$elling out, $ucking dick$, part 2: Google Loves my Cock

The process of $elling out is complete: Google has trawled my page and decided which ads are most appropriate to my demographic of young, sexy, limber internetualists. Google, in it's infinite wisdom, has chosen to do this using ads for other blogging services. I've gotta say, this is kind of an insult. Not to get all ass-kissy, but I'm perfectly happy with Blogger, even though you can cut and paste stuff directly into the Compose window, preventing me from bringing you my extensive Dark Crystal extended continuity fan fiction. True that. On the plus side the picture insertion interface makes it ludicrously easy to fill my blog with pictures of Claire Danes.
Now, for those of you with integrity left, Google tailors ads to a site by picking up key words. Clearly I haven't used enough references to awful hair metal bands to provide you with the links you crave. Therefore, my first review in a while will be a critical deconstruction of this album cover by the band Jackyl.

Availability

Amazon.com carries the slighty-larger-than-a-thumbnail image you see above, found while searching for all albums with songs about cocks in them (track eleven of Jackyl's eponymous album is the sublime 'she loves my cock') for a mixtape I intend to give to each potential sex partner, and possibly to play during my wedding and funeral. Unfortunately my search was confined to the internet by the narrowminded clerks of Portland's record stores, who failed to appreciate my creative vision. I had assumed that, as adults, they would be able to critically distance themselves from my muscular, oiled penis, which I presented to them to illustrate the mood I was going for in my mixtape. In all fairness though, I was in the terminal phase of a fifteen day metamphetamine binge and chose to announce my presence by playing an air-guitar version of Pantera's 'Vulgar Display of Power' album, in it's entirity, on a severed arm.
Incidentally, if the owner of the arm would like it returned (for sentimental reasons, as the unsanitary conditions in which I am storing it preclude reattachment via microsurgery) then by all means contact me.

Graphics

Baffling surrealist horror.
Let's begin in the centre and work our way out, like Theseus navigating Minos's labyrinth. The figure in the centre, wearing the Ultimate Poet's Shirt, is attempting to smoke a magic marker. As a regular abuser of solvents I can attest to the potency of the marker as a means to get tore out of one's frame. The figure to his right is clearly disturbed by this, much like my friends and caseworker, and has morphed his arm into living rock in order to smash the offending item. This mastery of the Cosmic Elements marks him out as a Super-Skrull, one of a caste of elite warriors in the Skrull empire endowed with the powers of the Fantasic Four. The subtext here is obvious: the amorphous representative of a warlike race is attempting to cut off a creative genius from his source of chemical inspiration. That the artist can produce such a potent metaphor for my current situation, being 'punched' (imprisoned in a secure psychiatric facility) by a 'Super-Skrull' (The State of Oregon) for expressing myself (the list of my violations of the laws of man and God will not be reproduced here, for the sake of brevity, but for the word 'expressing', read 'exposing')
Note that the Ultimate Poet's legs extend down into a black rose, directly above Jackyl's box of ancient artifacts (a common feature in their live shows), which appears to be firing the Ten Commandments directly upward. Also of note is the figure directly behind the drug metaphor, who appears to be wearing the costume of Emperor Palpatine's Royal Guard, the savagery with which he weilds his chainsaw (a traditional weapon of the Sith) and the fact that he has discarded his mask point to the brutality of the corporate-sponsored War on Drugs, specifically, the War on Me Taking Drugs and Driving Stolen Policecars Through Farmer's Markets. Note the indifference with which the fellow trying to open a bottle of wine, tellingly hooked up to a defibilator, views the scene. It is my contention that the represents none other than YOU, the American public, looking on as I am railroaded into the psychiatric ward in a show-trial for nothing more than running around downtown Portland punching strangers and shrieking. You should be ashamed America.
Also, they're all dogs for some reason.

Sound

We must all be very quiet. They're monitoring this conversation. Who are 'they' you ask? Well, wouldn't your narrow white ass like to know.

Gameplay

The endless interpretive possibilities of this artistic masterstroke easily rivals GTA: San Andreas or Metal Gear Solid 3: Snake Eater for playability. Also, the eyes follow me around the room, and command me to kill in the name of Jesse Dupree.

Overall
I am at a loss for words with which to describe this. Therefore it gets my new highest rating: a picture of an emaciated looking Claire Danes all wet and shooting water:

Claire Danes! Watergun attack! Go!

