WATCH: The THREE-POINT LANDING Is Ultimate In Bad Ass.
The three-point landing. Bad ass characters use this to fall from great heights, stopping to pose for a moment in all their rock. Here’s a collection of the more righteous ones. Hint: there’s a lot. A lot.
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Cover to WARREN ELLIS’ Second Novel, ‘GUN MACHINE’ Revealed.
I miss Warren Ellis. A lot. He is a hero of mine, one of the biggest. However as he has scaled back his work in comics to almost nothing, his visible footprint on my psyche has eroded. Bums me the fuck out. Where there was once a plethora, now there is mainly silence and the occasional balls-tingling rant on his website. Despite this Lack, Ellis does exist, and he has been doing Things. One of those Things is Gun Machine, his second novel. As proof of his wind-sucking continued-contributions to the arts of the world, Ellis has dropped the cover to this next textual offering. Done by Keith Hayes, it’s sexy.
Hit the jump to check it out.
‘WHERE THE WILD THINGS ARE’ Author Maurice Sendak Has Died. Frown. Big One.
In a bit of a bummer batch of news on a rainy day around these parts, it is being reported that Maurice Sendak has passed away.
The Raid: Redemption Is Like a Bunch of Hardcore Breakdowns
I was never into hardcore but my ex-girlfriend in college was. She was into all those bands with “blood” in their names and local Boston groups like Suicide File. I tolerated it – anything was better than Morrisey, her other love – and I even liked a few. My favorite parts were, of cours, the breakdowns. All of them. Any of them. Breakdowns make me want to do push-ups and bang a chick – at the same time! The Raid: Redemption is like a bunch of hardcore breakdowns strung together with some flimsy exposition thrown in between. I couldn’t care less what was going on in between the breakdowns – just fast forward the verses and get to the throwdowns.
New ‘STAR WARS’ Project Coming, ‘STAR WARS 1313’, What Could It Mean?! More Toys, Idiot.
Oh golly gosh! A new Star Wars project is coming, tipped off courtesy of some blunt-force domain registrations. Just what is Star Wars 1313? More money for the Fuck Face.
‘ASSASSIN’S CREED III’ GAMEPLAY TRAILER…TEASER. Bit Ridic.
Ah, it’s vomiting up into video games too! The omnipresent teaser for a trailer. Here it is manifesting in Assassin’s Creed III. Don’t fret! Through marketing masturbation you too!, can help unlock the full thing.
Monday Morning Commute: Bourbon-Soaked Orgy
Voodoo-prescribin’ witch doctors once invited me to a party.
It was the summer of 1987 and I was in the middle of one of the worst hangovers of my entire life. Since April, I’d spent every waking hour thrashing to Among the Living and doing lines of gasoline-soaked blow. As far as I can recall, it wasn’t until mid-July that I even realized I’d made it all the way to Nova Scotia.
Don’t let anyone tell you that heavy metal and drugs won’t lead you anywhere. They will. Specifically, to the beautiful port-town of Yarmouth.
Anyways, I stumbled out of buck-toothed Ambellina’s bedroom, leaving behind my Walkman and cocaine in the hopes of finding something slightly more transcendent. Fortunately, I found the Tim Hortons whose manager seemed eager to keep my coffee cup filled to the brim, free of charge. (In hindsight, I think must’ve let him look at my Polaroid collection. You ever see a Yeti’s genitals? No? Well, then you haven’t seen my Polaroid collection.) After my thirteenth cup of black wonder, I saw them.
The witch doctors.
There were three of `em. They were all black dudes. They were all wearing sleeveless Wham! t-shirts tucked into blue jeans, which were in turn tucked into work boots. And their accents couldn’t’ve been more diverse. The fat one spoke with a Cajun twang, the old one spoke through a metrosexual French patois, and the tall one sounded German.
In a flash, they’d all taken the liberty of joining me in my booth. Surrounded on all sides, strung out, and shaking in an over-caffeinated stupor, I had no hope of escaping `em. Which wasn’t really a concern of mine until the old one pulled a decapitated chicken out of his backpack and started rubbing it on my face. “Ah, mon ami, you need to stop stressing out!”
“Ja! Too stressed” shouted the tall one, loud enough to turn the heads of patrons.
“C’mon,” encouraged the fat man, “un p’tit boug hain’t gotta worries! We fixxya!”
I was vexed, absolutely sure that these three were going to murder me. I finished my coffee, the best last meal I could ever hope for, and prepared for my demise. “So, you’re goin’ to kill me, huh?”
Uproarious laughter.
The old man put the chicken back into his bag and did me the favor of wiping the grease and blood from my face. Granted, he cleaned my visage with his bare hand and then proceeded to clean his hand with his tongue, but the sentiment was there. He then did his best to reassure me.
“Eh bien! Murder is for poets! We are witch doctors! And we’ve got a prescription for you!”
I was curious. “Okay…what is it?”
“ES IST VOODOO!” bellowed the Bavarian.
“Um…” I equivocated, “what type of voodoo?”
Toothy grins spread across the trio of shadowy faces. And then, seemingly from out of nowhere, four of the ugliest, skankiest Canadian girls I’d ever seen appeared behind the witch doctors. If I had to bet, I’d’ve put my money on at least two of `em havin’ VD.
The old man grabbed my shoulder and cackled, “The type of voodoo that starts with a bourbon-soaked orgy!”
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Welcome to the Monday Morning Commute! This is the feature in which I write whatever nonsense pops into my mind and then run through the various ways I’ll be entertaining myself into the weekend. At that point, it’s your duty/honor/begrudging privilege to hit up the comments section and share your own ennui-destroyin’ elixirs.
Enough feet-draggin’, let’s rock!
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The OMEGA NEBULA Is Real; Clearly Best Nebula Of All.
Yeah, we got our own nebula. Big whup. It ain’t even that fancy. I wish I was consulted when the rest of the gang was choosing our own star-forming section of the Universe, I would have chosen something with more swag.
‘BIOSHOCK’ x Mr. Potato Head = The Best Toy.
It’s a natural combination. A children’s toy such as Mr. Potato Head being mashed-up with a thing of nightmares like the Big Daddy from BioShock. Now this aberration, this slight of God, shall return to haunt the little ones of Rapture before being sliced into delectable pieces of starch.
Hit the jump to check out the terror-beauty.
WATCH: Batman Tries Out For ‘AVENGERS’, Is A Bit Raw For Their Palate.
With Avengers destroying box office records, it’s only natural that Batman tries to swagger up to their rodeo. However as this video indicates, the good man isn’t cut out for the team. A bit rough around the edges, you see. Plus he swears a lot and slaps around Robin. Not sure which of those truly disqualified him, or if it was a cumulative effort.
