of uncouth alien excrement and radioactive waste, with worms slithering and pulsating inside their neckholes while the pool players use their asses to chalk their sticks. Their toes are nibbled on by the firery teeth of the devils for appetizers.

If you get more information, feel free to share! Happy Columbus Day!

Next time, next time!

In the twilight, I could just make out the shape of a man, covered with a cloak, moonbeams clutching the pleats in the soft fabric. He stood motionless among twisted tree branches and knotted gnarly trunks.

An owl flew overhead.

I fixed an arrow to my bowstring and took careful aim at the shade before me.

When I let fly, the string hummed in harmony with the whistle of my bolt through the darkness, the short mood completed with a satisfying 'plunk' in cresendo.

I rushed through the undergrowth, brushing the talons of the woods aside and cracking my shins into fallen logs like Barry Bonds in a steroid induced self destructive craze.

When I reached my aim, all I found was an old Holocaust Cloak with a note:

"Missed me again, jerkface!"

I rubbed my shins and scratched my chin thoughtfully. There was nothing left for me to do, so I powered on the Xbox.

Black and White Dog

Where oh where has my little dog gone?

Oh, where oh where can she be?

I think she's pooping on my neighbors lawn,

or taking a leak on their tree!

She follows her nose where'er she goes,

and scares little children for me!

Ahoy! Is that the neighbors cat?

Ah yes, ah yes, indeed!

Strange how she ignores that cat,

But chases their doggy instead!

Great Debate!

Ok, sorry about the lack of funny recently.

I now bring you the Great Debate!

I recently noticed the popularity of one Superman, (aka Clark Kent) and was slightly disappointed, since I prefer the Green Lantern. The greatest of which is Hal Jordan. Only slightly less great is Kyle Raynor, and if you don't mind scraping the bottom of the Giant Barrel of Class and Style, Guy Gardner and John Stewart are not completely unservicible.

Today's Great Debate is which super Hero is better. Not necessarily stronger or faster, since Superman's limits are theoretical, but merely overall coolness and various qualities that make a good Hero.

Also, I'm only going to use Hal, Kyle, and Clark Kent, since every other variation sucks. (Not that I've seen them all, but this is a fair assumption, get over it.)

Superman

First, look at Superman's costume. He is either too dumb to figure out how to put on his underroos, or he changes clothes so fast, that his pants are on before he finishes pulling up his BVD's.

It is a striking outfit in most other regards, however. Not much chance to enter any sort of stealth mode though, is there?


See how super he looks? The cape is very dramatic. Tons of bulging, rippling muscles as well. It must be hard for artists to contain themselves, I mean, c'mon, he's the greatest, strongest guy in the Universe, so you'd better pack as many swollen muscles on that godlike frame as you can. Somehow, Clark Kent gets rid of all of that added muscle mass instantly, tranforming into the dweebiest dweeb of all. Oh yeah, Superman is a little schitzo.

Oh, and I think maybe he has a hard time fitting pants, 'cause he always wears a belt. But that may just be a sign of the times he was born in.

Character wise, he is too super. Gets kinda boring. Plus, he can't have a love life. He is the last of his kind, there can never be another, without some creative writing.

Superman is an alien, and as such is kinda creepy for anyone to have feelings for. Losing his entire planet and family is pretty good back story, but it's pretty fantastic. You might sometimes want to be like Superman, but nobody wants to actually be him.

Powers include: Flying, moving fast, x-ray vision, lasers shoot out of his eyes, lightning shoots out his ass, he is bullet proof, indestructible, etc. Only weakness is the incredibly easy to obtain Kryptonite, which is supposidly shards of his homeworld. Probably shards of alien broccoli.

And now on to:

The Green Lantern

Hal Jordan

Ah. Now that's style! Sweet custom Domino mask, subdued styling with just the right amount of Heroic Flair. He can go into stealth mode instantly with green, and wont leave any fingerprints behind to incriminate his alter ego.

You will also notice the lack of any sort of cape. Capes have been the downfall of many super Heroes. The mask adds enough drama on it's own. Absolutely no problem with his underpants, and no belt. This is a modern, 'with it' kinda guy.

His hair isn't greasy looking, it's long and full of body. He usually has that sweet Indiana Jones chin stubble.

Character wise, this is one seriously cool dude. Test pilot for fighter planes, he was chosen to be Earth's Green Lantern on account of bravery, fearlessness, integrity, and downright awesomeness.

Hal isn't a disgusting mass of pulsating muscles and veins like some other 'Heroes', but he is well built, and nicely proportioned.