Games Roundup: tEh sUxx0r u luv

Fluffy-Dinkums gets ready for squad-based online action by firing at bystanders in Satan's name (above)

As ever, I have the hottest scoops in gaming: straight from my Gaming Overmind to your sweaty palms:

Streetfighter: Popular Culture Reference Rumble: Hurricane Katrina edition

The enduringly popular Streetfighter series finally enters September 2005 (after August's mold-breaking Street Fighter: Trapped in the Closet Battle Royale) with this installment featuring characters tangential to events in New Orleans. Players can choose from 93 playable characters, including Michael Brown, Cindy Sheenan, Sean Penn, Kanye West, Chun Li and Bill Clinton. Though a confusing array of new characters meant that in previous Streetfighter games the character's picture was so small that it couldn't be selected without affecting the outcome, developers Konami have allayed player's fears by promising that you will be able to see Chun Li's panties (descirbed as 'white cotton') during high-kicks and cartwheels.

Special Operations: Terrifyingly real ops executive black gamma: Colon: Middle Eastern Goregasm:

Coldly Brutal games unvieled their potential Battlefield 2 beater at Gamecon 1997, held in the Scranton Freight Airport Hilton, NJ. The game promises a level of arbitrary death unparalelled in modern gaming: with enemy snipers able to fire through all terrain features and, in a bold move, able to see and kill the player before the game is installed. Players are invited to log on to Coldly Brutal's website, where they can register their repeated deaths in the game before purchase. A full complement of modern weapons is included, from military staples like the M4 to more esoteric weapons like the FN-P90 submachinegun, a medieval Mace and the exploding clam-shells used to assasinate Fidel Castro. All weapons will be purely ceremonial, as their use alerts enemy artillery positions to your location.
The Developers promise that although you and 99% of people you know will be unable to play the game, due to its massive system requirements and the fact that you can be killed by enemy fire during loading screens, there will always be that one guy you know who has never touched a girl yet can miraculously survive punishing military simulators, respects Rommel like most people respect Martin Luther King and can actually remember all the bastard key-bindings that prevent your squad from marching single-file into machine gun fire like most people remember their children's names.
Special Operations: Terrifyingly real ops executive black gamma: Colon: Middle Eastern Goregasm will be published in Febuary 2006.

Championship Manager 2008: Look, we don't mind if you masturbate.

A refreshingly honest addition to the popular football management franchise. CM2008:LWDMIYM offers a stripped-down interface, allowing players to get down to the nitty-gritty of Championship Managing (wanking themselves silly over pictures of footballers) without any of the tedious statistics or interactivity, via a simple Windows Slideshow of the players of Divisions 1-4, the Premiership and Scottish cup. Pre-orders have already overwhelmed the game's developer; the combined effects of a failing education system and radiation from mobile phones is credited for creating a generation of 13-45 year olds incapable of relating to each other through other means that reciting the excruitiating minutae of a game they themselves are too overweight to play.

Perfect Dark Zero

A prequel to the Nintendo 64 smash, this Halo-beating title follows the adventures of a young Joanna Dark: how young? Well, developers Rare say that levels will involve skipping, doing cartwheels, putting on mummy's shoes and crying because your uncle touched you in a bad place. A version where the uncle is replaced by Cthulu and all skipping and cartwheeling is removed is in development for the lucrative Japanese market.

Japanese pornographic staple Cthulu, explaining to Agent Joanna Dark what to tell her mother if she asks where those bruises came from. (c) Rare interactive

$elling out, $ucking dick$

Claire Danes can enla5ge your pen15!! millions of satisfied customers!

As you will have no doubt noticed, I've gone and sold out my limitless integrity by putting a Google Adspace thing on the top of my blog. I assure you, this was only done for money. And bitches.
I get money for every click on the ads above, which potentially could lead you to hot Britney Spears nude jpegs, World of Warcraft hacks+scripts, maybe even rare Claire Danes bukkake pics. This boobs will hopefully generate more revenue than the current Herbal Viagra penis enlargement shemales nothing I get from this site (Boobs), allowing me to purchase more Harry Potter slash fiction totally hot!!!!!.

