Once the first dinosaurs are cloned, it seems only logical that we will begin racing them. For money and the exhilaration that comes from the threat of mortal peril.

Pepsibones and I handle the writing and production of slop for Omega Level. But both of us being incapable of doing anything more than producing empty sentences and similes involving bodily functions, we’ve relied on a good friend to do all the programming and graphical production for the site.

After growing an impressive beard over the winter that likened him to the Italian equivalent of Osama Bin Laden, he constructed this masterpiece on his face over the weekend. It was too tremendous to not save for posterity’s sake.

Don’t let his soft smile trick you, he’s just trying to lull your defenses. There’s a caged animal within, looking to kidnap your children and befoul your Mom.

I cajoled him into throwing his modesty away and striking a thunderous pose, that likes of which displays the numerous rippling muscles he will use to scale your house, throw your mother (or father depending on his whims that night) over his shoulder, and much like King Kong, run away into the night to commit treachery upon your friendship.

Laid back Saturday afternoon music by General Patton and the Bunglers. Hit the jump to rot your mind.

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Ah, thank goodness it is the end of 2009. What a shitty year! Oh my god! Yeah, it was rough. Naw, it was pretty cool. For a second straight year, my girlfriend didn’t dump me. My sophomore year of sexual intercourse went flowingly. There’s probably a pun there. I graduated from college. Pepsibones Krueger then was like, hey, you graduated college, I’ll do it too. With a 4.0. He’s a braggart and a show-off. I began writing for Mishka Bloglin. God love them, they let me fill them with my waste. And then I was like, hey, Pepsibones, let’s get going on our blog. We need money for caffeine and firearms.

He nodded, and was like, awesome.

There were a shitload of good movies and comic books and video games. All of which I cannot remember well. I think 2009 may go down as the year that my brain decay began to accelerate at warp-drive like speeds. Without researching, and under the acknowledgment that most of what I like is the same pop-medium bullshit that I spend most of my time deriding.

I dug the hell out of the various things across a squad of mediums, and I’m sure I’m going to willfully forget and not name some: The new albums by Dredg, Baroness, Mastodon, Between the Buried and Me, Lamb of God, Kid Cudi, Jay-Z, MC Esoteric, Every Time I Die, Wale, Mos Def, Devin Townsend, Skeletonwitch, and other shitty pop.

I played the shit out of Arkham Asylum, Uncharted 2, Modern Warfare 2, a belated playthrough of 2008’s Dead Space, Borderlands, Ratchet and Clank: A Crack in Time, Assassin’s Creed II, New Super Mario Bros. II, Resident Evil 5, another belated playthrough in Fallout 3, and of course too many hours of World of Warcraft.

Doing rough math, and under-estimating by a ton, and not counting dinners and lunches out, I probably consumed a shit load of Diet Mountain Dew. Let’s say I drink six cans of 12 oz a piece daily. This is way understimating. And two 20 oz bottles. 6 x 12 = 72. 2 x 20 = 40. 40 + 72 = 112. 112 x 365 = 40, 880. And again, I’m under appreciating how much I drink. 40,880 ounces of soda. Jesus Christ. And I wonder why I can’t remember…I can’t remember what I can’t…Remember?

Comic books! Alright, just the nerdy, capes and lasers kind! Fuck yes! If you didn’t read Old Man Logan, Captain America: Reborn, Brubaker’s run on Daredevil and Captain America, Millar’s run on Fantastic Four, Diggle’s run on Daredevil, Morrison’s run on Batman and Robin, pretty much anything Geoff Johns wrote, Ellis’ ending of Planetary, and his Ignition City and like, one issue of Doktor Sleepless, Hickman’s Fantastic Four, Fraction’s Invincible Iron Man, and again, a ton of shit I am forgetting, check them out!

I saw a ton of movies, and also missed a ton. A big fuck you! to me for missing: Up, The Hurt Locker, Moon, A Single Man, An Education, Food Inc, and Where the Wild Things Are. I suck, and any attempt at a list of best movies of year by yours truly would be retarded. But these are the movies I enjoyed! First and foremost, Inglourious Basterds. Fave shit I’ve seen. Then there’s Star Trek, Sherlock Holmes, Crank 2, Gamer – yes, both of those. Retarded, hyperreality mindfucks, okay?! Avatar, I Love You Man, Adventure Land, Zombieland, Drag Me to Hell, Paranormal Activity, Bruno, G.I Joe: Rise of Cobra, no seriously, get drunk and or use your drug of choice and laugh at it with a friend, District 9 and uh, I think that may be it.

That’s a lot of fucking movie money.

Big-Ups to Texas Roadhouse for giving away free peanuts, to everyone who came to my graduation party. A double high-five to the New York Comicon, site of drunken watertower climbing and expensive bottles of wine.

Concerts by people I should remember but can’t like uh, Opeth, Dream Theater, two servings of Mastodon, Between the Buried and Me, In Flames, and Queensryche – it was like watching the cool kids from 1986 dry-hump.

I finally finished The Brothers Karamzov, I finally finished the finger-painting of Ronald McDonald I’d been working on, and I’d finally failed, yet again, at actually eating healthy. Peanut Butter sandwiches at 2 am are awesome, but even moreso if you’ve just finished an entire bag of Tostitos and salsa. Don’t judge me.

Here’s to another year of mindrot and skullfuck.