The beauty of the Green Lantern, is the Corps. Anyone can be a Lantern Bearer if they are pure of heart, strong, fearless, have huge brass ones, and can grow chin stubble.

Powers include: Being able to make anything he can imagine out of some kind of light emitted from his rechargable Power ring. Light against Darkness, get it?

I decided to throw in Kyle Rayner for the heck of it. He's got a kickass costume (especially his new one, not pictured). This costume looks even more like a Harlequin, which gets some bonus points from the French Judges.

He's designed for the violent, jaded, MTV generation, mostly focused on weapons, but recently became more stable and respectible. He became a Green Lantern on accident, but that proved fortuituous.

I don't know a whole lot about him, and less about the other slobs that wear Green.

Oops

I forgot to write a sappy 9/11 post today. Here you go:

Sappy, sappy, blah blah,

Sob.

Blah, sappy, sap, sap, damn terrorists.

How am I supposed to watch TV now?

All of my favorite TV torrent sites are ridiculously unreliable, running on flaming pocket calculators somewhere. I don't have time to sit down and watch tv when my shows get broadcast, so I usually download them. Too bad my favorite TV torrent tracking sites are burning heaps of police confiscated crapola.

There. I said it. I download dubiously legal TV shows. Prison Break, 24, Dr. Who, etc. There are hard to find. tvtorrent.info folded a while ago, and now eztvefnet.org is gone. (Well, not gone for sure, just gone for now. Maybe it will come back. Then it will catch on fire again. I'd hate to be the guy that runs it. He must just sit there frantically hacking way, spraying it randomly with a fire extinguisher, kicking it, and then he coaxes it back into operation for about ten minutes, and then it bursts into flames again.

I mean, I could delve into the darkness that is torrentspy, but a good percentage of 'Prison Break' searches deliver results of the XXX variety, or a gazillion episodes from last season. Mininova isn't bad, but I still crave the convenience I once enjoyed.

It's almost as if the media companies that pay for these shows don't like me downloading them, which would mean that I would not watch them at all.

I'm sorry that this a rant, and not 'teh funny', but I am bitter, ok jerkface((s), depending on if that other guy reads this)? (My parenthesis (are) getting (out) of control!))?

Yes. In case you use this thing as a magic eightball, the answer is yes!

Ok, It seems eztvefnet.org is back, but for how long? Who knows? Say, if you are brave, a looking for some fantastically hilarious, slightly less obscene than 'South Park' show, check out the 'Venture Bros'.

My titles lack creativity somehow

NO! It says 'titles' not 'titties'. Perverts.


Here:

No, wait, over there ---> Ha! got you! down there, |


So, got carried away for a moment. Stephen Hawking is looking for a new assistant. Apparently, applicants will need to progress through a wacky castle completing a series of challenges ranging from basic computer programming, to building a room out of a bunch of puzzle pieces. The journey is probably a lot more fun than the destination in this case though. I decided to attempt the impossible, and tried out.

Day 1, 12AM:

There are a lot of dorks lined up in front of the castle with me waiting for the bell. What nerds! They haven't showered in weeks, and they are all wearing stupid anime t-shirts. Met a guy named Felix who plays Chromehounds, found out he's in my squad! Cool!

Day 1, 2PM:

Only half of us made in past the flamingos and the weird memory game to gain entry into the house. Poor Felix got his head blown off by a flamingo's laser.

Day 1, 5PM:

After much struggling, some pain, and a little backstabbing, I made it to the cipher room. I haven't seen any other applicants for 15 minutes, so I think I'm a little behind. Crap. Let's see, t-u?

Day 2, 11PM:

Oh $#!^! It's RSA encrypted! WTF? This is impossible!

Day 3, 12AM:

I killed a man. This is insane. All I wanted was his PBJ sandwich. WHY IS THIS EVEN PART OF THE COMPETITION? Why do we need real guns?

Day 3, 6PM:

Ok, I've got the hang of the whole lion taming thing. I figured out how to work the whip, but the stool? What's that for? Stephen Hawking is crazy! I don't need to kill people or tame lions to be his assistant! This doesn't make sense! Oh, wait, ping pong!

Day 5, 3PM:

Nothing matters but victory. I have tasted success. Failure is not an option. Failure is for the weak. I will emerge the champion, and all others will perish. My glory will shine upon their lifeless corpses, and they will gnash their teeth in envy.