Suicidegirls, um, suicide themselves

Some Suicidegirls, suggesting lesbianism but not actually touching naughty bits or anything

All is not well with the moderately attractive Suicidegirls
The pierced, tatted and puppy-fatted young ladies of SG.com have experienced something of a pogrom of late, with Sicily, Katie, Apnea and various other softcore types have been excluded from the site. Don't worry, you can still see pictures of their pale, half-attractive bodies, they just won't be able to write stuff about how Midterms suck on their journals and stuff.
You see, up until now everybody thought that SG was masterminded by 'Missy', a vaguely punkish blonde who was the group's mouthpiece in the press. As it turns out, the whole shebang was really created by Sean Suhn, a very male guy with a talent for marketing, and a penis. And according to this, the guy's also an asshole who pushes girls around, verbally abuses them and won't let them sign contracts. Though it is never stated that he eats babies and endorses cancer, it is implied. So that whole thing about how SG is run by girls, for girls is bullshit.
The news has sent the internet world reeling, with Suicidegirls members dropping rapidly while membership to actual pornographic websites climbs to 113% of all net users. As the markets closed today Suicidegirls was down 25.23 on the Shaftfro-Analstar exchange, and 38.19 on the L'Il Bow-Wow-Dow-Jones.

Real Suicidegirls founder 'Sean', no doubt plotting to poison Gotham City's water supply or produce the next System of a Down record or something really fucking evil, yesterday, (c)Associated Press.

Say my name bitch!

AVAST!
If a man ye be an' not some scurvy dog, then ye surely know that it be Talk Like a Pirate day! ARR!
For that is why today I be going by me sea-name, as calculated on me computer machine: X marks tha spot for some manner a' devilish trickery the likesa which ye lubbers have never seen.
But beware, y'are destined fer a trip to tha boneyard if Pirate ye be not! ARR!
Now, for the blackest an' darkest of the sea shanties, known only to the pillaginest sea dogs:

Oooooh.....
Who lives in a pineapple under the sea?
Spongebob Squarepants!

Yours, with oodles of love and kisses

Captain Black Harry Bonney

A World Without 46 Stupid Definitions of the N-Word: Urbandictionary.com and the case for the extinction of the human race

I've said it before, I'll say it again and it even says it on SomethingAwful.com, the Internet makes you stupid.
Case in point: Urbandictionary.com
The idea is a solid one: a site with which people can define funny little slang words like 'bling', 'freebase' and 'Abraham Lincoln'. All of which are useful definitions for me describing a typical day in my life.
The problem with this site is that nowhere is it made clear that everybody attempting to define a term on this site is functionally retarded. Let's look at some case studies:

Amy Lee is the singer of the pop group* Evanescence, who many of you will remember from the soundtrack to the documentary film Daredevil. Despite being physically attractive and having a pleasing operatic vocal style, the music of her group has been objectively verified, by science, to be 'as much fun as hearing your children die' (Prof. Francis Avenue Going Under a farm animal to lick its balls: The music of Evanescence in light of Post-Marxist theory, 1981, Harvard University Press) Despite miss Lee's negliable contribution to modern music she warrants fourteen definitions, and all but one are gushing praise of this 'amazing singer'. One poster admits to crying during the song 'My Immortal', another explains that 'people who call her a wannabe goth r (sic) just dumb. she is also stunning'. One battles through illiteracy to write: "(she is the) Mortal shape asumed by God when (s)he comes down to Earth to sing", which clearly conflicts with miss Lee's oft-stated Christian beliefs.

Another nugget of wisdom is farted onto the Interweb when the Urbandictionary community attempt to define Communism. Now, obviously it would be foolish of me to dismiss Marx's work simply because it was written during a three day binge of nutmeg and the ammonia from toilet cubes, or because pages 46-79 of the Communist Manifesto are Harry Potter/Rugrats slash fiction (and extensively illustrated I might add). I firmly believe that people should be able to believe in whatever ludicrous bullshit they want. Now most people on Urbandictionary express the view that Communism is evil and/or unworkable, technically right I suppose, but choose to do so by using the dumbest, most ignorant arguments available to humankind. Sixty-Nine times. Read just a little of Urbandictionary and you'll notice this trend: it's not enough to define something, a word can only enter the cannon after being defined dozens of times. Dozens of times. Yeah, dozens. Oh, and capital and lowercase letters are definitely either/or for the Urbandictioneers. Let's look at some of the many turds thrown at communism, like a shit-bullet in a heavily politicised all-monkey production of John Woo's The Killer:

murderous atheistic/satanic political ideology- 'stupid fucks'

I want to dig up Marx's body and shit right in his mouth and all over his face and wipe my ass on his beard! - 'Communism sucks dick'

Communism is the most homosexual form of government of all.All forms of government are homosexual but communism is the gayest,most retarded of all. - HEY,let's "NOT" all fag off together!

