Caught this promo picture. I’m totally sold on Playstation Move now. Why? Well, it’s simple! We have these two rejects from an Old Navy ad. And they’re swinging around Super-Future-Dildos, accompanied by that awesome effect Fox used for a while on hockey games. I want dildos with pink motion blur, god dammit!

I’ve never been a big fan of Spring. I don’t know why. While everyone is rejoicing at the return of blue skies and fresh air, I’m miserable. I think it has to do with several things. Firstly, the moment life returns to the plains of despair that are New England winters, my sinuses fill with enough muck to cement a wall with. And secondly, I find the air to be harsh at night, and cold in the morning. It’s a cock-tease. It’s like halfway decent out there. At least with the winter, you know what you’re getting: misery.

During the Spring, I don’t know what the fuck to wear, I don’t know what it’s going to be like out. Either I’m freezing, or I’m wearing too much and I’m sweating through my fucking clothing again. Pit stains need to come into fashion, or I’m going to live a very unfashionable life. It doesn’t seem that implausible, I mean, these days assholes are shelling out legitimate amounts of cash for pants that look like a painter fucked his co-worker in the middle of a job, and then got into a knife fight. Maybe some day there will be pseudo-pit stains, already burned into the shirts you buy.

A man can dream.

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.

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If there is a better example of sublimity and divinity in this world than the female form, I haven’t seen it yet. And so while I generally masquerade as a pig, and to an extent I am, I generally regard women as the superior and more beautiful sex. These pictures of Gemma Arterton from the British GQ serve as corroboration for my argument. I think it is possible to behold and appreciate a person’s physical beauty without absolute objectification, or at least in the more negative connotation. As Althusser will let you know, we constantly objectify everything around us, including ourselves. So there!

I already thought it was creepy how hyper-sexualized Vanille is in Final Fantasy XIII. Then tonight, I noticed something. Every time Vanille casts a spell, she sounds like a Japanese porn actress. Like, no, really. I’m not making that up. And worst of all? I don’t really enjoy it. I find it unsettling.

This has to do with the fact that Japanese porn actresses always sound like eleven year-old girls getting fucked by their gym teacher in porn scenes. High-pitched, slightly resigned yelps. It’s freaking me the fuck out. It’s enough to get me to not enjoy Japanese porn, which is a feat considering I’m a fucking pervert. And it’s also enough to make me really uncomfortable playing as her in Final Fantasy XIII. Every time I cast Fira, it sounds like a fucking girl is getting molested.

[source]

OMFGEjaculate.

[Search Engine Terms come from an app in the Word Press dashboard. It tells you the terms that people are using in google to lead to your site. Most of ours are ultra depraved and horrible. And amusing to sick people like me.]

Ah, someone suffering from the same plight as me. It seems that everyone who has played through Mass Effect 2 has arrived at the same conclusion: Yeoman Kelly is absolutely gorgeous, cute, not real but that’s okay, intelligent, and I need to bang her.

Well, everything that is worth attaining must be earned. And Yeoman Kelly’s moist goodness is just the same. Stick with it good friend, you’ll pull it off yet. Not that I have, I need to play through the title one more time. Chick hasn’t even made it out of my playthroughs alive yet.

And worst comes to worst, you can settle for sleeping with Jacob. I did.

One of the dopest things about Final Fantasy XIII for me so far is the battle system. It’s perfectly suited for my caffeine-soaked brain. It’s hyper-kinetic, and has you all over the place. I’m all WHOOSH WHOOSH PARADIGM SHIFT HEAL HEAL WHOOSH WHOOSH BACK TO KICKING ASS. Sometimes I lament the fact that I cannot control who is the party leader yet, and I also lament the fact that I cannot intervene and take control of the automated douchebags in my party. But other than that, it’s right up my alley. I like the fact that it has you hopping in and out or formations to suit the situation, and it feels like that concept compensates for the lack of autonomy you have over your other party members.

PARADIGM SHIFT.

• ..And Justice For All [Live]
  Before “Tallica Brings You Douchey-ness Baby!”, these guys used to be my heroes.
• Clerks Trailer
  Before Kevin Smith was too fat to fly, he was my hero. I was like thirteen.
• Battlestar Meets Beastie Boys’ Sabotage
  A beat for beat recreation of the Beastie Boys’ video using BSG footage. This is for the two people who haven’t seen this yet.
• 600,000 Women in West Nepal suffer from Uterine Prolapse
  I have no idea, I typed in “prolapse” to Youtube. That’s a lot of uterus turned inside out.

I just jammed two bowls of Raisin Bran Crunch down my throat and into my gut. And not because I’m hungry. The sad fact is that despite my best efforts, I’m still a bit of a lightweight. If I try to drink on an empty stomach, I’m destined to say something I’ll later regret.

So I’ve just scarfed down seven hundred calories of breakfast food and am now working on a suds-soda. Perhaps this isn’t the best diet to follow on a regular basis, but I think my nutritionist will loan me one mulligan. After all, it’s important to remember the old proverb — America was built on breakfast and beer.

Anyways, I’m sipping on Doggie Style Classic Pale Ale from the peeps at Flying Dog Ales. Truthfully, I was initially attracted to the beer because of label adorned with Ralph Steadman art. But these motherfuckers can craft a good brew, so I was willing to shell out ten bucks for a six pack.

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More shit is barfing up about the first paid Mass Effect 2 DLC, Kasumi’s Memory.

First off, would you believe it, the female character is hot? I know, right? Totally a shocker. Apparently in the Mass Effect universe, everyone is gorgeous looking, or at least in great shape. It doesn’t matter if you’re a politician, an archealogist, or a soldier, you’re fucking hot. You got abs like what, and dumps like a truck.

Secondly, the shit teases our e-dongs with hints of Earth again.

Take it away Kotaku, you beautiful fuck!

This DLC is Mass Effect’s ode to James Bond. It is an undercover slip into a formal-attire-required party at the estate of the shady Donovan Hock, mixed with a bit of schmoozing, a safe that needs cracking and then gunfire. There is a vault in this 90-minute level. It contains statues of familiar characters and two of the most popular statues from Earth: Michelangelo’s David and the Statue of Liberty.

Oh shiznit! Some vault has the fucking Statue of Liberty? I assume they’ve been saving Earth’s fate for the final installment of their first trilogy, but I’m assuming that nothing good has become of it.

And I fucking love vaults with hidden treasure, don’t you? Uncle Scrooge in Duck Tales was always my hero, because the dude could swim in gold coins. Every good universe needs some vault with awesome artifacts to be plundered by Nicholas Cage. Seriously.

I go ape shit for anything Mass Effect, and for those of you who don’t dig the universe, I’m probably driving you crazy. So to entertain you, and make this post worthwhile, I’d like to offer you something awesome: