It’s one of the eternal debates: what fat bastard was   the coolest fat bastard of the WWF? I got to thinking about it yesterday, and it’s been difficult to pick a side. I mean, Yokozuna was awesome. But then there was Earthquake. Earthquake was like the hillbilly version of Yokozuna. He was just as fat, except he had a sweet ass skullet and lightning bolts on his uniform.

Both of their finishing moves were the typical Fat Bastard finishing move: they squished you with their stunning ass. Like, literally, their ass stunned you. After they were done with you, you were a paralyzed mush of humanity. Can you even imagine what lurks in the crevices of Earthquake’s fatty leg rolls? Sweet Jesus Christ. There’s got to be dingleberries, little flecks of shit, half a roll of toilet paper, dried semen, a buffalo wing, a remote control for his VCR, and a litter of now-dead, but previously-cute kittens.

If I had to chose, I’m going Earthquake. His aforementioned skullet would seal the deal by itself, but he also has a sick plumage of chest hair, and when he teamed up with Tugboat to form the Natural Disasters, it was an alliance the likes of which we may never see again. It was actually the threat of the USA deploying them into Pinko Russian that brought down the Berlin Wall. It’s true, look it up on the internet.

Yo, cheer up Sawyer! I’m sorry, you let me down, but I still love you, okay?

I’ve had a week to stew about the steaming pile of shit that was last week’s episode of LOST. It may have not been the worst one ever; there were no golf courses made or anything of that banality. But I mean, a typical “Nothing Happens in LOST” episode in the middle of the final season? An episode centered around the Freckled Whore? Jesus. Forty-plus minutes of her trying to get into Sawyer’s pants after his would-be fiance died, and giving birthing tips to that Australian chick. Youch!

I’m over it though, I’m over it. I’m excited to see you again. I’m not going to lie, I thought about you all week. So, tell you what, let’s just put this shit down as Water Under the Bridge, and try and enjoy ourselves tomorrow night, okay?

Oh shit yeah! What the fuck is up, ya’ll! Happy President’s Day! For those outside the Empire, it’s basically a meaningless holiday. Like every other holiday, we Americans just use it as an excuse to draw people into centers of merchandise through the allure of sales based on the holiday. It’s pretty cool though, because I just bought myself a replica of Peter North’s cock. JK! Though, I’m actually impressed but not shocked that one exists. I wrote the previous sentence without verifying that it was real.

Oh, internet, you never ever fail me!

Monday Morning Commute. Every Monday I’m going to detail the various things I’m either currently or will be watching, reading, playing, and listening to in the next seven days. It’s Monday. You’ve got a long week of school, work, or compulsive masturbation to get through. Tell me the arts that you’re indulging in, to stave off suicide.

Watching / The Hurt Locker

It’s worth nothing that The Hurt Locker is one of my favorite movies in a long fucking time. I watched it a couple of weeks ago, and I haven’t been able to get it out of my mind since. If you’re like me, and didn’t get to see it in the theaters because you’re an idiot and only see pop-slop explosion movies, go rent this shit. It’s value lies primarily in the tension that permeates the entire movie. Do you remember how intense The Dark Knight was when they were transporting Dent? The entire movie is the same sort of white-knuckle insanity.

Underlying it all is an examination of the toll of having your life on the line everyday while in the army, and the value you begin to place on various things due to it.

Also? It’s got impressive explosions.

Reading / Infoquake, David Louis Edelman

I’ve been wanting to read Infoquake like woah since I came across a review of it at Mishka Bloglin. The reviewer sold me with:

This book is equal parts Liberation: and Snow Crash. With maybe a slight dash of Neuromancer. Maybe.

I’m a sucker for cyberpunk, post-cyberfunk, and anything that is an off-shoot or derivative of said genres. Also, Snow Crash is one of my favorite books of all time, so the aforementioned quote translates to something like “If you like your favorite things, you’ll like it.”

After being pissed off that I couldn’t find it at Barnes and Noble, I manned up and ordered it through their website. While I wanted to spurn their asses for not carrying quality books in their stores, I recalled that I won a gift card for B&N in a vicious game of Yankee Swap back on Christmas Day. Yeah, fuck you and your Patriots’ t-shirt, I want the book fake-money! Now to be outdone, I expedited that shit! It’ll be here soon, and I plan on pushing anything I was intending to read off to the side until I rip through it with the ferocity of an unhappy Ares.