Day 5, 3:30PM:

Aww. I got disqualified. Got one wrong, 'Jai Alai' isn't a parlour game. Crap. Oh well, who wants to wipe dribble from the chin of Dr. Hawking? Made it pretty far though, so I didn't humiliate myself.

The Joys of Dental Work

Are few.

Alas, but I, to the Dentist, went, and a Canal of Root, got.

Sucks. The good news is that it didn't hurt. The bad news is I need another one. Next time, a metal rod inside the $#@! root they will put.

See what I'm doing there? Puting the verb after the subjects? That's just a small example of how I can be an ass. (It's not Yoda-speak.)

On to more interesting topics.

Movies? Ok. I'm gonna go watch one, and try to forget the horror that lays ahead, waiting, like a horror that lays await for you, up ahead, waiting, like, well, something horrible.

I shot the Sheriff, but I didn't shoot no Red Baron

I was flying my trusty Sopwith Camel across the English channel, as I am wont to do from time to time, in this jaded, post 1914 world, when I got bounced by a red Fokker triplane. I executed a quick Immelman Maneuver, but when I looked back, he was still on my tail.

Firery tracers flicked past the cloth covered wings of my trusty biplane, like so many angry lightning bugs from hell. I shoved the stick in the opposite direction, and mowed through a sea gull. This provided a brief smoke screen to hide my next manuever, which caused the guy wires in my wings to creak, the wood groaned under the stress. These sounds were loud over the roar of my engine. They had to be, if any part of the rigging failed, I could die, or pay hefty repair costs to that jerk repair guy back at the aerodrome.

I clamped the cigar in my teeth, and held on as I dove upside down yet again. The wind rushed past, the engine screaming, and the scent of oil strong. I must be leaking somewhere again.

The red Fokker was on my tail, still I could not shake him! I had lost so much altitude that salty brine was spraying off the whitecaps from the sea below onto my oily googles. I anxiously smeared my flying glove across the lenses, but that made it worse. The world was now streaky, blurry, and whirling around me, out of control. I was losing it, I couldn't dive any lower. I can't shake him! I can't shake him!

My engine sputtered, greasy feathers flew out. Stupid gull really mucked up the works. Repairs are really gonna add up when I get back! I took a quick glance behind me, and he was gone.

Damn you, Red Baron! Damn you and your delicious pizza!

Spamalicious, dude.

I'm breaking with tradition here and posting once again on this, my much ignored blog.

(computer games don't play themselves)

Today's topic is my spam from the last post.

This guy left a comment saying that my blog was inquisitive. That makes sense, IF YOU THINK MY BLOG ASKED SOME SERIOUS QUESTIONS. I'm yelling for emphasis, because that indicates that my blog is now hungry. Don't actually buy stocks based on that guy's "advice" or his "friends". While park rangers are known for their acute instincts and bear rangling abilities, they aren't respected on Wall Street, unless there is a bear market. HA!

On the bright side, Juicy Fruiter updates a bit more frequently, so maybe you can all become fans of his, and send him money market advice. Have fun reading his stories about being a park ranger! Try to refrain from making fruit related gay jokes!

I think that this bonehead may be the same guy, since his comment is nearly identical, sans the park ranger schpiel. He's big on nanotechnology, but boring as hell.

"I read over your blog, and i found it inquisitive," he says. Liar. I guess there is a big advertising firm that just hands out a handy list of comments to their rats so they can attract people to their fake blogs to read crappy advertisements, and they just pulled whatever the biggest word was they knew out of their asses and pasted it into the blank.

"Get any Desired College Degree, In less then 2 weeks.

Call this number now 24 hours a day 7 days a week (413) 208-3069

Get these Degrees NOW!!!

"BA", "BSc", "MA", "MSc", "MBA", "PHD",

Get everything within 2 weeks.
100% verifiable, this is a real deal

Act now you owe it to your future.

(413) 208-3069 call now 24 hours a day, 7 days a week."

Go on, do it. You know you want to. Get a college degree in less than two weeks! Whee! Wait, how much drinking can I expect to get done in that amount of time? I can't finish a whole bag of College Herbs in two weeks! I needed to get four years of hard drugs and wild parties before I got a serious job trolling the internet pretending to be a park ranger that likes stupid blogs and "knows a guy that knows a guy that recommends nanotechnology stocks."

This was all in fun, if any of those jerks are really people that really did think my blog was "inquisitive" or possibly "alluring" or maybe even "solipistic", or if they were hacked and setup by "the man" then I apologize, please send more spam, so I can make fun you, you jerks.