Recently at a Goodwill, a lucky woman purchased what is considered to be the fucking Holy Grail of collectible video games. None other than Stadium Events. She snagged this game for a cool $7.99, beating the typical asking price by like, you know, almost $15,000. Jesus fucking Christ.

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Jesus Christ, so help me. If you watch this trailer and you don’t feel things man, I have nothing to offer you.

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So…now a source close to the Durango-720-Nextbox is claiming that the next Microsoft console won’t be always-on. And will be backwards compatible! The plot thickens. I have no fucking idea what to believe any more, you?

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Dave Perillo’s Empire Strikes Back poster is an adorable (albeit expensive) little morsel of nerdery I wish I could purchase. Seeing that I am poor (I originally typed porn here, if you want a look into my psyche), I must worship it from afar.

Hit the jump to check it out.

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I’m beginning to get interested about this Guardians of the Galaxy flick. Rendar keeps telling me it is going to be Marvel’s first great flop, and it might be. Yet even if it falls down on its wildly esoteric face, between the director and the absurd collection of characters populating the cast, I’m intrigued. The latest duder to become a guardian is that white trash guy from AMC’s Arguing around Zombies. 

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If you want to go to Mars so fucking badly that you don’t care if you come back, Mars One may be interested in your ass. Those of us who would rather wander Ares than ever suck air on Earth again will be able to apply for the trip. But wait, there is more! Should you spacefaring ass be chosen, you will then enter into some sort of zany reality show about the colonization of the planet.

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The minds behind Modern Warfare have yet to show the world their new IP, but the reveal inches closer. I’m pretty sure some Marketing Czar from EA said the studio would show something at EA, and now it comes out that they have registered a trademark for Titan. 

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[This! Is! Mad Men! recaps the most recent developments of Don Draper and his lovable gang of sleazeball advertisers. In the spirit of the show, the post itself may very well be drunk. And sexist. Apologies ahead of time.]

One of the secrets of getting good at any game is to learning how to navigate through the rules. Just as a hacker can manipulate an operating system, a true sportsman knows how to bend, ignore, or even break the rules of his given game. In fact, this practice is so prevalent that many sports even develop their own sets of etiquette, terms, and conditions that are implicitly agreed upon.

Life, often compared to a game, certainly has its share of unspoken agreements.

But who’re the people that turn the other way when the rules are broken? Who deals in terms of tacit transactions? Well, it always seems to be The Collaborators.

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There is a grand awakening coming! Millions upon millions of my fellow Lies Assassins and Truth Warriors are beginning to realize the uncomfortable truth. These brave folks are slowly coming to grips with the undeniable fact that our country is not our own. Democracy is a farce. For we are controlled by the Lizard People.

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My shaft is seriously chaffing after the vigorous trailer-inspired thrashing I have been giving it today. The final trailer for Star Trek Into Darkness is a glorious batch of pomp-and-circumstance, wrapped around the dulcet tones of Benedict Cumberbatch. I cannot wait for this jam.

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