Playing / Bioshock 2

It’s taking every fiber of self-discipline I have to not buy Bioshock 2. Like, seriously. Self-discipline is up there with Not Leaving Crumbs as two of the skills I will probably never master. And usually, the two collide. Like, when I eat an entire box of Chez-Its while drifting off to sleep in my bed as I watch NHL On The Fly. Then I wake up covered in crumbs, and I contemplate the fact that I’m never going to be able to get away with this the day My Beautiful But OCD Girlfriend lets me into her home.

So, self-discipline? Yeah, I don’t know how I’m pulling it off. Bioshock is one of my favorite games of the decade, and its sequel is just sitting on shelves asking me to consume it. I don’t think a sequel was needed, and that is one of the things I keep repeating to myself when I stare longingly through the glass at it in Target. That, and I have fourteen games I haven’t finished yet.

I know myself though, and I know that by the entire of the week I’ll be rapturously within Rapture. It’s only a matter of time.

—

What are you guys up to this week?

Here’s the thing. Despite some of my disappointment regarding Mass Effect 2, I am woefully addicted to it. And here’s another thing, I’m a fucking asshole. So when I heard that you could get DLC for Mass Effect 2 from cups at 7-Eleven, I knew I had to buy them. It was some team-up with Dr. Pepper, or something, or something. I have no idea. They’re just shitty helmets or something, but it didn’t matter. Because I’m an asshole. And the worst part is, I am so against getting nickle and dimed like this, and yet I give into it.

There’s a code per cup, and I needed like, obviously, all of them. I contemplated triple-stacking a cup, and passing it off as one Double Gulp of the Diet Pepsi. You know, Lil’ Wayne style, screwed-up on two-cups. But then the better, God-fearing side of me kicked in. I walked up to the counter and I asked the guy, can I buy a cup? He nodded his head and smiled. For some reason, I tried to explain to him why I was an asshole.

Yeah, I play this video game [not explaining what game] and they’ve got codes.

He smiled. I’m sure he had no idea what he was talking about. I left the store victorious.

I’m an asshole.

Happy Valentine’s Day

Don’t give me the standard “Uggh, Valentine’s Day, it’s completely made-up” argument. Yeah, it’s completely fabricated. As is every holiday (Wha? Jesus wasn’t born in snow-covered manger on December 25^th?!?).

If you’ve managed to fool someone into loving you, spend some time with `em today. If you don’t have anyone special in your life, go find someone.

And if you’re going to sit inside sulking all day, at least eat a heart-shaped box of chocolates. The shape makes the candy taste better (it’s been proven – by science).

To get you in the mood, a love song:

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

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FRIDAY! FRIDAY! FRIDAY!

BEER! BEER! BEER!

TONIGHT WE DRINK AWAY THE HOLLOW NIGHTMARE, THE LINGERING WORK-WEEK GHOSTS! THE CONJURED DEMONS OF SOCIETY CRUMBLE AND DECAY UNDER DURESS OF THE FERMENTED NECTAR! THIS. IS. BREW REVIEW!!!

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• The Cover to Nemesis #1 Has Been Revealed
  I can’t tell if Mark Millar is devolving into self-parody, or if he’s getting more and more amazing.
• Guile Is Sonic Fucked
  I stumbled across this over at Split-Screen, a new video game blog I came across. The blog is dope too.
• The Haircut Umbrella Screams “You’ll Need Therapy”
  Yeah, let’s see. Stick a cone around your neck like a dog who can’t stop licking his oozing wound, and then shave your head. Your future therapist thanks your parents.
• Fear of a 12th Planet: Remote Viewing
  Over at Mishka Bloglin is my favorite weekly column, “Fear of a 12th Planet”, which focuses on out there shit, conspiracy theories, and other shit that my paranoid brain likes. This week? Remote viewing. True or not? Who cares. Interesting.

Jack’s a pretty understanding guy. For instance, before he dropped the ball and was totally the cause of his wife’s death, he used to make her pancakes. And then this week, he proved to be a genuine Sir Lancelot. At the end of the episode, he was totally okay with consoling a crazy chick who when she isn’t mauling Russian rapists and attempting suicide , apparently likes to stab him.

Jack, you fucking Romeo.

