There’s a Pac-Man reality TV show in the works. This future-abortion is being helmed by Merv Griffin Entertainment, the fuckers behind Wheel of Fortune and Jeopardy!  I know it doesn’t make any sense, but welcome to the Wasteland, where nothing makes sense. Therefore, everything makes sense. We’re turning the board game Battleship into a fucking movie. Why can’t we turn Pac-Man into a reality show? Of course you don’t have a good reason! Here, have some details down your willing gullet, from  Roy Bank, the Guy Of Some Importance Or Something from Merv:

A big, crazy  Wipeout-type event with a lot of energy. The idea we have is to take what Pac-Man is and bring it to life, to bring what is essentially the world’s biggest game of tag to television.

I can’t imagine why this wouldn’t be a success and why we won’t all be stapled to our chairs while its on. Nonetheless, it isn’t the Pac-Man television show I envisioned. In my reality TV show, someone hides a bottle of Ambien in a giant grass  labyrinth. While I’m searching for it, people chase me with blunt objects. If I find the bottle of Ambien, I then pound them pills and chase them, because next to the bottle of Ambien is also a corked bat and an unloaded gun.

I think this would make for much more riveting television, but what the fuck do I know.

Salad UK brings the dubstep to The Office, and I love it. Probably too much.  As a white guy, I have zero coordination of the dance floor. But goddamn if this didn’t make my sad little ass giggle, while trying to swing my dong around in something  hypnotically  horrifying.

Hit the jump for the video.

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[DEFEAT. is Rendar Frankenstein’s truest attempt at fiction.   Presented in weekly episodes, the novella tells the tale of Daryl Millar – a hero who dies at the intersection of pop culture, science-fiction, war epic, and fantasy]

Daryl Millar walked through the doors of the cafeteria, toting only his brown-bagged lunch and a growing sense of optimism. But then he saw his two best friends sitting on opposing benches of their table.

Black eyes.
Split lips.
The need for a call to arms.

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Some internet being is trying to sell a new-in-the-box set of Zelda dinnerware for upwards of $100,000. The uh, gorgeous set was released in 1989, and is apparently like totally rare. The description on the eBay page mentions that some of the uh, hopeful $100,000 will go to the Red Cross:

The box is in excellent condition with some wonderful artwork on the back. There is a sheet of plastic covering the window on the front of the box which is still completely intact with no tears! The set includes a plate, a cup and a bowl. I have looked all over the internet for this set, but I have only seen people with the pieces of the set and not the entire set all together in the original box.

This is really a rare find and it is likely that there is no other such set even complete together in existence still today. If you are a collector of Nintendo or Legend of Zelda items, this is a must have. It was made by Peter Pan and is officially licensed by Nintendo. I am going to put a donation on this auction too because if this is going to sell for what it should sell for, then I think part of that money should go to a charity.

Starting bid is at $15,000. Asking price is $100,000. I got $75, who wants to go halfsies? It’s for fucking charity, ya pricks!

Via.

I am a big hockey fan. I am. Which is why I can say with  assuredness that almost every idea the NHL has is fucking awful. Okay, I’ll acknowledge that the Winter Classic is choice, and this year’s documentary leading up to it was also stellar. But as an organization, it is routinely obvious why they lag behind everything else here in the United States.

File this under: yet another amazing disaster in the making. The NHL and Stan  Lee have teamed up to create 30 unique superheroes under the title the Guardian Project. Comics Alliance quotes NHL.com which explains it as a “creative concept that organically and authentically incorporates various NHL elements but is not set in the world of hockey.” Oh, now I gotcha. A creative concept that organically incorporates the NHL and superheroes. How didn’t someone already think of this shit? Yup, this is going to breakdown the boundaries and get this sport back into the spotlight. Or, more than likely, it’s going to get two douchebags on Sportscenter talking shit as they fade out in some “Not Top Ten” list at the end of a segment.

Today, the first two superheroes were dropped. And good lord are they as awful/amazing as you could hope for.

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New Year’s Eve! This is it for 2010 – last chance to dance! And I encourage you to do just that. Surround yourself with friends and loved ones. Drink. Eat. Play video games. Be merry. Most importantly, cherish your life and look forward to the opportunities provided just be virtue of being able to continue.

For your amusement, I present an (un)official NYE pre-gamin’ playlist.

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Well, it was only a matter of time. Sex game company ThriXXX has finally done the perv world a solid and hacked Kinect. They didn’t just hack it for fun, no sir. They hacked it to create a virtual interface for rubbing boobs, butts, and down the road: a lot more.

They want to add full-body support and voice commands.

I gotta level with you guys. I’m a goddamn pervert, and even I find this shit uncomfortable. There’s something about menacingly rubbing some virtual chick’s bits as she stares emptily at you that creeps me the fuck out. Though, I’m sure, this will only turn (a lot of ) people on moreso.

Hit the jump for this beauty (?) in motion.

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Here’s a scientific fact you probably don’t know: Marky Mark is clinically awesome in Boogie Nights. And one of the best moments of the movie is when he begins belting out ‘The Touch’. Apparently that shit is from Transformers. Never knew. Do you want a video of him belting it out? How about Christian Bale singing the theme to the Powerpuff Girls? In the same video? Well here you go. I’m sorry for blowing up your asshole with awesome.

It’s worth it.

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Merry Christmas!

Gavon Laessig brings my attention to clearly the best Christmas tree ornament. Ever. I can’t wait to construct my own and use it for the years that follow. It’ll make a nice festive holiday jumping off point for me to explain to Lil Caffeine Powered about how the internet broke us and now we’re all using tasers and nipple clamps to get off.

The phantom hides in the pantry, waiting for the child to awake. Always in the pantry. Always behind the cookies. The child, bleary-eyed and delirious with dream-dust, makes his way into the snack cabinet. His belly, constantly satiated by parents who know not of discipline, grumbles. Obeying, the child opens the cupboard door and reaches in to retrieve the chocolate-chip delights.

SNATCH!

Snack time.
For the phantom.

–-

Welcome, my babies, to the Monday Morning Commute. This is the place where we detail our agendas for the upcoming week. Avoid the drudgery of existence. Beat boredom into a pulp. Repel the Snack-Phantom. Let’s fuggin’ do this.

–-

Listening / A Jolly Christmas from Frank Sinatra

In case you haven’t noticed the fleet of minivans parked at the mall indefinitely or the neighbors who think their front lawns are reasonable facsimiles of Times Square, let me clue you in: it’s Christmas time. Or holiday time. Or whatever. From my completely secular standpoint, I kind of wish we could all give up the bogus religious connotations of the Winter Solstice Festivals and agree on something new. One holiday to rule the all.

Anyways, I use a few different activities to get into the holiday spirit. Spending time with friends. Pounding eggnog by the liter. And most importantly, listening to seasonal music. Over the years I’ve run the gauntlet when it comes to Christmas tunes, from Jimmy Buffet to Savatage. Hell, if you don’t give yourself a chance to try the kookier coldcuts from the Christmas music antipasto, you’re really doing yourself a disservice.

This year, however, I’m going the route of the traditionalist. I took it upon myself to download a vinyl rip of A Jolly Christmas from Frank Sinatra.

Holy Jesus-Birth, Santa, a digital transmission of a piece of plastic that was listened to by someone fifty-three years ago?!?! Somebody with hopes and dreams and a consciousness that has probably since faded back into the Universal Collective?!?

Yes, I even try to make my holiday activities about temporality-defiance.

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