It's great to see intellectual heavyweights like fucks, dick and together! weigh in on this important issue.
Next, after five minutes of pressing the 'random' button I finally landed amongst the most important and contentious arguments of our time: Race. Specifically, the use and meaning of the N-word. Please don't click that link if you have any faith left in the human race.
Generously titled 'author' "STEVIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE" advances this argument immensely with this crack-addled post:

Niggers are the kind of kids who come from farmingdale and freeport to steal the bikes from inocent white kids in massapequa
Niggers are the kind of people who on madden "role wit vick" and dont appreciate the warriors in the NFL such as John Lynch or Mike Alstot instead niggers know how to role right and throw a no look 60 yard bomb to Randy Moss (who they got because the turned off fair trades) from vick, who by the way is being layedf out by Brian Urlacher while randy Moss's helmet isnt on his head cause Donjnie Edwerds layed him the fuck out

There are forty-six other definitions. Maybe there are some that are even more stupid than the one above. I doubt it.
The existence of people who look at forty-five retarded definitions of the N-word and decide that tEh IntErwEb would not be complete without their latest musing on the injustice of why it's okay for black people to say it but not for eleven year olds who think Linkin Park invented music to use it as generic insult over IRC chat flies in the face of Darwinism like a 737 hijacked by militant Creationists.
Please click this link, read the arguments and give generously. Thankyou.

* I know many 12-14 year olds will disagree with my definition of Evanescence as a 'pop group', and many of you will no doubt want to use the comments box to call me a homosexual. However, I also consider the Beatles and The Jesus and Mary Chain to be 'pop groups'. If you wish to insult me, do so because I truly believe that Evanescence are talentless wastes of organs that could be better used to prolong Bob Dylan's life enough for him to record a new album.

Webcamtravaganza - 'Death by Sexy'

My webcam is finally up, so I can delight and titalate you with sexy-awesome pictures of whatever is directly in front of my computer. Usually me.
Or my Lava Lamp.
Or Powers Booth, staring at me with such singular malice that I feel my soul dying.

(note: my profile picture shall always be that wicked-radical Deathstroke action figure. Now and forever.)

Chronicles of Awesome vol. 2: Shameless promotion

OMG1!1!!!!!!one!!!11!: Events in Basra, yesterday

Now, it's not my style to promote other websites, even more so when I'm not being paid for it. I will make an exception in this case and heap my 'props' upon Last.fm
If you're not in the know I'm going to let you know.
So I'm at a college right now that thoughtfully prevents me from downloading shit off teh Interweb. This was brutally rubbed in my face the other day when Campus Security arrived to have a little word with my housemate for downloading Battlefield 2, leading to his interweb access being curtailed for a week. Now, to be fair I'd been downloading stuff for about a week, but I guess security only takes an interest when a game could be used to train terrorists to drop artillery strikes on their own heads and insult each others' sexuality via team chat (which would more than double Al-Qaeda's effectiveness as a fighting force). Last.fm lets you, or more accurately me, upload the names of tracks you've (I've) been listening to on Winamp or -snigger- Media Player so Last.fm can upload it into their database, cross reference it with other artists and then stream Bloc Party songs regardless of what music you listen to. For instance, here's my user profile, top artist is Pig Destroyerfollowed by David Cross, cLOUDDEAD, Atari Teenage Riot and various others. The Last.fm 'recommended artists' thingy has so far bought up Wilco and Bloc-Bastard-Fucking-Circle-Jerk-Wankoff-Party. I've got a sneaking suspiscion that their recommendations database is actually some dude from NME wired up to the Internet and capable of generation 2.5 million bloodless, soulless 'Indie' rock bands per week.
Besides all that, Last.fm is actually pretty okay (it has just this second redeemed itself in my eyes by playing 'Up Against the Wall' by the Icarus Line). It's free so if like me you live under the constant surviellence of campus IT administrators and copyright-lawsuit happy lawyers then give a go.

But seriously...

Allyson Hannigan, not pictured: tragic events.

There's a big list of charities with relief funds for Hurricane Katrina on Instapundit. Give generously (as in more than $20 USD), supply me with proof of your niceness (a screen grab for instance) and I'll fill this blog with pictures of Alysson Hannigan and puppies.