When Dana Walsh is walking through CTU in her slinky dress, everything is right with the world. No, seriously. When she was on the screen this episode, for but a moment, I remembered why I loved her so much. Why they don’t have her running around with a gun, or at the very least, not dealing with an ex-con boyfriend is beyond me. But no such luck, she’s involved with helping some guy she should have turned in a couple of hours ago with some bank heist, which goes understandably poorly.

This entire subplot is written so predictably, you can actually just walk away from the screen while it’s going on. Go take a shit and make a sandwich. Then wait for that sandwich to digest, and shit that out. You’ll still be waiting for the Goofy Band of Yokels and Starbuck to get off the screen.

Of course they fuck everything up, probably because they were mesmerized by indoor lighting which they don’t have in their shacks in Alabama or something.

The President of That Made Up Country continues fucking things up for his people the entire episode. The guy is a complete douchebag. He goes from being someone you hope Freddie Prince Jr. can save to someone you actively campaign to get shot. He’s just running around having people taken in for questioning and not being given any rights. In fact, he has his Security Detective Guy taken in for questioning, just because the dude was all “Hey, you shouldn’t be doing this, these aren’t the principals I agreed to when I voted for you or something.”

And then he patted Security Guy on the head and told him he was cute for thinking political figures actually had principals.

Meanwhile President Taylor is all “Hey, you can’t just interrogate everyone without due process! Only we do that!”

An what the fuck is up with President The Guy From Slumdog Millionaire’s glasses? Is he secretly a hipster? Is he twittering something and trying to order some tight jeans? I’m confused. At least Jack took off his glasses, those things were distracting.

Ah fuck, never mind.

I actually resent how awesome the last four minutes or so of the episode were. Yeah man, they were fucking out of control. After three episodes of having Vladimir dry-hump her, storm in on her improbable showers, and ask her to cut bread – what the fuck – Renee finally stabs the living shit out of him. And how! I mean, holy shit. Listen chick, take it from someone who takes it, you need some Lamictal. Your mood swings are making me look stable, and that’s no small feat.

I hadn’t been shocked by something that happened on 24 in a long time, but the fact that she stabbed poor Vlad in the eyeball and then used him as a pin cushion had me aghast. And then she stabbed Jack! Holy Jesus Christ! Now this is what I’m talking about.

Thankfully it was only Jack Bauer she stabbed, and not a mere mortal. If she had stabbed me, I would have been rolling around on the ground screaming “My fucking guts! My insides! Are they still inside!? Do I look like Mel Gibson in Braveheart! Ow, oh shit! Just ’cause you got crazy ass titties don’t mean you can stab me!”

Jack though? Naw, he wasn’t even sweating it.

Though they’ve only gone into it in fanfiction, it’s well known that Jack Bauer was trained by an army of chimpanzee ninja assassins in his early teenage years. Henceforth, his precision aim and dexterity are unbelievable, which is why he was able to pull that dang knife out of his belly and throw it into the throat of Vlad’s crony without blinking. It was god damn impressive. As for the wound itself? Don’t even mean a thang. Bauer kicked a heroin addiction in season three, and self-resurrected after being tasered to death in season two. I guarantee by the end of the next episode, his stomach is actually stronger than it was previously.

Also little known fact? Jack Bauer’s dad was Wolverine. Healing factor like woah.

Here’s hoping Bauer gets to put the stink down on some more Russian stormtroopers next episode, while Renee does god knows what. She’s probably going to stab Bubba Gump Hastings back at CTU and try and hang herself with Chloe’s phone cord. I approve.

• LOST Valentine’s Day Cards
  Epic LOST-themed Valentine’s Day cards.
• DC Unveils The Last Covers to Batman: The Return of Bruce Wayne
  Yeah, gumshoe detective Bruce Wayne isn’t doing much for me.
• Prog Dorks Like Me: Listen to The Alaya Conscious
  If you don’t play World of Warcraft, worship John Petrucci, or imagine yourself gallantly crossing a stream of time and space aboard a beautiful intergalactic horse while doing math equations, this band probably isn’t for you. But for the rest of us? Hell yeah!
• World of Warcraft Has Lost Half A Million Nerds
  They’re probably dead underneath their computer desk, covered in crumbs and crusty fingers. That’s where you’ll find me.
• The Spider-Man Reboot Will Be In 3D
  Executives figure if it saved Dancing With the Alien Wolves, it can help Emo Parker.